CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

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At five in the morning, the first few vendors started setting up on Main Street. Matthew watched them from his hiding place. He'd never seen it happen like this -- the way they all shuffled out onto the street and laid out their equipment in the early morning light. Matthew focused on an older man in particular, putting out an ornate arrangement of Bonsai trees. The man himself looked like he was a thousand years old, with wrinkles from head to toe and long, white hair. They all set to work, and dust rose up on the dirt path, obscuring them in a gray cloud.

Matthew understood he had a few hours before school, and he sat further back into the wall, trying to get comfortable again. This spot was perfect, as it wasn't directly visible from the outside and it was just unassuming enough. He decided that he'd track back through the alleyway, where he came from initially, and hide amongst the crowd. He could lose himself easier amongst the earlybirds, when the Bots were recharging from the night shift, the day shift then discharged from Nerve Center. They were less likely to strike then, he hoped.

Matthew heard a rumor that they were generally more active from noon on anyway. He hoped this idea was true. He'd heard so much about Bots over the years, but there was still so much he didn't know. Still, he had just learned crucial information that he knew for a fact was true. If the circumstances were right, he could kill one.


He started his gradual walk back through to the street, walking sideways for the duration of the corridor. It was hotter now that the apartments were warming up on either side of him and the sun was beginning to rise. Matthew was sweating through his uniform, and he imagined he must've smelled, not having changed for hours, still spattered with his father's blue blood...

He was bombarded with the bustle of the street, like a wall of sound, as the little path opened back up into the alleyway. Matthew turned into the noise, the rush of air against his face. His legs were weak beneath him and his head felt foggy, all from a lack of sleep and from running for hours.

Walking out onto C Block, he was immediately swallowed by the swarm of people, and his heart twinged a little in his chest. He didn't have enough energy to feel angry or worried or much of anything. He put his feet in front of each other, making it his mission to get back to the apartment. He wanted more than anything to see his Mom. Or his bed. Or Olive.

Up and around the corner, B Block was flooded with people, and Matthew was startled to see so many out, this early in the morning. This was more his mother's crowd, and he wondered if she'd be heading off to work yet. He wondered what he'd do if he saw her.

Approaching his apartment building, Matthew was snapped out of his trance with the blaring of blue from just beyond. There were two Bots standing guard at the double doors, the whole front blocked off and guarded. They were waiting for him, he could only guess.

He kept his head down, ducking it low between his shoulders as he continued on down B Block. He tried his best to bury himself within the crowds, asserting his new mission. There was only one place left to go, and he couldn't afford to miss another day of school.

Crossing through Main Street was relatively painless, though he felt bare without his backpack. In an attempt to retain his autonomy, he shoved both hands in his pockets and tried to dissociate. He was finding it increasingly hard to blend in, with the nagging pain in his elbow. Every now and then, someone would cast him a sideways, wary glance, and he knew they could see it on him -- the blue, the blood, everything. But what could he do, really?


He was maybe thirty yards from the school, the big white buildings just barely in sight behind those big iron gates, when he felt something being pressed against his back.

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