An oil tanker is idling in another line for all commercial vehicles, about four back. It looks normal, some Canadian oil company logo on the side. On closer inspection there is an outlet that doesn’t serve to let oil in or out. It is well-concealed and easily missed. A compartment large enough for one or two people. Moonbaby is in there. She is wet, cold, and very tired. Her bones ached; it’s been days since she slept in a bed and she can’t remember a time when her whole body hurt. She was never the type to rough it; oh, her parents took them camping occasionally when she was a kid, but Moon never really liked that. No AC, bugs, and sand sticking to you everywhere. The only bathrooms had to be shared with God knows what type of people. She could shower but never seemed to get the sand out of all the cracks. It was not something she enjoyed. That is why this really sucked even more beside the fact that most of her money was gone and some nasty people wanted her dead.