Rough Way to the High Way Read online

  PRAISE FOR ROUGH WAY TO THE HIGH WAY

  Kelly Mack McCoy spins a riveting yarn of a long-haul truck driver, Mack, who must overcome challenging road blocks on the highway as well as in his personal life. He struggles with grief, regrets over perceived failure as a minister, and questions his spiritual wellbeing. If all this was not enough, he is confronted with hijackers, smugglers, and a mysterious hitchhiker. This fast-paced novel puts the reader into the thick of the action.

  HENRY SPEARS, AUTHOR OF THE APOCALYPTIC ELEPHANT

  It’s not every day you have the opportunity to read an engaging novel about a truck driver, written by one. Kelly Mack McCoy is the real deal as an emerging author.

  PHILLIP TELFER, PASTOR AND AUTHOR,

  FOUNDER AND PRESIDENT OF MEDIA TALK 101.

  Kelly Mack McCoy’s first novel is sure to be a hit. The long hours of driving a tractor-trailer can give a trucker many hours to consider life, and perhaps, to even get insight from a mysterious hitchhiker. Mack’s delightful Texas wit and trucker lingo gives humor throughout as he tries to determine how he will bring a killer to justice. Ride along with Mack, the preacher-turned-trucker, and experience the twists and turns he takes to get the answers he seeks.

  JUDY SHEER WATTERS, AUTHOR OF THE ROAD HOME:

  THE LEGACY THAT WAS, IS, AND IS TO COME AND

  PANNING FOR GOLD IN OUR GOLDEN YEARS

  A JOURNAL FOR POSITIVE AGING.

  Kelly Mack McCoy’s exceptional writing style will leave you laughing and crying along with the characters in his novels.

  DR. JOHN W. LOVITT, AUTHOR OF WHO’S LISTENING ANYWAY?

  AND WHO’S TELLING THE TRUTH ANYWAY

  Kelly Mack McCoy has a unique writer’s voice, and it comes through in his pages with an easy style to keep you captivated until the very end. He uses dialogue to charm, intrigue and guide the readers to many conclusions--some truthful and others, well...he’ll keep you guessing. Excellent writing, colorful characters, and a plot with plenty of twists and turns to shadow the highways of life Mack and the hitchhiker have traveled.

  BRENDA BLANCHARD--AUTHOR, EDITOR, SPEAKER,

  FOUNDER OF DOOR OF HOPE MINISTRIES AND

  SISTERS IN CHRIST BIBLE STUDY

  A NOVEL

  ROUGH WAY

  TO THE

  HIGH WAY

  A NOVEL

  ROUGH WAY

  TO THE

  HIGH WAY

  by

  Kelly Mack McCoy

  © 2018 Kelly Mack McCoy

  Rough Way to the High Way

  All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, scanning, or other—except for brief quotations in critical reviews or articles, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  Published in Nashville, Tennessee, by Elm Hill, an imprint of Thomas Nelson. Elm Hill and Thomas Nelson are registered trademarks of HarperCollins Christian Publishing, Inc.

  Elm Hill titles may be purchased in bulk for educational, business, fund-raising, or sales promotional use. For information, please e-mail [email protected].

  Publisher’s Note: This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. All characters are fictional, and any similarity to people living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Library Congress Control Number: 2018965300

  ISBN 978-0-310103721 (Paperback)

  ISBN 978-0-310103738 (Hardbound)

  ISBN 978-0-310103745 (eBook)

  Information about External Hyperlinks in this ebook

  Please note that footnotes in this ebook may contain hyperlinks to external websites as part of bibliographic citations. These hyperlinks have not been activated by the publisher, who cannot verify the accuracy of these links beyond the date of publication.

  To Patrick, who would have been a far better writer than me;

  we’ll have eternity to create stories together.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Rough Way to the High Way would never have seen the light of day had I not had help from many people along the way. Space does not permit me to list them all by name. Here are just a few of the many who helped make this dream a reality.

  To my wife Emily, a hardworking, wood-chopping kind of gal who is fully capable of doing all the manly-man kind of things around the house while her husband stares stupidly at a computer screen for hours until he finally gets some serious writing done, only to delete it in disgust the next day: thank you, Babe. In answer to your question as to where my head has been, please keep reading to the end.

  To my friend, author and publisher John Floyd Mills, who has gone on to be with the Lord. John was as much of a sentimental softie on the inside as he was tough on the outside of his well-honed gruff exterior. It was he who approached me with the concept of the two of us partnering together to write a series of novels about the adventures of a long-haul trucker.

  We never wrote together, but I don’t know that I would have written this novel or perhaps even other books I’ve had rolling around in my head had John not suggested we partner as writers. His passing was the motivation for me to pick up this on-again-off-again project once more and see it through to completion.

  To my good friend Dr. John W. Lovitt, who often told anyone who would listen what a good writer I was, in spite of the sparse material I had to show in my early days as a writer: your encouragement helped keep my writing alive when I was ready to just throw in the towel and forget about the notion that I could write a novel anyone would want to read.

  Thanks to Al Mendenhall for giving new life to this novel with his great cover design. Al offered to design the cover for Rough Way to the High Way when he first learned I was writing it. I made no suggestions about what I wanted in a cover but just sent him a brief synopsis along with the first few chapters.

  The design was one hundred percent his, yet when I saw it my reaction was, “Wow! That’s it!” I knew Al as one of the pastors at Living Water Fellowship in Bulverde, Texas. But I had no idea what a multitalented man he was until I saw his work.

  To Ninfa Castañeda, PhD, my editor, who provided me with an education that will last a lifetime with the copious supply of notes she provided along with her edits. She took on this project as she was enjoying the last days on earth she would spend with her mother. Ninfa’s mom—once a barefooted, two-dress owning, dirt-poor woman—left an invaluable treasure that lives on long after her passing. Perhaps a book will be written to tell her incredible story.

  Ninfa explained in her notes the reason behind every jot or tittle and why I may want to consider changes here and there in the text. Yet she understood when my rather loose use and abuse of the language was intentional, so she left those parts as they were and suggested changes where needed. Rough Way to the High Way is so much better than it would be because of the contribution of her considerable talent. Any errors in the text of this novel are due to changes I snuck in after her edits were completed.

  Thanks, Ninfa (sorry, I had to sneak that in).

  Special appreciation goes out to Brenda Blanchard, president of the Christian Writers Group (CWG) of the Greater San Antonio area. She helped to draw out the writer in me from the time of my first visit to CWG, even when I wasn’t sure I had anything to share. Thanks to Brenda and all the members of the CWG for welcoming a greenhorn like myself into their company. Your critiques and encouragements helped motivate me to take this project from beginning to end.

  I would also like to thank Judy Waters and a
ll my fellow members of the Hill Country Christian Writers Group. When I found this group near my home in the Texas Hill Country, I was so impressed with the level of talent in the group I sometimes felt I was a little out of my league. The writers there helped give birth to this novel.

  Both of my writers groups include some talented, published authors, as well as talented writers who don’t aspire to publish anything to share with the general public. The one thing all these people have in common is that these busy, accomplished professionals and dear Christian friends freely gave of themselves, filling my heart with gratitude in the process.

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1 The Hitchhiker

  Chapter 2 Divine Occurrence—Turning Back

  Chapter 3 Past Episode

  Chapter 4 Going Back to the Future

  Chapter 5 Killing Time

  Chapter 6 Crime and Bunglement

  Chapter 7 Returning to the Scene of the Crime

  Chapter 8 Changing Her Tune

  Chapter 9 Getting Their Man

  Chapter 10 On the Road Again

  Chapter 11 The Call

  Chapter 12 Parting Shot

  Chapter 13 On the Road Again, Again

  Chapter 14 The Traveler and the Trooper

  Chapter 15 Sin of Omission

  Chapter 16 Sin of Commission

  Chapter 17 Stealing Home

  Chapter 18 Dying Time Again

  Chapter 19 Inside the Joint

  Chapter 20 Comic Book Caper

  Chapter 21 Crazy Like Me

  Chapter 22 Storytelling

  Chapter 23 Stung by a Scorpion

  Chapter 24 Rudely Interrupted

  Chapter 25 Time and Eternity—the Rough Way

  Chapter 26 Eternity—the High Way

  Chapter 27 Back in Time

  Chapter 28 Saying Good-bye

  Chapter 29 Soul Journer and the Co-Journer

  Chapter 30 The Source

  Chapter 31 Sharing Notes

  Chapter 32 Fix-It Man

  Chapter 33 Déjà Vu Rendezvous

  Chapter 34 Fame and Fortune

  Chapter 35 Romeo and Who Done It

  Chapter 36 Garza and McClain

  Chapter 37 Black and White

  Chapter 38 The Message

  Chapter 39 Face-to-Face with the Fed

  Chapter 40 Darkness and Light

  Chapter 41 It Is Well

  Chapter 42 Special Delivery

  Chapter 43 Chatterbox

  Chapter 44 Hitting the Pavement

  Chapter 45 To-Go Box

  Chapter 46 Doctored Device

  Chapter 47 Bonnie and Clyde Clue the Captain

  Chapter 48 The Code

  Chapter 49 In the Nick of Time (and Eternity)

  Chapter 50 Cleaning Up

  Chapter 51 Good-bye for Good

  CHAPTER ONE

  THE HITCHHIKER

  Friday, 9:00 A.M.

  Mack’s eyes locked onto the sight in his mirror as his rig’s eighteen wheels rolled away from his boyhood home of Pampa, Texas. The DO NOT PICK UP HITCHHIKERS sign above where a man once stood now topped a bare metal post. The man was gone but the memories his image evoked seared into his soul like a branding iron.

  He indulged in the perverse pleasure of wallowing in the memories until his stomach twisted into the same old knots he could never seem to untangle. The memories brought comfort to him in a strange kind of way—as in the way a man hangs onto a grudge because it feels familiar and is easier to hang onto than let go.

  When the sign faded from sight Mack eased back onto his seat. He shook the memories off with humor, like he always did, driving them back into a forgotten graveyard in his mind.

  Maybe that was the ghost of dear old Dad leaning against that post, he thought, though dear old Dad died long ago in the Huntsville state prison. He chuckled to himself and glanced at his watch before turning his thoughts to Chicago, where he would unload his first load in decades. Almost three full days to make it there. Guess I can take the scenic route.

  But his peace of mind vanished like a vapor as he eyed the solitary figure of a man walking toward a midmorning Texas sun that brought the promise of another blistering day to the Panhandle Plains. Even with the man’s back to him, Mack recognized the hitchhiker as the same one he passed on the way to the slaughterhouse.

  He steered his new Peterbilt onto the shoulder and watched in his mirror as the man jogged to his truck. The hitchhiker flung the passenger door open and tossed his bag onto the floor before plopping himself onto the seat and turning to face Mack.

  “Where’re you headed, son?” Mack asked.

  “Away from this God-forsaken place,” replied the hitchhiker.

  Mack turned his eyes to the highway and floated through ten gears before casting those eyes toward his new passenger. “Good luck with that. Unless you have somewhere to go your mind will stay locked up in that prison back there as long as you live.”

  The hitchhiker fixed his eyes on Mack and smiled. It was a one sided, tough guy kind of smile. “How’d you know I just got outta prison?”

  “You may as well have it stamped on your forehead.” Mack glanced left and then right at his West Coast mirrors. He shrugged and attempted to suppress a grin but failed. “Besides, I saw you on my way to the slaughterhouse to load. You were leaning on a signpost beneath a ‘Do Not Pick Up Hitchhikers’ sign just down the road from the Jordan Unit.”

  The hitchhiker laughed. “I just set my bag down to rest. I never read the sign. A cop came along an’ told me if I didn’t wanna go back to the joint I better hightail it out of his territory.” He snatched up his bag and rested it on his lap for a long moment before tossing it onto the floor by the sleeper. “So why’d you pick me up?”

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” Mack studied the hitchhiker’s eyes before focusing once again on the painted lines darting past his Pete. “Let’s just say you remind me of someone I once knew.”

  He watched his speedometer needle rise until it reached the speed limit, set the cruise control, and placed an arm on the armrest. “I’m taking a load of swinging meat to Chicago. So buckle up. I haven’t driven a big rig in a month of Sundays. Should be an interesting ride.”

  The hitchhiker settled onto his seat and folded his arms before cocking his head in Mack’s direction. “Swingin’ meat?”

  “Yeah. Swinging meat.” Mack thrust a thumb over his shoulder. “Picture a bunch of cows hanging from their tails back there in the trailer. That’s about how unstable the load is. Actually it’s sides of beef hanging from hooks. Anytime I make a sudden move, you’ll feel those babies get to swinging around. And if I jerk the wheel too hard, we could end up with the truck shiny side down.”

  “Shiny side down?”

  “Yeah. You know, upside down, dirty side up. Whatever you want to call it. This rig could easily end up that way.” Mack scanned his mirrors before facing his passenger once more. “Like I said, it’s been awhile since I’ve driven one of these things, and I’ve forgotten some of the lingo.” He inclined his head toward the hitchhiker and grinned. “You may be dead when that happens, so I don’t think the terminology will really matter at that point.”

  “It can’t be that dangerous.” The man turned to face the highway and laughed. “Listen, I just spent the last four years of my life thinkin’ I might get the shiny side of a shank to my jugular vein any day—just ‘cause maybe I hung around with the wrong people or somethin’.” He flopped his head around to face Mack and smiled his one-sided smile. “I ain’t scared of no swingin’ meat.”

  “Whoa!” Mack yanked his steering wheel hard left, dodging a slow-moving combine before jerking the wheel back to the right and returning to his lane. The shifting carcasses in the trailer sent it reeling left before tilting back to the right as the rig swerved across both lanes.

  After slamming on his brakes, he watched as his trailer skidded across the highway and slid around toward his Pete. Mack spun the wheel right and back t
o the left, but his trailer just loomed ever larger in his mirror.

  Attempting to reign in the out-of-control rig Mack wrested his wheel back hard to the right, sending his truck careening off the highway. He veered off to the edge of the shoulder as his rig hit a soft spot. A chill shot up his spine upon hearing a whump when the carcasses shifted as the trailer leaned toward the embankment.

  “Hang on!” Mack hit the brakes once more, easy this time. His truck continued rolling along the shoulder until the big rig’s wheels wound down and rolled to a stop. He gripped his steering wheel with arms locked forward and listened to his rig creak like an old rusted door as his trailer tilted inch by inch farther to the right.

  “Whewww…” Easing air from his lungs as if too much at once might unbalance the rig and send it crashing over the side of the highway, Mack considered his options. His best option at this point seemed to be to abandon ship by hopping out of his truck. But after glancing at his passenger, he decided against it.

  “Hey! You crazy, man?” the hitchhiker shouted as he fumbled around for the door handle. “I’m gettin’ outa here!”

  His door flew open, sending him sliding out of the cab. He grasped for the grab handle and peeked over his shoulder at the jagged concrete and steel left by a highway construction crew. Clutching the handle with both hands now, he tightened his grip and glared at Mack.

  “Okay.” Mack eased his hands away from the wheel before holding them up “Look, Ma” style. “Hopefully the truck won’t fall over on you when you get out.”

  The hitchhiker punched a foot hard against the side panel and pushed himself onto his seat before releasing a hand from his grab handle. He leaned in toward Mack. “Okay. So what’re you gonna do?”

  “Well, if we just sit here the truck will turn over for sure. And if we drive off, the rig still may flip over. But there’s a chance it won’t.” Mack positioned his hands onto the top of his steering wheel before sliding his moist palms into place and facing his passenger. “So I say we drive forward and pray.”

  The hitchhiker clicked his seatbelt into place with his free hand. “I’m with you man,” he said before digging his fingers into his armrests. The man stared lock-jawed at the highway ahead. “Let’s do it.”