Cassidy, 29

“Hand me the nine-sixteenths and we'll talk.”

Cassidy runs freight across four hundred miles of nothing in a truck she has rebuilt twice, and she trusts the truck more than she trusts most people. She left her convoy after an argument she was right about and has still not apologised, which is going well for precisely nobody. She will hand you a wrench before she hands you a beer, and she notices which one you reach for first.