The sharp thwack of Tidwell dealing a fresh hand of cards echoed in the dim lounge.
Elias picked up his hand, staring at the faded, dog-eared edges of the paper. He tried to fan them out, but his knuckles were stiff, the joints swollen and throbbing from deflecting Colby's two-hundred-percent baseline strikes earlier in the day. Every shallow breath he took dragged against his fractured ribs.
He didn't care about the game. He just needed the distraction.
Beneath his boots, a low, mechanical hum vibrated through the metal floorboards.
At first, Elias thought it was just the heavy ventilation cycling air through Cube X. But the vibration climbed higher, shifting from a dull drone to a sharp, rattling frequency that vibrated straight through the soles of his shoes and into his teeth.
Paul stopped leaning against the wall. He pushed himself upright, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the ceiling. "Do you guys hear that?"
