Chevy Stevens has crafted something genuinely unsettling in “The Hitchhikers”—a psychological thriller that starts as a simple road trip story and evolves into a masterful examination of how past trauma shapes present choices. Set against the backdrop of 1976 Canada’s remote highways, this latest offering from the author of “Still Missing” and “Those Girls” demonstrates why Stevens has become a trusted voice in contemporary suspense fiction.
Alice and Tom, still reeling from an unspecified tragedy that has shattered their marriage, embark on what they hope will be a healing journey in their new RV. Their carefully planned trip takes a devastating turn when they offer a ride to two young hitchhikers—Jenny and Simon—who carry secrets far darker than anyone could imagine. What follows is a taut game of psychological cat and mouse that forces readers to question everything they think they know about good and evil.
A Masterclass in Alternating Perspectives
Stevens employs a dual narrative structure that proves both brilliant and occasionally frustrating. The story alternates primarily between Alice’s perspective and Jenny’s, with Alice serving as our window into the present nightmare while Jenny’s chapters gradually reveal the horrific backstory that led to this moment. This technique creates an almost unbearable tension—we see Alice’s growing awareness of danger while simultaneously understanding the twisted logic behind Jenny’s actions.
The author’s decision to withhold crucial information until precisely the right moments showcases her understanding of pacing. Each revelation feels earned rather than manipulative, building to a climax that recontextualizes everything that came before. However, this careful parceling of information occasionally makes the middle sections feel deliberately opaque, testing reader patience in ways that don’t always pay off.
Character Development That Defies Expectations
Where Stevens truly excels is in her refusal to create simple villains or pure victims. Jenny emerges as perhaps one of the most complex antagonists in recent thriller fiction—a young woman whose horrific childhood abuse at the hands of her stepfather Robert, enabled by her neglectful mother, has warped her understanding of love, loyalty, and survival. The scenes depicting her trauma are handled with remarkable sensitivity, never exploitative yet unflinchingly honest about the lasting damage such experiences inflict.
Simon, initially presented as the primary threat, becomes something more nuanced—a damaged young man whose genuine love for Jenny has been corrupted by their shared violence. Their relationship operates on a twisted logic that makes perfect sense within their damaged worldview, even as it horrifies readers.
Alice and Tom represent the ordinary people caught in extraordinary circumstances, and Stevens avoids the typical thriller trap of making them impossibly clever or resourceful. They make realistic mistakes, miss obvious clues, and respond to terror in believably human ways. Tom’s injury early in the ordeal removes him as a traditional male protector, forcing Alice into a position of reluctant agency that feels both empowering and terrifying.
Historical Setting That Enhances the Isolation
The 1976 setting isn’t merely window dressing—it’s integral to the story’s claustrophobic atmosphere. This is a world without cell phones, GPS, or instant communication, where getting lost means being truly lost. Stevens uses this isolation expertly, trapping her characters in remote locations where help feels impossibly distant. The RV itself becomes both sanctuary and prison, its cramped quarters intensifying every confrontation.
The author’s research into the period shows in small details—the cassette tapes, the manual locks, the pay phones that may or may not work—that ground the story in authentic period atmosphere without feeling forced or nostalgic.
Prose That Mirrors Internal Chaos
Stevens’s writing style adapts beautifully to match each character’s psychological state. Alice’s sections maintain the controlled desperation of someone trying to hold onto normalcy in an abnormal situation, while Jenny’s chapters gradually descend into the fractured mindset of someone whose reality has been shattered beyond repair. The prose becomes more urgent and fragmented as tensions escalate, pulling readers into the characters’ mounting panic.
However, some passages feel slightly overwritten, particularly in emotional climaxes where the author’s usually sure hand with subtlety gives way to more explicit emotional exposition. These moments stand out precisely because the rest of the narrative trusts readers to understand subtext.
Themes That Resonate Beyond the Genre
Beneath its thriller framework, “The Hitchhikers” by Chevy Stevens grapples with weighty themes that elevate it above standard suspense fare. The exploration of how childhood trauma creates cycles of violence feels particularly relevant, as does the examination of how society fails vulnerable young people. Stevens doesn’t excuse Jenny’s actions, but she provides enough context to make them understandable within her damaged worldview.
The book also explores the theme of complicity—how well-meaning people can become trapped in situations where every choice seems wrong. Alice’s growing awareness that she’s been forced to participate in the couple’s violence creates some of the story’s most uncomfortable moments.
A Few Structural Challenges
While the alternating perspectives generally work well, there are moments where the timeline becomes unnecessarily confusing, particularly in Jenny’s backstory sections. Some readers may find themselves flipping back to clarify when events occurred, which disrupts the carefully built tension.
Additionally, certain plot points rely on coincidences that strain credibility. While not fatal to the overall narrative, these moments remind readers they’re reading a constructed thriller rather than experiencing events organically.
Comparing Stevens’s Evolution as a Writer
Fans of Chevy Stevens’s earlier work will recognize her signature ability to create sympathetic yet deeply flawed characters, but “The Hitchhikers” represents a marked evolution in her willingness to explore moral ambiguity. Where “Still Missing” presented a relatively clear victim-perpetrator dynamic, this novel forces readers to hold multiple contradictory truths simultaneously—Jenny is both victim and monster, Simon both protector and predator.
This complexity places the book in conversation with other sophisticated psychological thrillers like Gillian Flynn’s “Gone Girl” or Tana French’s Dublin Murder Squad series, where the line between protagonist and antagonist becomes increasingly blurred.
The Verdict: A Thriller That Haunts
“The Hitchhikers” succeeds as both an edge-of-your-seat thriller and a thoughtful examination of trauma’s lasting effects. Stevens has created characters that will linger in readers’ minds long after the final page, asking uncomfortable questions about justice, forgiveness, and the paths that lead ordinary people to extraordinary violence.
While the novel has minor flaws in pacing and structure, its emotional honesty and psychological complexity more than compensate. This is genre fiction at its most ambitious—a book that uses the thriller framework to explore deeper truths about human nature and the cycles of damage that connect us all.
Readers who enjoy psychological complexity in their thrillers will find much to appreciate in The Hitchhikers by Chevy Stevens, though those seeking straightforward good-versus-evil narratives may find the moral ambiguity challenging. Stevens has crafted a story that respects both genre conventions and literary ambitions, creating something that satisfies on multiple levels.
For Readers Who Enjoyed
“Gone Girl” by Gillian Flynn – for its morally complex characters and unreliable perspectives
“The Silent Patient” by Alex Michaelides – for its exploration of trauma and psychological revelation
“In the Woods” by Tana French – for its atmospheric setting and character-driven mystery
“Big Little Lies” by Liane Moriarty – for its examination of domestic violence and female friendship
“The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo” by Stieg Larsson – for its unflinching look at abuse and revenge