NINETY-TWO

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Max's screamed instruction of "Gooo!" reverberated through my whole body, magnified by a roar (which sounded, frighteningly, a lot like Alex) and my surroundings were so quickly drowned out by sounds of struggle that it seemed surreal. It was as though someone had hit the play-button on a war movie in the middle of a scene where it was raining down bombs and screams.

My feet had still been outside of the passageway, but the last thing Max had done before I had lost his presence behind me, was to push at my damaged feet to get me completely into the passageway.

In the midst of the commotion and confusion, a mere second after it had all started, someone grabbed my upper arms and yanked me forward. A scream of sudden fear - the hands on my arms taking me by surprise - got stuck in my throat as I was hauled forward, the numerous grains of sand in the soil rasping against my chest and stomach, rubbing though my clothing.

I struggled against the hands. Tried to free myself. Tried to prevent whoever was pulling me from adding any more distance between Max and I.

I needed to get back there. Every little part of me was screaming to get to Max. He needed help. Maybe it was my love for him that made me reckless, or maybe it was the connection that was pulling me into the mouth of danger, but it obviously wasn't a rational wish on my part.

Because rationally, I knew that I needed to put as much distance as possible between the tunnel I came from and me. Without any proper training, I was useless out there. I would probably get myself killed instantly.

But that rationale was not enough to stop myself from swearing at the person dragging me out of the narrow passageway and into a parallel tunnel.

"What did you do?!" I asked furiously, scrambling to get my body working so that I could turn around and go back to where I had come from.

My eyes landed on my 'savior'. I only met his eyes for a moment, but it was enough to mute all words of protest at the tip of my tongue.

I was so stunned by the hardness of determination in Michael's eyes that I didn't even say anything when he rather roughly - and painfully - bumped me to the side with his shoulder, to gain access to the passageway.

My mouth fell open in speechless shock as I fell on my behind from the shove and watched how Michael ducked into the small opening before the passageway swallowed him up.

Max's protector.

Michael had left Max alone. Maybe that was not allowed... Maybe Michael was supposed to be next to Max at all times in these type of situations. That was probably the reason why Michael had looked so...frightened. Because of guilt. Because of fear of being punished for neglecting his duty.

Or... Maybe he actually cared whether Max lived or died. Maybe he was actually frightened that Max was going to get injured.

"What happened?"

My mouth hanging open in shock, my mind having trouble comprehending what was happening - what the frightening sounds being carried through the small passageway were all about - I slowly turned my head towards the voice.

Dresden was looking at me, his face hidden in shadows, his features neutral.

"Attacked," I said, my voice detached, my mouth parched. I licked my cracked lips and repeated, "Attacked. We are being attacked."

The small fine hairs on my arms were standing straight up as we were immersed in the sounds of shuffling feet, yelling, bangs, screams and electricity. Out of the corner of my eye I saw flashes of light repeatedly brightening the inside of the passageway from which I'd been extracted.

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