[Author's Note: A Halloween fic. =D Also used for 31_days prompt "What Goes Bump In The Night"]
Tracks walked further into the clearing, looking around. Narrow rocks about the depth of car trunks littered the far end of the clearing, plastered with leaves, most sticking up out of the ground and others lying flat. As he moved closer, he saw that they were car trunks. The ones laying flat were only the back part of the car. "What is this?" he murmured. "A vehicle graveyard off the side of the human one?" No reply came since the errant spirits were still no where to be seen. He frowned angrily. They could hide easily enough and be right in front of him. He moved away from the cars, looking for some other clue why he had been lead here.
Presently he heard the distinct chk-chk-chack of a Transformer starting to switch modes. His gaze darted around. Nothing had come up on his radar.
He was the only one there.
There hadn't been another Transformer within a hundred miles of this area the last he had checked.
While he couldn't dismiss the possibility a Decepticon could have dropped in, he knew he would have been attacked by now. A lone Autobot in the woods would be too tempting a target.
The wind blew. A chill shot up through him...as clawed fingers dug into his leg. He yelped and jerked away but a pair of hands grabbed for his other foot. The problem was they were not human hands. They were huge, like a Transformer's.
And they were made of corroded and rusted metal.
Tracks attempted to yank free again, succeeding in escaping the single hand. It flailed about, reaching again. He ignored it and pried at one, then the other of those holding his foot. He managed to loosen them just enough then he scrambled toward the cars, optics on the ground for any more surprises. "What is going on here?! There can't possibly be other Transformers out here! I think I would have been told if someone from the Ark came out here and went MIA! And if this is the Decepticons, it's pretty elaborate for just one lone Autobot." The hands were all flailing now. He stared, backing up further until he bumped into one of the standing car ends. He glanced over his shoulder at it, noting the rusted out corner. He was unable to suppress a grimace. Then he noticed the style of the taillight placement and the form of the trunk itself.
It was a Corvette. He didn't have time to figure out what year or model, but the rear was distinct enough. An odd feeling gripped him and he shuffled past it to the next one. Also a Corvette. He checked a third and fourth.
Someone had a collection. And he, the transforming Corvette, had been in the wrong place at the very much wrong time. He wondered if it was possible the ghosts had known about him all along and had used Raoul and Talia to lure him here. A booming sound came from behind him and he turned in time to see dirt flying as the owners of the hands came shooting out of the ground. They were no Transformers, for their limbs floated separate from their bodies. They were just cobbled together, not actual robotic beings. Time and rust had claimed the rest of them, too. Leering heads made of mishmash engine parts groaned at him, their clawed hands reaching. Rational thought was starting to flee again. How was he going to get out of this?
He looked around at the scattered, ruined 'Vettes, shuddered, then looked at the approaching monsters. He narrowed his optics. "Sorry, chums, but I do not fancy spending the rest of existence buried out here. I am much too good-looking to be forgotten in the woods." He armed his dual incendiary missiles and prayed he wouldn't start a forest fire, then braced himself for the recoil.
He never got that far. Another rusted creature leapt from behind and tackled him to the ground before the missiles released. He kicked at it, loosening its grip enough so he could turn and push it back with his hands. Corroded metal crumbled beneath his fingers, sludge-like oil spattering his chest and face. He spat it out, sickened. The creature raked its claws over his arms. Tracks kicked again. The creature started to come apart but he didn't have time to get up. The other two were now upon him. They dodged his kicks and punches by separating at what would have been the point of impact. Due to this trick they soon had his arms held in the clutches of one, the other pinning his legs down. He figured he could still fire the missiles, though, and the one holding his arms was directly in line for it.
Tracks hoped that Raoul and Talia had stayed on the ridge. They would probably see the explosion from there. He fired one missile.
The rusted monster squealed as the impact threw it backward. Tracks gasped, fearing his arms would be yanked off their rotators. But they remained in place while the monster went flying. Its main body smashed into a tree while its limbs just kept going. Tracks whipped a fist toward the other one, not stopping to ponder why the missile hadn't exactly exploded. But he was glad to still have his own head since the range had been far too close. The second creature snarled and swiped at him, barely missing his face. He was about to use his remaining missile on it when the third monster reappeared. Tracks wondered again how effective the blacklight beam gun would be.
He didn't have time to take it out. The first monster also returned, howling something fierce. A corroded hand grasped his chin, the fingers digging into the pliable metal. He was unable to move his head away. A cry escaped him. He hoped he would at least get some answers before he was turned into scrap...or whatever it was they planned to do to him. Unlike the other cars it was possible for him to be buried alive.
"WHO ARE YOU?! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?!"
The young woman materialized out of the head of the monster holding his chin. She smiled down at him. "All our other toys are broken."
"And whose fault is that?! You should have tried parking them correctly!"
Fury flashed across her face. "Be quiet."
The cold seeped into him again, stilling his last struggles and freezing up his vocalizer. Anger gripped him as much as fear. After everything else he had been through it was ridiculous that he was to meet his end at the mercy of these inexplicable beings. The three drew away, the second and third clattering to the ground with their phantoms hovering above, the young man from before as well as another, slightly older-looking yet identically dressed male with dark hair. For the first time Tracks noticed there was a symbol above the letter. It matched the one on the girl's pendant. It was the paired flag emblem of a Corvette.
He accessed his interior speaker and found it was in his control. It would be muffled, but it would get the point across. "What are you, serial Corvette stalkers? A bunch of car thieves, hmm? I've dealt with that type before, and believe me, it did not end well for them. And you have chosen the wrong Corvette to steal."
The lot of them looked surprised he could still talk. The young woman floated out of her construct -- sending it rattling to the ground -- and hovered before his face. She scowled, raising her hand before her. Tracks felt himself moving up to stand, the ghost drifting along to remain directly in front of him. He tested his relays. There seemed to be a way to bypass the cold sections. He focused on it and in a moment had his blacklight gun in hand. He fired, leaping back at the same time. He misjudged, however, and went stumbling over a car carcass. This was lucky for a second later the rusted remains of one of the monsters came flying toward his location. He ducked again as it came sailing back then he scrambled across the entire length of buried cars.
"I...am not...just some...mechanical...puppet," he panted, glaring toward his assailants. Not surprisingly the blacklight beam had done little. It clung to a tree behind the ghosts where it would uselessly remain until it faded out on its own.
It did, however, seem to have their attention. The third spirit was agape. "He casts darkness."
The blond-haired one had that cheerful grin again. "I told you it was a possessed car! He's perfect!"
Tracks slapped his gun against his palm. "Has it occurred to you that I might want to continue my own "haunting" where I please?"
The young woman's eyes blazed. "You came to our spot. You don't get to."
"You led me here! ... Is this whole cemetery your 'spot'?!"
She smirked. "Our spot is wherever we feel like being at the moment."
Tracks made his optics flare brightly. "Then perhaps I should show you what I am truly capable of!" He backed away until he had enough space free of cars and a view of the most lengthy path the clearing offered. Then he transformed and flipped his wings out. He gunned his engine and routed extra power to his subsonic flight generator, firing it up to take off providing he got enough clearance. The young woman's eyes flashed again and she waved both hands. Rusted bits came flying at him. He gunned his engine again in defiance and drove forward. The assault was slowing him down. Then hands grasped his rear fender, stopping him cold. Literally, of course. His wheels spun in the leaves.
Now he was trapped in vehicle form, with the three monsters taking humanoid shape again and closing in once more. He wracked his processor for another idea. Transforming would deny him the flight that would get him away faster, but he could do nothing else this way. So he switched to robot mode in hopes even that would throw off the monsters for a few seconds. He kicked outward as his lower half spun around, knocking away one of the creatures and catching the leg of another. This time the limb crumbled to dust from impact. Not much, but it was one less projectile.
The fight was short and futile. Tracks was soon surrounded again with little to show for the whole thing except another four crumbled pieces. The one monster with two intact arms had one hooked around his neck, its other arm coiled around his gun hand.
A horn honked from somewhere outside the clearing just before a dark green boat of a vehicle shot right through a tree to his left. It sailed right into the monster holding Tracks, slamming into him as well. He fell to the side with an "Oof!" while the car dropped straight to the ground. It was saved by its shocks and kept rolling as the driver backed it away. "Go, Tracks! NOW!"
It was Raoul's voice. Tracks gaped. The ghostly woman screamed in outrage. The monster that had been hit lay in a heap. Without stopping to think Tracks raced for the tree Raoul had driven through, his friend driving at his heels. The tree was an illusion. He didn't know how it had fooled him. He let Raoul get ahead of him then he transformed, racing directly behind to keep to the correct path out.
They eventually came to another gate, this one polished and the area tidy. It was like being in another world. But they didn't stop until they were ten blocks away and firmly back in civilization. By now the Halloween parties had ended and all was quiet and dark save for a few festive lights here and there. They pulled into an empty parking lot outside a grocery store. Not caring if anyone saw, Tracks transformed, although not without an agonized cry. That last bit of damage had effected his frame. He rested on his hands and knees while Raoul and Talia climbed out of the car, both white as sheets. "Y-you okay, man?" Raoul placed his hand on Tracks' forearm. "I'm sorry I--"
"Forget it. It got me out of there. And I am not asking where you procured the car from."
Talia went right ahead and hugged Tracks' wrist. "What just happened?"
Tracks shook his head. "I have no idea. Ghosts are beyond me, but I believe those are some extremely unrestful car enthusiasts."
Raoul studied one of the scratches on Tracks' arm. "They could've killed you..."
The 'Vette grimaced. "I don't doubt it. But let us not dwell on it. I assume we have a little bit of work to do before we end this night."
~*~
With the borrowed car repaired and returned, the three went back to the party Raoul and Talia had started out at, waking up the friend to let them in for the remainder of the night. No questions were asked; there had indeed been a dare involved and one look at the condition of the two had the guilt-ridden host offering them his own bedroom. Tracks accepted that he had to park in the street, too sore to care much. Being plastered in toilet paper would have been preferable to this.
Around noon Raoul and Talia emerged, neither appearing rested but not wanting to overstay their welcome even though their host was calling out apologies as they reached the bottom of the steps. Daylight revealed Tracks to be an utter wreck. "Holy geez!" came a cry from the house's doorway. "Your car! Oh, Raoul, I -- I--"
"We knew about it, Bobby" Raoul said. "I know, it was too dark to see it when we got in last night..."
"Did those vandals get it? Aw, man, I'm sorry. Look, you want to use my card at the shop? I thought it would be safe around here."
Raoul considered the offer if just to make sure Tracks would be able to make it home where the real problems could be fixed out of public view. Then he gave pause. "What vandals?"
"It's in the papers. Some nutters have done serial vandalism on Corvettes." He jogged up the steps, went back inside, and returned with that morning's paper. He held up the front page. It had a photo of the street outside that one particular cemetery gate. Several trees were laying in the road and there was a gold Corvette sitting on its roof sideways across the street. Looks were deceiving, however. Closer examination of the photo showed the car was pitted with rust. "At least that one ain't somebody's new car. They must've pulled it out of a junk yard somewhere. But the police think it's a calling card of some kind. I can't imagine why anyone would do it."
"M-Mind if I keep this?" Raoul asked with his eyes glued to the photo.
"Please. If there's anything else?"
"I might want to take mine by the shop just to see if I can drive it home. I, heh, do have the right paint and everything, you know?" Raoul winked, trying to shake off a sudden case of chills.
"You got it."
~*~
While Bobby's mechanic was looking over Tracks, Talia and Raoul read the article. They kept going back to the photo. There were the usual pedestrian rubberneckers on the sidewalks, quite a few in costumes. In the far right corner of the photo were two young men in letter jackets and a young woman in a blue dress.
(c) 2006 S. Loweck. This work may not be copied, distributed, or reprinted without the author's permission. Transformers, Autobots, Decepticons, Tracks, and Raoul belong to Hasbro and Takara. Talia belongs to the author.