by Jenkins, Seb
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, kid; 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.
“Unshackled 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 muscly and broad but unarmed. Max assumed this was so him 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 zombies…sometimes we have to fight…each other.” Paulo explained, unable to look up from
his feet.
“Fight zombies? 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.”
Chapter Thirty
Max looked back in disbelief.
“We die? What do you mean we fucking die? Why do you all just sit back and take this; why not fight back against them?” Max said accusingly.
“Ha, you think people haven’t tried fighting their way out? Believe me, big groups of strong men and women have tried that. Big groups have failed. Big groups were slaughtered,” Paulo explained as if it was nothing.
“Well we can’t just sit here and let this happen!” Max shouted to the entire room.
No one batted an eyelid. No one even glanced over at him.
“My friend, it is simple; you fight to survive. That’s just how it is here. Hopefully one day we will break free but until then, just don’t die.” Paulo advised, and with that he was gone, off to his own section of the room.
Max could feel Lizzie’s eyes on him, begging him for a solution. He wasn’t ready to meet her gaze yet. He wasn’t ready to lie to her and tell her it would be okay. For once, Max didn’t think he could get them out of this; he was out of ideas.
He couldn’t just give up. He had to look busy, keep trying at least; even if it was to just put Lizzie’s mind slightly at rest. He pushed himself up from the sofa, ruffling Lizzie’s hair before walking to the far end of the room.
Walking away he could here Lizzie mumbling, “What am I, a fucking child?”
Max strode confidently over to the corner in which the topless man still laid, curled up in a ball. His head was shaved short, and his features looked young. He couldn’t have been more than twenty-five. Blood still stained his topless body, and as Max got closer he could even see dried blood under the man’s fingernails.
Max crouched down, putting himself at the man’s height. He seemed unstable, the last thing Max wanted to do was startle him.
“Hi, I’m Max, my friend Lizzie and I were wondering if you could answer a few questions,” Max said softly, gesturing towards Lizzie.
The man looked at Max, then at Lizzie, then back at Max.
“She’s scared man, she shouldn’t be here,” Max added.
The fact that Max was travelling with a teenage girl seemed to put the man at ease. It made Max seem a lot less threatening.
The man nodded.
“I’m Taylor,” he spoke quietly, trembling still.
“Taylor, what happened out there? What did you have to do?” Max asked, trying to keep everything as calm as possible.
“I don’t know man. I only got here yesterday. Then they led me out there and…” Taylor whimpered.
“Then what happened mate?” Max questioned.
“They put me in a ring, said I had to fight, and if I won I could come back here. I’ve never even killed one of those things. They were people man!” Taylor said, getting louder and louder; more and more worked up.
“How many were there Taylor?”
“I don’t know, like twenty, twenty-five maybe. At least I didn’t have to…you know…an actual living person,” Taylor sobbed, curling back up.
“Thank you Taylor,” Max said, putting a hand on the man’s shoulder and gripping it tightly for a second. He then patted him twice on the back and stood up once more, returning to the sofa he had left Lizzie on.
“What did you ask him?” Lizzie demanded instantly.
“Just trying to find out more about what we have to fight out there. Seems like Taylor over there had to fend off a whole horde,” Max explained.
“Just clickers? We can deal with that,” Lizzie smirked.
Max smiled back at her, at least her spirits were higher than his.
“I’m just concerned about who else we might have to fight,” Max admitted.
“You mean if they put me up against one of these guys on my own?” Lizzie asked, easily reading Max.
Max didn’t reply. How could he?
“Well we’ll cross that bridge when we could to it. Plus, I could beat the shit out of most of this lot anyway,” Lizzie said a little too loudly.
A few nearby people turned their heads to size Lizzie up.
Max laughed.
“Let’s not start the fight until we’re out there, kid.”
“At least we have time to come up with a plan,” Lizzie suggested.
This was a good point; they should probably come up with some kind of game plan, Max thought.
Just as Max opened his mouth to agree, the main metal door screeched open and one man entered, with a few others standing guard outside.
The man had a scrap of paper. He looked down at it and read aloud clearly.
“Max!” he shouted.
Max’s heart dropped, Lizzie gasped, and the two looked at each other. It didn’t look like he would have much time for a game plan after all.
“Taylor!” The man continued reading.
Taylor shot to his feet immediately, unable to believe what he was hearing.
“What?!” he screamed.
“No! There must be some kind of mistake! I was only out there half an hour ago! It can’t be me again!”
The man sucked in a huge puff of air.
“Oh I’m sorry sir, there must have been a mistake; let me check again,” he replied to the shaking Taylor.
“Yes, yeah, that’ll be it, a mistake!” Taylor stammered.
“Nope, Taylor it is,” the man smirked, sadistically toying with the man in front of him.
Taylor collapsed to his knees, whimpering and crying into his hands.
Max despised himself for it, but part of him was thinking how easy it would be to beat him. Would he be able to though? To kill another man? He honestly had no idea; it was something he never wanted to find out. But he would…soon.
“You’ll be fine Max, make sure you get yourself back here safe.” Lizzie said, softly tugging at his jacket.
“Oh I almost forgot; and Lizzie!” The man announced, reading from his paper.
He grinned evilly over at the two of them.
“You have ten minutes to prepare. Good luck,” he winked, before exiting the room and locking the door behind him.
Chapter Thirty-One
Taylor was still crying and ranting in the centre of the room, tugging at his own hair and slamming his hand on the ground.
“Shit. Shit. Shit. Okay kid, we need a plan here,” Max said desperately.
“Do you happen to have one?” Lizzie asked.
“Give me a second, give me a second,” Max said, unable to think of any way out of this.
Lizzie was going to have to fight. Would they both be able to walk out of this? It didn’t matter; Max would make sure she did, even if it meant that he had to die. He had never been afraid of dying.
Max ran to the other side of the room where Paulo was now sitting.
“Has this ever happened before? Have they ever thrown three people out there?” Max asked
him quickly.
“A couple of times my friend,” Paulo replied coolly.
Max opened his mouth again, but Paulo already knew what he would ask.
“Only one has ever returned. I’m sorry,” he said, with genuine feeling.
Max thought for a second. He had assumed this would be the case, so he didn’t linger on it.
“Listen. Lizzie’s walking out of this, I’ll make sure of it. Just do me a favour and look out for her if I don’t make it back,” Max ordered; he didn’t ask.
Paulo nodded, and as Max turned to walk back towards Lizzie, he called out.
“Good luck my friend. Really, good luck.”
Max half smiled and nodded in appreciation.
“What was that about?” Lizzie asked inquisitively.
“Nothing. Just asking for a few tips is all,” Max explained.
“Listen kid, when we’re out there, I don’t know what the fuck they’re going to throw at us, but just keep behind me at all times, okay?!” Max ordered.
Lizzie went to argue, but Max cut her off.
“I mean it kid; if we’re going to get out of this, you have to listen to me!”
“Okay,” Lizzie agreed begrudgingly.
“We’ll be fine kid; we’ll be fine,” Max said, trying to comfort himself more than anything.
Max and Lizzie composed themselves in silence, and before they knew it, a bunch of guards returned to escort them to the pit.
“I’m Nev, I’m in charge of the contestants here. If you would, follow me and I’ll take you up to the weapons area,” a new man stated.
“You say it as if this is voluntary,” Max snarled.
“We get weapons?” Lizzie asked, concentrating more clearly on the task at hand.
“Well of course; the audience expects a show,” Nev smiled.
Lizzie shot a glance at Max. She looked more confident. They both knew Max was a good fighter, and Lizzie was handy with a knife; but neither of them truly knew what they would have to face.
Taylor was mumbling under his breath to himself. Max couldn’t tell if he was praying, or just talking to himself. Whatever the case, he was looking more unhinged by the minute, and Max was wary of that. He had the look of a man who would do anything to survive. Anything.