Chapter Twenty Nine

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Max woke up, still groggy from the knock on his head. He reached his hand behind his head to feel for a bump, but his wrist snapped back and the chinking sound of metal rang out. Max felt out with his fingers; his hands and feet were chained. At first he thought his vision was still blurred from the knock on the head, but it appeared that there was actually just very little light in the room.

"Max, is that you?" a voice whimpered from across the room.

"Lizzie?" Max called back out into the darkness.

His eyes were adjusting slightly, but he could still only just about make out her silhouette.

"Well it ain't the fucking tooth fairy," she laughed, but she was clearly terrified.

"Are you chained up too?" Max asked, voice tinged with concern.

"Wouldn't be sat over here if I wasn't, Einstein," Lizzie replied coolly.

"Where the fuck are we kid?" Max asked, ignoring her sarcasm as usual.

"I don't know," Lizzie said with a heavy sigh.

All the drama and the running and the constant fearing for her life had caught up with her. She was tired of it all.

"Soon as they knocked you out, they threw a sack over my head and chucked us both in the back of a van. Next thing I know, we're here," Lizzie explained.

"No one's come in since?" Max asked.

"No..." Lizzie replied, something clearly on her mind.

Max sat silent, waiting for her to inevitably say what she needed to. He had learned that about Lizzie; she was far too proud to admit anything personal if prompted. He had to let her tell him.

"The sack..." she started. "It was the same sack they used for Mona," she finished.

"Oh fuck me! Those sick BASTARDS!" Max barked towards the door.

"I could still smell the rotting flesh, taste the blood. She saved us Max, and look what happened to her!" Lizzie cried.

"She was already dead, she knew that. She had nothing to lose anymore. I'm sure she'd rather be where she is now than roaming around as a clicker," Max spoke softly, consoling her as best he could.

Lizzie didn't reply.

"Right?" Max prompted.

"Yeah," Lizzie sniffed. "Yeah, you're right," She added.

She was a tough girl, she'd be okay; providing Max could find a way out of here. He had a feeling that he couldn't rely on the charity of a random stranger this time. However, formulating an escape plan was hard when he didn't know where he was, and couldn't see a thing.

"Don't worry, kid, we're getting out of here. When have I ever not come up with a plan, ay?" Max joked.

"Do you want a list, or....?" Lizzie scoffed back, tears turning to laughs.

The pair continued to chuckle in the darkness as a metal lock grated from the far end of the room. The rough sound of metal on metal filled their ears, and sunlight burst in through a now open door.

"Well, I'm glad spirits are high in here," a voice announced from the doorway. "Unshackle them. It's time to move them into the pre-match holding cell," the man ordered, presumably to someone standing behind him.

"What do you mean the pre-match fucking cell?" Max yelled towards the man.

"Pre-match holding cell," the man corrected in a cocky manner. "Now take them away," he ordered before turning on his heels and exiting, leaving four men to enter the room and begin unshackling Max and Lizzie.

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