The lactic acid was overflowing from Max's burning thighs as he continued to drive them like grinding pistons, away from the death and misery behind. Lizzie's limp body flopped over his shoulder, desperately trying to slump free at every given opportunity. His arms gripped her tighter than anything he had ever held, unwilling to let her slip from his grasp for a single second, even if it meant storming through a field of bullets.
They had been running for two minutes now, and the towering castle still loomed over them, but the hailstorm of shrapnel and screaming had ceased, leaving behind it an eerie silence that was somehow even more disturbing. As if The Brotherhood were secretly plotting, or tracking them from a distance, but these were just Max's wildest, most paranoid thoughts.
"Whe
