EVERYDAY PEOPLE
PART 1
By Philip N. Zeman
Optimus Prime took stock of the situation. He and his team had been tracking Megatron and the Decepticons for several days now. Megatron had gotten some inside information about a new hydroelectric generator that worked more efficiently and effectively than anything humans had developed before. It was a prototype and still was not perfected. Yet even at a diminished capacity, the potential for such a device was immeasurable.
Or, at least, that's what Megatron thought. Unbeknownst to him, the story of such a device was completely fabricated, a ruse developed by the Autobots to flush out their enemies. Optimus was ready to dispatch his squadron to the research facility to trap Megatron.
Except that Optimus hadn't given Megatron enough credit. Instead of attacking the research facility with all of his troops, Megatron sent a portion of them to a nearby city. There was nothing of interest that the city had, save for one thing - a population. Megatron knew that the people who lived and worked there would serve as an excellent diversion.
Optimus had known he had no choice. Despite the tactical deficiency it created, splitting his squadron into two was the only solution. Part of his troops would go to the city to defend against the Decepticons. The rest would go to the site of the trap.
Either way, Optimus feared for the worst. He feared the humans, whom he had sworn to protect many months ago, would be caught in the crossfire.
He felt trapped.
The distant sound of gunfire shook him out of his reverie. His squadron had reached the outskirts of the urban war zone, and even in the brilliant sunlight, the city flickered with intermittent flashes.
Laser fire. The Decepticons had started already.
"Ironhide, Mirage, Sunstreaker -- transform!"
Optimus Prime gave the command, and instantly several of his group stopped unfolded, twisted and turned into their robotic counterparts. Assorted crashes, squeals, and bangs could be heard as non-Autobot cars suddenly were forced to stop without warning.
"Tracks -- I want you to handle aerial support!"
The blue Corvette immediately deployed wings and started to avoid rush hour traffic the easy way.
"Cliffjumper, Huffer! Continue on this road and try to get closer!"
"You got it, Prime," replied the red hatchback. Two small cars lurched forward as best they could.
Optimus turned towards Ironhide. "How many Decepticons do you see?"
Ironhide scanned the area. "Well, Prime, we've got a trio of jets overhead: Dirge, Ramjet, and Thrust. We've also got Soundwave and... oh, boy, that rust- eating tin can Megatron's here!"
Optimus was taken aback. He thought Megatron would have gone to secure the research facility. Instead, he was here as well, attacking the humans.
There would be time for second guessing later.
"Autobots, move out! We must stop the Decepticons before the damage gets too high! And protect the humans!"
Jesse Mason enjoyed riding his bike. And not only because it was his job. As a messenger, it was his duty to deliver packages from business to business. Countless companies counted on him for numerous reasons. And he was one of the fastest deliverymen around. The fastest, if you asked him. He had the innate ability to squeeze through the mass of humanity on the sidewalk and dart around the cars on the street.
It was as if he wasn't just riding the bike; he *was* the bike.
That's why he enjoyed riding. Sure, the money he got allowed him to survive. But, he didn't do this job only for money. Jesse could only feel truly alive when he was cruising at top speed. He didn't get the same thrill in a car. Pressing on an accelerator pedal didn't mean anything. On a bike, you controlled the speed. You were the speed.
You could find Jesse riding his bike every day, rain or shine. Even on his infrequent days off he would ride around the city. He figured he didn't need a vacation from work; he truly loved what he was doing. It kept him in shape, it paid the bills, and he enjoyed his life.
Today was no different. Jesse had just picked up a large package from a tall high-rise building. It was a long cylinder, and it wobbled a bit in his bicycle basket.
Strap it down a bit, shift some of the weight of other packages, and it was nothing he couldn't handle.
Or so he thought. Little did he know an unknown variable would be introduced into his normal routine.
The muffled explosions were his first sign. Dismissing them as construction in another part of town, he rode on.
The laser show was his second sign. He slowed down a bit, knowing that if he was being distracted, so were other people. It was a time to be more defensive.
Not to mention that it was disturbing as hell. Lasers in the daytime? He knew something was going on.
And the flying robots that changed into jets were his third sign. Jesse had heard of the Transformers before. Everyone in the city had; it was hard to escape from any news about large mechanical aliens.
He had never seen one in person, though.
Jesse was about to get more than he bargained for.
Assorted crashes, squeals, and bangs caught his ears, as the slowly moving wave of cars became a parking lot. Up ahead, he saw several cars and a tractor- trailer unfold into robots.
Jesse had the innate ability to squeeze through the mass of humanity on the sidewalk and dart around the cars on the street.
He saw an opening between two cars and took it.
Right as the driver of one of the cars opened up his door.
Even Jesse, who was one with his bike, couldn't react in time. He crashed into the door, flew off his bike, flipped over the door, and landed on his head. He heard something crack before he lost consciousness.
The driver of the car could only watch in horror. Other people saw what happened.
"Oh my God!"
"Someone call 911!"
"Don't touch him, he could be hurt bad!"
A crowd gathered around Jesse, not knowing what to do. The driver started to shudder. "I... I didn't even see him...."
Some people gave him a look of understanding, concurring it wasn't his fault. Others shot hateful glances of spite at him.
"Autobots, move out! We must stop the Decepticons before the damage gets too high! And protect the humans!"
One man, who was kneeling beside Jesse, turned his head towards the tallest robot, painted red and blue, the one who had just spoken. "A little too late for that, you metal bastard," he spat.
Jesse was always one for caution; helmet and kneepads were part of his work uniform. Doctors say that if Jesse hadn't been wearing his helmet, he would be dead. But they say there is nothing more they can do for him; he will be paralyzed from the neck down for the rest of his life.
Jesse wishes just once he wouldn't have been so cautious. He wishes he had died.
He will never be one with his bike again.
To Be Continued Next Issue
Can't see a contents listing or the Altered States Magazine logo? You're probably stuck in our frames site. Check out either our Basic or Deluxe versions.