In Case of Rejection

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Matthew ran under the awnings of the apartments, where he was covered in shadow. He was making good distance, gaining on the very end of B Block, where the road turned and became C Block, on the other side of the buildings. He was pushing the emotion out of his head, trying to think in a strictly strategic way. The second he thought about his father, his knees started to buckle.

Still, the Bot behind him pressed on, it's piercing shriek ringing out through the emptiness. As he sprinted, Matthew saw lights flicker on in the surrounding buildings. In some, they shut off oppositely, almost like they didn't want to draw attention to themselves. Matthew wondered if anyone was watching him.

He scoured the area as he ran. The street was barren of its usual hordes, and he skipped past several small, dark alleyways. He knew this street almost completely by heart, and understood that if he could make it up onto C Block, there was a particularly promising alley with an old fire escape. He knew it would give him a leg up -- that is, if he could keep up the pace and beat out the thing chasing him.

He was creating a mental picture in his head, his mind's eye flashing with the image of his father, like a bomb dropping on his head. He gasped, forcing air into his lungs. His legs felt weak, threatening to give beneath him. He was only a few yards away from the big, sharp turn.

He made that harsh left, down the biggest apartment on B Block, his body suddenly illuminated under the pale light.

There was another Bot there, standing to his right, and the moment it saw him, it dove for him.

The huge thing shot for him out of the shadows, and Matthew dropped -- sliding on the dry dirt, just barely missing it's grip by an inch. It's fingertips latched onto the collar of his uniform, and the top button snapped off in response. Matthew knew the Bots were experts at precision, and he surged with pride that he had evaded an attack.

And just as the thought materialized, he was off again, just before the crashing of industrial plastic against the ground. He heard the Bot's machinations whir as it rolled into the wall, but Matthew was already turning out of earshot. He saw the lip of the alleyway, and pulling his best James Bond, he ran for a few fleeting seconds, then threw himself into the darkness.

He tumbled a bit through the shadows, sliding along another big bulky apartment building on C Block. Dusty lived down this way. Just a few yards from the Arcade.

He took a few long steps to gain control over his momentum, leaning on his very tiptoes now. He hunched down, rushing to hide behind a wide, gray dumpster a few feet away. He leaned up against it, finding it cool and stable against his back. He took in long, deep breaths in an attempt to regain his strength, letting his body slump into it. His throat still burned from Michael's grip, and now, trying to breathe, it felt sore.

He heard the thudding of the Bots, running past. There were more of them now -- four at least. He could hear their alarms, the high-pitched, painfully resonant tones, screaming into the night. He knew that it was only a matter of time before they found him. No one ever got away.

Matthew peeked out from behind the dumpster, just barely, absorbing the shock of white light that was the street. He leaned on something small and wooden at his side, and it toppled over in response. Matthew fell into the floor, his elbow driving straight into the ground.

He cried out in pain, unable to hold it in, then clamped his mouth with his other hand. Matthew had fallen onto something long and sharp -- at closer inspection, a long nail, jammed deep upward into the tissue of his bicep and grazing along the bone.

Matthew huffed in pain, seeing little white stars despite the pitch darkness. He sat up quickly, turning back to the fire escape. The pain numbed for a moment as he whirled around at his surroundings. He straightened his arm only slightly, and his shoulder ignited with fiery pain.