The words hung there in the darkness. Nick didn’t say anything.
Chris kept moving.
“You’re close,” said Nick. “I can hear you.”
“Good.” So Chris rushed.
Stupid. His hand came down on something solid, with a slight give. Fabric over skin. Plus something with an edge that scraped against the side of his hand.
Then Nick was yelling and Chris flung himself back.
Nothing was worse than listening to his brother scream in the darkness. Chris slapped his hands over his ears, then felt like a total wuss.
He jerked his hands down. “I’m sorry.” God, it sounded like he was about to start crying. “Nick—I’m sorry—”
“Chris.” Nick’s screams had given way to ragged breathing.
“Yeah.” Chris kept his hands tight against his stomach. What had he felt? Had that been bone? Couldn’t you bleed out from a compound fracture?
“Don’t do that again.” Nick was sweating now—Chris could feel that. Every drop whispered pain.
Sweating meant shock, right? Or something else?
He should have paid more attention in freshman Health.
“Jesus, Nick—I’m sorry—I didn’t—” He didn’t what? He didn’t mean to poke his brother’s broken leg?
“Stop apologizing.” Nick’s voice sounded breathy. “Look, I think my phone might still be in my pocket.”
A phone! But Chris couldn’t force his hand to reach out. “Do you want me to untie you first, or—”
“I’m lying on my hands.” Nick gave a rough laugh. “And I don’t think moving would be a good idea.”
Chris would give anything for a bare hint of light. “Okay. We’ll call Mike or Gabriel, and they’ll have us out of here in, like, five minutes—”
“Oh yeah? Where’s here?”
That threw him. Chris didn’t have an answer. He didn’t even know how long he’d been unconscious.
He didn’t even know if it was day or night.
“Stop thinking,” said Nick. His voice was losing the thready current of shock, and now carried a tremor of pain. He sounded like he was clenching his teeth. “Just find it.”
Chris steeled his nerves. This time he traced the seam of the pants with the barest edge of his fingertips. The fabric was bunched and torn in places. Chris tried not to think of what that might mean.
At least Nick was conscious. Good, right? He should probably keep him talking.
“Gabriel’s going to be pissed.”
It took Nick a second to answer. “Why?”
“He’ll have to break his leg so people won’t be able to tell you apart.”
Nick snorted. A laugh. Good!
Then he said, “This room is airtight, Chris.”
“How much air do we have?”