In Case of Rejection

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

"I just want to talk to Brick!" Matthew shouted, trying his hardest to ignore the way they rushed at him, their movements almost violent. He edged backwards some more, turning back to look at Jason again, who he couldn't see anymore.

"Jason!" Matthew screamed. The Bots were a few feet away now, and they hadn't slowed. He brought his elbows in slightly, waiting for the impact. He dropped his hammer suddenly, forgetting it was in his hand the whole time.

The one coming from the right collided with Matthew in a way that was excruciatingly painful for him. It put its elbow straight into his chest, harsh and sharp so that Matthew fell back onto the floor. His head thudded against the ground with a loud bang, and he could hear it echo out into the open. He couldn't believe it was his head and body that made that bang.

He wrestled with the thing on top of him. It started to press down on him, and Matthew's mind began to flood with panic.

"I want to talk to Brick," he repeated, wondering if the thing just hadn't heard him, but this Bot didn't seem to be listening. It pressed its hands hard into his chest, forcing the air out of his lungs, and his vision swam with black spots. He brought his legs up in an attempt at stomping into its chest, but he couldn't reach. He felt that same hopeless, sinking feeling that he had experience with his father, and his hands tightly wrapping around his neck.

The second Bot stood there, hovering over them, beeping and beeping, like it was encoding the scene before it.

"Brick asked for me," Matthew choked out, and speaking felt like coughing. His lungs felt spiny, and he wondered if something was broken. He coughed out again, this time, a sharp, burning pain erupting in the right side of his chest. He bit the inside of his cheek as he grimaced. He kept punching the thing, his mind slowly escalating to a frantic, inescapable panic. His ears were ringing, his eyes burned from the smoke and ash... He was trying so hard to hear for Jason. He thought of the others, and potentially meeting this same end. That was exactly the opposite of what he wanted. He wanted so badly for them to leave. Under the Bot's full weight, its sharp metal hands pressed into his chest, more than anything, he wanted Olive and the rest to go to the Arcade and go back into hiding. His heart swelled with unspeakable guilt.

"Stop!" Matthew shouted, thinking that he would die if it didn't stop. He had both arms wrapped around either of the Bots, but his own strength wasn't enough.

He needed to kill it.

He reached out next to him with his right arm, barely an arms length away was the hammer. He grazed it with his fingertips, barely tipping the thing away from him.

Matthew tried to take in a deep breath, and failed halfway through. He gasped out, still nothing.
He reached up for the Bot's head, thinking of the diagram. What the plans said, what the hammer would've done.

Matthew straightened his hand, and jabbed his thumb upward into its jaw. He felt his thumb snap at the joint, and he screamed out into the open. He jabbed once more. Another shooting pain down his arm. Blue blood started to pour out, spilling out onto Matthew's shirt. One last jab, Matthew screaming the whole way through, and the Bot fell forward over him. This time, third time's the charm, Matthew rolled onto his side, and the Bot crashed head first into the floor.

He sat up slightly and the other one was already ducking towards him. Matthew reached over with his left hand, the one with a working thumb, and picked it up. He swung it back with all of his strength, and brought it crashing into the Bot's temple.

The thing fell to the floor, but it wasn't over. This time, Matthew sat on it's chest, forcing the hammer head up through it's chin. Twice. Five times. Six times. Ten times, until all he could see was blue.

He sat there a minute, still hunched over the thing, staring into its face. Those pale, dead eyes, and the way it lay perfectly still. These Bots looked like newer models, like Matthew had learned to discern. They were strong, and they seemed to want to kill him. He wondered what set them off.

Looking up now into the girls' room, it was empty. Jason was missing, and Matthew was oddly unsurprised. He coughed into his arm, and when he pulled it away, the inside of his elbow was painted red.

His mind fluttered with nervousness, and he wondered if he really was dying. If this was his end.
There wasn't much to be said for his right thumb. It was limp, red, and a little shorter than he remembered it. But strangely, he couldn't feel the pain.

His forearms and chin were blue, and the warmth of the liquid made him start to sweat.

When Matthew was able to stand, he slipped. The ground was slowly becoming covered with blue, thick and hot against the wood.

"Jason!" He called out, one last time, thinking that he might come from around the corner. Like he had been in hiding. But he didn't.