Edit: Most of the stuff explaining this story can be found on my profile.
Like all fanfiction writers, I do not own Transformers (I do own my OCs though) and make no money off this what-so-ever.
Warnings: Violence and Language.
Chapter 1
I throw open the tattered brown curtains covering the partially broken and duct taped window in my bedroom, allowing the first faint rays of morning light into my unlit bedroom. Another day has begun.
I walk out of my room and down the hall to the bathroom, a black t-shirt, short denim overalls, and other essentials tucked under one arm. I'm up before the others so I can get my bath done before the others wake up and take over the bathroom. I shut the door behind me, toss my clothes on the counter and shimmy out of yesterday's clothes. I gingerly turn the cold and hot water on, hoping that Will's jury-rigged water supply and heating system will actually work. The water comes out perfectly warmed like it just came from a hot spring, and I quickly turn the shower on and hop in. I bathe quickly, trying to conserve hot water for the others and to lessen my chances of having the water system break down while I'm showering.
As soon as I rinse last soap suds off, I shut off the shower and water and step out of the tub slowly and carefully so I don't slip and bang my head. I wrap my long neon yellow and red hair up into a towel and squeeze as much water out of it as I can. When I finish the drying, I take my comb and comb out all the tangles one by one until there's none left, and then braid it to keep it out of my way. By the time I'm done with this, my body is dry and the sun is almost fully up. The others will wake up soon, so I quickly slip into my clean clothes, grab my stuff and head back to my room for my boots. Now the others can fight over the bathroom while I go eat breakfast.
I grab my black combat boots from off the floor where I tossed them last night and a pair of clean socks from my backpack, shove my feet into the socks and slip the boots on one at a time. I hear the first sounds of the beginning morning rush as I lace up my boots, footsteps running down the hall, frantic to get to the bathroom "first". I grab my backpack and walk down the stairs, avoiding some of the broken steps along the way, and into what served as our kitchen and family room. The place was a wreck, just like the rest of the house, but we weren't being choosy about where we lived, we got lucky just finding this place.
I find Opal sitting at our makeshift table, staring at the glowing screen of her laptop, a look of worried concentration on her features. "I'll alert the patrols, Shana," Opal replies to the screen, "hopefully it'll buy us some time to evacuate."
"I understand, Opal," Shana Story's voice replies through the laptop's speakers, "send my regards to Rachel and Ira. Shana out."
I give Opal a look even though she's not looking at me, "Okay, what hit the fan?"
Opal jumps slightly at my voice before regaining her composure, "One of Shana's team picked up something while hacking The Initiative's databases, and apparently they're getting pretty close to pinpointing our location."
"How close?" I reply sternly.
"They've narrowed it down to a five mile radius," Opal murmurs, "according to Shana's estimate, they could be on to us some time today, if they aren't already."
"Shit," I hiss and slink over to one of the cupboards to grab some food.
We had escaped from The Initiative some time in early February in the chaos of some kind of collapse of leadership among their higher-ups. Some project of theirs – called Project: Nefarious – had gotten their cover blown to some super secret military group. We had been held captive by The Initiative for around three years, give or take a few months, as a part of Project: Cyber, a project to create "super soldiers" that were part human part machine, cyborgs if you will. They replaced parts of our own bodies – like eyes and limbs – with mechanical replacements and then ran various tests to see just how much of various extremes we could endure. When we finally got the chance to escape, we took it. We raided the supply stashes within the base for all the clothes, food and gear we currently have. For safety, we split up into three groups: two groups to simply hide away from The Initiative within the urban sprawl of New York and Chicago and our group to wander like nomads from place to place, avoiding The Initiative by any and all means as a distraction of sorts keeping attention away from the other groups. This new development threatened everything we had worked so hard for.
I grab a bag of beef jerky and a bag yogurt covered raisins and trudge over to where Opal is sitting and plop down next to her. At that moment, Silvia comes dashing through the door, out of breath, covered in bite and claw marks and her shiny silver hair a complete mess, "On patrol, got attacked… hellhounds… death squad…"
"What?" Opal asks, her voiced rising an octave in fear.
Opal just barely managed to pull Silvia from the doorway when Ira comes dashing in, in the same condition as Silvia. "What happened?" I ask, afraid to know the answer.
"We got attacked while on patrol." Ira gasps breathlessly, "Megan and a few squads of hellhounds with helicopter backup. We tried to fight 'em off, but there were too many. We fled, but Megan caught up, grabbed Bethany and hauled her off into the helicopter."
My blood ran cold, Bethany was one of our youngest, she was only eight. Today had been the day Ira had finally decided to allow Bethany to come with her on patrol after a big debate over whether she was too young to go on patrols with us. Now she was in the hands of the death squad, The Initiative's cyborg foot soldiers. They'd drag her straight back to the hell we escaped from in February, straight back to the scientists and the cruelty with no one to protect her.
"No," I murmur softly.
By now the commotion had drawn the others down from waiting for the bathroom. "What happened?" Will asks, frightened.
"Bethany got captured by Megan," Ira replies, still panting and gasping.
The room erupts into chaos as the others start panicking, causing Opal to shout to restore order. "We can't stay here anymore," Opal tells everyone, "grab your stuff, we're evacuating. We can take baths later; right now we need to get out of here before Megan's goons find us here."
The others – Silvia, Ira and myself included – run up the stairs to grab our stuff. All of my clothes, hygiene necessities and emergency food is packed into my backpack with my sleeping bag, which is on my back, so all I have to grab is my mechanic's tools and first aid kit neatly packed within two messenger bags. I scan the sky outside my bedroom window, searching for the helicopter that holds Bethany. And sure enough, on the horizon, flying away from us off into the distance is an attack helicopter. My heart hurts just looking at it, knowing the hell our youngest was being dragged back to. I turn away from the window and pull the blinds shut for the last time.
I dash down hall and into what was Bethany's room. I grab her black messenger bag and the patchwork, yellow plush corgi Ellie had made for her, that were lying on her black sleeping bag. I stuff the toy into her messenger bag after rolling up her sleeping bag, throw the bag over my shoulder and race back down the stairs.
The others are already loading their stuff into the back of Ira's truck – that we had "acquired" from The Initiative during our escape – the youngest kids riding inside the truck, while the rest of us ride in the back, protected by a camper shell with windows from rain and prying eyes. Opal will obviously ride in the front to be able to switch places with Ira if we get pulled over by cops, because she's the only one with a driver's license and is legally old enough to be on her own.
I quietly slip my stuff and Bethany's stuff into the back and climb in the back. The others pile in after me, eager to leave this place. Once everybody's situated, Ira starts up the truck and drives off down the winding, disused road we took to get here, before finally getting onto the "main" dirt road. It'll be a couple of hours until we reach civilization. Ellie, Celene and Ari huddle close to my left side, shaking like leaves. "Rachel, what are we gonna do now?" the triplet girls ask me in unison.
"We're gonna get Bethany back," I tell them.
"Yeah," Silvia replies, steely determination in her voice, "even if it's the last thing we do."
Megan's watching me, waiting for me to make a move. She may lead The Initiative's death squad, but she's not dumb. She knows what will happen to her if I escape. But I'll find a way to get out, because I am not going back to that lab.
My name is Bethany and today has to be one of the wost days of my life.
I check my pockets, there's gotta be something that I can use. I come up with nothing but a slightly stale gummy worm that I pop in my mouth and chew. The helicopter's side door is still open, if I can break out of the dog crate I'm stuck in, I can jump out. The fall will probably kill me, but at least I won't go back to that hell alive.
I stealthily begin to open the crate door when an explosion rocks the helicopter, sending my crate sliding out the open side door and into the air. The impact breaks my crate open and knocks the wind out of me, but I recover and look around. I've crash landed in a military base of some kind. The helicopter is a burning wreck on the tarmac and Megan's searching for me.
I take a running head start from Megan, who has obviously noticed me. "Come here you worthless maggot!" she roars furiously.
I don't answer her and continue running. By now there are soldiers with guns shooting at us. This is bad, I'm either gonna get shot to bits by soldiers with guns or get killed in some hideous way by Megan. I dash past a soldier, hoping that I can find a way out of this place, away from Megan and these men with guns and out to freedom.
That hope dies as I hear the sound of shifting metal and jet engines. Megan's engaged her flight mode. I'm screwed if I don't get some kind of help and fast. Razor sharp talons latch onto me and I'm lifted off the ground. I grab some wires leading to one of Megan's engines and rip them out with all my strength. Megan roars in pain and rage as the wires are torn from her causing her engines to shut off, sending both of us crashing to the ground. I dash away from her only to find myself cornered against an electric fence. "You'll pay for that," Megan growls stalking towards me, her blood red eyes glowing faintly with rage.
I'm trapped. I try to cry for help, but I'm cut off as Megan grabs me by the throat and throws me into the electric fence. The pain lasts only a few moments before I fall back to the ground. "No one's coming for you," Megan purrs tauntingly, "no one at all."
"Back away from the girl," a voice says in a stern, commanding voice.
I divert my attention from Megan to see the soldiers standing not that far from us, guns raised. "Help," I beg desperately at the source of the voice, a man with the tanned skin of one who spends time outside, short brown hair, stern brown eyes, and the last name of Lennox stitched above a pocket on his uniform, "please."
Megan growls and pushes the tips her razor sharp metal claws against my throat, until something gives and the pain registers, worse than being thrown into the fence, worse than anything I've felt. I try to scream, but only a choked sound comes out. I roll off my back the moment Megan yanks her claws from my throat and onto my hands and knees, desperately trying to breathe. The sound of gunfire and the roar of a helicopter vaguely reaches my ears, as well as the shouts of soldiers. Someone runs to my side, saying something, but I can't make out what they're saying as my arms and legs give out and blackness devours my world from the outside in.
