Rhys stirs with a groan and my attention snaps back to him.
“Rhys?” I gently nudge him with my knee. “Wake up.”
He groans again and his eyelashes flutter before he opens those familiar amber eyes. Only they’re clouded with a mixture of pain and grogginess. “Ollie?” He jerks his hand, only to frown when it meets the resistance of the metal handcuffs. “What…?” He blinks and glances around, his eyes widening when he takes in the room. “Oh,fuck.”
I nod because that’s about the only appropriate response for the situation we’re in.
“Are you injured?” he asks, dragging those amber eyes over my body.
I’m grateful he doesn’t ask if I’m okay, because there isnothingokay about where we are. “I have a headache and I’m a little sore, but nothing feels broken or anything.”
“Good,” he grunts and tries to sit up. But the wound on his head must make him dizzy because he moans out a curse and immediately plops back down onto the cold, hard concrete.
I shuffle closer to him until my knees are close to his head. “Here, put your head in my lap. It’ll be more comfortable than the floor.”
He clenches his jaw and hesitates before sighing and heaving himself up until his head lands on my thighs. With his head in a more comfortable position, the tension melts from his back and shoulders, and he breathes out a sigh. “Do you know anything about where we might be?”
I shake my head, then immediately regret it as the world swims.Ugh. I blink a few times until I no longer feel like I’m sitting on a boat in the middle of the ocean. “Just that we’re in a garage somewhere.” The broken window in the garage door is too high for me to see out of, even if I could stand. Rhys will have better luck reaching it, but he’s struggling to be upright, let alone stand.
He grunts as he glances around the barren room, his gaze assessing. I can see the cogs turning in his mind, no doubt trying to figure a way out of this mess with both of us alive. While it’s a shitty thought, I’m glad I’m not in this situation alone.
“No one’s visited?”
“I was only awake for a few minutes before you.”
He grunts, his eyes lingering on the broken window for a moment. “Judging from how high the sun is in the sky, it’s around midday, which means it’s been at least eighteen hours since we were abducted.”
“How far from Haven do you think we are?” Eighteen hours gives the Scourge plenty of time to cart us far from the community, making our escape even less likely to succeed.
“I don’t think we’re that far.”
“How do you know that?” I glance around the room again, wondering if I missed some hidden clue. But there’s nothing but bare concrete, breeze block walls and those damned stains on the garage door.
“This place has been used before.” He inclines his head towards the claw marks on the wooden door and the stains. “Which means it’s a safe house or base of operations of some sort. Combine that with the missing people from the supply teams, which I’m now certain is the Scourge’s handiwork, and I think we’re only about an hour or so from Haven.”
My eyebrows shoot upward. He got all ofthatfrom some stains and marks on a door?
His lips twist into a wry smile at my expression. “This isn’t the first time I’ve ended up a captive in enemy hands.”
I eye him. “During your service?” I ask hesitantly.
He nods curtly, darkness seeping into his eyes. “It was my second mission and let’s just say, it didn’t go to plan.” He averts his gaze and, without warning, shoves himself upright.
I curse and scramble over to wedge myself behind him, supporting him as he sways precariously. “A warning would have been nice,” I grumble. “Last thing we need is for you to add to the concussion you probably already have.”
His pale face contorts into a grimace, but he doesn’t protest.
We stay like that for a few minutes, the warmth from his solid body offering a little comfort. But it barely touches the chill that’s settled deep into my bones, both from the icy air and the knowledge that we’recaptives of monsters. It’s only once he’s steady that he shifts away from me and shuffles over to the garage door first.
I move over to the wall and watch him, staying silent as he examines it before grunting and moving to the wooden door. Every now and again, I see him pull at the handcuffs and then curse when his hand doesn’t move, almost as if he forgets they’re cuffed behind his back. After investigating the door, he shuffles back over to me and leans against the wall with a pained grunt.
“We’re going to have to wait,” he says with a heavy sigh and closes his eyes, exhaustion etched onto his face.
I figured as much. Even if there was something in here to help us pick the lock, our hands being cuffed behind our backs makes that impossible. Plus, we’re still shaky and weak; both from our injuries and the lack of food and water. Our best bet will be to wait for an opportunity.
I shift, getting more comfortable as the silence stretches between us. My eyelids grow heavier with each minute, the adrenaline and panic that had been powering me earlier dissipating as nothing happens. I’m not sure how long we doze against the wall before I hear the first sound of footsteps outside the door.
We both jerk awake.
