Overdrive
A/N: Here we are, chapter 4 is up! Sorry for the wait! Classes got really crazy at the end of last semester.
Thank you very much to sckid, Mistress Megatron, Gigi Jinx, , Anonymous BW FG, janit3443, vixon, Zaraen, Silver-Streaked Wings, anonomon, vampireyautja, Decepitconloser101, andshecryz, EHSparkwoman, and Camigirl215 for all your kind and wonderful reviews!
Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, but I do own the flesh-bag Avery :)
Don't it make you feel bad?
When you're trying to find your way home
You don't know which way to go?
Crying won't help you
Praying won't do you no good
When the levee breaks, mama, you got to move
-Led Zeppelin, "When the Levee Breaks"
Chapter 4: Obliteration
"Knockout, you fool; report. What is your position? If you do not return to the Nemesis within the hour immediately we will be departing without you."
The Aston Martin vented a stiff cycle as the irritant voice of the Decepticon leader cut through his communications link. He was going to be late, again, and possibly stranded, no thanks to that Primus-forsaken skin-job! Next time the brat needed a ride he'd tell her to can it and call a taxi. No mediocre wax-job was worth enduring weeks of wandering around aimlessly without energon and a decent place to recharge. Not to mention, being left in such close range to the Autobots.
"This is Knockout, reporting: I'll be returning shortly, my liege."
A dreadfully tense silence met him at the other end of the intercom link, and the sports car waited apprehensively for the warlord's response. He could practically feel the tyrant's frustrated glare burning silent holes into him through the connection. Static buzzed in his audios.
"If I discover that you were out on one of your little racing excursions again, your already-questionable position as a Decepticon medic shall be the least of your worries. Am I clear?"
Unconsciously, the medic increased his speed.
"Crystal, Lord Megatron."
An impatient grunt answered him back before the tyrant spoke again.
"For your sake, Knockout, I certainly hope so."
With that, the line cut short. Knockout put himself into overdrive, kicking his speed up to a number well over the limit designated by organic law. He winced at the sound his tires made as the rubber peeled out and over the harsh gravel of the Nevada back roads. His undercarriage rattled uncomfortably as he made his way over terrain ill suited for travel for a model like himself. Bolts and screws within his alt-mode shook and clanked around in protest at the harsh treatment.
Primus, this planet was going to eventually tear him apart. That was, if Megatron did not get to him first…
Hmph. Leave it once more to that irritating flesh-bag to turn a perfectly good afternoon of pampering into something awful.
The sound of a roaring engine and the harsh grating slide of tires over gravel cut the medic off mid-thought with a start. He angled his mirrors back, catching sight of an all-too-familiar blue motorcycle gaining in speed behind him. Clouds of dust and dirt rose into the air as she closed in on his fender. Her motors revved dangerously.
Scrap.
"Looks like I've got company…" Knockout muttered under his breath. He did not have the time or the patience for a little game of cat and mouse, nor a high-speed death chase—no matter how much he would have enjoyed either, on a regular day.
He must have been too caught up in his little com-link chat with Megatron to notice he was being followed. His scanner never once went off in alarm. That was odd—
Primus.
Now he remembered. The slagging flesh-bag had prodded around under his hood and inside his circuitry to clean the dust out of his engine and check for minor problems. She must have accidentally disabled it!
Without thinking twice, the Decepticon activated his lasers and fired back blindly at the two-wheeler in rapid succession. His primary objective was to get back to the ship, as much as he'd love to end up scrapping the irritating femme. Low on energon and recharge, he was in no condition to fight Arcee. He veered quickly to the right as the road began to curve, the terrain sloping upwards dramatically around the steep incline.
If anything, this just seemed to encourage his follower.
As the road sloped, the Autobot's stealthy, small frame provided her with the clear advantage over the Aston Martin. She began to serpentine, rapidly dodging the laser fire and catching up to Knockout quickly.
Rapidly dimming rays of sunlight played off of the femme's armor as she transformed in mid-air. Her delicate frame seemed to freeze in mid-leap as she struck out at the Decepticon, her forearm blades activating immediately with a sharp hiss and click. In an instant, she landed on the front of his vehicle mode, sharp pedes scraping shallow marks into the surface of his paint.
"My finish! Get off, you Autobot glitch!"
"Not a chance-!"
Knockout yelped and swerved, struggling to throw her off. He did not have the time to transform and pound her into scrap metal! Much to his horror, Arcee only clung harder, kneeling and digging her digits into the seams of his hood to hang on with one servo while she slashed a deep gash in the top of his vehicle mode. She reached back, aiming a quick punch to his windshield to try and break open the glass.
Before she could deliver the hit, however, he took advantage of the opportunity to transform and finally throw her off of him. Nevertheless, this did not deter her in the slightest. Before he could shift back into his vehicle mode, she lunged and leapt at him again like a rabid scraplet, tackling him down into the gravel and smashing her fist into his faceplates. Tiny servos wound their way around the disoriented mech's wrists, the two-wheeler's small weight pinning him down.
Primus, the glitch could move fast. The medic barely had time for his optics to focus before the harsh blue light of a blaster canon was leveled and aimed directly in his face. His processor reeled as she began growling sharply in his audios.
"What were you doing in the vicinity of human civilians? I saw a girl climb out of your chassis and walk into the restaurant. Of all 'cons, you were among the last I'd expect to get friendly with the humans. Talk," Arcee demanded.
As the motorcycle-former raised her blaster for a better angle, Knockout used the opportunity to flip them, rolling to his pedes and delivering a sharp kick to her abdominal plating. The Autobot grunted, and he dove down, trapping her form between his knees. She recovered quickly, however, and began firing in close-range at the Decepticon.
Optics widening, Knockout quickly batted her blaster arm away, the lasers burning painful holes into his plating. He growled as one of his forearms rapidly shifted into his surgical buzz saw, sweeping it low and aiming it directly at the femme's neck cables. He jammed it against the delicate metal, smirking as blue energon welled to the surface.
"Answer me, Decepti-scum," she hissed.
"Can't a medic get a little R and R? I was out taking a drive, if you must know, before I was so rudely interrupted," the medic replied smoothly, though not without a sneer of annoyance. "Now, I'd love to stick around and play, but I have a flight to catch."
Before the Autobot could spit out another comment at him, he slashed through her abdominal plating; it was a shallow cut, only meant to disable long enough so he could get away. The two-wheeler grunted in pain, jerking her helm to the side and grinding her dental plating together as he scrambled to his pedes. Knockout broke into a sprint before his plating shifted, assuming his vehicle mode as he sped off again, though this time in the opposite direction.
He detected the sound of laser-fire behind him and the Autobot hissing into her intercom, "Ratchet, send a ground bride for Bulkhead and Bumblebee. I need backup."
Scrap, scrap, SCRAP—
All in all, it had been a pretty slow evening. Barely half an hour had already passed since Knockout had dropped her off, and already Avery found herself nodding off into the cash register.
KO Burger was virtually empty, rows upon rows of perfectly polished plastic tables glowing dimly in the evening light. For once, everything was uncharacteristically in order—the rows of colorful pastel chairs aligned, all condiments neatly organized—even the straw dispensers were nice and tidy! Avery was tempted to prance over there herself and push the dispenser enthusiastically until she made a huge mess of straws to clean up. At least then, she would be doing something.
Taking out her phone, she checked the time again. 5:31PM, Monday. Ugh.
A harsh clearing of a throat snapped her out of her daze. She caught the manager glaring in her direction at the sight of her cell phone, tapping his foot impatiently and harrumphing with disapproval as though she'd just trashed the lobby. She immediately straightened up, slipping the cell phone back into her pocket before her boss could swipe it. With one final glare he walked away, and she exhaled loudly in boredom.
"Having fun?" a voice called out from behind her.
Avery twisted around, surprised to find the motorcycle kid glancing in her direction again. She offered a sheepish wave. He'd been giving her weird looks and hurried glances since she first walked in. The racer would've suspected it as shyness or curiosity, except for the fact he had been gawking at her this whole time like she'd just grown a second head and extra limbs to match. There was something panicky about his movements, like he had something he needed to say but couldn't find the right words to phrase it.
"As much fun as one can have manning the register and avoiding the boss's stink eye," she replied, turning to face him. "Jake, right?"
"Jack," he filled in.
"Right!" Of course his name is Jack. I'm such an ass… She smiled awkwardly at her mistake and continued, "Uh…what's up?"
"Not much," Jack shrugged. "Alison…" he tagged on at the end, testing to remember her name.
"Avery," she said, smiling at him in sympathy.
"Right. Sorry…"
Another moment of awkward silence passed before he finally said, "Look, I know this is going to sound creepy, but there's something you need to know. That guy you got out of the car with…you probably want to stay away from him. I'm not sure if you're friends or what, but…"
Avery blinked, her eyebrows rising high into her hairline at the mention of Pretty Boy. "You know Knockout?"
He opened his lips to speak, but the loud sound of roaring motors and tires peeling over concrete cut him off. Both employees swiveled around in time to see a red Aston Martin dart into the parking lot, tailed by a blue motorcycle, yellow Camaro, and green SUV. The screeching of metal followed the growl of engines and added to the cacophony as the green vehicle violently rammed into a nearby streetlight. The impact knocked the entire structure down, the metal shrieking loudly as it severed from the concrete and toppled down on top of the restaurant.
"What in the name of Sam Hill is going on?!" the manager exclaimed, his eyes bugging out as wide as saucers when he saw the ruckus outside. Within mere seconds, they all heard parts of the restaurant's structure caving in as the building struggled to support the weight of the lamppost. Cracks began to creep into the overhead tiles of the ceiling. The supervisor wasted no time in yelling, "EVERYBODY OUT NOW!"
Jack and Avery immediately scrambled for the doors with every other employee, nearly tripping over each other in the process. Everyone evacuated quickly, rushing outside to survey the damage and—of course—take pictures of the entire scene. From how it looked on the outside, the building managed to withstand the weight of the streetlight. However, this ensured no future stability. The manger was about to phone for help when he caught a closer glimpse of the cars speeding around maniacally in the parking lot. His jaw dropped open wide.
"WHAT THE-…!"
Avery followed his gaze, and much to her horror, the vehicles sported no drivers. She blinked rapidly, trying to clear her vision to see if it her eyes had made a mistake, but sure enough, even with all the rising debris and chaos, the drivers' seats remained vacant.
"DUDE, YOUR MOTORCYCLE'S ALIVE!" someone shrieked at Jack. The teen's stoic expression dropped into one of absolute horror at the remark, though it seemed he was more terrified of the other's discovery as opposed to the actual fact his vehicle had grown a mind of its own.
The racer whipped her head back around toward the chaos, unable to tear her eyes away.
She did recognize one car in particular—Knockout's cherry red Aston Martin. Despite sporting a lot of fresh wear and tear in the paint job—how in god's name he managed to screw up his finish so quickly in the span of half an hour, she would never know—the flashy silver designs along the door's sides were unmistakable. It didn't take long to figure out whom the other three vehicles were chasing.
"KNOCKOUT!" she shouted, pushing through the crowd and waving her arms dramatically.
Despite the fact no one seemed to be inside the cars, Avery had to give it a try. He could have been bound and gagged in the back seat or trunk of a self-programmed high-tech military spy vehicle in the middle of a high-speed death chase for all she knew. I really hope that's the case, for his sake!
Her shouting seemed to grab the car's—whatever it was—attention, and it suddenly served and sped in her direction. Avery felt her blood turn to ice, immediately regretting her decision to call out as something about the vehicle seemed to change, to shift. The doors and outer plating broke away, the body of the car shattering into a series of plates before it began to change form.
Is Knockout's car growing…ARMS?!
Avery gawked and froze in fear at the sight. Suddenly, being flatted and turned into road kill by the Aston Martin was the least of her worries.
"Wait, what are you-? NO—!" Jack broke into a sprint and dove to knock her out of the sports car's path, but it was too already late.
The Aston Martin separated and rearranged itself in a matter of seconds, the large red body of a robot emerging and heading straight for her. The racer shrieked, feeling hot metallic fingers close around her form none-too-gently and squeeze, ripping her from the ground and lifting her high up into the air before the sounds of shifting gears filled her ears once more. Within seconds, she was flying; the next, she was seated and strapped in tightly to the driver's seat of Knockout's car.
She barely had time to scream as thick nylon straps suddenly encased her body, crushing the air out of her lungs and yanking her back tightly against the dark leather interior of the car. No amount of wriggling would free her from their confines. Avery's breath came out in shaky gasps, palms clammy and cold.
Panicked brown eyes darted about the car, finding no sign of Knockout. Bile churned in her stomach, adrenaline pumping wildly through her veins in time with her pulse. Her heart pounded loudly in her brain just as the radio cut to static and a familiar voice filtered through.
"Long time no see, princess. Hang on tight. We're going to go for a little ride."
A/N: Please leave me a review, positive or negative! I do love to hear your feedback! Chapter 5 is coming soon, and I hope you enjoyed!
-KM
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