It was early in the morning, very early in the morning. The sky in Nevada was pastel pink.
The last of the day shift workers had just left the car park and was driving down the dusty orange road, moving steadily away from the sprawling concrete facility imposing on the landscape. There were two aircraft hangers growing out of the green pasture.
Laurelin was spying them through the lens of her camera.
All the pretty jets had been tucked into bed and locked away, but a few models remained on display in the airfield.
She'd stashed her car in a secretive rut a few miles away and made the journey to the airbase on foot, following the request of a contractor. Her camera equipment was stowed on her back. As it was her most profitable means of income : Laurelin preferred to haul her equipment around with her. She wouldn't risk it getting stolen by leaving it in her car. One digital lens was probably worth twice the value of her stuttering chevy itself. Laurelin preferred to be safe than sorry. Even if that security came at the cost of her huffing and puffing by the time she arrived in the wooded area, near the airbase. She bedded down to catch her breath, blended in with the shrubbery and made observations from afar.
Three letters and two imploring phone calls had been made to the admin staff work at The Blades International Air Centre, beseeching their permission to allow Laurelin onsite to snap photos of their sleek and shiny machines. Unfortunately, all of her attempts had been irrevocably denied. Laurelin had apologetically informed her contractor that legal implications prevented her from obtaining their much desired photos. To overcome this setback, the contractor's solution was to offer Laurelin triple the original settlement. It was an offer her precarious finances couldn't allow her to refuse. Deep down, she wondered what was driving her contractor to be so obsessive in his need for quality photos of decommissioned aircrafts but disclosing their ultimate usage wasn't a requirement of the terms and conditions. Laurelin would go on guessing forever. There was also the mild concern that she was involving herself in something inconspicuous.
Surely, the backlash of some artsy aircraft photography wouldn't be too severe ? She hoped.
Only the wrecks are left uncovered in the yard over night. She observed.
They were the grounded models that hadn't quite rusted enough to achieve either vintage status or a twilight trip to the scrap yard. These relics were supported by iron bars and dotted about the concrete circuit surrounding the towering airbase.
The true beauties were locked away .
Laurelin had decided pursuing them wasn't worth her as-of-yet untarnished criminal record. As for the aircrafts she would be photographing, Laurelin would exercise some master sleuthing to achieve her money shots. Which was why she'd arrived obscenely early to make a move.
For intelligence purposes, this wasn't the first time she'd picnicked in bushes. A few days of observation had acquainted Laurelin with the schedules of the many curators organising the daily workings of the facility. As such, she knew that the truck that had sped away from the facility carried the only night guard. He would soon be replaced by his daytime counterpart, who was responsible for preparing the inside of the facility for their intake of customers expected to visit the attraction that day. Laurelin had decided to take her photographs during the time the air base was left unattended.
So, as soon as the security guard had vanished into a cloud of hazy red dirt : Laurelin crept into the compound. By her best estimate, she had half an hour before the new guard arrived. She had confirmed that he was a lazy individual. On most days, he made one fleeting sweep of the compound and then, retired to a shed perched on the outskirts of the premises. It was hardly a vantage point. The hulking build of the metal hangers consumed much of the guard's visuals.
Laurelin packed up her make-shift campsite and scooted to a secluded part of the facility, where the fence sunk deeper into the ground. Getting in involved some athletics. The fence was topped with great loops of barbed wire. Luckily, she'd brought something thick enough to hurl over the obstacle and cover it to protect her skin. The chainmail rattled as she vaulted over it, swinging one leg after another, to finally land on two feet. Laurelin dusted herself down and straightened, feeling triumphant as the first stage of her mission was a success.
Stealth. She reminded herself as she unpacked her camera. The weight of it swinging from her neck was so familiar, that it was nearly comforting. Laurelin didn't have a lot, the dependability of her camera she treasured. When she turned it on, it was already tuned to her requirements and she could begin immediately.
Carefully, she traversed the blind spots of the security lodge and ducked into the shelter of some burly aircrafts. The first thing she photographed was a decommissioned stealth bomber. Someone had loved it dearly, because the outer hull was decorated in a patchwork of stickers and spray on tattoos. Laurelin paid particular attention to documenting the details. It made her progress across the airfield unexpectedly slow. Each new aircraft had a lot of character and in her eagerness to flatter these fine air specimens, time was consumed rapidly.
The sun was beginning to rise and the crowds would be arriving shortly. She didn't like people : They interfered with her photography.
Before she risked selecting a new candidate to model for her : Laurelin scanned behind her, to be sure the guard wasn't approaching.
The next jet wasn't the generic, bottle-nosed flier she'd become familiar with in her brief study of aviation. This jet's snout was flayed and hardly aero dynamic. Its uniqueness prompted her to take more photos, the flash shining directly on its plating highlighting mauve and other dark, mysterious shades among what she'd first believed to have been a jet black finish. Laurelin's curiosity of the jet's intricacies pulled her closer. She marvelled at the tucks and curves of its design, so very unlike what she'd seen already. The other jets standing on the air base tarmac were either white or blue ; very common, unpolished colours that had since tarnished. This jet was special. It almost looked brand new. Unused, pristine, unmarked. Laurelin wrapped her knuckles against the hull and listened to the dense sound reverb back at her. This jet wasn't hollow bodied like its display counterparts. It was heavy – or so she imagined – and wondered how it could take off while packing so much extra weight. She made a lap of the jet, hunting for an angle that would do its display justice.
The light was draining away quicker now and she was losing time. A concern nagged at her that this jet and all its uniqueness would disappear tomorrow to join its other companions in the security of the hanger. As such, she was determined to make the most of her discovery while daylight still permitted it. With a little daring and courage, she clambered up the sleek side of the craft seeking a bold new angle. It was harder than she anticipated. Her shoes squeaked and slipped across the metal. She carefully elevated her camera ahead of her, then hauled up the rest of her body on top of the jet until she was straddling its strange bulky nose. She felt an odd sensation beneath her, like tingling or a vibration but attributed it to the adrenalin pumping through her legs and her knees feeling weak. Laurelin was daring, but she wasn't reckless. She'd already surpassed her limit for foolhardy adventure and wouldn't push her luck. The guard would surely be along to check the aircraft stock any minute. Laurelin was sure she had just enough time to take one last photo...
The camera flash shone directly into the cockpit, lighting up the glass.
Under her body, there was a notable shudder and a synthesized groan. She couldn't have imagined it. The angry thrum of a suddenly active engine passed directly into her body.
« Stop that ! » Came a highly disgruntled voice, the likes of which Laurelin had never heard before. It was loud, booming. The nose of the jet began to shiver and shake.
Laurelin was flung from her seat, like a cowboy from a buckaroo. She landed hard, the tarmac breaking her fall in the most unpleasant way. The bones in her shoulder sustained the brunt of the impact. Laurelin picked herself up off the floor, cradling the damage.
Above her, a shadow grew. A huge mechanical metamorphosis was underway.
Laurelin gasped, as cogs and gears realigned to form something entirely new, something big dark and terrifying. Though her legs were poised to run, she was transfixed.
Arms and legs grew out of the shape .
Soon, she was confronted by glowing magenta headlamps.
« Vermin ! » Sneered the hulking frame that had once been a jet.
Laurelin felt danger as an instinct, seeing something invariably hostile revving into life near the mechanical being's hand added to that fear. It looked like a cannon – something plucked straight out of Sci-Fi – that pointed directly at Laurelin. She could feel its heat.
Each rotation of the gun's inner workings produced a threatening whine.
« This planet is full of pests ! » Said the seething giant, as its huge cannon thrust forward. « You should all burn ! »
It was too hard to believe. Laurelin's rationale was fighting against her own eyes. In the back of her mind : She was still terrified the security guard would catch her trespassing. And, at the same tim : That seemed like a very trivial thing to worry about, when the heat that exuded from the threatening weapon was singeing her eyebrows.
The hum from the cannon developed into a high-pitched whine.
Reactions forestalled by sheer disbelief finally took control : Laurelin was hurtling away from her imminent destruction, just in time.
A round of boiling plasma exploded from the cannon and scorched a crater in the tarmac.
Laurelin would have been dust.
Her legs carried her quickly As soon as the fence was in reach, she threw herself at it. The thick covering of fabric she'd used to initially transverse the barbs came toppling down with her on the other side of the railing. Hurrying back to her feet, Laurelin caught sight of the guard jogging onto the scene.
He was already puffing and red in the face. He couldn't keep his big mouth closed or hold back is astonishment. « What the... » He cursed loudly.
The attention of the mechanical monster dropped to the guard at the sound of his voice, a cruel smirk twisting up its gnarled lips.
Laurelin heard the buzz of the cannon get louder again. She turned away and sped toward the tree line.
Behind her, there was a second whirring thump as the cannon discharged.
Laurelin dared not look back. She crashed into the covering of trees, driven by terror through the tangles of undergrowth that scratched her ankles. Her camera bumped against her chest.
There was a sizeable distance between her and the airbase now.
The deeper she climbed into the wood, the darker it got.
Laurelin finally slowed down, drawing breath into her lungs in deep and frantic gasps.
« Come out, come out where ever you are... Pesty. »
The ground moved with every footstep the giant made.
« Come out ! " It bellowed again, before firing another few warning shots into the sky. The shots were like flares. The forest was bathed in a hot orange glow.
Over a distance, travelling down the nearest road : The sight of such easily recognisable cannon fire caused some concern for a solo traveller.
The round orange orbs charged high into the sky, before fizzling into nothing.
« Optimus ? » Ironhide spoke over the comms. His leader had gotten distracted mid sentence and the weapon's chief was without orders.
Optimus Prime was observing the flares of light with keen interest. The road ahead of him was deserted and with that, he announced his pursuit. « Ironhide : I have sighted possible cybertronian activity and I am en route to investigate. » The thick tyres of the semi truck mounted the kerb and turfed up the grass, as Optimus pressed toward the neighbouring woodland. « I will rendez-vous with you at the arranged coordinates. »
As he neared the tree line : Optimus rolled into his robot mode, extending his arms to catch himself and engaging his own handheld cannon as a precaution. « Optimus out. »
Around him the air was quiet, save for a distant thudding.
With his primary optical sensors engaged : Optimus took a visual sweep of the vicinity. Two heat signatures registered in his sights. One significantly larger – cybertronian and with a Decepticon signal – was steadily pounding toward the smaller creature, who tucked itself into the shelter of a tree.
Scowling, Optimus's battle mask snapped up. With the weight of his gun pressed in his hands : Optimus shouldered his way through the trees, advancing on the carnage brewing in the middle of the woods.
The rounds of cannon fire became less sporadic and more concise, catching the tops of trees and setting them ablaze.
The indigenous creature's vital signatures were chaotic.
Optimus feared the quivering organ – with a likeness to a spark, he could see palpitating in the organic's chest – was on the verge of burning out.
As he closed the distance between them, squashing ferns and brambles into the earth : He could see the amber outline of the humanoid in infrared, hugging her head and opening her mouth to scream.
She was hidden. Or so, she hoped.
Clutching her pounding chest, biting her lips hard to contain the whimpers collecting at the bottom of her throat : The bark on the tree she sheltered behind scraped against her back, but comfort was the least of her concerns. She could hear its heavy feet breaking the ground with every step. The floor trembled under her, marking its approach. She feared moving but soon, it would be on top of her and there'd be no hope of escape. However, she lingered until staying was no longer voluntary.
The Being rearranged its second clawed hand. The metal folded in on itself and crumpled, peeling back layers as if reassembling a puzzle. The air thrummed as the Being redirected energy into the second mounted cannons and fired a sustained laser.
The leafy eaves of the trees were burned away.
The beam of light scraped overhead and Laurelin screamed, clutching her ears as ash and scorched twigs rained down on her.
The majority of the tree sheltering had been vaporised, but a resounding crack warned her that what remained was about to come crashing down as well. Tearing up the grass : She crawled, getting dirt under her fingernails and mud stained her clothes.
Faster! Faster! Her instincts urged, but her body was lead.
The tree truck came crashing down behind her, flinging brittle splinters and crisp leaves up like a shroud.
Laurelin coughed and blindly groped her way out of the dust, until she was stopped. Thinking it was another thicket of brambles, Laurelin fought to break her way through. But, each time she scraped at the obstacle : Her hands slipped. Although the smoke burned her eyes : Laurelin had to look. She needed to see what was blocking her path and find a way round it. Trembling, she braced her hands to the obstruction and pushed back.
It was metal. It felt warm.
The foot was firmly rooted to the ground and from it, stemmed a long pillar.
Laurelin shoved back, staring up and up.
Another one. Bigger.
At first, she felt her heart sink.
It was looking directly at her, through icy blue eyes staring down the distance between them.
The decorative licks of flames painted on its body appeared to be dancing under the light of the actual fires that smouldered around them.
« Stay behind me. » It commanded. Its voice was so rich, deep and compelling.
Laurelin was lost but obliged to comply. The countenance of this strange new arrival exuded an undeniable valour, that Laurelin trusted in despite her extreme fear. She staggered up, wobbled and found her way to the shelter of another thicker tree. It had been partially uprooted when the newcomer barged past. Laurelin's fingers bit into the bark. She watched the two formidable mechanical being square off to one another. Her defender rolled his shoulders.
« Optimus Prime. » Snarled the opposition, spitting tar as it spoke.
Laurelin repeated the name under her breath.
« Stand down ! Or be destroyed. » Warned Optimus, holding himself steady as the other mech made a display of his cannon.
« I do not take orders from you ! Autobot ! » The beastly machine charged, roaring something Laurelin couldn't understand.
She flinched hard when they engaged, stumbling to the ground and landing awkwardly. She felt the world around her shake, each time these titanic beings smashed together.
Sparks flew. The air was filled with the scream of rent metal. The smaller of the beings was suddenly grabbed by his ankle picked up, spun and hurled far above the trees. Landing not too far from the airbase. Its impact into the ground churned up a crater.
Optimus Prime hunched forward, his chest rising like a bellows. He intensely stared in the direction he'd flung his adversary.
Laurelin waited with baited breath.
The enemy had been thrown far, so far that it was consumed by shadows and ominously quiet.
« Is it dead ? » She asked, almost too softly to hear it.
And yet, the hulking alien in front of her replied. « No. » Optimus scowled.
In front of them was a blast of orange. The Decepticon leapt into the air and collapsed into its jet mode, then came blasting toward Optimus at sonic speed.
Optimus lifted his cannon and took aim. Firing a single shot, that threatened to explode directly over the cone of the jet's nose if it hadn't immediately pulled up.
Their enemy looped up and maintained its kamikaze pursuit.
Laurelin shielded her head and stared at death, as it rocketed closer.
Optimus Prime extended a new weapon. There was a ring of clean sleek metal as a sword ejected from his arm.
It filleted open the belly of the Decepticon jet, as it careered into him. Vital wires were severed. The Decepticon's spark casing was fractured apart and its life spluttered out of existence, with a violent pulse. The jet lay in halves. It's broken body still spitting embers.
Optimus Prime stood at the centre of the carnage. His battle mask dropped as he spole : « Now, he is terminated. »
Laurelin gasped.
The warm glow of the dying fires flanked the mysterious mech's shoulders.
She regarded him with an awe, that gripped her heart and eked into the fibres of her being.
« Are you injured ? »
She shook herself out of her shock and realised he was speaking to her.
This grand alien was talking to her and approaching . He then knelt down, thinking it'd make him less intimidating.
His efforts were unrewarded.
Laurelin was shaking herself apart and still utterly terrified. However, it wasn't because of a harrowing fear for her life. Being addressed directly by Optimus Prime filled her with an immense sense of trust. It was naive. But undeniable. Her first attempt to reclaiming her voice failed. She stuttered and her mouth tasted of pine needles and burning. So, she tried coughing it away and starting again. She was not entirely uninjured. Her shoulder hurt terribly from the initial fall. And, since then : She'd been decorated with a few more bumps and scrapes. There were a few red stains marking her clothes, too. « I'm okay. » She said, despite feeling unstable on her feet. She used the tree to haul herself back to her feet, still feeling in danger of falling.
« I am detecting a gradual decrease in hormones. Your vital signs should stabilize. »
Somehow, she felt obliged to thank him for his foresight but it didn't seem appropriate. So, she continued to stare with her pale lips hanging apart.
Optimus Prime patiently waited for her to adjust : « You undoubtedly have a lot of questions. »
« I do, b-but… I don't know where to begin with. »
« Then, shall I begin for you ? »
The offer was irresistible.
Laurelin nodded quite eagerly, staring up at the staggering giant.
« My name is Optimus Prime. I am an autonomous robotic organism from the planet Cybertro It is located many, many lightyears away from your planet. It has taken years for my crew and myself to venture this far into deep space. But, I assure you : I mean you no harm. Your freedom, your safety… is your right, and my privilege to preserve. »
« W-What about him ? » Laurelin stammered, gesturing to the fragmented corpse cooling on the ground.
« We are part of different factions. Our planet has been at war for millennia. Tthe Decepticons would see your specie enslaved or obliterated. As an Autobot : It is my duty to ensure the Decepticons do not succeed. »
« You're an Autobot ? » Laurelin asked for confirmation.
« Their leader. Yes. »
Laurelin supposed it was her privilege to be in conversation with someone of such esteem. Though, her thoughts remained in the background.
Optimus continued to speak with a smooth and strong tenor, that shook her ribcage : « My kind have come to your planet in search of a very important relic, lost by our fore founders : the All-Spark. Our search has brought us to Earth. We believe that it is hidden somewhere, lying dormant. It is imperative that we retrieve it, before the Decepticon do. Or else, I fear for the continuation of both our species. » Optimus Prime straightened somewhat, reminding Laurelin of his height. He looked skyward, then back to her : « Do you have a designation ? »
« …Laurelin. My name is Laurelin DEANS. » She answered.
« I offer you my sincerest apologies, Laurelin DEANS… for involving you in our conflict. Though you are no longer in any danger, I will escort you to your dwelling. »
Suddenly, she forgot all about her ca r sitting in a ditch somewhere a few miles away. She nodded, still finding it hard to keep her voice.
« Do not be alarmed. » Intoned Optimus Prime. « I assure you : Transformation is a natural skill among my species. » He said, as he stood.
Laurelin took care to avoid his gargantuan feet.
Optimus also reminded her to step back.
She did so, watching with fascination as she witnessed her second transformation take place.
Optimus Prime's armour broke apart. It folded neatly. His frame condensed until Laurelin was confronted with a semi-truck, which was every bit as sleek and refined as the Prime himself.
The door to the cab swung open. « Get in, Laurelin. I will take you home. »
Even after the fight, the explosions and the mayhem : Laurelin's camera was still strapped safely around her neck. It was damaged, but it could have been a lot worse. The camera bumped against Optimus's plating, as she clambered onboard. It was quite a steep climb but soon, she was settled in the driver seat.
« Are you comfortable ? » Optimus asked.
When the engine started up, it was not like normal sounding engine. It sounded smooth and efficient. Very alien.
« Yes, I am. Thank you. Hmm… Do you need directions ? »
It was so normal to say as if she wasn't sitting inside a mechanical organism or hadn't witnessed Optimus just tear another of his kind apart.
Was she being too trusting ? Was he secretly as foul as the other creature that tried to murder her ?
« Your heart rate is rising again. Is there something wrong ? » Optimus began driving.
Laurelin swallowed back her anxiety and shook her head. « I'm sorry. » She bleated. « This is all a little overwhelming. »
« That is understandable. I am aware that your planet has had very limited contact with extraterrestrial life, as you call it. If there is anything you'd like to ask : Please, feel free to do so. In the meantime, some directions would be helpful. » His voice was kind.
Laurelin was ready to believe he was being sincere, even if her mind nagged her to be cautious. She told Optimus her address.
There must've been an onboard satellite navigation system embedded in him somewher,e because the address was all he needed.
The truck jumped, as they rejoined the road.
Laurelin peered out the window and watched the smoke rise from the devastation they'd left behind.
« A lot of people don't believe aliens exist. »
« I find the proof irrefutable. » Optimus replied.
Laurelin chuckled. « Yeah… Me too, now. » Ahead of them : The turning that usually took Laurelin appeared, but Optimus shot straight past it. « Oh ! Y-you missed the turn... » She nervously informed.
The noise coming from Optimus's engine rumbled harder. « I promise you : This way is quicker, according to my global positioning software. »
Laurelin was hardly able to quibble. It was unsettling to think an alien knew more about her home turf than she actually did. « Are there others like you ? » She asked, after a short moment of hesitation.
« Yes. On Cybertron : We number in the hundreds of thousands. Our populace was once in the billions. But, the war has since culled our numbers. »
« I'm sorry for all the losses you suffered. What about on our planet ? How many have you brought here with you ? »
« The team I am leading in search of the All-Spark consists of five, including myself. As for the Decepticons, I cannot say. »
« What are you fighting for ? »
There was a drawn out pause.
Laurelin feared she'd spoken out of place. Her hands itched uncomfortably in her lap.
« Our history is… grim. The leader of the Decepticons was once my ally, my brother. Megatron... He led a revolt against our corrupt senate. But, his policies became compromised through the fighting and he grew corrupt himself. He forgot that we were fighting for freedom. He believed everyone would be better, yielding to the Decepticon way of life. He did not limit his campaign to Cybertron. As mechanical beings : Our life spans extend greatly. Megatron set his sights on the entire universe. »
« But… the All-of-Spark ? »
The carriage rattled around Laurelin, like a laugh. « All-Spark. »
« All-Spark. » Laurelin tried again. « Why's that so important ? »
« It is a source of immeasurable energy. It could be used to resurrect an army out of any mechanical parts. An army of drones. But, nonetheless : An army that would serve Megatron's will. »
« Which would undoubtedly be bad for the galaxy ? » She guessed.
« Undoubtedly . »
« You know… This was hardly the alien invasion I was expecting. »
« Do you often expect alien invasions ? »
« Sometimes... But, more of the kind where the mother ship arrives over the White House or they unearth themselves in huge tripods burried in the ground. »
« Have you encountered the- »" Optimus made a noise, an odd one. It sounded like white noise on a radio frequency. He educated Laurelin's confusion informing her that it was the name of a specy occupying a star system far, far away. They were known for mobilised via tripods. He informed her they would be proud to know they have a place among Earth pop-culture.
Laurelin informed Optimus that if they watched the movie, his alien friends would sooner be offended.
« I find you – Earth indigenous organisms – to be curious creatures. I wish we had met under more pleasant circumstances. »
The were already pulling off the freeway.
Optimus indeed drove faster than the average semi-truck.
They were soon driving through an area Laurelin recognised as local to her home. « Where will you go, now ? » She'd removed her shoes sometime ago. So, Laurelin's pretty bare feet curled round Optimus's tough upholstery.
« I must reconvene with my team. They're already expecting me. »
« Aren't you worried I'll do something ? »
« Like what ? »
« Call the police… or the government ? I don't know... Though, I wouldn't do that. » She added urgently. « But, I… For someone who changes into a truck to remain inconspicuous : You don't seem too worried that I may rat you out. »
« I trust in your judgment, Laurelin DEANS. As you have trusted in me, to keep you safe. »
It was a fairly touching sentiment. Laurelin bobbed her head. « I won't tell anyone about you. I promise. " She added sincerely.
A sense of warmth radiated through the cabin.
" I know you won't. But… Thank you. »
At last, they were turning into the windy lane that led up to Laurelin's home.
It was a respectable time in the morning, now. The sun was up and it made Optimus's plating glow.
Gravel crunched under his tyres, as he carefully navigated the turns and weaved his way up the narrow road toward the house in the middle of nowhere.
Laurelin was eager to rest her head.
" This is where you live ? " He enquired dubiously.
They were confronted with a big, old house that sloped to one side. It looked unstable and like it had sunk several feet into the ground, since the day it had been built. It looked shamefully dilapidated. A few of the walls were peppered holes.
« Yes... That's it. »
There was light, shining out of the window that'd been left on all night. The barn doors were opened, but there was no car inside. Just some old tools.
« I'm staying with a friend. »
« Are you well looked after ? »
« What do you mean ? » Laurelin was oblivious to his concern. « Yeah. We take care of each other. » She had lost the habit that someone cared for her, save for her old friend.
Nevertheless, Optimus begrudged pulling up on the kerb and letting the driver's door drop open. « Laurelin : Should you ever require my assistance again, I have downloaded my personal communications frequency into your cellular device. »
Laurelin reached for her phone, which had been forgotten about for the entire journey and remained sitting snuggly in a deep trouser pocket. « How did you... » But, her own theories answered her question.
Optimus's engine started up again. « Do not hesitate to call. »
Laurelin was standing on the dry, cracked soil staring at the dashboard when the door closed.
« I wish you well, Laurelin DEANS. Though, I am certain we will meet again someday. »
Laurelin clutched her camera and said a soft goodbye.
Optimus motioned to take his leave.
« Be careful... Optimus Prime. » Laurelin whispered, watching him leave.
He turned in the road, steadily rolling back the way he'd come as watch the sight of Laurelin DEANS shrink in his wing mirror.
Until they meet again.
