This Killer Creations Apache Houses A Triple-Turbo Cummins

Few trucks have crashed onto the diesel performance scene with the force of the Killer Creations Apache—a wild, wide, triple-turbo bruiser that looks like it rolled straight out of a video game and onto the SEMA Show floor. Part art car, part race truck, and entirely unhinged, the Apache is the brainchild of Jeffrey McHaddad and his father, Jeff, a father-son duo whose idea of a weekend project spiraled into a brand, a business, and one of the most recognizable diesel builds.

What began as a parking-lot experiment has evolved into a fully engineered, show-stopping, tire-destroying machine. And the deeper you dig into the Apache’s backstory, the more you realize that its triple-turbo Cummins is only half the story.

A Seven-Way Sheetmetal Swap

Before the Killer Creations Apache ever made four-figure horsepower, it made an impression with its shape. The Apache’s body reads like a catalog of GM history: a 1958 Chevy Apache cab and front clip, a 1964 C10 bed, and a 1973 C10 bumper. The core shell is mounted on the front half of a 2004 Tahoe chassis, while the rear half was cut away and replaced with a hand-built 1.75-inch DOM tube chassis that exposes all the mechanical components, including coilovers and coolers.

To solve the stance problem, Jeffrey didn’t narrow axles or lengthen arms. Instead, he grafted on a Clinched widebody kit (intended initially for a 2019 Mustang), carving, trimming, and reshaping the panels until they fit the vintage steel. It shouldn’t work. It absolutely does. The result is a race-ready silhouette that blends classic truck nostalgia with time-attack aggression. A massive wing and oversized splitter finish the look, along with a bold geometric wrap applied later by Creative Wraps ID. Even parked, the truck looks like it’s at full throttle.

The $3,000 Truck That Started It

The Apache’s origin story is almost unbelievable. Jeffrey bought a clapped-out 1997 Dodge for three grand purely as a donor drivetrain. At the time, he was working at Mayhem Metal Works in Simi Valley, California, where he performed fabrication in exchange for shop space. The Apache cab and clip were already in the family, along with the C10 bed and bumper, so he and his dad began mocking things together in the shop’s parking lot.

Then, a company named Clinched noticed the build and put it on its radar for SEMA. Suddenly, the father-son garage project became a deadline-driven thrash. Friends jumped in. Sponsors appeared. The truck’s rough concept turned into a polished monster, and the “Divergent Chevy,” as it was first known, rolled into Las Vegas wearing a set of triple turbos and a homebuilt widebody that left showgoers stunned.

The SEMA debut didn’t just turn heads. It convinced Jeffrey there was real demand for his style of fabrication, inspiring him to launch Killer Creations in Middleton, Idaho. The Apache remains the shop’s signature calling card.

Triple-Turbo Rage

At the heart of the modern Apache sits a built 6.7-liter Cummins punched .020 over, breathing through a truly wild triple-turbo compound arrangement—a 73mm atmosphere charger feeding a pair of 68mm secondaries. It’s all perched proudly up high, with stainless plumbing and short exhaust runners that leave no mystery about where the noise comes from.

The engine is fortified with Hamilton 188/220 camshaft hardware, pushrods, springs, and a ported/polished head. Beneath the decklid reside a set of Wagler Street Fighter rods, while fuel delivery is handled by oversized injectors (100% over in earlier iterations, with plans for 200%) and a stout CP3—12mm in most published specifications, with a 14mm upgrade in the works at Darkside Diesel.

Power numbers aren’t posted with precision, but the combination of fuel, turbo area, and tuning puts the truck firmly in the four-digit territory. Whether drifting, ripping burnouts, or blasting down a half-mile runway, the Apache never seems to run out of steam.

A Chassis Built For Madness

The chassis is equal parts desert racer and drift missile. Up front, custom control arms stretch the track width an additional 1.75 inches per side, while Sway-A-Way 2.5×8 coilovers handle the hits. Out back, the hand-built tube chassis houses long trailing arms and Sway-A-Way 2.5×12 coilovers, a setup more at home under a trophy truck than a vintage Chevy.

The cooling system, featuring a Mishimoto intercooler and transmission cooler, is mounted rearward with electric fans—both for packaging and aesthetic effect. The entire backend looks intentional, raw, and aggressive, exposing the engineering in a way that feels more motorsport than showpiece.

Braking comes courtesy of Wilwood: 14-inch rotors and six-piston calipers up front, 12-inch rotors and four-piston calipers rearward, all working with a hydraulic handbrake that Jeffrey uses to swing the truck sideways at will. The wheels are massive TIS alloys—20×10 front, 20×12 rear—wrapped in Toyo Proxes R888R rubber that don’t last long under the Apache’s abuse.

Inside The Cockpit

The interior is stripped to the essentials, dominated by a full roll cage that ties the cab into the tube chassis. Fixed-back racing seats, a quick-release wheel, and a well-placed hydraulic handbrake set the tone. The command center features an AEM CD-7 digital dash, equipped with sensors that monitor everything from boost to EGT. It’s not comfortable, but that’s not the point. It’s loud, tight, and ready to make a dramatic impact.

Beyond The Apache

The truck’s popularity hasn’t faded. It reappeared at SEMA in 2022 in its evolved, triple-turbo, purple-liveried form and continues to garner attention across YouTube and social media. The Apache has become the flagship of a growing fabrication brand.

And the story isn’t over. Jeffrey has publicly teased the next chapter: a 1959 Chevy build powered by a Duramax, intended to follow in the Apache’s footsteps with even more wild engineering. If the Apache is the proof of concept, the sequel may be even more unhinged.

Fame Wasn’t The Goal

The Killer Creations Apache exists at the intersection of passion, creativity, and outright mechanical madness. It’s a diesel truck built with the attitude of a sports car, the suspension of an off-roader, the aero of a time-attack machine, and the soul of a father-son project that refused to stay simple.

It was never intended to become famous, and it certainly was never meant to spark a business. But that’s the magic of builds like this: the moment you stop trying to follow the rules, you find out just how far you can push them.