Radio Silence

Barricade slammed on his brakes as the object fell in front of him.

“What was that?” Jennifer said, peering around as he carefully skirted it.

“Nothing,” he said, but his voice was troubled. “We’re almost there.”

She bolted upright in the seat. “Oh my god. I know that sound.” She remembered how the jet had screamed in pain when Max had reattached his leg. That same horrible combination of high and low sounds. “Go faster, dammit!”

“Tires don’t grip as well on sand,” Barricade snapped. Then he stopped. “Get out.” He had transformed to his robot mode before she could move, and snatched her up under one arm, his feet sliding against the slippery sand, but making better time. She bounced in his grasp, finally managing to brace herself against what was the front of his hood and a door fairing. There.

Starscream was tied, stretched out, and another bot knelt by him. Even from here, Jennifer could recognize the shudder and then blankness of an overload. The jet howled.

“Might have to drop you hard,” Barricade said, readying a gun. He fired a warning shot. The bot whirled around, his eyes a hard blue glare.

“Do it,” Jennifer said. The other bot’s facial expression terrified her. And Starscream was still writhing on the ground, even though his screams had died down to panting whimpers.

She felt Barricade’s arm loosen, and she landed on the sand, roughly. He did…something with his hand, and it was no longer a hand, but some sort of spinning blade, which he drove directly at the other bot’s face. The bot backhanded him, hard. Barricade sprawled. Jennifer ran over to the jet. “What can I do?” she begged.

“Jennifer?” The jet’s voice was weak, and his eyes seemed dimmer, as if he couldn’t see her clearly. “I don’t want—don’t see me like this.”

Okay, she thought. This is where you become either the pathetic bitch you hate in the movies who cries helplessly and waits for someone else to fix shit, or you do something. And be the obnoxious bitch who gets things done. “Stay right here,” she said, and felt impossibly stupid instantaneously. Of course he had to stay there. He had no choice. So much for the start along the ‘getting things done.’

Ironhide howled, as Barricade swung his blade weapon across his knees. The police car rolled to his feet. Retreating. Not retreating—trying to get Ironhide away from the jet. When the bot faltered, Barricade taunted him. “Heard you,” he said. “Don’t like xenos, huh? Kinda ugly isn’t it? Not the Autobot way. Thought you morons were all about peace and harmony and shit.”

“You!” Ironhide lunged at him. “I saw you and your filthy human. Saw you, you disgusting freaks.”

“Really? When? I do like an audience.” He ducked a vicious kick by the Autobot.

Jennifer ran to where Starscream’s arms were bound. Too tight. She ran to where they were attached to a power transmission tower. What was she thinking? Her stupid human hands were too weak to deal with steel cable. But…

“Barricade,” she called out, gesturing at the stretch of cable. He glanced over, getting a wallop on the back of his head for his distraction. But he got her hint. He bolted toward where she stood. She ran down the jet’s other side, and froze. She saw the torn connector cables, one leaking blue energon in a puddle in the sand. Her hands clapped over her mouth. What had he done? What had that horrible robot done?

Ironhide tackled Barricade as he ran, but it was enough. Barricade’s outstretched arms, ending with his blades, sliced through the cables binding the jet’s arms. Starscream felt the sudden slackness, and forced himself to sit up, turning to face Ironhide. Seated, he was almost as tall as the Autobot standing.

“Jennifer,” he said, warningly, his eyes locked on Ironhide. He cycled up his chain gun. “I do not wish you to see this.”

“No,” she said, her voice hard. “He deserves it.”