The Perfect Machine: Kingdom Of Glass (GxG

9. What now?

The sound of the handcuffs rattling has annoyed me ever since we left the prison in the van. I have no idea how long we have been on the road, but it feels like days in this heat. All four of us have been placed in the back, stuck to the floor by shackles.

The sweat drips down my forehead, and my mouth is as dry as the desert outside. We haven't been provided with any water or food, which is horrendous. All the girls look as if they are going to die of dehydration and starvation.

Harlow sits right in front of me, facing me on the other side. She wears her hoodie and it covers half of her face like usual. How she has not passed out is incredible.

"We need water!" One of the women shouts so loud that it rings in my ears now.

"Quiet down!" A guard in the front seat hollers back.

"If you don't give us water and food, we will die before we even arrive, and I wonder who is going to be in trouble then," The woman shouts in return.

"Women!" The guard yells out of resentment, and a couple of moments later, the van stops. We listen to them as they get out and open the back door. The sun blinds me from seeing what's going on.

"Get out!" I hear a guard shout, and I feel someone grab my hands and lose of the handcuffs. A stronghold on my arm pulls me up from my seat and to the rear of the van. I obstruct the sun with my hand and bounce down on the ground to remain close to the taller woman and the other guard.

The next person to come out is Harlow, and she gets guided by the guard next to me. We remain silent, too scared to say a word.

Broke structures encircle us. Poor men and women stare at us from their homes. Their wide eyes turn as they run back into their houses and close the door shut.

They are terrified because they know where we are going. We are sentenced to death, and they don't want to be a part of it. So maybe even if you live in misery your whole life, you still hope things will change for the better.

The heat has dried up the grass, which is now covered in sand and stones. I believe thirty- years ago, no one would have thought England would dry up like this. We used to be the country where rain poured down everywhere—grass greener than I could ever imagine as my grandfather spoke of it. He made it sound like heaven and clearly, we do not know what that is or feels.

"Don't touch me, you bastard!" The skinny woman seems to put up a fight. The guard next to us gets into the van as well. The well-built woman next to me decided to run away. I turn to Harlow and blink as thoughts race through my mind.

Without intuition, I snatch her by the wrist and pull her after me, which almost made me fall as she didn't move first. It is like pulling a tone of rock. Eventually, she follows after me and I feel her tumble. Yet, I stay calm as I run the quickest I have ever done towards one of the crumbled houses. I knock on the door desperately, yet nobody opens it.

I drag Harlow once more to the next house, and I thump as hard as I can. A short lady with long silver hair and wrinkled skin opens the entryway.

"Would we be able to come in?" I ask enthusiastically, and she gestures rapidly, making space for us to enter. She looks around before shutting the door.

"You can hide down there in the basement," She says as she leads the way to a door in the kitchen. The woman opens it, and I rush Harlow and myself down the stairs. The basement is full of boxes and trash.

"What's happening?" Harlow whispers.

"We are hiding," I say back and listen to the men shout as they look for us.

"River, we can't hide her for long," She tells me.

"Just until the man has left, then we can leave," I say, but Harlow shakes her head.

"They won't leave until they have found us. Give it thirty minutes, and the backup will arrive. We will be found here if we don't keep moving," She clarifies. I swallow hard at her words as I realize that she is correct. She has been in the military and knows how the framework functions.

"What would you do?" I ask her as I need knowledge and tactics, just like when I play chess. Be that as it may, this is certainly not a game; this is reality.

"We need to get out of these prison clothes. We need something that will camouflage better," She says, and I see a trunk on the floor. I move through the mess, trying not to make much noise. I open it up and look through the old, dusty clothes.

I managed to find two cream coloured hoodies, both of them filled with holes and rifts. They will work well for cover for now. I discover two sets of black cargo pants. Just as the hoodies, they are loaded up with rifts; however, they will work pleasantly for us.

"I found some clothes," I tell her and find my way back.

I give Harlow her hoodie and pants. She pulls down the hoodie from her head, uncovering her face, but her eyes stay shut like they generally do. I pivot and begin to undress myself to put the new garments on. Although the hoodie may be somewhat enormous as it almost reaches down to my knees, still not so much of an issue.

"I'm good," Harlow says, and I turn around as she put the hoodie over her head. I do the same thing, an excellent way to hide my face. The clothes seem to fit Harlow way better than they do for me. The hoddie reaches down to her waist where it should be and the pants are perfectly hugging her ankles. While I, on the other hand, have to fold them up.

"What now?" I ask and I wait for instructions.

"Typically, I would have security like a weapon with me into a fight,"

"Right," I say as I search around the mess and hope for a knife or a gun. I look through trunks, boxes, and even underneath the floorboards.

"Nothing to use," I sigh.

"Okay, let's get moving," I grab her warm hand and lead her back up the stairs and out the door. The woman shows up in front of us.

"Where are you going? You need to hide. They are still out there," Her eyes widen as she wants us back down in the basement.

"We can't; we need to keep moving," I say, and a moment later, she nods.

"Do you have anything that we could use as a weapon," I ask, and she looks around the living room as if she answers was lying there.

"Oh, wait here," She tells us and disappears into another room.

"It belonged to my son, but," She comes back to us with a sword in her hands.

"Since he is not here anymore, he doesn't need it," She sighs and holds it out towards me, and I grab it with both of my hands.

"I'm sorry about your son," I say as I lay my hand onto her shoulder for comfort.

"This is a horrible world to grow up in," She falls into a soft chair and keeps her head low.

"Thank you very much for your help, umm,"

"Clare," She smiles.

"Thank you, Clare."