Page 9 of Shattered World

Murphy led us toward the kitchen, our steps wary, not sure what we should do. However, when the smell of something baking hit my nose, my stomach grumbled, reminding me we hadn’t eaten since this morning.

A man stood at the stove, stirring something in a pot, and he turned when we were only a few steps behind. His eyes widened for a second before a genuine smile graced his lips.

“Caroline called up, said we had several new guests.” He wiped his hands against a hand towel before reaching one out to Murphy. “My name is Matthew.”

Murphy shook his hand, introducing himself, before Matthew turned down the line, allowing us each to give him our names.

“You’re just in time for dinner. Everyone should be gathering in a few minutes,” Matthew said and, as if on cue, several more people entered through the door, heading straight for the kitchen.

The others that were in the room stood from their spots as Matthew took a casserole out of the oven. Like a practiced routine, people gathered plates and silverware, everyone lining up single file.

The eight of us stood still as statues, all of us unsure of what to do. My eyes warily traveled around the group, met with kind smiles from each person I made eye contact with. Months ago, I would have immediately jumped into the line, starting aconversation with whoever I stood next to. But it had been too long since this many strangers had been willing to hand out help with no expectations in return.

Matthew must have sensed our unease, ushering us toward the line. “Please, join us. I promise I will explain everything.”

His words seemed to snap us out of our trance and silently we all filed to the back of the line. Piling my plate full of casserole, meat, and vegetables, I wandered over to one of the tables. Sitting next to a woman around my age, Murphy sat on my other side, Mina, Sasha, and Aiden taking the other available seats.

Elizabeth and the twins found spots at a separate table, one filled with four other children and who I assumed were their parents.

As soon as everyone was seated, Matthew taking the last seat at our table, conversation ceased as they began to eat. My body buzzed with the urge to ask questions, but I bit my tongue, taking small bites of food as I allowed Matthew to eat his own meal.

After a solid twenty minutes passed, most of the meal finished, I knew I couldn’t hold off any longer. No matter how everyone acted, thiswasn’tnormal. At least, not anymore.

A million questions overlapped in my mind, but I settled on the easiest one. “What is this place?”

Although the room had already been quiet, I suddenly felt all sets of eyes on me. Murphy’s hand reached for mine underneath the table, our fingers lacing together.

Matthew pushed his plate to the side, settling his elbows on the table and leaning toward me. The friendly man he had been so far faded as a serious frown graced his lips.

“Several months ago, my family and I were sitting in our living room. It was a normal afternoon. Until it wasn’t.” A somber expression blanketed his features, the woman at his side squeezing his shoulder.

Their eyes connected, the same shade of blue, and I realized that must be his daughter.

Clearing his throat, Matthew continued, “We didn’t know what was happening. Corralled out of our homes, into guarded areas, all of us confused. Until a week ago, we heard a message. The guards tried to prevent us from hearing, but they couldn’t override the system.”

Murmurs spread throughout the room, agreements of something similar happening to them. Instinctually, my hand squeezed Murphy’s tighter. It was his message they had heard.

“After we learned the truth, there were riots among the people. The guards didn’t stand a chance. Although some lives were lost.”

Again, Matthew shared a look with his daughter. I wondered how many people in this room had lost someone they loved. How many more we would lose before this was all over.

“Eventually, we got answers. They told us we could find safety in Chicago, not too far from our home in Wisconsin. Gathering as many people as we could, we walked here. Imagine our surprise when the city seemed to still be thriving.”

Jumping on his statement, I asked, “How is that possible? Our towns were burned to the ground.”

That aspect of the situation had been nagging at the back of my mind since we entered the city and I sat forward in my seat, needing more answers.

Matthew opened his mouth to respond, but his eyes glanced over the others in the room. For the hundredth time since we entered Chicago, the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, my gut twisting with unease.

Either Matthew didn’t want to say the entire truth in front of certain members in this room, or he was hiding something.

“Why don’t we finish this conversation elsewhere?” His question was more of a statement, implying that his next words were meant for privacy.

Nodding, I pushed away from the table, the others immediately standing with me. Matthew eyed each of us, but if he thought he was going to separate us, he had another thing coming.

Staring him down with a defiant chin, he nodded, gesturing toward the door at the back of the room. Before we exited, I found Elizabeth’s eyes, wondering if she wanted to be included. With a subtle shake of her head, she moved her attention back to Stephanie and Lucas.

Following Matthew past the door, we entered the long hallway, hotel rooms dotted with numbers.

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