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A Series of Events	By : zypherion Category: Transformers > G1 > Het - M/F Views: 1659 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers,nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. I do own copyrights to all OCs in this fic.

Chapter List
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I remember that first ride home inside her; the smell of old, musty car strong inside her. The feel of her bench seat under me, how the springs held me up despite the condition of the fabric that covered them. The fabric head liner drooped in places, one corner completely ripped from the roof and drooping there with frazzled edges. She started, just barely; she struggled to stay running along the shoulder of the highway. The engine dying multiple times as my Father muttered curses under his breath. My Mother got impatient with it, finally deciding to haul us out of the car and into the van to take us home. I don't recall when my Father finally rolled into the driveway and backed her into a spot next to the house, but it was quite a space of time. She wouldn't move again for several years as my Father attempting to fix her. Her paint job was a faded green and black with splotches of primer black. That grill of hers gave her a sort of sad expression, like she knew how depressing her state had become since she was built. I had wanted her for myself when I turned 16, to drive to school of course. But it was not meant to be as that dream was shattered by the divorce and the eventual disappearance of that grand old gal who deserved so much better. My Father changed the story at least twice as to what happened to her. The first one was he had sold her. The second was she had gone to a garage and was stolen. The third was she had gone to a garage and a fire had gutted her.

It is decades later since I last saw her, I had thought about her now and again; it always made me tear up in sadness. I guess it is silly to be emotionally attached to a cold steel object like a car. But here I am, still tearing up about how things could have been and always wondering what the true story was behind her disappearance. I figured that I would never see her again. That truly she had been lost to me by the cruelty of humanity, whether it was by fire or being stolen and possibly stripped for parts. Still though, it was depressing, she had deserved a better fate.

I have never been to a junkyard in my life, never had the inclination. There is just so much sadness there when you think about it. Cars that have literally been driven until the motor died or taken on a drive that they would never recover from; the life or lives that had been within those cars when they gave out or crashed was an unknown variable… a mystery to anyone who had not been there as to what happened in the aftermath.

Driving past one of the bigger junkyards in the area had me remembering all the vehicles my family had owned over the years. At least the ones I could remember with any fondness. Usually you see tow trucks taking crashed and long since undrivable vehicles into a junkyard. But in the rapidly dwindling light of the sunset I could clearly see that a white and blue car carrier was coming out of the junkyard, burdened down with junkers that had not seen the car crusher. This struck me as odd that a car carrier was taking junkers out... very unusual indeed. I slowed down; just out of curiosity and the fact it had swung into my driving path to get out of the junkyard. My eyes looked at the autos the car carrier happened to be hauling. First thing that was unusual about this was the car carrier itself was strikingly clean. Not only that, I have never in my life seen a car carrier who's carrier section was built like this one's was, let alone the fact of how it was painted. The second thing was the cars that were loaded up, all of them were classics and looked as if they had not seen a crash. What had me hit the brakes hard though… had me turning full around in my seat to stare… was the car that had been loaded last on the upper tier. I didn't even think about my next actions, despite the fact there were a few cars following the carrier out of the junkyard. I just cranked my steering wheel hard to the left and floored the gas pedal, sending my Chevy into a shuttering squeal of rubber and smoke… fish tailing slightly until I straightened out. My knuckles whitened as my grip tightened against the steering wheel, my eyes focused on the carrier ahead of me as it gained speed.

I knew, deep down in my heart, that that top tier car… the last one that was loaded… was her. It had to be her; the paint job was exactly as I remembered it. I had to be sure though… had to get close and see if the license plate was there. But then something weird happened. The cars following the car carrier came up on either side of me, behind and in front of me. They boxed me in, huddled so close to my Chevy that a wrong move on their part or my own would us exchanging paint and gaining scratches, dents, or worse. My heart thudded hard in my chest; it nearly felt like it was in my throat it was pumping so hard. Tears were streaming down my face, my vision blurred by the tears. Those cars wouldn't let me get any closer and kept me in that box formation until that car carrier was nothing more than a speck and then fully gone from my sight. All the while I was swearing such a stream of sobbed obscenities that it would have made a hardened military man blush to hear it. The car to my right and left peeled off, joining the one ahead of me. The one behind me passed to my right to join the rest. They were keeping me back still, even as I drove. Then, one by one, they sped away ahead of me. The last one, the one I didn't think would cause my Chevy much of an issue at all in the speed or maneuverability department... the yellow VW Bug… it seemed content to play 'block the fat chick off at any opportunity' for quite awhile longer. By then I had cried myself dry, my voice quite hoarse and raw from sobbing, cussing, and screaming. I had rode an emotional roller coaster and felt sick to my stomach.

I was vaguely aware that time had passed, as well as distance. The area that the VW and I were driving in was not one I had driven in before. The city was long past; having given way to forest that was a mix of second and third growth forest. If not for the highway sign announcing where I was, I probably would have not believed the distance I had covered. But there it was as the VW went around a sharp corner, 'Mt. Saint Helens Viewpoint 10 miles'. When I looked away from the sign and went around the same corner, the VW seemed to have vanished. The road ahead was empty of any traffic. I hit the brakes hard for the second time in who knows how many hours, looking up and down this lonesome section of roadway… searching for brake lights in the forest.

Then I saw it briefly, a flash of red. I cranked the automatic into reverse and backed up. Hit the brakes, then cranked hard to the left, shifting into drive and easing on the pedal. My Chevy turned into a well concealed dirt road. I stopped for a moment, just off the paved roadway now, looking for another flash of red. There was one after awhile, quite a distance away. I eased on the pedal and began to drive down the dirt road which had obviously seen an odd amount of heavy traffic by the look of it… or at least it appeared well traveled from the light of my head lamps and the slight rocking sensation it gave my Chevy as the tires traveled over grooves or into slight pot holes. Every now and again I'd see a flash of red from brakes a good distance ahead of me; perhaps a half mile or more. I wasn't sure how long I drove or how far. But the forest had suddenly given way to total desolation with very young trees and shrubbery growing up alongside of the dirt road. I was officially in the Mt Saint Helens outmost reaches of her eruption blast zone. The moon was full and peeking out from the clouds, casting an eerie light on the devastation that had life reestablishing itself; it also highlighted the mountain itself and the gaping maw of a hole left behind from her 1984 eruption. I stopped a moment, just to behold the effect of the moonlight on this surreal but oh so real landscape. A flicker of red drew me out of the spell of it; it was even more distant now. I watched it a moment, then it disappeared. I continued to drive along the road, taking it easy since it was such a rough road and I certainly didn't want to hit any animals that happened to be walking around out here.

The road suddenly seemed to end at a sharp rise of ground just a half mile or so from my current location, that is when I turned off my head lamps. Pulling my car off to the side until it was in a safe spot, partially hidden by the shrubbery and tall grass. I turned off my car; keys slipped into my jeans pocket as I stepped out and listened. Other than the faint sound of owls hooting or coyotes yipping plus a lone commercial airliner flying overhead, there wasn't much to hear. I sighed and sat on the fender of my car a moment, taking a moment to clean my glasses on my shirt. As the airliner moved off into the distance, is when I heard a car engine revving and tires traveling over the dirt road behind me. I moved some tall grass that I had driven over back into place and ducked into the bushes, hoping my car was far enough off the road and well hidden enough in the shrubs and grass not to be spotted. A few minutes later, an ambulance rolled past where I crouched down. I watched it curiously, wondering why on Earth there would be an ambulance out here where there was no human habitation. It continued down the road without slowing at all, driving up to that sharp rise and then into it. I blinked, stared, not believing my eyes. I reminded me slightly of the old Batman TV show where he drove out of what looked like a hillside with shrubs and grass that trailed over what was a well disguised opening to his lair. There was only one way to ascertain what I saw happen to that ambulance, and that was to check it out for myself.

I walked the half mile or so in the shrubbery and tall grass, just in case another vehicle happened to come down the road in either direction. I picked up a long stick on the way, using it to feel for anything I would trip upon as I trekked toward that rise. Finally I made it, stopping a fair distance from where I saw that ambulance go in. I listened as I paused there, hearing faint echoes of voices and footsteps. The language didn't sound like English. The footsteps seemed oddly metallic. Making sure I heard no engines running, I felt my way along the dirt that made up the rise with the stick until it met no resistance.

I chucked the stick off into the bushes, pressing a hand into what looked like dirt to find nothing on the other side. There was no sensation to it, which I was thankful for since I half expected to be electrocuted. Then I froze as I heard shouts and running footsteps that got louder as they came toward me. I plastered myself against the rise next to the entrance; glad I had worn all black so I blended in with the darkness of the evening. Several figures ran out of the rise and onto the dirt roadway. The moonlight striking their metallic bodies and the weapons in their hands. I slid myself behind a shrub, crouching behind it, peering through the leaves at those figures as they checked the area. They weren't looking down at all, but instead up into the skies as well as at their own level. My heart was thudding hard again, my mouth and tongue were both dry. The figures didn't range out too far, their tones sounding unamused, their language a series of metallic whirrs, clicks, clacks, trills, rumbles, revs, and so on. When they turned back to the rise, I huddled down even more, eyes toward the ground. Listening to them walk past me… the footfalls becoming metallic once they breeched the rise. All of them clear, I stood up shakily and approached the edge of the opening, poking my head in just enough to see within. There was some light inside in what appeared to be a hallway. I could see their backs as they turned a corner and disappeared. I withdrew my head, then walked away. If she was in there, she was in the best hands I could ever dream or fantasize of her being in and it made me cry in joy as I walked back to my car. Once at my car, opening my door, I gazed off toward that rise, whispering. "Be safe Betty Joe, and goodbye." I slipped into my car, closing my door and buckling up. I took a moment longer to gaze off to that rise, then started the Chevy up. I put her into drive, cranked the steering wheel hard and slowly pulled out of the hiding spot. Once on the dirt road, I didn't bother looking back, I remained focused on my driving.

Two figures appeared out of cloak, talking in hushed tones. They had seen the human walk away from the rise to her car, had overheard what she said. A report had to be made. One headed toward the rise to do so. The other shifted form and took to the dirt road to follow the blue Chevy.

When I got home it was past midnight. I was tired from the long drive, mouth dry from lack of fluids thanks to my crying my eyes out. It hurt to get out of the Chevy and walk to the door since I was so stiff, but I was soon inside and didn't even bother to undress as I slipped off my glasses to set them down on the nightstand before I flopped onto my bed. I took a moment to sip down a good amount of water from the water bottle on the night stand and placed it back. Then I laid down and I closed my eyes.

A vehicle stopped in the driveway some minutes later, lights off, engine silenced. He radioed in his position and waited for what he should do next. A minute later he got his orders.

Hours later another vehicle joined him, together they transformed and approached the home, settling themselves off to one side of it. There they would listen, wait, and observe.

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A Series of Events