The Prison Project (by Bethany Donaghy) novel Chapter 6

Margot’s POV

The air beneath the bus was thick with the scent of rubber and gasoline, a stale, cloying mix that clung to the back of my throat as Cara and I squeezed ourselves into the farthest corner of the luggage compartment.

The space was cramped, barely wide enough for us to stretch out fully due to the masses of bags and random cardboard boxes, but the surrounding suitcases and duffel bags provided just enough cover to keep us out of sight which was the main thing.

I shifted, adjusting my position between two large hard–shell suitcases, pressing my back against the cool metal frame of the bus. My pulse was still racing from the sheer nerve of what we were doing- sneaking onto a damn bus like we were criminals on the run.

Cara settled in beside me, her knees drawn up to her chest as she wedged herself between a few oversized travel bags. She let out a shaky breath before turning to me, a slow grin creeping across her face.

“I gotta say, Margot,” she whispered, nudging me with her elbow. “I didn’t think you had this kind of rebellion in you.”

I scoffed, though I couldn’t help but smirk. “Yeah, well, desperate times and all that.”

“Desperate and ballsy as hell,” she added. “I mean, I’m usually the one coming up with the crazy ideas. But this? This was all you girl – I’m proud.” Cara commended me, as I felt somewhat accomplished.

The pride in her voice sent a strange warmth through my chest. I wasn’t the reckless one, not usually. That was always Cara–Cara who took risks, who lived without thinking too much about the consequences. But this time, it had been me. I had thought of this plan. I had taken the risk.

And now, here we were successfully on our way to Meadowbank for free!

–

The bus gave a sudden jolt, and my stomach flipped as the engine roared to life. The vibration of it rumbled through the metal floor beneath us, making the walls tremble slightly as the vehicle eased into motion. My fingers curled into the fabric of my hoodie, my breath hitching as the realisation hit.

We were doing it. We were actually on our way to embark on some fucked up prisoner experiment – neither of us fully knowing what that even meant!

Cara let out a quiet laugh from beside me, the sound barely audible over the steady hum of the moving bus. “Holy shit,” she murmured. “We’re actually pulling this off we’re gonna get that damn money.”

“Yeah but what exactly do you think we’ll need to do to get it? Do you think we’ll have to visit them regularly? Probably just chat to them, right?” I suggest, as Cara chews her lip in thought.

“Well for that money… surely there’s more to it than just chats? I guess we will find out when we arrive…” Cara adds, making my anxiety spike.

What exactly was this experiment?

What did they expect from us?

“The main thing is, we’ve done it!” Cara nods firmly, happy enough to be here on the bus.

“For now,” I reminded her. “We still have to make it all the way to Meadowbank without getting caught – don’t rush ahead.”

She exhaled, rolling her head against the soft duffel bag she was using as a pillow. “Right. Which is why we need to keep count of how many stops we hit or else we’ll miss the damn place.”

I nodded, my mind sharpening as I focused on the task ahead. “You said six stops before Meadowbank, right?”

–

what we had already done thus far settled over me like a heavy The weight of what we were doing what we had already done thus far blanket. We were fugitives in our own way, sneaking out of town without a word, without looking back.

And yet, despite the discomfort, despite the uncertainty, I felt something I don’t quite think I had ever felt…

Freedom…

A reckless, breathless kind of freedom that made my heart pound with a thrill I couldn’t quite name.

I didn’t know what Meadowbank would hold for us. I didn’t know if we’d even make it there without being thrown off this bus and dragged back to the place we were so desperate to escape from.

But for now, at least, we were moving forward.

And that was enough hope for me.