Kiley's brows drew together at Pam's counting. Was that right? She realized she would have counted down by tens, not nines. But that could just be exhaustion, right? Not hypothermia. "It was cold, but not freezing," Kiley explained to Oliver, figuring he probably didn't need her freaking out on him too, even though she could feel Pam's frustration as if it was her own. They were there to help them and she was grateful for it, but she was also cold and hungry and she hated this place now. She was never coming back to this mausoleum, or even the cemetery. Ever.
She squinted and rested her head against Tobias's shoulder again. "Sixty-four.... fifty-five... forty-six?" That was right, right? If it made Oliver feel better that they could still brain adequately, then she'd do it, especially if it meant getting out of this place. Tobias murmured that he would help her up and she let him take her hands, ignoring the beef jerky pressed in her palm. Kiley got to her feet, hating the way the mausoleum spun around her for a second. She stayed close to Tobias. "What about Chase's stuff? We should put it back," she muttered, looking down at the disturbed garbage bags.