Beast Wars Fan Fiction ❯ Machines and Mortals ❯ Chapter 2 ( Chapter 2 )

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Rounding twists and turns, we approached a building that had not yet crumbled yet. It looked like it used to have been a McDonalds at the time. Turner glanced sideways down the street and hustled over to the building, signaling me to stay. He tapped twice on the door, paused, then did two more taps. The door slid open silently, and a girl no more than the age of thirteen stood watch. Turner motioned to me, and I skated over. As I entered, the girl nodded in approval. Once inside, I realized that it really had been a McDonald’s.
Dusty images of Big Macs and kids milk lined an area above the cracked and rusty counter. Tables lined the room, showing their age through cracks and creaks. Kids of all ages sat at these tables or lined the walls, chatting things I was only able to catch bits of. “… Machines have captured…” “Super weapons found…” “… bodies were everywhere…” One boy who looked up from his spot instantly stood up and saluted. The others, in turn, followed suit.
Once the last girl and boy had saluted, the group, in unison, lipped one word “Sir.” I saluted back with Turner, and the large group returned back to where they had originally been. Walking in between tables, Turner led me to the backroom of the establishment. Inside sat a few teens, all serious once I had entered. “Jason, your other commanders,” Turner said. When the others in the room glanced sternly and curiously at Turner, he mouthed “Amnesia”. The others nodded, and Turner turned back to me. “Anyway, Jason, meet Scace, your weapons and explosives expert,” Turner pointed to a 13-year-old boy, whom had grenade bandoliers wrapped across his chest, and a big rocket launcher strapped to his back. He had the muscles of a tank, with fierce green eyes to match. He saluted me, and I returned the favor. “And over there in the corner is Damion, your strategist and game planner,” Turner motioned towards a slim 14-year-old boy in the dark background.
Damion had electrifying yellow eyes, a fang toothed smirk, and a shining knife with which he was spinning calmly. Damion nodded his salute, and I nodded back, which at first I really didn’t want to do. “And finally,” Turner said, bringing my attention back to him,” Is your sister Marissa.” When he pointed to a crate in which a girl of around the age of 12, I stared in absolute disbelief. This was Marissa, my younger sister, but much more finely toned. She looked as she had before, but with a few slight adjustments. First of all, she looked as if she could take on a monster truck with her bare hands and walk away without a scratch, and two, she looked like she had been through hell and back. Her eyes burned with a seemingly endless fire, her fists clenching and unclenching, and a large machine gun hung limply on her back. Across her chest hung ammo clips and a few grenades. This form of Marissa was a time bomb. You piss this girl off you better run for your life, because she’ll get you for sure. “She’s your commander in charge of war,” Turner said. Perfect, sounds just like her, I thought to myself.
The small group began to gravitate towards a table in the middle of the room. I followed Turner to the plain little thing. Each of the four commanders placed their hands on the edge of the table, the spots glowing on the slight touch. Abruptly, diagrams floated around the room in a medley of colors. Turner and the others placed their hands on four different screens. One of an odd shade of purple gravitated itself to me. I looked at it as the other parts of the group looked at me.
Placing my hand on the blank screen, a voice from somewhere said in a quite realistic sense “, BIO SCAN BEGINNING. PLEASE DO NOT REMOVE IDENTIFICATION PLACEMENT.” Words appeared on the screen, as did on the others. Mine read ‘JASON AARON MATTHEWS, REBELLION LEADER’. Glancing over at the other screens, I read through the transparencies. Turner’s read ‘TURNER DAVID BROADS, FIRST COMMANDER OF COUNSEL’. The other screens read similarly. Swiftly and silently, the screens swirled, revealing a landscape map of the world Earth. I stared in awe as red and blue dots appeared all over that hologram. I looked to Turner and the commanders for answers.
Turner turned to me and said quite easily “, The red dots represent the Machine factories in which we know of. The blue dots are rebel camps. As you can see, we lost most of the Asia Minor to the Machines, but we’re holding on all sides of that. I have to ask again, do you remember any of this?” Turner looked at me pleadingly, probably hoping I would have all the answers, but the truth was, I didn’t. I shook my head and saw Turner’s head drop. I knew he was disappointed, so I thought I should at least take the initiative.
“Turner, you told me when we left that building that a Roble-Sint tower had been taken. Can you show me where that is?” I watched as Turner nodded his head softly. He placed his hand forward and said in an almost too hard to hear voice “, Roble-Sint, tower. Please find it.” The globe zoomed in a flurry of lights until a red dot flashed on the globe. Machine factory, I thought to myself, but instantly backed up and thought, why am I trying to help them? I don’t have any ideas of what to do. I looked at my team and was thinking when… BOOOOMMMMM!!!!! A grenade hit the wall behind us, knocking the group to the floor. But my team was already up to arms. Marissa had flipped her gun around and held that in one hand, a grenade in the other. Damion twirled his knife, but as I watched, a computer generalization made it into a machete.
The weapons specialist, Scace, held eight cherry bombs between his fingers, and a lighter between his teeth. Turner’s gun materialized, too, making him a direct foe. Behind us, gunfire rambled and slashed the walls to shreds, the counters cracking in the mid-fight. And all the time this was happening, I stood there, having no idea of what to do. Then, out of the smoke, an electrified blade slid into my palms. I could feel its power pulse through my body, creating a wave of confidence and adrenaline. A hand grabbed my elbow in an iron grip and spun me around. As I turned, my eyes met the bionic ones of the Machine behind me.
Its eyes seemed to zoom in on my face, and it announced aloud “, JASON AARON MATTHEWS. DESIMILATE NOW.” Thinking only in fear, I sliced forward with all my might, sending the Machine into two. Another hand grabbed me, but, turning around, I realized it was Scace. He pushed me before him, covering my rear as we ran out of the building. Sizzling flesh and burnt metal rank in my nose. I almost puked as I saw the face of the girl who had stood guard charred and beheaded from the rest of her body. Scace pushed me past without a word, nodding in prayer of her brave death.
Once outside, I saw that there were many Machines in what would have once been the parking lot. I could not count them all, there were so many. I knew just Scace and I, even with our way advanced weaponry, could not defeat them all. Then, from out of the blue, a rocket whizzed from the sky and hit the middle of the lot, blowing Machines left and right, leaving a heap of them everywhere. As Scace and I turned, a very devious looking Turner stepped out.
Following out of the smoke came a very large group of the kids from inside, Turner at their lead, Marissa and Damion at his heels. I stared in great disbelief. Turner smiled back at me and said “, You didn’t think that we were good enough? Oh, I’m disappointed.” He put his head down in mock sadness. I giggled. The group raised their weapons high. I raised my blade and announced in a true commander’s voice “, FOR THE REBELLION!” The group roared back, and saluted. I stood at attention, saluted, and marched off. As if we were all one, the group followed completely in unison, my commanders leading them…