The Appliance Uprising Series

Three months. Ninety days since Rumblestone.

The setting sun bleeds orange and pink across the lake, painting ripples on the water’s surface. Three weeks.

Vessa squirms free and lunges. The knife glints purple.

My hands fumble with the crinkled paper Garrick shoved against my skin. I hold them behind my back, out of sight.

Heading into Rumblestone, we roll past the first few buildings. Shuttered windows stare like empty eyes.

Damp air, thick with mildew and rust, clings to my skin. My hands scream where the rough rope bites into my wrists.

“The same as always, dear friend. Power. Though I must say, your human is far more interesting than mine. Such delicious determination.”

Mom’s face is a mask of shock, her eyes wide with a fear that mirrors my own churning gut. “Archie.