Of Man and Metal (Transformers Prime)

Chapter 7

I shouldn't have pushed Hillary like that. She probably hated me now. And wasn't I supposed to be pretending I was on board with everything? Okay, I would from now on. That evening, after the noise of machinery finally died down and I tried to drift off into an unpleasant sleep, I told myself I would be a whole different person the next morning. I would be back to the Shilo so eager to get his legs back, he was willing to jump headfirst into an illegal military operation he had no prior knowledge of.

...

I startled awake when I heard the loud grating of metal against concrete. It was dark in the hangar. Thump. Thump... Thump. Then there was a whirr of servos and gears, much like my metal legs, or Hillary's robotic arm, but on a much larger, louder scale.

I threw the scratchy blanket off of me and rose, heading toward the curtain that curtailed my room from the rest of the hangar. I moved them apart as I went, leaving the group of curtained cubicles. I could feel the metal suit under me - I must have gone to sleep with it on - and took care to keep my footsteps quiet against the ground.

When I made it to the open part of the hangar, it was empty. Even the soldiers usually standing guard in their swat-gear were uncharacteristically absent. As unnerving as those guys were, with their eyes covered by those creepy black goggles, it was strange for them to be gone all of a sudden. I inched forward, looking around the open space of the hangar. It was eerily quiet, and the metallic thumping that woke me up was gone. I could only hear the sound of my own breathing as I forced myself to suck in the warm Nevada air slower and slower, telling myself I was just imagining things. I should head back to bed before I got caught.

Across the hangar, the large metal scaffolding still held the giant robot, its different parts in mixed stages of completion. It was a large, intimidating figure nearly as tall as the military hangar. I could even see what looked like a weapon barrel being installed on its arm. But at the same time, it was a lifeless husk. Surely it was meant for some grand design I was not aware of, but after staring into its dark optics for a minute or two, I wasn't sure I wanted to know.

I turned back towards the curtained rooms and took two steps forward when suddenly bullets ripped through the air, tearing through the curtains. I ducked with my hands protecting my head, but nothing hit me. They weren't aiming at me. A piercing, grating screech of metal came from behind. I turned, peaking under my arm, and saw a giant metal foot.

It sure was a good thing that I'd already had the chance to get used to these metal legs, because now I was using them as I ran for my life, through the gunfire and whirs and crashes of machinery, out the hangar, and into the maze of buildings that comprised the rest of the base. My heart was pounding faster than my legs against the sand. I wove behind a dumpster and around the edge of a temporary building, pressed against the rough, rusting sheet metal wall as I tried to catch my breath.

What was that thing?

To my left, an explosion threw bits of shrapnel through the air. Some of it clambered just past the building I was hiding behind, coming to rest just a few feet away. Whatever that robot was, it sure was angry at MECH for whatever reason. It could probably tear this entire place to bits.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

I eyed a couple of tactical trucks on my right. They were relatively out in the open, but those vehicles might just provide the escape I needed. I could drive far away from here and then get my bearings. I ran for them.

My legs were screaming. I looked down at them, and there was no longer a metal suit covering my legs. There were no metal nodules sticking out of my bones. It was just my plain, ordinary, useless legs. But I had to keep going. I had to run.