Reviews:
Muirgen79: So true, but they don't know it yet! Let's hope S7 doesn't find out, because as you said, that would be horrible! Thank you for reviewing!
ThisIsHope: Thank you so much, darling! I love reading your reviews. They always make me feel better. :) I'm glad you like Nicole, I'll try to keep her character in place!
xoxo: I completely agree! I don't know what came over her to say that. Chevy over Ford any day! I'm glad you said that, I'll definitely take that into consideration and make your wish come true. :)
Lyra Snape Malford Black: Thank you so much! I'm really glad you like this story so much! I agree with you completely when you say that there are waaaay too many Bee/OC stories out there, and only a handful of them are really good ones! Here's the chapter you waited for and I hope you like it!
Bee4ever: Thank you so much!
Angel of Randomosity: Thank you for reviewing! Hopefully, it'll all turn for the better. :)
Rinpup14: Thank you!
Chapter 11: Secrets Are Burdens
The ride was quiet, without much hassle or speed. The Camaro was rolling down the streets in a normal manner, acting like a normal car would, except for the driving part. A normal car would need a driver, but this one operated perfectly without one. It stopped at every stoplight and drove whenever the light turned green. It was like it already knew all the signs and customs of Earth driving.
How was that possible?
I knew it wasn't manmade, it said so.
Maybe it lied. God only knew at this point.
It put on light music to ease the tension in the car, which surprisingly worked. Sam and Mikaela eventually started to chatter, even though Sam was in the driver's seat and Mikaela was in the back, they would talk in low voices. I was the odd one out, as always, staying silent unless absolutely necessary. I would look at the steering wheel most of the time, watching it turn gently and almost effortlessly. It was fascinating to see it move on its own.
But then, I frowned. I had a question running around my mind for quite some time now. The Camaro battled the Mustang, I understood that, but where is that Mustang now? Were these things even killable? If not, wouldn't the cop car eventually find its way to us?
And that had made me gather my bravery to ask the question out loud. I needed to know. Not knowing could kill all of us and we wouldn't even be cognizant of it. "Hey, um…" I said rather loudly, even though the music was low and Sam and Mikaela's voices even lower. "Um, Camaro?" I asked, my heartbeat spiking up in anticipation, hoping the car would reply. And hoping it wouldn't lash out on me.
"Please, call me… Bumblebee." The radio said in a gentlemanly manner. Sam and Mikaela ceased talking the very instant I started speaking, but the radio returned to the previous gentle song effortlessly. The atmosphere thickened once more, even with the music resounding.
I took in a shaky breath, gathering my bravery once more to utter the question. "Bumblebee." I repeated, trying to memorize the name of the car. "W… What happened to the… the black robot?" I spoke out insecurely.
"Oh, him? He won't be pickin' on anybody from now on." The radio assured with a clip from a movie.
His reply didn't make me feel all that safe, but… it made me feel more secure, even by a small notch. I still hoped that after all of this cacophony and action, he would take us home and I would forget that all of this ever happened.
To my bitter disappointment, where the Camaro took us wasn't home. Definitely not home. Instead, it took us into a dark and damp alley in the city, secluded from any eyes. What it was going to do to us here, I couldn't possibly know. There were too many possibilities, really, which made me all the more uncomfortable.
He finally stopped driving, pressing the brake pedal as the car came to a gentle stop. The three of us climbed out of the car, looking around. It was quiet, the alley stank of sewer smells and it was so dark and damp in here, I was afraid I would get a disease. Of course, if cars and robots didn't kill me first.
Which reminded me, what were the robots doing here in the first place?
I didn't get to ponder on the subject because an engine sound cut off my chain of thought. It was coming from in front of us. It was loud, like that of a truck.
Through the fog, or mist, whatever it was, I could see the roof of the truck, along with the chrome smokestacks that rose from behind the cab. It was packed with blue LED lights, that much I could immediately tell, seeing as they were all around the grille. When the truck came out of the mist, it was a large and beautiful Peterbilt long-nose semi.
Before it could reach us, I heard more engine sounds behind us and I immediately turned around. Three very different types of cars drove towards us.
Was this an ambush?
But then again, the Camaro wouldn't need an ambush of cars to kill us. All it really took was just one swat of a robotic hand and we were dead. I knew that because I saw the force and ferocity Bumblebee fought with against the black Mustang. I didn't want the same to happen to us.
The truck that was in front of us still rolled slowly, while the cars behind us were approaching at a much faster pace. A grey Pontiac Solstice was on its way to us, followed closely by a Hummer-ish neon yellow ambulance vehicle and a black on black GMC Topkick truck, meaning it had a black paint color and black rims.
It wasn't long before the cars behind us parked, as if waiting for something. For a signal, or a command.
The Peterbilt truck stopped right in front of us. Sam and Mikaela had their mouths open, and I probably had too, but it was because I was mesmerized by the amount of chrome on this truck.
There was something else that caught my eye, though. A weird, red robot face on the top of the long-nose chrome grille.
It was familiar.
But then, the truck did something strange, unnatural and alien.
It started to transform.
The grille started to separate from the long nose, sliding somewhere too quickly for me to acknowledge. The engine behind the grille split into parts and moved back, the roof and windows sliding to the front, making a chest of something. Two arms spread out from the chest as the back of the truck formed two long legs, making the robot stand tall.
And as the cherry on top, a head came out of the chest, setting perfectly. The face was silver, with eyes that were royal blue. The lips and nose were covered by a silver facial mask as the robot looked upwards, all the parts slowly sinking into place.
The Camaro started to go in reverse, away from us. The three of us stuck together in a triangle formation, watching everything in awe. The cars behind us started to transform too. I turned around with eyes wider than I ever, watching their every move, every metal panel that slid and turned. It was mesmerizing, majestic.
When they all finished their transformations from cars to robots, I could barely breathe. It was all so quick, my mind couldn't catch up. There were five of these creatures surrounding us. My heart felt like it would explode from beating so hard, so fast.
The big blue and red robot that was up until ten seconds ago a Peterbilt truck, knelt down on one knee, his blue eyes staring down at us, the face mask no longer hiding his lips and nose.
He was awfully close to us.
These things were humongous.
What made my breathing stop was when the very same robot stared into Sam and mine's eyes. It was looking from him to me and then it spoke.
It freaking spoke.
"Are you Samuel James and Nicole Witwicky, descendants of Archibald Witwicky?" The big robot asked, his voice a deep, authoritative baritone that carried a regal tone to it. It demanded respect and dignity.
But I couldn't give any of that. I felt like I would faint from the excitement, or rather, the immense fear.
I could barely keep my lungs functioning, and Sam was staring at the robot like a statue. It was Mikaela who whispered to us. "They know your names."
Yes, we kind of knew that.
"Yeah?" Sam asked the big robot, looking at him with eyes wide as mine.
Holy shit, was this really happening? There's a whole team of them!
How many of them are here?
"My name is Optimus Prime." The robot introduced himself in perfect, fluent English. "We are autonomous robotic organisms from the planet Cybertron." He explained.
I had too many questions in my head after hearing two simple sentences. What was an Optimus Prime and a Cybertron?
"But," A voice from my right piped in. It belonged to the Hummer-like ambulance. Hummers were never ambulances, but it had the front end of one. It was standing tall, voice wise and just as authoritative as the first robot's. "You can call us Autobots, for short."
"Autobots." Sam and I said rather absently, taking all of this in. We were just talking to alien robots that spoke fluent English and transformed into cars, or the other way around, that fought off other cars that wanted to kill us, also asking if we were our great-great-grandfather's descendants in a stinky alley in the middle of the night.
I'm dreaming, right? It all has to be a crazy dream because of the genealogy report a couple of days ago.
Right?
My heartbeat picked up again. No, this was definitely not a dream. My brain couldn't make so many details. My knees started to sting again. The deep scratches reminded me of the pain earlier this day, when Bumblebee fought with the evil Mustang.
"What's crackin', lil' bitches?" A deep voice resounded from my right once more, and the grey robot that was once the Solstice spun around, jumping and landing on a rusted car behind him, in what he thought was a 'cool' pose.
Did he just call me a bitch?
When he landed on the rusted car, what remained of the window glass shattered, and the metal twisted wrongfully, causing me to things were massive and heavy.
My breathing hitched.
Yeah, he could call me that.
"My first lieutenant, designation Jazz." The Prime one spoke.
Wait, was he introducing us to the robots?
I didn't want to be introduced to anyone!
"This looks like a cool place to kick it." Jazz said, crossing his arms.
Please don't kick anything. Or anyone.
"How'd he learn to talk like that?" Sam asked, pointing to the grey robot.
Prime explained. "We've learned Earth's languages through the World Wide Web."
So practically they know every language.
Fantastic.
I felt thundering vibrations on the ground, coming from the black robot with massive cannons on its arms. It looked like he could level a city with those.
My fear spiked again, not because of the cannons, but because I was in front of Sam and Mikaela. I was the closest one to the black robot. The cannons started rotating, a faint whine coming from them, barely hearable.
Was it charging?
"My weapons specialist," Prime said, gesturing to the black robot. "Ironhide."
One cannon had an orange light coming from it, and the other a blue one. The whining sound intensified tenfold as the one called Ironhide trained his cannons at us. Or rather, me.
"You feelin' lucky, punk?" He said in a deep, threatening voice.
My fight or flight instinct kicked in, and knowing I couldn't run away anywhere, I used my power. Intimidating a weapons specialist was the last thing on my bucket list, but it had to be done.
I put my palms up and trained them at him, two blue energy spheres hovering in front of them, just waiting to be shot at the robot. "I am if you are." I threatened just the same, and even though I sounded confident and strong, I was feeling the antithesis.
There was a deaf silence. My heartbeat was in my ears and I felt my knees shaking.
To my complete surprise, the robot laughed. "I like this one already!" Then he crouched, the light out of his cannons vanishing and the whining sound ceasing, as if it was never there. My blue energy spheres dissipated beautifully into nothingness as I put my hands down, staring at the black robot's blue eyes. It seemed to have a dark silver scar over one eye cap. "Tell me, are all femmes on this planet like you?"
I was downright shaking now. "Please don't kill me." I said in a weak voice. I wanted to live.
The rest of the robots chuckled around me, as if I had said something stupid.
"Don't worry, lil' lady." The grey one, Jazz, spoke up from his 'cool' pose on the car. "He wouldn't hurt a fly."
"No, but I will hurt you." Ironhide straightened up from his crouching position and trained a cannon at Jazz, the whining sound growing louder as the orange light popped up again.
"Easy, Ironhide." Optimus warned.
A few seconds later, Ironhide dropped his weapon down, killing the power to it. "Just kidding. I just wanted to show them my cannons."
Under different circumstances, I would have thought that the cannons were amazingly cool and I would have loved to tinker with them, even if I didn't know two things about cannons. But now, I was petrified to the bone.
"Our medical officer, Ratchet." Optimus pointed to the Hummer ambulance. The medical robot seemed to sniff the air. Weird.
"The boy's pheromone level suggests he wants to mate with the youngest female." Ratchet said.
Sam and I were fraternal twins, meaning we were born somewhat at the same time, but that meant that Mikaela was younger than us, perhaps by just a few months.
My face scrunched up when I realized what the robot had said.
"Ew, Sam." I look at him. He was thoroughly embarrassed. Mikaela, too.
"You already know your guardian, Bumblebee." Optimus said and my blood ran cold. Guardian? Car-robot Bumblebee was our guardian?
Hell no!
"Check on the rep, yep, second to none!" Bumblebee played through the speakers.
"Bumblebee." Sam repeated.
"Guardian?" I breathed out shakily.
"You're our guardian, right?" Sam wanted to confirm. Bumblebee gave a chirp and a nod.
No!
I didn't want to be guarded by these… these things!
"His vocal processors were damaged in battle." Ratchet said as he shot a red laser into Bumblebee's throat. Bumblebee started choking.
Was the medical officer killing his patient?
Then Ratchet cut off the laser. "I'm still working on them."
My body couldn't take any more of this anxiousness, fear, pain and insecurity.
I didn't want any of this. I didn't ask for this! All I wanted was to go home for Christ's sake!
Gripping Sam's hand for comfort, I could feel my heart rising up to my throat. I could pass out any time now.
"There is no need to be so afraid, young one." The yellow Hummer said to me, looking at me. That was it, my heart couldn't take it anymore. Now the killer doctor was talking to me! Was he going to laser me as well? "We are not here to hurt you."
Against my own advice, I responded. "Then why are you here?" I said, the adrenaline making my tongue faster than my brain. "What do you want from us?"
It was Optimus who answered. "We are here looking for the Allspark. And we must find it before Megatron."
Earth didn't have Allsparks! And how would they even find that here, on Earth, for that matter?
"Mega-what?" Sam asked. What the hell was a Megatron? We didn't have those either!
The big blue and red robot rose to his feet and pressed something on his head. A second after that, his eyes sparked up white and he emitted holograms all around us, like an overly large and developed projector.
Only thing was, this image was so damn real. The ground beneath me started to crack and fall, revealing an orange inside of the Earth. I had to remind myself constantly that all of this was just an illusion. Large metallic, not to mention alien, probes rose up from the ground and into the sky, making some kind of structures. I didn't know what this was.
"Our planet was once a powerful empire, peaceful and just. Until we were betrayed by Megatron, leader of the Decepticons. All who defied them were destroyed."
It was like Prime was showing us their world, or rather, how it fell apart.
Speaking of falling apart, the ground started to crack off again. I moved a step back.
Suddenly, explosions boomed, sparks flew around and blue and red flames took over the darkness. It was all an illusion, although much too real for comfort. The image was clear; Megatron and the Decepticons destroyed it all.
"Our war finally consumed the planet, and the Allspark was lost to the stars." Prime said, just in time for us to see a big dark silver robot with piercing red eyes that threw a spear at a nearby robot. Its eyes brightened with glee when the victim robot fell to the ground unmoving.
"That's Megatron?" I asked, pointing to the robot that threw the spear.
"Yes." Prime answered. "Megatron followed it to Earth, where Captain Witwicky found him."
Holy smokes. Our grandfather discovered an alien race?
"Our grandfather." Sam said in awe, looking at Optimus. How did we not know this? Did dad even know about this?
Prime shut off the projector from his eyes, and they returned to their normal blue color.
"It was an accident that intertwined out fates. Megatron crash landed, before he could retrieve the Cube."
Wait, the Cube? What was the Cube now?
I didn't get to ask, as Optimus continued with the story. I'd have to ask him later, if I dared, that was.
"He accidentally activated his navigation system. The coordinates to the Cube's location on Earth were imprinted on his glasses." Optimus said.
"How'd you know about his glasses?" Sam piped in. Really, how did he?
"eBay." The big robot answered.
But of course. They had access to the internet, they knew all the languages, it was really no wonder that they knew how to find what they needed.
So stupid eBay got us all into this. If they hadn't found the glasses and located Sam, then they would have never found us.
"I thought you took it down once we bought the car?" I asked Sam.
"No, I guess I forgot."
"You idiot." I frowned.
Ratchet's voice broke us up. "If the Decepticons find the Allspark, they will use its power to transform Earth's machines,and build a new army."
Okay, so if they find the Spark thing, they will kill us. We can't let that happen. Were the Spark and the Cube the same thing?
"Sam and Nicole Witwicky," Optimus's voice resounded through the alley, as all of his comrades surrounded him. I didn't like where this was going. He was looking at us expectedly, as all of them were. "You hold the key to Earth's survival."
Oh, I so did not like where this was going.
My dear readers, what's going on? Reviews have been minimal, both for this story and for Golden Gods. I would really appreciate it if you reviewed this story and told me what you liked, disliked, what you would like to see and what I'm doing wrong. A writer needs feedback! But, I want to thank all of you who reviewed, favorited, followed and read this story. It means a lot to see the statistics change for the better, but verbal feedback is really important, too!
Written:
24.05.2015.