Blaze nodded, fumbled for Arik, and when he found nothing else within reach, he gripped Arik’s arm. He squeezed through the weave of the jacket and the cotton of Arik’s shirt. “Thank you.”
“Get him out,” Arik hissed at Lucas, doing everything in his power to force his own senses back to reality. “I need to get him out of here.”
Lucas rushed both of them, dropping to his knees. “What’s happening?”
“Nothing good,” Arik mumbled. “They’re trying to bleed him out.”
“They—?” Lucas stopped, bit his lip, and even Arik could tell Lucas was reconsidering his question. Perhaps, some things didn’t need to be known. “Why?”
Arik’s hands fisted in Blaze’s shirt. He dragged Blaze closer. “Does it look like I have the time to explain this to you? Look at him…watch!”
Blaze’s body buckled in a grotesque pantomime of some poor soul being served an alarming dose of electro-shock therapy.
Arik swore, and Lucas gasped.
“I can call a priest…or…someone…” Lucas looked up, his eyes desperate.