Broken That Easy

The wind howled outside, rattling the loose boards of the farmhouse like an animal trying to tear its way in. The rain had started as a whisper against the tin roof, but now it pounded in furious sheets, punctuated by cracks of lightning that illuminated the skeletal trees outside. The storm had arrived in full force, and Lily couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t just the weather raging—something deeper, something more personal, was about to be torn open.

She kept her breathing even, her body limp in the chair as the men rummaged through the house. Her wrists ached from the rope binding them, but she ignored the pain. Instead, she focused on their voices, their movements, the way they tore through drawers and overturned furniture. She needed information. She needed to understand what they wanted, what they thought they would find.

Marcus had left her behind, but why had they come here now? And what did they think she had?

One of the men cursed under his breath as a drawer hit the floor with a clatter.

“Nothing. There’s nothing here,” a gruff voice said.

“There has to be,” another answered. “He wouldn’t have broken that easy if he wasn’t sure.”

Lily’s stomach twisted. He wouldn’t have broken that easy.

They were talking about Marcus.

“Two weeks. She could’ve left, could’ve taken it with her,” the first voice argued.

The second man scoffed. “Nah. He didn’t think she’d still be here. He just hoped she wasn’t.”

Lightning flared, casting jagged shadows across the walls, and Lily’s world tilted on its axis.

Marcus had told them where to find her.

She had spent two weeks wondering if he would come back. Two weeks convincing herself he had left for a good reason. That he hadn’t abandoned her. That maybe something had happened to him.

And all along, he had known where she was.

He had given her up.

A slow, seeping sickness spread through her limbs. Her Marcus—the man who had held her in the dark, who had whispered reassurances against her hair, who had promised they would survive this world together—had betrayed her. Whether out of fear, desperation, or self-preservation, he had sold her location to men who now tore through this house like scavengers. She’d spent three years with him, and now this?

A bitter thought pushed its way into her mind, unbidden and sharp. Had he always been that man?

Lily had believed Marcus was a good person. He had been her rock, her protector. But what if that had been a lie? What if he had simply become the man he thought she wanted him to be? 

Or what if he had never changed at all?

Her pulse thundered in her ears, almost drowning out their voices as they continued their search, papers and books being thrown about the room as though they were nothing.

“Check the walls,” one of them muttered. “If it’s not in the open, it could be stashed somewhere.”

Another voice—deeper, more measured—spoke up. “It’s not here. And she doesn’t have it.” 

In spite of the reassurance of it not being there, Lily could hear hard objects being thrown and smashed into the walls hard enough to break through the plaster. Holes began forming around them, the wood slats beneath the plaster splintering across the room. 

“She might know where it is.”

There was a pause. Lily could hear them shifting, boots scuffing against the floorboards.

“She’s been out this whole time,” one of them pointed out. “If she wakes up, we ask. Nicely.”

“And if she doesn’t answer?”

A tense silence stretched between them before the deep voice responded. “Then we stop asking nicely.”

Lily’s muscles tensed, but she forced herself to stay still. Her heart pounded as she tried to piece together what they were looking for.

“She’s got to know where it is. There aren’t many of these places around, and everyone thought they were nuts for building them when they did, but can you imagine the food stores they must still have?” 

A bunker.

They thought Marcus had a map to a bunker. And they thought he had left it here.

“Shut up,” another responded, fearful he might be giving away too much information. “The walls have ears, remember?”

Lily’s mind shifted to Hep. She wondered if they’d spotted him and if he was really going to keep his promise to return for her. 

The wind outside screamed against the farmhouse, rattling the windows in their frames. The sound almost masked the next words spoken in that deep, measured voice.

“He didn’t just give us her location. He told us she wouldn’t know about it. Said he kept it from her.” He scoffed. “By then he was in so much pain I have to believe him.” 

Lily’s chest tightened. Kept what from me? So much pain?

Another voice scoffed. “Still don’t buy it. If she was living with him, she had to know something. Maybe she didn’t know about the map, but she knew him. Knew what he was up to. He wasn’t as clean as he made himself out to be. Nobody could be dumb enough to believe that charade for three years.”

The deep voice hummed in thought. “Maybe. Doesn’t matter. If she’s no use, we move on.”

Move on. That meant one thing—Lily wouldn’t be leaving this house alive if they decided she had nothing to offer. A group like this wouldn’t leave dead ends.

A chair scraped against the floor, and she heard a man sigh. “I still don’t get why he gave her up so easy. If she meant anything to him, wouldn’t he have held out longer?”

Silence stretched before another voice muttered, “Maybe she never meant that much to him.”

The words struck deeper than they should have. Lily had believed in Marcus, in the love they had shared, but now she saw the cracks. Had he ever truly been hers, or had he been playing a role—one he abandoned the second his own survival was at stake?

The floorboards creaked, and she risked a careful slit of her eyelid to get another glimpse of the men. She saw movement—a figure shifting in the dim light. He was taller than the others, broader, and when the next flash of lightning illuminated the room, she saw his face again.

The burn scars that covered the left side of his angry and twisted face pulled at the corner of his mouth. His greasy hair clung to his forehead. He looked like he had been through hell and had never quite come back.

Before she could react, his gaze snapped to her.

Lily squeezed her eyes shut, hoping he hadn’t noticed, but it was too late.

A heavy hand cracked across her face, jerking her head sideways with the force of the blow. Pain exploded through her cheek, her skin burning where his knuckles had landed.

“Wake up,” he growled. “We need to talk.”

So much for asking nice.

The storm raged on outside, wind and rain hammering against the house, but it wasn’t the only thing about to break.

She tasted blood in her mouth and forced herself to lift her head. The room swayed, the pain radiating through her skull, but she locked eyes with the scarred man. If he thought she would beg, he was wrong. She clenched her jaw, swallowing the fear rising in her throat.

He smirked. “Good. You’re awake.”

Lily steadied herself. She didn’t know what they wanted, but she knew one thing—they wouldn’t get it easily.

Outside, the wind howled, and lightning split the sky. The storm wasn’t done yet.

And neither was she.