Untouched The Girl in the Box - By Robert J. Crane Page 0,16

hand lift me to my feet.

I was dazed, but even so I recognized that what was in front of me seemed wrong. It was shaped like a man, but covered in metal. The figure was angular and the chest was boxy, like a robot I’d seen once in a movie. The head was roughly cylindrical with a rounded dome, giving me a flashback to the time Mom let me watch Iron Man on TV. I saw a metal fist raise and I squirmed to get out of the grasp of the metal man before the blow reached me.

I felt my coat rip along the collar as I pulled down and put my weight into it. Much as I might wish I was lighter when I looked in the mirror, I was thankful at that moment that I didn’t look like a model as I slipped underneath the punch he had leveled at me. The metal man followed through and I heard a crunch. I rolled across the snow and to my feet, looking back to see he’d buried his hand in the concrete wall all the way to the elbow.

As he struggled to pull his hand back out, I realized he was grunting, which meant he wasn’t a robot. I can’t tell you how thankful I was in that moment; I was afraid that someone had perfected some sort of seeker droid and turned it loose on me. “All right, Full Metal Jackass,” I said to him. “You want a fight, you sucker-punching Tony Stark wannabe?” I cracked my knuckles. “I’ll give you a fight.”

I darted low as he came at me again. I could tell from his breathing that the armor had some weight and heft to it. His fist whistled through the air in front of my face as he winged another punch at me. After it passed, I raised up and gave him a solid kick to the gut, just like I would have back when Mom and I broke boards in the basement. After all, I was a super-powerful meta, right? I should be able to break through steel; I had before, after all.

I heard a crack as I connected and realized that something had broken, all right—but I was pretty sure it was my foot. Full Metal Jackass went staggering back and fell over, which was the only saving grace in the whole thing, because I dropped to the ground, clutching at my foot, which felt like I had slammed it in a door well over a hundred times. I let out a stream of curses as I went down.

As I lay on the ground, clutching my appendage and plumbing the depths of my error in judgment, I tried to roll over. I had enough presence of mind to realize that the metallic monkey wasn’t going to be down for as long as I was and that I needed to do something to avoid him and that screaming and rolling around wasn’t going to do it. I got to one knee as I saw him rising to his feet, a hulking metal goliath. His eyes were two slits, and behind them I could see pupils staring back at me as I rested my weight on one leg. I raised my hand in a defensive posture that was purely for show; I doubted I’d be able to effectively evade him while hobbling.

“Hey Man of Steel!” Zack’s shout caused him to turn. I saw Zack holding a very familiar weapon in both his hands. He’d been to the trunk of the car, clearly. “I bet you think you’re invincible, beating up a girl like that. Boy, are you in for a shock.”

I cringed, partly from his pun, partly from the ache in my foot as Zack discharged the weapon into the metal-suited man. A forked bolt of lightning arced from the barrel and made contact with the front plate of Full Metal Jackass’s armor. The metal man shuddered only slightly, and then took a menacing step toward Zack, then another, before breaking into a run toward him, the electricity diffusing harmlessly off the metal as though it weren’t conducting it.

I took two aggressive hops forward before the metallic tool could get any momentum and slammed into him with my shoulder, knocking him face-first into the snow. I saw a joint open between his helmet and his neck as he fell, a patch of exposed skin no wider than my fist that showed a strip of weathered flesh.