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.
The men were all tall, way over six foot. They were muscular and broad but unarmed. Max assumed this was so he and Lizzie couldn't swipe any weapons and turn against them. The men had clearly been chosen for the job because there was no way Max could overpower them. He hated to admit it, but again, this wasn't the shot at escape he so desperately wanted. He would have to wait.
"Don't try anything man," one henchman warned Max.
"Yeah, this deal will be a lot harder if you have a broken leg, believe me," another one chuckled.
Max nodded.
He looked over at Lizzie and threw her a quick smile, just to settle her nerves. In all honesty, he'd probably back her in a fight against these guys anyway. He laughed to himself.
"Where are you taking us? At least tell us that!" Lizzie demanded, slapping away the hand of one guard as he tried to lift her to her feet. "And I can stand pretty well on my own, thanks!" she added.
"I'm sorry, we can't tell you anything, but you'll know soon enough, I promise," the guard next to Lizzie said, with a strange hint of remorse.
He looked as if he really didn't want to be here, like none of this sat well with him. Max guessed if you were infected and alone, there weren't many places you could turn to. This was probably some people's last resort.
The guard attempted to grab hold of Lizzie's wrist this time, trying to lead her towards the door. Again, she slapped it away.
"Lizzie. Let's just go with them and see what's what, yeah?" Max said calmly, in an attempt to quieten her down a bit.
Sometimes she did more bad than good when she was like this.
Lizzie trusted Max, and so did as she was told, but not without shooting a snarling glare at the guard when he took her wrist once again.
The pair were led out into the beating sun. It was a warm day for England. In truth, Max had no idea how long they had been locked in that room; the last thing he could remember was Otto's evil grin before he was knocked out.
They seemed to be in some kind of compound. It was a large open space, fenced off from the wider world. It could have made a nice little community, if it wasn't for the people who ran it. Max didn't get much of a chance to take in his surroundings before they stopped in front of a new building. This one at least had windows, Max thought.
After fiddling with the lock, one of the guards pulled open the door, leading them into a small corridor. He then used a separate key to open a thick, iron, cell-like door, which led into a large common room area. It was filled with about twenty people of various ages, all of whom had their eyes glued on the newcomers.
The room was filled with armchairs and sofas, and a water cooler sat in the corner. It was far more comfortable, warm, and welcoming than Max had expected. If it wasn't for the cell door and bars on the windows, it would have been a nice place to chill out.
The guards ushered Max and Lizzie inside before locking the two doors behind them. None of them said a word as they left. Max and Lizzie still had no idea why they were here.
Max looked around the sea of faces, hoping that one of them would enlighten him on the situation.
They didn't.
Most of them wandered back to their various corners of the room, not communicating in large groups at all.
Max walked over to the water cooler, pouring a drink for both him and Lizzie. He made eye contact with one nearby man and took this opportunity to find out whatever he could.
"Max," he said, extending his hand in greeting.
The man sighed, clearly hoping to avoid such an interaction.
"Paulo," he replied, meeting Max's hand and shaking it firmly.
"This is Lizzie," Max introduced immediately afterwards, before Paulo also shook her hand.
Paulo was older than Max; he must have been in his late forties, maybe even fifties. He had slicked back brown hair which was slightly messy. This and the heavy stubble gave the impression that he had been here a while. He wasn't a large man, but his body was toned. His dark brown eyes looked Max and Lizzie up and down before he smiled a pearly white smile.
"Welcome to the pit, my friends," he laughed, trying to make light of the situation.
He spoke with a soft Italian accent that seemed friendly and welcoming.
"I'm sorry, we don't even know what the pit is. I have so many questions," Max explained, praying Paulo would be able to shed some light.
Paulo sighed again. For some reason the people in here didn't want anything to do with each other, but grudgingly he obliged.
"Take a seat," Paulo said, nodding towards the sofa in front of him.
Both Lizzie and Max perched on the edge of the sofa. They wanted to relax, lay back, even sleep for a while, but they had to know more.
"What is the pit? Why are we here? Where are we? Why are we locked in here? Why is no one talki...?" Max rattled out everything on his mind, but he was stopped by Paulo's raised hand.
"The pit is just a fucked up way for the bastards upstairs to keep themselves entertained. There's a large fenced off area, like a ring, or a pit, and once every day or two they force us to fight," Paulo explained casually.
"Fight? What the fuck do you mean fight?" Max demanded.
"I mean fight. They pick one of us, or a couple of us, then they march us up to the pit. Sometimes we have to fight the dead...sometimes we have to fight...each other." Paulo explained, unable to look up from his feet.
"Fight the dead? Each other? Why the fuck would they make you do that?" Max asked, already scared for Lizzie's safety.
"Who knows man, it's fun for them to watch. Stops those mental fucks from killing each other, I guess. All I know is that if you win, you survive; that's all I care about. Until I find a way out of here that's what I'm going to do. If you get in my way, I'm sorry," Paulo said honestly.
"A way out? Is there one? Have you found anything?" Lizzie asked, voice full of hope.
Paulo just shook his head.
Max's brain was running wild trying to figure out how to get out of here. What if they made Lizzie fight alone? How would she even begin to survive?
As Max was thinking, the cell door was thrown open, and a topless man was pushed in. He tumbled to the floor, before crawling into the far corner of the room, shaking and trembling.
"Looks like he won," Paulo commented. "Sometimes I wonder if it's better to win or lose," he added, quietly.
"What...what if we don't fight? What if I refuse?!" Max said defiantly.
"Simple my friend. Then you die."