By the time Alex was exhausted and forced to slow to a walk, he still had very little idea of where he was. He shoved a hand in his pocket and pulled out his cell phone, planning on calling someone for help, even if it was Bill who would bite his head off again, but he cursed loudly when he saw a huge crack running down the centre of the screen. Apparently it hadn't survived the encounter with the Ram.
He was now stuck somewhere, with no contacts, very little money, and a still painfully throbbing head. Everyone, his father, brother and Bill, would think he was just out drinking or doing something stupid. He cursed himself for being so habitual.
Desperate for a breather, Alex turned into a side alley and wandered a little way down it to where a shiny, dark crimson Ford Mustang GT was parked to one side, causing him to eye it up cautiously. He couldn't be too careful now.
However, when it didn't spring into life and try and run him over, Alex just settled to admiring it casually, running his eyes over the two black racing strips that ran over the hood, disappearing under the windscreen, only to appear and continue over the roof and down the back. It didn't look half bad actually. And it looked like it had been pimped out with a killer sound system, by the looks of the whole back of the car having been turned over to speaker space. He wouldn't mind one of these cars, if the money happened to come his way, that was.
He was just bending to peer into the drivers window to admire it some more when he head a quiet rumble from the end of the alley that he'd come from, alerting him to the black Dodge truck that was slowly rolling down the alley towards him.
Alex backed himself into the Mustang quickly, supposing he could use it as cover if the truck tried to crush him.
But the Ram did eventually come to a halt in front of him, the engine settling as it ticked over. After a moment, Alex put his hands up in defence, just to be on the safe side, "Whatever I've done, I'm sorry. Really. I am. I didn't mean it. Please don't run me over," he pressed himself against the Mustang, hoping he wasn't scratching the paintwork, even if that was the least of his concerns, "Even if you can't hear me," Alex tried again, now adding in hand motions, "You're big, I'm small," he waved his arms around, "You don't want to waste your time on me."
Alex kept his hands up, looking around him nervously. He twitched violently when the engine of the Ram suddenly revved loudly, then began to waver slightly. Had Alex closed his eyes, the sound could almost have passed off for laughter. But faced with the chrome grill of the Ram, it just sounded like what he guessed his impending doom was.
However, if Alex wasn't quite on the verge of soiling his underwear, he was now as the front of the Ram, straight down the hood, a split appeared, and faster than his eyes could follow, the truck pulled apart and began to fold and twist in ways that Alex could never have imagined. Doors, windows, metal, the engine, they all flew past his eyes as they moved around rapidly, the sound of graunching metal filling his ears, the previous truck form of the Ram disappearing completely as every single part of the vehicle moved to a new position, taking on a humanoid shape.
Alex was virtually lying on the Mustang now, looking up with wide eyes as the truck-thing straightened up to its full height, the last thing to finally slide into place being the now reformed bonnet over its chest, acting like a breast plate. It was now towering over him, virtually as tall as the buildings around them. He guessed that it must be around twenty feet tall, at least. Two piercing blue eyes imbedded in a face of metal stared down at him intently, while its shoulder moved slightly, suggesting it was laughing a little at him still.
Alex had no idea what to say or do. One didn't often come face to face with something like this. It was almost exactly like the NEST reports on the news that he so violently opposed. He was frozen to the spot in disbelief as he tried to take in the mass of seemingly organic metal that had just seconds ago been a popular pickup truck.
Eventually he managed to mutter a rather quiet and garbled, "Shit," followed by, "Please don't kill me."
The thing before him seemed to find that though amusing, and laughed out loud properly before responding in a voice similar to that of the Aston Martins, however accentless, deeper and smoother, "I wouldn't dream of it."
Alex swallowed nervously and slowly put his hands down, letting them fall to his sides, though he stayed pressed against the Mustang.
"You can relax," the truck offered, "For now, at least," he added.
Alex didn't look like he'd be taking that advice anytime soon, and if anything just tensed up even more, "What… What are you?" he asked eventually, ignoring the thoughts that it was some kind of illusion or hallucination whirling around his head.
"Crossfire will explain it to you later. We need to get you out of this area and move you to the northeast," he – Alex presumed it was male – replied.
"What? We? Get me where?" Alex blinked in confusion, suddenly actually feeling as stupid as he knew he was. Normally he was just ignorant.
The truck sighed and shook its head, "Jak, quit fooling around," he looked back Alex towards the Mustang.
"Aw man, Traction, you spoil my fun!" another voice, far more flowing and upbeat came from behind Alex, who leapt away from the car as its engine stared up and both its doors flung open suddenly, narrowly mission him.
"Jak," Traction folded his arms, his metallic face somehow crumpling into obvious disapproval.
The Mustang's doors slammed shut and it rolled back away from Alex a little, "You know me, Tract. Can't help myself. Was planning something cool, it was all good, but you went and blew it."
"Now isn't the time for playing, you heard what Drag said. What Crossfire told us," Traction kept his arms folded.
"Yeah, yeah, sure man," the Mustang rocked back and forth on its suspension casually.
"Uh…" Alex hesitantly put in, not really liking that the two things were talking over his head, "Drag? As in the DBS?"
"Yeah, that's the one," Jak came up behind Alex again and nudged him gently, "He's cool, just a little stuck up. Very mood swing-y too. Though he's a good one, has the best interests and all."
"Oh right," Alex didn't quite understand the Mustang, too busy trying to shuffle away from the car as it continued to bump him up the backside.
"Jak, stop that," Traction sighed, rolling his eyes in a fashion Alex couldn't quite work out how it happened, "We need to be on our way."
"Way where? I can't just go with you. Stranger danger," Alex glanced around him briefly, wondering if arguing with a twenty-foot truck was a good idea in itself.
"It's the safest plan," Traction shook his head.
"Unless you want Envoy up your ass again!" Jak opened and slammed his doors again for emphasis.
"Envoy?" Alex frowned.
"The black Cadillac you got into," Traction's voice darkened, his eyes seeming to dim too, "We don't quite understand his orders, but hopefully he'll be limping back to Doomsday to deliver the message that he's not getting you easily."
Alex shook his head slightly. Doomsday? Envoy? Crossfire? Who the hell were these things? He ran a hand over his face and through his hair, shaking his head, "I don't get this. Aren't you things from the NEST military operation? What do I have to do with anything?"
Traction glanced at Jak who rose up on his suspension, "We're related to them. But we stay separate."
"Undercover, man," Jak dipped his hood to look as if he were nodding.
"So undercover," Alex muttered as he ran his eyes over Traction, "Subtlety isn't your forte, apparently."
Traction bent down slightly, slowly lowering himself onto knee and brought his face level with Alex, "Sometimes you have to see things to believe them."
"Fair enough," Alex took a step back in defence before glancing at Jak, "How come he hasn't transformed into something big and human-like like you?"
Jak suddenly revved his engine loudly and backed away down the alley, beginning to muttered quietly to himself.
Traction shook his head, "It's not best to mention that around him, but you weren't to know that. He was damaged in a conflict with the enemy, Hazard. He's stuck in his vehicle form for now. Pulse, our medic, tried everything to fix him, but nothing seems to work. If we wanted to go home, he couldn't come with us."
"Oh," Alex looked at Jak who was a little way off, turning his front wheels this way and that in the dirt, scuffing them loudly, "And where is your home exactly?" Alex asked while on the subject.
"Cybertron. A way away from here," Traction turned his eyes skyward, "But we've been here on your planet since Optimus Prime called for Autobot support against the Decepticons. Your NEST is an organisation between us Autobots, and you humans against a common enemy. Once originally just Megatron, he now has numerous Decepticons working in squads beneath him, wreaking havoc on Earth."
Alex nodded blankly, having no idea what any of what Traction had said meant. All he'd been able to grasp, albeit it loosely, was that whatever Traction, Jak and Drag were, they were Autobots, aliens from another planet, and that NEST really did appear to be real. Sometimes all it took was a giant robot and a talking Ford Mustang to change ones stance on things.
"We too have our groups under Prime, our group of five is led by Crossfire. We, along with other small bands of Autobots, keep out of the human eye. Until now, at least, it seems," Traction shifted himself, "I don't have time to explain it all right now. We're to meet at a set location in southern Nevada to discuss this sudden change in our way of working. I apologise for your involvement, but suddenly you've become a key part of this fight."
"You expect me to just get up and go?" Alex frowned.
"Yes," Traction looked a little confused.
"People will wonder where I am, I can't just disappear! My father, my brother. My friend. She'll know something is up; she's smart. I have to see her," Alex took his phone out of his pocket and showed it's broken screen to Traction, "I would call her, but your 'saving me' stunt broke my cell."
"Opps," Traction peered at the phone, trying to look vaguely interested before he straightened up, metal grinding as he did so, "Had Pulse been here, he would have fixed it. But since he's not, we must get on our way and we'll see him there."
"I need to talk to my friend," Alex insisted, almost forgetting he was demanding like a spoilt child to a giant alien robot who could just step on him and shut him up.
"Let the human swing by his friend on the way," Jak rolled up behind Alex, having heard that they'd moved off the topic of his damage.
"Yeah, I'll just say I'm going on a road trip," Alex nodded at Jak in appreciation.
"Hmm," Traction studied Alex before sighing and giving a brief nod, "Very well."
"She's just inside Amarillo. That's sort of north right? I have no idea where your friend ditched me," Alex shrugged.
"We can go east to Nevada from there. Crossfire and the others are meeting at our special location," Traction nodded.
"My brother will be pissed to find his car missing," Alex muttered.
"Like you care," Jak commented casually, "Not when you stole Drag last night."
Alex grunted and huffed loudly in response, not bothering to reply.
"We're currently in Lubbock," Traction offered to change the subject.
"What the hey? Why? I live way east of here!" Alex stared at him.
"Drag took you to the place he deemed most secure and would offer you the best treatment. Also that's where we were at that time," Traction shrugged.
"Well thanks for the help, but that Envoy guy still got to me," Alex muttered.
"That's exactly why you need to be moved. Drag suggested Reaper took you, but with Spectre constantly on his tail, it's more dangerous than the roads. At least for long stretches," Traction nodded.
Alex cocked his head to one side in confusion.
"Reaper's a helicopter, Spectre's a jet," Jak put it simply.
"Oh right," Alex nodded vaguely, deciding that he'd better just look like he understood instead of racking his brains to make sense of things. He supposed he might find out more once they reached their destination.
"You get in Jak," Traction told his as he stepped back and bent down, once again beginning to unfold and twist, rapidly reforming into the black Dodge Ram.
Alex just stared at Traction in front of him before he heard Jak open a door behind him.
"Get in then," he prompted, before adding, "I'll drive."
Alex hesitated slightly, "Isn't that like me getting inside you?"
"Sick," Jak bobbed up and down, "Not really. We don't have insides like you. So in you get."
Alex sighed and clambered into the drivers side carefully. The door slammed shut and the engine picked up in volume as the radio blared into life, all the speakers behind him working hard as if trying to deafen him.
Traction set off in front of them and Jak followed behind closely, rocking back and forth on his suspension in time with the music that Alex didn't recognise. He grabbed his seatbelt and yanked it on, latching onto the door as he watched the steering wheel in front of him turning left and right as they made their way out of the ally, and back onto the main street, blending in with the traffic perfectly.