He'd had his mouth open to reply to Alexandria, but all conversation was impeded with the appearance of their pursuers. The fact that they'd managed to catch up so quickly and quietly cemented in his mind that these things weren't human. In his gut, he felt a quell of excitement that was wholly immature and unneeded for such a situation - but he couldn't get rid of the thought that this was just like a comic book, he really was doing these things!
Quickly, he jumped between Alex and the creature, using his arm as a quick-made shield to block the attack. The nails slashed at the long turtle neck that he'd used for his costume, cutting the fabric and his wrist, leaving behind long scratches that instantly began to well with blood. Max hissed, but avoided worrying about the pain in favor of delivering another push and then punch to the desiccated looking woman, applying the actions to shoulders and face appropriately. The thing stumbled backward, falling to the pavement. Max wrapped a hand around his wrist, though the lacerations couldn't have been more than a few layers deep. The shirt had done its work, though the hole now ripped in it would have to be repaired.
"We need to go the other way," he rasped, turning to put a hand on Alex's shoulder and steer her away from the path to the apartment building - it had been a good idea, but the things seemed to line the streets in this direction, and they needed to get away. Of course, in a comic book the hero would be dedicated to finding out what these things were and how to stop them, but that usually required a vast library or a database of some sort... Neither of which he had immediately at hand...