Chapter Thirty Three

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Max and Lizzie were escorted back down the tunnel and locked back in the cell by Nev and his guards.

The other prisoners briefly looked up, barely interested at who had survived the ordeal. Some eyes lingered longer as they realised two people had come back, but even they didn't care enough to comment.

"You were fucking amazing out there Max!" Lizzie cheered as soon as Nev and his goons had left.

Max smiled; who knew the thing he would be best at in life would be killing clickers. He's been waiting years to find something he could excel at. It was a pity it was something so depressing.

"Hang on, I thought last time was just a lucky shot with that knife, but what the fuck kid?! You were hitting them between the eyes every time! How did you do that?" Max asked, astonished at the skill and precision she had.

Lizzie's smile instantly wiped from her face and she looked away from him.

She mumbled something completely inaudible.

"What was that?"

Lizzie shuffled her feet and mumbled slightly louder, embarrassment painted across her face.

"Yeah, one more time, bit louder," Max chuckled, easing the information out of her.

"Magic Camp," she muttered.

Max collapsed into a heap on a nearby sofa, holding his stomach tightly as he loudly hooted.

"Magic Camp? Fucking Magic Camp?!" he cried.

"Shut up! My mum used to send me there every summer," Lizzie defended.

"And out of everything, you went for knife throwing?" Max asked, still laughing to himself.

"I was an angry kid, what can I say? I was good at it," she smirked, now seeing the funny side.

She hopped onto the sofa next to him, jamming her elbow into his side.

"And to think you were impressed with my juggling," Max chuckled.

"Well, everyone seems to be in a good mood over here," Paulo said.

Max hadn't even noticed him approach while he was laughing.

"Yeah, well, surviving feels good buddy," Max replied.

"I think it's your turn to repay the favour; I have some questions for you now," Paulo whispered, perching himself on the arm of the sofa.

"Shoot," Max said, lowering his voice too.

Something told him this wasn't a conversation Paulo wanted people overhearing.

"Firstly, how are you both still alive?" he asked with interest.

"I don't know man, for some reason that guy in charge, the guy with the glasses..."

"Patrick," Paulo informed.

"Yeah, him. He decided that two out of the three of us could walk away. The crowd seemed to love the whole team thing; I think it was just some sick way of keeping them entertained," Max explained.

"Interesting," Paulo pondered. "What about the guards? How many were there?" he asked after a few more seconds.

"Escorting us from here?" Max questioned.

Paulo nodded.

"Three," Max answered.

Paulo smiled.

"One guard for each person? I was right!" he smirked.

"Right about what?" Lizzie chimed in.

Paulo leant in closer and lowered his voice even further.

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