Barricade found himself staring at lockers. The loud bang resulted from tiny organisms nesting in boxes left in lockers. A large one with a long tail and little ears scurried by, quickly followed by a dozen littler babies. Barricade sighed and put away his weapon, walking over to the box to scoop out three more. Then he checked the other lockers for more of the creatures, only to come face-to-face with something that he hadn't seen in years.

It was of him and his sire, playing in the park. The picture had been snapped by a neighbor of the family and taped on their door when it was printed out. Barricade's sire was almost never seen without it, but there it was, stuck on the bottom of the locker. Barricade lifted it out and sighed, holding it between his servos as though it would break if too much pressure was applied. He tucked it into his subspace, then walked out.

Once making his way to the front of the station, he checked to make sure everything was as he had left it. He busied himself with chores, throwing things away that were left in the drawers like wrappers and old cups reeking of mold. Then he took the garbage backs outside to the dumpsters, but was stopped when he saw a femme standing outside, leaning against the building.

"Ma'am, I must ask you to move along."

The femme was white, but she was scuffed and weary-looking. Under her optics were darkened circles and her mouth was scarred up, half of it laying limp and exposing yellowed denta. She looked at him. One optic was shorted out and dead, rolled to face the other way. She was battle-worn, probably a lesser-known survivor of war. On one shoulder, an insignia had been scraped away. The scuffs from it hadn't been buffered or polished away. It was a home-job. "Can I just stay here for a bit?"
"Sure. I just need to throw some things away. But when I leave, you have to as well."

"Thanks," she breathed and she looked back down at her peds. She was raised up several inches by see-through heels, clearly a modification that no other femme sprang for.

Barricade threw the garbage away, then walked back to her. Being alone for so long made him ache for social talk, but the femme didn't seem to be a talker just yet. "Beautiful night," he said, looking up at the stars.

She laughed and followed his gaze. "So did you draw the short straw?"

"No. They didn't give me a choice."

"I can't imagine being in there after all that's happened in this building." She shuddered and sighed. "I was there, you know, when it happened."

"Uh, ma'am?"

She continued to talk. "They were howling and singing. Drove me and the others up the wall for three hours. Then it got real quiet. The officers went nuts. They had done hung themselves on their sheets. The cell was disgusting, really. Energon all over the walls and floor. The poor guy that had to clean it up...he quit the next day. Wound up talking to Rung for several years..." She sighed and looked at him. "Hope you're doing okay."

Well, he was. Now his sensors were super-sensitive to anything even slightly suspicious. His armor tingled and he felt chemicals course through his systems, nearly lighting him on fire. He felt the need to run, but he had a job to do and it needed doing. "I'm doing my best. You should get along."

"Thanks for talking to me," she purred and she did walk off. Barricade watched her until she disappeared.

He decided to slip into the front after securing the back door, for no other reason than it was faster that way. But when he turned the corner, he saw a mech standing with his back to the door. Barricade walked in.

"Sir, you can't be here. the new station is up the road."

The mech didn't move or say anything.

"Sir!"

Then, Barricade heard it. The sound of fluid hitting the tiles. The mech was emptying his waste tank onto the floor.

"Oh, come on, man," Barricade growled and he turned the mech around.

He was obviously without a home. He reeked of rust and waste. He needed a nice warm bath and a good meal, but Barricade wasn't going to babysit. But he did sit the mech down and give him whatever food was in the fridge. The mech took the Energon and ran, sprinting like he would try to chase him down and make him give the food back. Barricade just went back inside and took extra care to lock up.

Then he cleaned up the mess.

12:01 AM

When Barricade sat down in his chair and threw his helm back, his optics were closed. But when he opened them, he squinted.

Something was written on the ceiling.

M and O, then a backward "S". That didn't make any sense. So Barricade spun in his chair, facing the crank-cabinets.

SOW.

His Energon ran cold. That hadn't been there before. What did it mean?

Then the phone rang and he lurched for it. The femme, Starcry, cried over the line.

"Help me, please!"

"Starcry? Okay, hold on." He drug out the paper with her notes and pen again. "What's the matter?"

"I think the other femmes are dead," she wailed.

"Other femmes?"

"The ones I came with! There were three and now I can't hear them. Help me, you gotta help me!"

"I'm going to. Please, try to get out of there. Starcry, listen to me, you have to try and get out!"

"THEY'RE COMING! HELP HELP HELP!"

The line disconnected after a voice growled Come here, little piggy. Starcry's scream quickly followed.

Barricade immediately dialed the new station, getting the same mech as before. "We spoke earlier? Yes, I'm still getting the call."

"Look, sir. If you're getting the call, she's not calling 911. She's calling your station directly. You need to have her hang up and call 911. Did you get any new information?"

"Yeah, she mentioned three other femmes that are possibly dead."

"Okay. I'm going to look into this Starcry, but promise you'll tell her to call 911. We're not getting any record of the call, which is...strange. The minicons assure me all calls have been redirected." The mech sighed. "Okay, I'm going to give you an extension. Keep me posted, okay?"

"Sounds good. Thank you."

"Have a good night."