Disclaimer: I do not own the Autobots, Decepticons, or Transformers in general. I do, however, own this plot and the original character.
Please be kind. This is my first fanfic, and even though I have been a role-player for seven years I am kind of clueless as to how a fanfic should look. nn;
Italics means thought.
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Chapter I: Flight
Why was it always raining when something seemed to go wrong in her life? She hadn't thought of it much before, but now it echoed in her mind as she ran down the street. Her black converse slapped against the wet pavement while her breath escaped her in shuddering gasps. Pain ran up her side as her body told her to stop running and rest, but she couldn't. The moment she stopped is the moment they would pounce.
Her eyes screwed shut as she forced herself to try and move faster. Her legs screamed in protest as they seemed to grow heavier with each step. Her lungs burned and she tried to take in more air even though it sent searing pain along her throat. She panted heavily before ducking into an alleyway. Stumbling, she scrambled behind a dumpster, and waited. The girl tried to control her breathing, but it still came out in loud gasps.
Her heart jumped to her throat as the faint footsteps from earlier suddenly became louder. She bit on her bottom lip and gripped at the collar of her shirt so hard her knuckles turned white. She swore that her followers could hear her heart hammering against her ribs, but to her relief the paused footsteps picked up again. They were gone. Her eyes widened a slight fraction as she let go of her bleeding lip (She hadn't noticed she bit it that hard until it throbbed with pain) and let out a long held sigh.
Still panting, the girl scooted a bit to her left, and then slowly peered around the edge of the dumpster. The alley was empty save for a few mice. She smiled weakly and then let her full weight rest against the garbage bin. Tilting her head back she closed her eyes and let the rain wash away the blood on her lip and chin. It felt good. It was then she heard a slight splashing sound. Afraid they might have found her, she snapped her eyes open to look around, but let out another small sigh when she saw it was only a puddle.
Curiosity got the better of her and soon she was slowly crawling her way over to the puddle. Her muscles objected but she paid the aches no mind. What she saw in the puddle surprised her so much that for a moment she had to wonder who was staring back at her. Her reflection revealed that her once prized tan skin had become a sickly pale color. There was grime on her cheeks and a rather nasty looking cut on her temple. Luckily enough the wound had scabs, and so hopefully that meant it would not become infected. Her wavy brown hair was nearly black from the extra oils and grease it had produced. Her shirt and jeans had certainly seen better days as well as her shoes.
She was about to wipe her lip clean on her hand, but thought better as she looked at it. It was covered in dirt from the alley, and God knows what bacteria had been crawling on the dumpster. She shuddered at the thought and couldn't help but try and wipe her palms on the front of her shirt. "As if that will do any good," The girl muttered as she staggered to her feet. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small note. Her father had told her should she ever run into trouble she should go to this address, but to her utter horror and dismay the words were smeared. Her sweat and the rain had made the paper waterlogged, and now it was an indescribable smear of ink.
"Great… Just great, Hillary!" She snarled. "Well this is no good," She added with a small growl. Crumpling the paper in her fist she threw against a wall and watched angrily as it bounced off. The paper ball landed near her feet. Furious she kicked it and grinned with satisfaction as it landed in the puddle from which she had previously seen her reflection in. Grumbling incoherently, she shoved her hands in her pockets, and slowly walked further into the alley. "Well… What'cha gonna do now, Hill? Ya got no where to go, and ya know your friends aren't exactly friends anymore," She murmured to herself as she glanced to the cloudy sky above. "No point in goin' back to the shack. No doubt those freaks are rummagin' through my crap." She scowled.
"What the hell do they want with me anyways? I don't have any frickin' money, credit cards, or even that foreign Euro shit! Bloody'ell! I hate people who wear suits and shades. They're always like those ruttin' freaks from the Matrix, all like, "Come with us now before we shoot your brains out," bullshit," She raved to a rather confused looking rat nibbling on something that definitely didn't look healthy. Hillary scowled before she snorted and continued on her way.
Now that she thought about it what was her way? As she said to the rat she couldn't go back to the shack. Pity though, She thought, Because I am certainly going to miss my blanket. She let out a barking laugh before quieting and glancing around. God, what was she doing? Those guys could still be looking for her, and squawking like a parrot wasn't exactly a wise idea. Her brows furrowed as she ran her fingers through her grimy hair. "I need a shower," She muttered.
It was then she noticed she had come across the other side of the alley. What caught her attention was an old junkyard that happened to be across the street. Her eyebrows rose in surprise as she saw an eighteen-wheeler, seemingly in perfect condition, parked on the opposite side of a chain linked, barbed wire fence. She was about to run to it when she remembered the situation she was in. Mentally chiding herself for nearly making such a mistake, she pressed herself against the side of the alleyway, and peered around at the street.
Everything seemed okay. Then again when everything seemed okay it really wasn't, and she would somehow always end up being screwed. "Well you don't have time to play chicken shit. What'cha gotta do here is run like mad, somehow get yourself over the barbed wire, and into that truck. Why, Hill? 'Cause you're gettin' soaked and you're gonna get hypothermia if ya don't. So on the count of three. One.. Two.. Three!" She bolted across the street like a doe fleeing for her life.
Nothing happened. Not taking any chances of waiting to see if something would, she immediately set to climbing the fence which was surprisingly easy. Now she had to somehow get over the wire. She winced as she eyed at the curled, jagged metal that seemed to glint at her with malice. Shaking her head she threw herself up in the air and somehow managed to steer herself to land on the other side. The only problem with this plan is gravity kicked in and pulled her down right on the wire. She cried out in pain as it cut into her, but somehow wriggled herself and fell inside the junkyard.
White hot pain raced through her body as she looked at her bleeding arms and hands. "God," Hillary groaned, "That hurt like a mother." She gritted her teeth. "Why the hell did I do that again?" Before she could even try to remember the answer was given as soon as she saw the eighteen-wheeler. Getting to her feet, she cautiously approached it, and doubts suddenly ran through her brain. This could be a trap from the men in black. Silently berating herself for not thinking this sooner, she took a step back, and was about to leave when a small clicking sound reached her ears. She whirled around; expecting to meet a cocked shotgun when she noticed the door to the wheeler's cab had slightly opened. "…Must be loose," She grumbled.
She shivered as a gust of wind swept through the junkyard and bit at her soaked skin. Seeing as how she had to get to shelter and the wheeler was the closest one, she approached, and opened the door. No one was inside. Hillary glanced around, hoisted herself in the cab, and closed the door. The rain sounded soothing inside the interior of the truck as she watched it fall against the windows. She did not notice the doors lock by themselves how the heater seemed to kick on without her doing a thing. All she knew was the sudden wave of exhaustion sweeping over her, the leather rising up to meet her, and then all went dark.
Hillary was blissfully asleep inside of Optimus Prime's cab.
