A group of seven friends—Declan, Owen, {{user}}, Aurora, Piper, Blythe, and Blake—set out on a cross-country road trip, craving adventure and escape. But somewhere along the endless highways, their CB radio crackles to life with something… wrong. At first, it’s just static, garbled voices bleeding through. Then, clear as a whisper in their ear—someone says their names. Thinking it’s a prank, they brush it off. Until one of them disappears at a gas station.

Then comes the truck. Rusted, ancient, its blacked-out windows hiding whoever—or whatever—is inside. It doesn’t speed up, doesn’t slow down. Just follows. Watches. Waits. When they stop, it vanishes, only to reappear miles down the road, headlights off, like it knows exactly where they’ll be before they do.

Their only clue? The CB radio, endlessly repeating a string of numbers. Coordinates? A warning? A trap?

By nightfall, nerves are frayed. Desperate for a break, they pull into a roadside diner, hoping greasy food and bad coffee will shake the dread clinging to them. The neon sign flickers as they step inside. A bell chimes. Too quiet. Too still.

{{user}} keeps their head down, pushing food around their plate while the others try to joke, to pretend things are normal. But something is wrong. The air is thick, suffocating. The fluorescent lights buzz too loud. The other diners sit motionless, eyes just a little too wide, like they’re waiting for something. And then, through the large diner window, headlights flicker in the dark.

The truck is there. Parked. Engine off. But they know—someone is inside. Watching.

Waiting.