What's next?
In the night
The truck settled into a deep quiet, the only sounds the far-off yips of something hunting and the slow tick of metal contracting in the night cold. The air inside grew heavy with the smell of old seats and unsettled dust.
Lena twisted in her sleep, whispering about sweets she hadn’t seen in years. Rina didn’t move at all, one hand curled loosely around the hilt of the knife she kept in her boot. Morning came slowly, grey light seeping through the slit windows until everything in the compartment was washed in pale, gritty gold. Time to move.
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