Page 6 of Shattered Home

Besides Murphy and Rainer now, I didn’t know where anyone else was from. I knew they weren’t from my town, it was small enough that I knew nearly everyone that lived there, and that was none of these people.

Mulling over the best way to approach this, unsure if they had gone through something traumatic and wouldn’t want to speak, I took a deep breath. And then the floodgates were open and any tact I tried to have was out the window, every question on the tip of my tongue spilling forth.

“How long have you been in the woods? Are they still setting fires? Do you know who’s setting the fires? Where is everyone else? Is this happening everywhere or just here?”

All my words blurred together and Brett finally looked up from his food, his eyes wide. Matthew had a similar expression on his face, both of them staring at me in shock.

“How long have you been in the woods?” Matthew asked, disbelief tinting his tone.

“Around three months.”

There was no way to be sure exactly how long. For a while, those with phones had kept track of the days on their calendar, but once the phones died, we had kept track mentally. I wasn’t sure how accurate our count was, but it was all we had to go on.

“Three months? Holy shit, you’ve missed everything.”

I ignored the astonishment in Matthew’s voice, solely focusing on the fact that it seemed he had information. Leaning forward, I pressed my arms against my knees, waiting for more.

“They set fires for the first two weeks. Burned nearly every town to the ground.” Matthew’s eyes shuttered as he spoke, and I wondered if he had watched his home burn. I knew mine was most likely no longer standing, but at least I didn’t have to watch as all my childhood memories caught in flames before me.

“Everyone was confused for a while. No where to go and scared. Then there was an army of sorts, corralling everyone to these camps. Said that they were going to give us shelter and food.”

“Some shelter it was,” Brett spoke for the first time, his words more of a grunt than anything else.

“We moved into the nearest shelter, but it was just dozens of tens. Two meals a day only. And there were so many people.”

“But why?” I asked, more confused than I had been before they started speaking.

It was obvious that the fires had been intentional. Even more obvious that whoever had shot my father had done so purposely. But why? And was it only happening in Montana?

Thankfully, I didn’t have to wait long for an answer, Matthew saying, “Not sure exactly why. There was some big national broadcast about a month after we settled in the camp, saying that there was a national crisis and everyone was expected to stay in the camps until there was more information. That was it.”

“That can’t possibly be it? They didn’t give you any information.”

My brain hurt from trying to come up with possibilities. Was there some sort of virus spreading through the nation? Were we on the verge of a war? And if it was either of those, why wouldn’t they tell us? And why did they burn down our homes? And most importantly, why did they kill my dad?

Obviously, I knew Matthew and Brett wouldn’t have an answer to the last question. And it seemed none of the others either. I was almost positive they had given me as much information as possible.

I opened my mouth to ask more, but realized I didn’t have anything else. The answers I had been craving for the past few months wouldn’t be found through these two strangers. They wouldn’t be able to tell me where the rest of my family was and, truly, that was all that mattered to me.

My eyes shifted toward Brett when he reached for the rice again, now his third helping, and I couldn’t bite my tongue any longer. We needed that food.

“I’m sorry, but we can’t give you any more food. We barely have enough for us.”

My words were firm but quiet, not wanting to anger them. I didn’t know these people, and desperation made people do crazy things. I didn’t want to find out if they were capable of those things.

Brett’s hand paused over the pot, his eyes scanning over me before landing on Matthew behind me. A silent message passed between the two of them and my instincts screamed at me to run. To call for someone. But I wasn’t fast enough.

“We didn’t want it to come to this.” Matthew sighed and then quicker than I could process, my body was pulled to a standing position, something cool pressing against my throat.

Glancing down, the sharp hunting knife glinted underneath the sun. The hand holding the weapon pressed gently against my throat, not enough to nick my skin, but enough that the warning was clear.

My body tightened under the threat, my muscles locking up as the fight-or-flight instinct kicked in. But the urge to do something meant nothing because I was trapped. Matthew’s hold on me was firm, an escape impossible. And even if I wanted to fight, I couldn’t.

A knot formed in my throat as the predicament fully sunk in. My eyes scanned the area, hoping for someone to walk in, but no one approached. And I realized there were only two options. I either let the two of them take everything they pleased from our camp or I screamed for help, knowing the blade would silence me in the next moment.

Chapter Five

My heart pounded against my chest, my breaths shallow as I tried to not swallow roughly, refusing to press against the knife. Brett stood up from the ground, wavering on his feet. Part of me felt sympathy for the men, they felt they didn’t have another choice. But the other part was furious. I had convinced Murphy to let them into our camp and look where that led me.

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