Transformers Part 13
At least I think it's 13.
At that point, a strange, macabre sort of dance began. Rusti made herself less of a target by finding a place that Barricade was least likely to start shooting - between his feet, but that didn’t stop him from trying to move away from her to make her a better target. As the Decepticon whirled around, snarling in Cybertronian, Rusti ran along with him, dancing in and out of his feet, trying not to listen to Beast having a heart attack over her situation. Burning white phosphorus dripped off the angry robot like rain, smattering on the concrete with an angry sizzle.
She wanted desperately to be able to take a shot up into Barricade’s vulnerable crotch, but she couldn’t stop moving long enough to bring her weapon up to take aim, concentrating more on not being stepped on was more important. For the first time in her life she felt completely out of her league against an opponent. She was stuck and she wasn’t sure what to do, but her mind was racing through solutions.
Leaping sideways, she only just cleared the space of pavement that Barricade’s foot was about to occupy, bringing his leg into easy arm’s reach for a split second. Without thinking, she reached out and grabbed hold and found herself yanked off the concrete, clinging to an alien robot’s leg. The dance sped up briefly, then the whole world tumbled sideways. Barricade crumbled to the concrete in a heap with Rusti still holding onto his leg.
When things came to a stop, Rusti stayed where she was on the ground, her head covered with her arms and her weapon forgotten for a moment by her side. The heat from the phosphorus flame was nearly unbearable and finally brought her to her feet. She grabbed her rifle and bolted out from under Barricade’s body. A grip like a vise seized her by the shoulders and pulled her to a stop.
“What is wrong with you, you crazy bitch!?” Followed up almost immediately by what her addled brain told her was a cursory physical exam. “Are you OK? I don’t see any burns.”
“What happened to Barricade?”
“Optimus Prime happened to Barricade,” Viper let go of her shoulders. “Have I told you before that saving your ass is a full time job?”
“I could say the same about you. And I’m OK,” she turned to look at Beast. “Beast…”
“Will heal when we get him home and fixed up. He’ll be all right, Rust.”
She didn’t realize she had her own grip on Viper’s forearm until she let go, looking around to take in what else was going on. “They’re dog piling the Ferrari, Viper…”
“Well come on, let’s do something about it. Everybody else is occupied with the Decepticons and TRS ain’t here yet,” he put her weapon back in her hand and picked up the one she’d given to him.
Rusti cast a worried, heartsick glance back at Beast, now guarded by Bumblebee who seemed to be tapped into the comm. network again and arranging to take him home. A knowing set of blue optics glanced her way and his voice came from her watch. “I will get him home, I’m talking to your technician right now. Go, do your job, he’s taken care of.”
“C’mon, Sprite, there’s work we gotta do still.”
She turned away and sprinted after her friend toward the melee surrounding the Ferrari, Desi.
At that point, a strange, macabre sort of dance began. Rusti made herself less of a target by finding a place that Barricade was least likely to start shooting - between his feet, but that didn’t stop him from trying to move away from her to make her a better target. As the Decepticon whirled around, snarling in Cybertronian, Rusti ran along with him, dancing in and out of his feet, trying not to listen to Beast having a heart attack over her situation. Burning white phosphorus dripped off the angry robot like rain, smattering on the concrete with an angry sizzle.
She wanted desperately to be able to take a shot up into Barricade’s vulnerable crotch, but she couldn’t stop moving long enough to bring her weapon up to take aim, concentrating more on not being stepped on was more important. For the first time in her life she felt completely out of her league against an opponent. She was stuck and she wasn’t sure what to do, but her mind was racing through solutions.
Leaping sideways, she only just cleared the space of pavement that Barricade’s foot was about to occupy, bringing his leg into easy arm’s reach for a split second. Without thinking, she reached out and grabbed hold and found herself yanked off the concrete, clinging to an alien robot’s leg. The dance sped up briefly, then the whole world tumbled sideways. Barricade crumbled to the concrete in a heap with Rusti still holding onto his leg.
When things came to a stop, Rusti stayed where she was on the ground, her head covered with her arms and her weapon forgotten for a moment by her side. The heat from the phosphorus flame was nearly unbearable and finally brought her to her feet. She grabbed her rifle and bolted out from under Barricade’s body. A grip like a vise seized her by the shoulders and pulled her to a stop.
“What is wrong with you, you crazy bitch!?” Followed up almost immediately by what her addled brain told her was a cursory physical exam. “Are you OK? I don’t see any burns.”
“What happened to Barricade?”
“Optimus Prime happened to Barricade,” Viper let go of her shoulders. “Have I told you before that saving your ass is a full time job?”
“I could say the same about you. And I’m OK,” she turned to look at Beast. “Beast…”
“Will heal when we get him home and fixed up. He’ll be all right, Rust.”
She didn’t realize she had her own grip on Viper’s forearm until she let go, looking around to take in what else was going on. “They’re dog piling the Ferrari, Viper…”
“Well come on, let’s do something about it. Everybody else is occupied with the Decepticons and TRS ain’t here yet,” he put her weapon back in her hand and picked up the one she’d given to him.
Rusti cast a worried, heartsick glance back at Beast, now guarded by Bumblebee who seemed to be tapped into the comm. network again and arranging to take him home. A knowing set of blue optics glanced her way and his voice came from her watch. “I will get him home, I’m talking to your technician right now. Go, do your job, he’s taken care of.”
“C’mon, Sprite, there’s work we gotta do still.”
She turned away and sprinted after her friend toward the melee surrounding the Ferrari, Desi.