Transformers: The Eye of Icarus
Prologue: Three Years Ago
-...
The French poet Jean de la Fontaine once said: "A person often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it."
She opened her left eye, tears running down her face as the last of the black smoke cleared from the air around her. She spat what amount of spittle she had left, trying to get the pieces of asphalt and metal out from her mouth.
The city was silent now. From her awkward position, she could just barely glance onto the empty street. Papers fluttered past by swirls of wind down West Madison. Clumsily, almost painfully she moved her good leg to try and relieve the pain. Her attempt to get a better view of the street was to no avail. Once more, she listened.
No screams.
No gunshots.
It really was silent.
She could not hear speech. Nor could she hear the sounds of craft overhead. Her only good eye looked up to her small car shelter. It has pinned her down into the dented roof of a charred taxicab. She could not tell what was car was above her, nor the car that had her left leg pinned.
She closed her eyes and tried to see how she felt. Her fingers and toes were cold. She weakly flexed her fingers trying to get some circulation back in them. Her body was battered, burned, bruised. Clothing torn and muscle shredded to bits. Swallowing, she tried to moisten her burned throat. "Mom."
Nothing. The flurry of pigeon wings from the street. How were they back so fast?
"Mom-?"
She tried to look over where she could feel the arm of her mother by her right side, but the piece of metal that pinned her down was blocking her view.
"Mom, get up." She patted the ground until she felt her mother's hand. She squeezed it as best as she could. It was cold, just like her own "Mom, please-"
She stopped, and her fingers desperately tried to find something. With her hand shaking, she could feel the comforting pulse against her mother's skin, weak but constant. She breathed a small sigh of relief.
She turned her attention to the opposite end of the shelter- back to the street. Dumbly, her left hand felt for the thick red cord around her neck and followed it to the end. Picking up a small whistle, she guided it between her lips.
A rape whistle of all things. It was a gag present that her friend had bought her when he had been short on money during her birthday. He always joked how it could be heard from over a kilometer away. Perhaps he was right. This could just save her life.
"Tweeeeeeeeet!"
She immediately felt defeated by the amount of air she had to exert just to sound it, but she had to keep going.
"Tweeet!'
She panted, trying to suck in air through her nose as best as she could.
"Tweeeeeeeeet!"
Oh God, her head was spinning...
She let her hand drop and she tried to relax, trying to catch her breath but kept the whistle between her teeth. How much easier running had been only minutes ago! It was hell to have to breath like this. But she had to do it. If an international distress call of three wouldn't work, then she knew that she would die. Of what, she couldn't really remember, her mind was fuzzy now. Inhaling, trying to stem the want to cough, she sounded the whistle again.
"Tweeeeeeeeet!"
It was worse this time; she was still spinning as she tried to breathe deeply. But she had to try and stay strong...
"Tweeeeeeeeet!"
Black spots. Purple spots. What was happening?
"Tweeeee-"
Oh God. She was hearing voices now. It must be bad. "Call out? Where are you?" The voice demanded from her.
"I'm right here, can't you see me? I'm here, under my roof." A shadow fell over her entrance.
"Is it just you?" The man asked, she could tell it from his voice.
"No, my mom is with me."
"We're going to get you out, all right?" He tried to reassure her.
"Is this a dream? What happened?"
"It's fine, we can get you out of here." The man grabbed her hand.
"Let go of my hand, that hurts."
"I know, I know. What's your name?"
"Gloria. Gloria Sullivan."
"Hi Gloria, I'm Lennox."
"Hi."
"Is that your mom?"
"Yeah. Her name is Stefanie. But call her Mrs. Sullivan."
"Where's your dad?" He asked.
"We lost him when they came. But you know what?"
"What?"
"He's brave. I know he survived."
"Hey Glora?"
"Yes sir?"
"You're pretty brave too."
"Thanks... I guess. I don't think so though."
"Really?"
"I cried when we were first in here. When they were still around. But then they disappeared."
"I saw them disappear too."
"I cried even when they were gone though. I was scared. I thought we were going to be vaporized like everyone else we were with."
There was silence between them.
"..Sir?" She asked.
"Yes?"
"What's that noise?"
"They're my friends."
"How'd they get cars in here? I thought they were all blown up."
"Let's just say that they're special, okay?"
"Okay."
She looked ahead, resting her strained eye. She could only see with the corner of her eye, but he was still rubbing her arm, getting the cold out from her skin. She didn't mind, it helped to keep her warm, albeit it was a very rough and forceful. She couldn't doze off like she wanted to. With her right hand, she felt the weak beating of her mother's heart through her dirty, sticky skin. She took that into heart that maybe they were going to be okay. The cars had stopped. She hoped that maybe one of them was a medic. Or strong enough to pull her out from her shelter with her mom.
"Hey Gloria, is it all right if I go talk to my friends?" Lennox asked.
"Sure. Can they help us?"
"Yeah, I think so."
He squeezed her hand once more and left her side. She heard him walk away, but a new set of steps approached.
"So you're Gloria?" The new man asked.
"Yeah."
She turned her head and eye as best as she could to the new voice. This time she could make out a uniform. And a gun.
"Are you from the army?"
"Close, but I'm a little bit more specialized. Can I see you hand?"
"Yeah..."
He pulled out a blood pressure gauge and quickly wrapped it around her arm and inflated it. It hurt, but she said nothing. She tried to read his expression, but nothing stood out.
"I'll be right back, all right?"
"But what about my mom? You didn't check her."
He frowned and crouched down and peeked over her to see her mother.
"I'll see what I can get for her."
"...Thanks."
"No problem."
He heard his footsteps walk away and she was alone. Painfully, she moved her free leg to a more comfortable angle once more. She looked forward at the charred, unmarked car before her.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
The hairs one her head stood straight up. She couldn't breath. Was that-?
Thud. Thud. Thud.
It was close. So much closer. She felt blood running down her neck. From her bitten lip. She couldn't mistake it.
The mechanical whirr of joints moving. The earth shaking beneath her battered body. She was terrified.
She screamed.
She screamed until she no longer had air in her lungs to scream. She screamed even as the tears welled into her eyes. She screamed even when the man called Lennox tried to talk sense into her.
The enemy is gone, he tried to assure her. There's no threat.
She screamed until she could only afford to breathe between sobbing.
She cried.
She cried when the man with the blood pressure gauge came with something to calm her down. She cried even as they covered her eyes and held her down to successfully dislodge her and cut a piece of metal still stuck into her to get her out. She cried as something smeared blue and red and yellow moved the smeared black car through her tears.
She dosed.
She dosed when she heard them shouting how they got her mother free. Her lids were heavy as they began an IV for the both of them and they were back boarded with makeshift pieces of metal and wood. Only when she heard the Blackhawk's did she finally sleep.
She slept.
She slept as she was carried to the chopper, labeled as a critical victim. She slept as the man told the co-pilot how they had found her, pinned under a pile of cars that shouldn't have stayed up. Shouldn't have survived the Decepticon attack. Should've been pierced through her skull by the metal pole that was in her eye. Should've been crushed by the cars overhead.
But survived.
Through hell and back, these civilians survived.
How they made it, God only knows.
Oh boy. How was it? I'm kind of racing the clock to go somewhere, but I wanted to get this published so it will motivate me to keep working on the rest of the story. Don't be afraid to comment and rate!