Not What I Had Expected
Hello my Fanficee's? Is that even a word? Oh well, it is now. I know that I have another story in progress (Currently on hiatus). But… I don't like it. I am not sure why, I just think I am going to have to rewrite it. :/ So, I have been writing this little chapter the last few weeks and I like this one. SO, I THOGUHT I'D PUT IT UP! It came to me in a dream! I so love it when Transformers show up in my dreams!
This little work in progress is set just before RoTF. This is also my first shot at an OC and Ironhide as guardian story. I have a respect for his sarcasm as well as his accent! If you don't want to read, you don't have to. I don't force anyone to!
As always, I do not own anything about Transformers including characters, plot lines, etc. I also do not own any songs that pop up in here.
I do own Kyrie! No takies!
ALRIGHT! Here we go! Roll out!
Chapter One: More Questions Than Answers
"Hello?" my cell phone went to my ear, as I waited for a noise on the other end. The blasted thing had been ringing all afternoon and I had finally had enough of whoever it was. Probably some punk-ass prank caller trying to screw with me. Well it was not going to end well as it was eight o'clock at night and I had just gotten out of class for the day.
A quick glance at my phone showed the number was nowhere on the screen, just "Unidentified caller" What did that mean, an alien was calling? "Hello?" A shrieking sound came through, (Pringles! Was it one?) causing me to drop the iPhone under the passenger's seat of my Dark Green 1997 Chevy Silverado Z-71. "Shit!" after I regained my hearing, I rubbed my temple. Dumbass; Now, I had to find a phone, in the dark. I really needed to replace the bulb in the cab.
My truck seemed to eat everything, and 95 percent of the time, I could never find it. Sometimes I think the thing purposely kept the items lost. I had made a cute little orange crochet jellyfish to hang on the mirror, and the next morning, it was gone. I still can't understand how something hanging on a mirror could just loose itself. Pity, really. It was cute!
The noise from hell continued, muffled by the seat and partly because it had fallen on its screen. Couldn't it have landed up, so I could see the light? After digging around under the seat for what seemed like an hour, I found it, raising the mic part to my lips. "Go screw with someone else! My parents are in the military and will hunt your butt down!" the call ended on its own, a smirk pursing at my lips. "Good. Hope it scared you."
After the whole phone fiasco, my backpack landed gracefully in the passenger's seat, phone in the pocket, and I collapsed in the driver's seat. Today had been a rough day, with two critical presentations and a calculus II comprehensive final exam. At least college was over for the summer. I needed a break and a very long road trip to wherever I wanted to go. The truck's engine roared to life with a single click of the ignition. My foot went to the brake mindlessly as I shifted into drive. Thank goodness I had decided to back into my parking space when I arrived because I was too lazy to back it up when I had to leave. That and it was quicker to get into my truck because I didn't like being in a parking deck after dark. The quicker I could get out of here the better.
"Well, it's summer!" I let go of the wheel for a second, and I tried to hype myself up, but it didn't work. Instead, I put my hands back on the wheel and turned on the radio beginning to sing to a new rock song.
" So here we are
Fighting and trying to hide the scars
I'll be home tonight
Take a breath and softly say goodbye
The lonely road
The one that I, should try to walk alone
I'll be home tonight
Take a breath and softly say goodbye."
The cool May air kept me awake long enough to drive the twenty minutes home to my house in Marietta, Iowa. I was greeted by the warm white security light as I pulled up to the garage. The engine cut out and tired legs swung me out and onto the cement. After obtaining my backpack, I let myself in the front door, dropping the backpack near the front table.
"I'm home." but no one answered. No one ever answered. I was an only child and my mom and dad had seemingly gone 'missing' about a year and a half ago. They had been helping trainees at a military base in Mission City when the so called "military exercise gone wrong" happened. On the other hand, maybe it was a mechanical alien uprising, curtesy of our friends' phones, Photoshop and the internet. But how the heck would I know? All that mattered was they were "gone" and that the military wasn't even trying to find them. A part of me wished that they would just tell me they had died. I think believing they were still alive and had not even tried to contact me was harder to digest then knowing they were gone and in a better place.
Either way, I was lucky to be 17 at the time (now 19 as of April 13th) and granted the right to live on my own. That and the army had taken to paying off my house and bills for the next twenty years as an 'I'm sorry' package. They even helped me with getting a truck, even if it was well used from their missions and rusted to hell. I was just going to buy a small car and call it a day, but they INSISTED that I take the truck. Trying a little too hard to help, aren't you?
However, the rundown piece of metal had grown on me, and I wasn't sure why. It almost seemed to have an attitude of its own, save for the always displacing every decoration I tried to place in it.
So, I just walked upstairs to my room, passing some of the pictures of mom, dad and me. Their smiles were still too much for me to handle, even after a year and a half. I had wanted to take them down, but I just could find a reason to move them. Flicking on the light switch, my reflection was seen on the mirror of the back wall. My blonde hair was a mess from putting the windows all the way down, and small black circles were beginning to form under my apple green eyes. In short, I looked like crap. Even more reason to grab some PJ shorts with cats on them and a high school t-shirt and take a nice hot shower.
It was about nine-thirty when I made my way back downstairs. My stomach had begun to protest in the shower and I couldn't take the noise anymore. I had cut my shower time in half multitasking, and decided to let my hair dry on its own in favor of a four-cheese meatball hot pocket and a big ass glass of chocolate milk. If I got sick, so be it. I was celebrating the beginning of summer and the end of my sophomore year; I was going all out for to occasion.
With my teeth holding my hot pocket by a mere corner, I plopped onto the couch, remote in one hand, chocolate milk in the other. I was living the life. After an all-nighter of Netflix horror movies and a cheesy comedy (to break the tension from the horror, not that I was scared or anything) my body had settled into the couch too much…
0c0c0c0c0c0c0c0c
"What do you mean they're gone?" I spat, looking from a tall blonde-haired man to a gruff looking soldier with a scar over his left eye. Neither said anything as I tried to choke back the tears. "You know as well as I do that the news said everyone was accounted for! They can't be gone, you-you just didn't look hard enough."
"Kyrie, look I don't have all the answers, and they didn't tell me anything either." My gut told me he was lying, but I let him finish his thoughts. "You think I am ok not knowing where my comrades are?" the blonde-haired person tried to keep a calm demeanor, but the man with the scar looked pissed. I hope it wasn't at me. "All I know is that I am to come get you and try to straighten things out with all of this. So, please try to calm down."
"F-fine." I only agreed because scar-guy looked scary, and I didn't want any confrontation right now. The lies would have to wait until he was gone, because he scared the pee out of me. "Could I at least have your names? You're the first two people who have at least come over to me and tried to help."
"Names Will Lennox, and big guy, we call him Ironhide." Lennox pointed to scar-guy, who only grunted in response. "Don't worry about him; he's not pissed at you. He's pissed LIKE you" For a second, Ironhide's blue eyes flashed sympathy at me, before filling back up with anger.
"Good to know…"
0c0c0c0c0c0c0c0c
The light began to make its way into my eyes, as my body rolled over to keep out of it. But I had forgot I had fallen asleep on the couch, and hit the hard wood floor with a thud. "Shit…"
Why had that memory resurfaced? Maybe it was because Lennox was the only person in the army who took care of me while everything with Mission City was being sorted out. He had even taken to staying with me, who was a good 27 hours away, until I had the courage to stay home by myself. But the part of that memory that sat in my stomach the worst was that man Ironhide. "He's pissed LIKE you." But why? Those two had definitely known more then they let on, but when I tried to poke for answers, Ironhide stayed quiet, and Lennox changed the subject. After a year and a half, I was no closer to the truth than when I had first heard the news.
"Whatever. Kyrie, you need to let it go. If the military thinks it's better for me not to know, then it might be better to LET IT GO." But my own words sounded hollow. My arms pushed me up to standing position, as I stretched and headed to my room. A quick glance at the clock had said 5:09 p.m. Nothing like sleeping the morning and afternoon away; but hey, college was done for the summer. This was 'do what I want and get away with it time'. The mirror on my wall showed the same version of the girl from the night before, just with even messier hair. Tackling it with a hairbrush was easier then I would have thought, as a sudden ringing broke me from my trance.
My phone was all the way downstairs in my backpack, wasn't it… So I started my journey back downstairs to the hallway, where my mint green backpack with small white hearts and brown faux leather tassels sat on the table next to the front door. But something caught my eye from my front dining room window. My truck wasn't backed in when I got home last night, was it? I'd think I would remember where I had parked it. Whatever, maybe it was possessed or something. It ate everything and moved on its own. A shiver left my spine as I was still on edge with the horror movie marathon from last night. "Yeah, sure, that's all I need. A car with a mind of its own."
Digging through my backpack, I pulled out the gold-colored iPhone, swiping the screen. One missed call: Lennox. First, it was the dream that I couldn't shake, and now this. I had taken to not calling or texting him about a month ago, partly because I was busy with finals week coming up and because I still felt he was hiding something from me.
I should call him back. He never really did anything wrong. I was the one holding a year and a half grudge over something I wasn't even sure he did. Maybe he was just checking in on me…
I decided against it. I wasn't ready to talk to him after how I had acted the last time I spoke with him. Petty, that's what I had been.
Instead, I put the phone in my PJ pocket, walking over to the television and pressing the 'on' button. The news had come on, with 'Breaking News' the top heading on the screen.
"For those of you just tuning in, a massive explosion over the Laurentian Abyss in the Atlantic Ocean has resulted in at least 60 deaths, with no survivors confirmed at this time. At about eight o'clock this morning, a sudden explosion of a United States Battleship rocked the seas, resulting in a total loss of the ship and its crew. It's said that the explosion was so large, the fires spread to nearby ships, causing them to catch fire and sink. The President had not given a formal speech to address if this was a terrorist attack or simply a military exercise gone wrong."
"Sure, an 'exercise gone wrong', like Mission City? How many of those soldier's families are going to be lied to like me?" the anger had resurfaced, as I slapped the remote control button to shut off the lies coming from the television. Tears began to brim at the edges of my eyes, as I took a sharp breath to try to steady myself. "There's something wrong with all of this! How long is the military going to cover this up before too many lives have been lost to keep on lying?"
All those families, waiting to hear the truth, only to be met with shallow lies with barely any details as to what truly happened moments before their loved one's died. This was all too much, as I sat on the couch crying for the first time since my parents were pronounced M.I.A. a year ago today. The tears came fast and in large volume, as I tried to catch my breath. But it just wasn't working…
"I need to take a drive, anywhere." I thought to myself, pulling up the GPS on my cell phone. My fit had subsided and I think I was out of tears. Maybe I should go to a water park. Most of them had opened with the warmer weather we have been having. It was about an hour and a half away, and I could manage to get a hotel room there for a few nights with the money I had made working at the university's bookstore. "I'll do that." I needed to get out of town, even if the water park was still Iowa.
So I began packing, grabbing the essentials. Bathing suit, towels, conditioner and shampoo (the hotel stuff was crap in a bottle and there was not enough for two washings when you had butt-length hair), a razor, shaving cream, three days' worth of shorts, tank tops, bras and underwear, a hair brush, face scrub, tooth paste and a tooth brush, deodorant, lotion, perfume and a few toiletries. I even brought some snacks in a separate bag, and I carried my bag and the snacks to my truck, that was now pulled in. "What the hell? If someone is screwing with me, so help me!" IT was totally backed in, but it was pulled in last night, but it was again back in- Aw shit! I don't have time for my brain to blow up on me right now. I'll pretend I was just pretending.
"Good afternoon Kyrie, where ya' headin'?" came my neighbor, Mrs. Knale. She was watering her flowers on her porch before she stopped to look at me.
"I just need to get out of the house, you know?" boy, wasn't that the truth. Oh! Gas, I thought. I will have to get that before I get on the highway.
"I understand." She sympathized, "I'll keep an eye on the house while you're gone. Just be safe." She pointed her watering can spout in my direction with a small smile. She had been acting like a mom to me since she learned of my parent's disappearance. I did not too much care for the attention, but I tried not to be rude about it.
"I will. Have a good day." I responded, climbing into the driver's seat and turning the key. The engine seemed to hesitate to kick over, but it did, as I only patted the dashboard. "I would be tired too if I went on an adventure without my knowing." Sure, it did, but thinking that my Silverado could just drive away on its own was a bit amusing. "But you don't do that, right?" I almost wanted it to answer back, but that would be just silly. A sentient truck, ha! Good one, Kyrie.
The gas station was packed for a Saturday afternoon, maybe it was because gas prices were steadily falling for once. I had to pull in behind a powder blue fiat. It was the only car without someone behind it, and the pump was sitting on the side my gas tank was. However, the scene was too priceless; my big ass truck sitting in line behind a small little rat-car. The owner of the Fiat looked at me with a small smirk, maybe he saw how ridicules the situation was, too. In addition, I swear saw a few cell phone camera's going off. If you're going to take that pic, I want one, too!
After putting about 35 bucks in my tank, I was beginning to merge onto the interstate, pulling into the farthest left lane. I was going to be on this road for a while and I didn't want to deal with merging and going around slower moving Semi-Trucks and cars. I set the cruise to 75 mph and turned on the radio cranking the volume up over the air-conditioning. Something about driving seemed to calm my mind, and taking this trip was what I needed: some r and r, millions of waterslides to tackle, and a new group of friends that would go on them with me!
But a nagging feeling was still there. Something about the newscast this morning had left me with fear. I wasn't sure why, as the accident was in the Atlantic, miles away from me. It just seemed to scream familiar. Maybe a bag of Cheetos's could soothe my uneasiness. I reached over into the bag in the passenger's seat, digging around until I found the crunchy treat. The bag had just been opened when red and blue lights made their way into my rear-view mirror. Mortified, I pulled over to the right berm.
Shit. Had I been swerving when I was digging through the bag, or maybe it was the fact that I was going down a hill. Maybe I was over the speed limit a bit too much? No, I had been going 76 and I kept my wheel straight, regardless of the snooping in my bag. Whatever it was, he pulled ME over. I turned off the radio, air and the engine. I put the window down and left my hands on the steering wheel. Great, I was about forty-five minutes into my trip and had already managed to be detoured.
The cop car pulled behind me, stopping INCHES from my back bumper. Weren't they supposed to stay back for their safety? Even if he ran the plate, he would have seen I was a teenager and kept back just in case. But this guy was right there. I took a minute to look in my mirror once more. The car wasn't a model that the police usually used. This one was a jet-black Mustang with the numbers 643 on the hood. However, it did stay Police. Maybe the State Highway Patrol decided to start using Mustangs instead of Chargers?
After about a minute, the Mustang's engine roared to life, smashing into my back bumper. The truck skidded forward about three feet, as I flew into the steering wheel, trying to catch my breath. I yanked myself back into my seat, trying to collect my thoughts. But my head was reeling from the impact. Did that cop just ram into me? My head spun around, as the car was backing up. Son of a- Another smash sounded and the truck skidded forward again, as I tried to keep the wheels on the road and my chest out of the wheel. At first, I thought he'd hit the accelerator by mistake instead of the brake, but after the second time, it was apparent he was trying to HIT me.
My hands went to my seatbelt, as I tried desperately to unbuckle it. There was no way I was going to outrun a car about ten to fifteen years newer and faster than my truck. Maybe I could tuck and roll into the side of the ditch? Then where was I going to go? I had yet to figure that out. Who prepares for an insane cop trying to kill you? It wouldn't budge. "Come on, come on" It wouldn't release. "Of all the times to stick!" I kicked the underside of the dashboard. The seat belt tightened at the next ram-into, keeping me from hitting the wheel a third time.
"Cut that out!" a voice played through the radio, "Scrap, hold on!" the British-American accent caught my attention as my engine came to life on its own, peeling out of the spot it had been pushed did it sound so-so familiar?
"Wait, you don't go on your own!" I had to be dreaming, and if so, this was one f-upped dream. Instincts kicked in as I smashed the brake pedal, but it wouldn't give under pressure. So instead, I tried to yank the steering wheel, only to get shocked lightly, but enough to have me squeak and let go of the wheel.
"I'm trying to drive! Do you want to be kicked out?" the truck growled, as his side mirrors adjusted to locate the not so cop behind us. I went back to jamming the brakes and hitting the wheel, "Yes, now stop-stop-stop! What the hell-" we were going 95 on the highway, weaving in and out of traffic. Yet somehow, it felt like we were going so much faster. The truck made a hard right off an exit ramp and fishtailed onto a dirt road. I was not in the mood anymore. "Come on! Just stop! Let me out!" the kicking of the dashboards and slamming of the wheel must have pissed him off.
"Fine! Get out!" the radio growled, as the seatbelt unbuckled and the truck did a doughnut. "Stay behind me!" It made me fall out of my seat and onto the gravel with a thud, sending pain up my elbow and into my shoulder s well as a stabling pain from my ankle. Cuts and scrapes were apparent and the wind was knocked out of me when I landed on my back.
There must have been no oxygen to my brain, because I could have sworn whirrs and clicks came from the Silverado as it transformed and stood up, blue eyes looking down at me with annoyance. A freaking robot; It was a freaking sentient robot. Never again was I going to joke about that, NEVER. Moreover, the cop car did the same damn thing, but it transformed mid drive, slamming into my truck-bot with a snarl. It set both of them flying to my right, as cop reached for his legs, trying to pull what looked like wires out from what looked like armor.
"I said stay behind me, now get to it!" The truck made a grab for the other's arm, twisting it up and over his shoulder. He caught himself on the landing, shouting something followed by 'Autobot' and came for another go, this time at me, who had been about fifteen feet to the right of my not so Chevy. Silverado robot seemed to be trying to protect me, as he looked my way with another one of his pissed looks. His face and scar reminded me of Ironhide's pissed face. There was no way, right?
In any event, the truck was right. I needed to run. With the feeling now returning to my elbow, I managed to pull myself up, before doubling over in pain. My ankle must have taken a worse beating than my left arm, as I looked to it. The ankle was purple and beginning to swell up my leg. My sandal was getting tight, but nothing looked broken. That was great, but there was no way I was going to full on run with it like this. My hands went over my head, bracing for the squishing of a lifetime. A smash did come, and my head flew up. The truck had locked hand to hand with the cop, a grunt coming from his, mouth. I think that was a mouth. It looked like one.
"Kyrie Walters," The cop bot hissed, looking down at me, the frightened immobile girl sitting between my 'protector's' legs. It knew my name. "Give me Kyrie Walters!"
"G-get s-scrapped!" my, must have been protector, overpowered the enemy. His hand transformed into a rather large cannon, charging blue and firing right at the cop's chest. He was able to move around the shot, but not enough. The blast clipped his… waist? as something blue poured out. Blood? No, that was red. Maybe it was robot blood? It was the same color as my truck's eyes.
It must have been enough for the cop, because he fell back, transforming back into a now shitty Mustang. I managed to get up to a standing position, as I saw the dust kick up. He flew off into the distance, lights still flashing.
"You alive?" the voice shook me from my stare, as I jumped and fell onto my back.
"Please, I'll give you anything you want. J-just leave me alone!" I covered my eyes with my arms, trying to steady my breathing. Tears had begun to fall off and onto the dirt, as I could hear the robot 'sigh'.
"I'm not going to hurt you- well, I did… But not like Barricade wanted to." He spat, as a bright light came into my eyes. "But you asked for it."
Barricade? What was he talking about? It was whatever at this point. "I asked for it?" Like I had wanted to be shocked! His rue seemed to work as I uncovered my eyes, only to be blinded by the headlights from the grille, centered on his chest. My arms went straight back to my eyes. "What the- Cut that out!"
"SOO sorry, I was making sure you weren't broke." The light went off leaving spots behind my eyes. The accent was greatly amusing, but now was not the time to be laughing. There was a giant robot staring down at me, and trying to have a decent conversation with me. WAIT. It was speaking ENGLISH to me.
Maybe he was right, he didn't seem to have any interest in hurting me like the cop did. Slowly, I uncovered my eyes, coughing a bit. My lungs felt better now that I was laying down and not moving, but my body was in pain. I glanced up at the truck-bot, but there was no sense of hate, maybe annoyance, but no hate.
"Are you able to stand?" he questioned, lowering himself onto his knee, kneeling.
My mind was running in fight or flight, as I swallowed my fear. "Maybe. I was before you decided to scare me. My ankle is shot. Not to mention all the bruising on my ribs and elsewhere and gashes and scrapes." I wasn't trying to be an ass, promise. But I was pissed off. I had no idea what just happened, what the thing hovering over me was, and why it happened to be my truck in disguise. The damn military gave a sentient truck.
"Hey look! I could have let you be squished, but I didn't. You wanted out. I let you out." there was the annoyance, kind of like Ironhide. Why had I kept comparing him (a human) to this, this being? The robot put a hand to his neck and rubbed it gently. "But you're alright?"
He seemed to be genuine. I needed to calm down: the best I could anyway. "I-I am. I'm sorry I am not to trying to be a jerk. You did just save my life." It was the truth. If he hadn't rushed for me, I could have went splat or whatever the cop decided to do with me.
"It's fine. I shouldn't have tossed you out of the seat." He ignored the saved my life part, as he extended a finger to me. "Here, you could use some help."
"You'd better!" I laughed a bit. Maybe the robot wasn't so bad. I reached for his index finger, as I pulled myself up, grunting and grimacing from the pain. "Do you have a name? I don't think referring to you as Mr. Robot is very appreciative."
"If I tell you, you can't get mad." Wait, where did that come from?
"I don't-"
"Ironhide."
Well call me a monkey's uncle. The voice was his. However, Ironhide was a person: or was he? A man appeared before me, as I screamed and fell yet again on my back. "What the-" The man was Ironhide, and it disappeared as fast as it had materialized. "That was just a hologram? I was talking to a giant robot the whole time? "Wait is that why you insisted I take the truck?"
"Wait-wait slow down. I know you want answers. But we need to leave before the Decepticons come back." He was looking to the horizon, where the sun was beginning to set.
"What are-" oops. Ironhide extended his hand again, as I steadied myself.
"I'll answer your questions after I get us out of this area. Now stand back a bit."
I didn't think twice as I stepped back the best I could to see Ironhide transform slowly back into my Silverado, the hood slapping down at the end of the transformation. That made me smile a bit. The driver's side door opened, beckoning me to get in. After blinking back the rest of my tears, my hobbled and bruised form was not easy to get into a truck that sat higher than normal. Thank God I didn't put a lift kit on it like I had wanted to.
The seatbelt slid across my chest gently, and I flinched, only to be met with a click and a stifled laugh from Ironhide. His voice came through the radio once more. "That didn't hurt, did it? I just don't want you going and hitting my wheel if we get ran into again." There he went with the sarcasm. It wasn't like a rollercoaster. Being hit from behind was like being hit by a train. A heavy ass robot disguised as a train. That's right, the backend.
"Aren't the- I mean your rear axles bent to hell?"
"Heh. No, I'm sturdier than your earth cars." His engine came to life as he pulled back into the dirt road, making his way back to the highway.
"Where are we going? Wait, Earth cars? Are you a-"
"Alien. Yes, I suppose so." Holy lemon pancakes; a giant transforming sentient alien robot that was my 1997 Chevrolet Silverado 1500 Z-71. Could I wake up now?
"And don't you think people will recognize this truck? I mean we- you did outrun a cop. Well they saw a cop." That was a good question.
"That 'cop' was Barricade, and you do have a point. Do me a favor, get out." the truck came to a stop as he released the seat belt. He didn't throw me out this time, though.
"Wait, what are you going to do?" I held onto the cushioned seats. There was no way in hell he was leaving me here. Even if he was a giant alien robot, he was my only way out. I wasn't staying here with Barricade on the loose. Who said there weren't more? There was already him and Ironhide.
"Just get out. You'll see." This time he began to transform, dumping me out onto the on ramp.
"Stop it with the dumping!" My ribs protested as I pulled myself up to a sitting position. "It's not as if anyone was coming down the highway or anything!" But Ironhide just transformed back into the truck, disappearing up the ramp. "You better not be leaving me!"
"Wouldn't even think it!" Damn that sarcasm.
I waited for when seemed like half an hour, tracing patterns into the red soil. That asshole had left me, didn't he? It was dark now, and the only lights I got were from the cars on the highway. I had stayed close to the bridge so that no one would see me. That and I hated the dark.
"Dammit Ironhide-" Before I could voice my disgust, a big flipping midnight blue truck came down the entrance ramp (WRONG WAY), and I immediately went to run away. The truck pulled past me and skidded to stop. I fell yet again, but this time from my ankle. So help me if it was another Barricade.
"Easy, Easy Kyrie." Ironhide?
"When I said to find a disguise I meant one that didn't stick out!" He had pranced up in a new form. It was a bigger than my truck and harder to get into midnight blue 2007 GMC Topkick. Didn't I just say I was lucky I hadn't gotten a new lift kit for my truck? "Now how am I supposed to get into that?" I stifled a laugh, getting up from the ground for what seemed like the thousandth time.
"You told me to get another disguise, and this one is more true to my size. This is actually, what I was before I had to become that small ass rust bucket. Now as to how you're going to get in, well-"
"Hey! I liked that rust bucket!" I grabbed onto the steering wheel, hoisting myself into the mammoth of a truck, my body moaning on the inside. I fell into the set, trying to hide the pain. But Ironhide must have known, because we was gentle in his steering and slipped the seatbelt across my chest gently, clicking it into its holder. "So you have been my truck the whole time?"
Ironhide seemed to think for a second, pulling back onto the interstate. "Yes. But it wasn't my idea. It was Lennox's."
More questions than answers. That's what I had come to. Nevertheless, I didn't want to piss him off more than I had already. He had 'put up' with me while I was having my little episodes, and I really didn't want to be dumped to the ground again. Just start from a certain point, Kyrie.
"Let's just start from the beginning. Where are you going, exactly?"
"Tranquility, California." No emotion in that answer. Smartass.
"Ok and you're an alien? So if you're not human built, where'd you come from?"
"A planet called Cybertron."
The first answer sunk in. shit. "Wait! California! That's like 30 hours away!"
Well my pretties, so ends the first chapter of this story. What will be the 'excuse' Ironhide give Kyrie as to why her parents are gone? What did she do that sparked the Decepticon's interest?
I will try my hardest to have chapter two up by the end of the week. College Senior this year, though! Anyway, PLEASE review! I really want to know what is wrong, what your predictions are, and I always am one to read suggestions!
Also, please let me know if something doesn't look right. Spell check does not catch correctly spelled words used in the wrong context. Fragments may or may not count, as we people do like to talk in fragments ;)
Again, please review! It lets me know someone is interested in my story or wishes to help me out as a writer!
Yuuki Rin Mazirif :)