Bumblebee wished he understood humans better. He knew there was a lot he was missing, things not being said, feelings that didn't find their source in any of the stuff he knew about, but he couldn't sort it out. He didn't know enough about humans to guess. He just knew all these people seemed to feel betrayed and angry and guilty and lost and alone and he couldn't figure out why.
These people had a place they could call home, people they could call family, and an entire planet under them which was neither dead nor dying. And yet... somehow, they were the most miserably unhappy people Bumblebee had ever encountered. It was like they hated the very idea of being happy and were doing everything they could to make sure neither they nor anyone around them had a chance of having that. But he knew that couldn't possibly be true, so he must be missing something here. And, for reasons no logic could explain, he cared.
The drive wasn't a long one, but they had still left the city behind by the time they got where Rick was taking them. They turned onto a road with a sign saying it was under construction. Traffic cones, formerly lined across the road, had been set aside, and a couple of guys sat near them. They waved Rick through, and would probably put the cones back when everybody invited arrived.
Bumblebee was surprised to find that he did understand what was going on here. This wasn't the first time Bumblebee had seen a street race. In fact, he'd participated in them before, though never against his will, and never when he couldn't take control of the driving if things got out of hand.
Not far from the cones, but out of sight of the main road they'd left, there were gathered a bunch of expensive cars. Rick parked Bee near them, cut the engine and got out. He didn't go far, but climbed onto Bee's hood, as all of the other drivers who'd gotten there early had.
"Hey, Rick!" called one of the drivers, "Where'd you get that one?"
"Dad gave it to me," Rick answered.
"What about the Jag?"
"You think I'd risk the Jag in a race like this? Get real!"
"I hear that," the driver responded, patting the hood of the car under him, "I 'borrowed' this one from my brother. He's got two more just like it."
"Gotta feel for the guys using their own cars," Rick said.
"Yeah, but that ain't gonna stop me from effing them up."
"Hey, if we wanted to play nice, we'd be on a racing strip, right?"
"Exactly."
Bumblebee didn't like the sound of any of that. He knew the rules of street racing could vary, but this sounded more like it was going to be a demolition derby than a race. Bee was a lot sturdier than any of the other cars here by virtue of being a Cybertronian, but he still didn't especially want to test his mettle (or his metal!) against a bunch of teenagers working out their emotional problems by trying to kill each other in an illegal street race. He loved to race, but he knew instinctively that this wasn't about racing, this was about breaking expensive things... for what? To make a point? What kind of point could possibly be made by smashing other people's cars up? Or even smashing your own?
Less than thirty minutes later, all the other drivers had showed up. Bumblebee noticed they all seemed to be about the same age, a bunch of teenagers who'd organized this, probably via the internet. No way were they all from the same school, especially not if you factored in the sheer size of the audience.
At the command of a girl carrying a bullhorn, the drivers got into their vehicles and maneuvered into place behind the makeshift starting line. The girl explained the layout of the track, and how many laps there would be, and reminded them all that anything went, so long as that anything was directed at a driver in a vehicle that was still functioning. She also mentioned surprises laid out on the course.
"Now," she concluded loudly and with enthusiasm, "Let's light it up! To the survivors goes the right to participate in the night race!"
Bumblebee didn't like the sound of that either, but he didn't have time to process all of the information before another girl stepped out into the road carrying a flag.
"Fina thinks you're something special," Rick whispered to Bumblebee, "So prove it."
The girl in the road stood at the exact center of the line of vehicles, seeming to smile for each driver before she dropped the flag at the same time as some uncounted number of people blew air-horns. Caught in the front row, Bumblebee had cars on either side and one behind. Even had Rick not been at the helm, he couldn't have stayed where he was without causing an accident.
The roar of engines was deafening, but the cluster rapidly spread out as they left the starting line. Not only did the road broaden out, but some drivers simply couldn't keep up. Many of the cars had been modified to improve their racing ability, and the ones that hadn't quickly fell behind.
The pushing and shoving started almost immediately, as aggressive drivers tried to narrow the competition by damaging other vehicles with their own and hoping to shatter their opponent's nerves in the process. Bumblebee wasn't part of that, Rick driving him rapidly to the front of the pack.
But as they went into the first turn, Bumblebee was caught on the left side by a bright flash. Rick jerked the wheel, and Bumblebee obeyed before he processed what had happened. Someone had triggered a series of flares attached to the top of the concrete barrier. It had acted as intended, startling the driver into avoiding it and giving other drivers opportunity to catch up.
However, he first car to try hit a small patch of black ice and slid hopelessly sideways, the front of it clipping Bumblebee's back fender. Metal squealed and tore and Bumblebee wobbled on the road. Rick fought to keep him from spinning out, but he still wound up slightly angled on the road. Though they hadn't stopped, it had slowed them down, and a green sports car sped past them a little too close, smashing into Bee's front fender. Straight on the road again, Rick hit the accelerator, just in time to avoid being rear-ended. Bumblebee had never seen humans drive like this before, and he knew why. This was absolutely insane and extremely dangerous and there was no good reason to do it. Especially not on ice.
In the mirror, Bumblebee could see cars behind them swing wildly around the vehicle that had slid on the ice, some of them hitting what was left of the ice in the process. One car slammed front first into the side of the halted vehicle, sending it skidding sideways along the road for several yards.
But the worst of the chaos was behind them. Though some other cars managed to get past them before Bumblebee hit his stride again, there was more black ice, more distracting flares and more overcompensation on the part of various drivers. Soon there were only three cars ahead.
"Come on!" Rick was probably just speaking to himself, but it seemed like he was addressing Bee, "I will not be left behind. Not again! Go!"
They were on a straight piece of the road, but quickly running out of pavement. A long straight stretch was just dirt, though someone had taken the trouble to clear the snow off to the sides of it. Exposed to the sunlight, the ice on the dirt had melted slightly, then been frozen over by the cold air, making it hard and slick. Bee saw the hazard coming, but Rick was focused on catching up to the other cars.
All Bee could do was cut power, which caused him to slow down as the cars ahead hit the ice. They slid forward, then one spun sideways only to have the car behind it slam into it and keep on going. The third vehicle weaved like a drunken skater as the driver tried to keep control, before finally skidding into the other two entangled vehicles. Rick still had the accelerator pressed to the floor, and would have plowed hard into the mess had Bee been listening to him. Two cars which had been hot on their tail passed them, hit the ice and smashed into the three car pile up.
One car flipped onto its top when it hit where the asphalt started again, and spun helplessly. Another car, driven off the road, hit a pole and began to smoke. The rest of them pushed, shoved and slid their way apart and back onto the course. By the time Bee hit the ice, it had been pretty chopped up by the other cars, though he still refused to acknowledge Rick's flooring it until they reached the other side.
"Move it, you piece of junk!" Rick smacked the wheel impatiently as Bee's front tires bit into the asphalt, slipped and then found purchase enough to pull his back tires out of the deepening slush.
Bumblebee felt he could do without the commentary. He also would have appreciated not having Rick at the helm. Rick was the worst driver Bumblebee could imagine; it was almost as if he was trying to get himself killed. Considering the speeds and the number of cars involved, he would have done just that had he hit the iced dirt at the speed he'd asked for. He'd have wound up between the smoking car and the pole, or else the flipped car would have landed right on top of him and possibly crushed him.
Bumblebee had almost no input in how he drove, he could not turn, accelerate or break on his own. All he could do was ignore a turn, or not turn as tightly as he was asked, refuse to accelerate or at least not accelerate as fully, or be slow in breaking. He could refuse to obey, but he could do nothing himself. It was precious little control when your driver was as suicidally aggressive as Rick seemed to be. What was the boy trying to prove anyway? What were any of these people trying to prove?
Bumblebee had done things far more dangerous than this, but that was because he was a soldier and it was war. At the time, he had been fighting for his world and his comrades. To participate in this just for sport was complete madness. Racing, he understood. But this wasn't racing.
They were in the fifth spot by the end of the first lap, having narrowly avoided several other pileups. Many of the participating vehicles were already looking pretty ragged, one even had half its rear bumper dragging on the ground and spitting up sparks. Bumblebee knew Rick had to have noticed that Bee was only intermittently responding to cues he was given, and seldom responding perfectly. But he hadn't spoken in awhile, except to curse whenever another car passed them.
Bumblebee's competitive nature drove him to fight for first, but he was more concerned with making it out of this alive, and having Rick come out the same way. He remembered a time when he would have been reckless enough to take every risk this race demanded of the victor, but that was long ago, on another world. He would take no gamble with a human's life if he didn't have to.
"Hey guys, I think I found something!" Raf said excitedly.
Arcee, Bulkhead and Ratchet looked up as Raf sent the video link so that it would show up on the large monitor instead of his comparatively tiny laptop screen. On the screen appeared shaky camera footage of what appeared to be a car race being held on the street. Snow was piled on either side of the course, and the cars were almost beyond the camera's sight when the Autobots started watching. The cars were coming closer however, and it was soon evident that one of the badly scuffed, frosted and muddy vehicles was a yellow and black Urbana 500.
Arcee's brow furrowed, and it was clear the other two were also somewhat skeptical.
"What would Bee be doing in a race like this?" Arcee asked.
"All I know is that I found it on a website. I was supposed to have a password to get to the video, but I broke in. I can't seem to find the location on the website, but this is a live stream."
He broke off as a black car slammed into the side of the yellow and black Urbana, trying to force the smaller vehicle off the road and into the deep snow. Not just deep snow. Hidden in the snow was a concrete barrier, because they were coming up on a bridge. Sparks flew as the Urbana clung to the road, refusing to be shoved off. Its left side hit the concrete barrier and it was pinned between that and the black car, which continued to pressure it. Other cars crowded in behind, so slowing down was not an option unless they moved, which they seemed disinclined to do.
"That impact would have crumpled an ordinary Earth vehicle," Ratchet observed.
"Then it's gotta be Bumblebee," Bulkhead said.
It was then that the Urbana began to fight for the lead. Evidently, car or driver or both had had just about enough of this. The yellow car gained inches on the black car, despite being pinned on two sides. A red car swung by on the other side of the black car. Evidently the black car's driver realized they were sacrificing too much speed and gaining nothing in pinning the Urbana, because they suddenly pulled away, giving the yellow car freedom to move off the railing.
With the pack of cars hot on its tail, the only place the yellow car could go was forward. And go forward it did, accelerating at a phenomenal rate to overtake first the black car, and then coming up behind the red as if the latter were stalled out. It was all the confirmation they needed, even though the vehicles were too far away from the camera to show many of the details. No Urbana could move like the yellow car did when it passed the red.
"We must find out where this race is taking place," Optimus spoke, having come in unnoticed by the others, "And find out why our Scout is participating in it."
As he spoke, the yellow car hit something slick on the road. It wobbled without losing control, but slowed down sufficiently for the red car to catch up. The red's front came even with the back fender of the Urbana. And then the driver of the red car turned the wheel sharply. The red car slammed into the side of the Urbana and the squeal of shearing metal could be heard even above the gasp of the crowd. The black car smashed into the red of the slowing red car, and the combined impact sent the hind tires of the Urbana right off into the snow. Yet another car smashed head-on into the left side of the Urbana.
Raf saw the Autobots wince out of the corner of his eye, and he knew it was a bad collision, a lot for even an Autobot to take. Another car, sliding helplessly on the ice, rode up the back of the car which had slammed into Bumblebee's side. It crashed down on top of Bee. Instead of admitting defeat, the car's driver floored it, and the tires spun in the air. The vehicle shifted, but not evenly. It crashed down onto the front right fender and then flipped onto its back into the deep snow drift.
Bumblebee had evidently had enough, and accelerated out of the pileup. When he flashed close to the camera, it was evident his paint was badly scraped, and he was sporting some nasty looking dents. It was also clear that there was a human behind the wheel.
"We need to find who that kid is," Arcee said angrily as Raf captured a still shot of the driver's face, which was indistinct because of the sheer speed of his vehicle and shakiness of the mediocre camera, "If we find out where he lives, we find Bumblebee."