Bumblebee awoke in a desolate landscape surrounded by thick, swirling smoke. His mind was shrouded in a dense fog, providing only glimpses of his past. As he rose to his feet, the ominous silence was shattered by the groaning of his stiff joints, echoing through the air like a thunderclap. Suddenly, chaos erupted as a horde of ravenous creatures charged toward him, driven by a primal hunger. With a fortitude that seemed unyielding, Bumblebee fended off the relentless onslaught, his armor proving impenetrable against the gnashing teeth of the fiends.
Confused and desperate for answers, he fled from the seething mass of undead, trampling many in his path. Days passed, and Bumblebee wandered alone, a solitary figure in a hostile world, until, by chance, he encountered a recon team from the newly formed G.I. Joe Team.
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“BumbleBee.”
“Yes?”
“That thing out there today. It was... it looked like... Was it one of, you?”
“I don’t know.” The robot sits on the cold, polished concrete floor, using a metallic finger to flick aimlessly at nothing. “I thought. I was. The only one,” his voice pops and crackles from his speakers as he struggles to express himself with radio clips stored in his memory banks. His voice module had been destroyed in a long-forgotten incident. He looks up, his blue glowing eyes reflecting a sense of sadness onto Throttle.
“It sure as shit was. You saw that thing Thro...” Throttle delivers a quick jab to Ground’s side, “Umph! What the...” She goes to do it again, but Ground backs up, tripping over a haphazardly placed wrench and falling flat on his ass.
“I told you to put the tools away.” Throttle shoots Ground a look, his ego bruised on the floor. Then it clicks.
On a scavenging mission, Throttle and Ground had breached the abandoned yet locked-up garage, by picking the lock. The taste of mold hung in the air as they moved cautiously past industrial shelving, each overflowing with old-world tech. When they first caught sight of Bumblebee, he sat surrounded by mildew-stained sagging stacks of cardboard boxes, vomiting their contents of computers, tablets, phones, and various devices with processing power onto the floor. They watched silently from behind cover, unsure of what to do. Ground silently raised his rifle first, and Throttle followed suit.
However, neither of them fired.
“It’s okay. Just do it. I won’t stop you.” The eerie voice, a bizarre amalgamation of radio clips, song lyrics, and a DJ's voice, sent shivers down their spines. Startled, Ground squeezed the trigger as Throttle instinctively shouldered him to the side. The wild shot missed the metallic creature before them, which remained unnervingly unbothered. It appeared to accept its impending demise until it noticed sparks to its right and turned toward the duo.
Throttle stood tall, her weapon pointed at the floor.
“What the fuck you doing, Throttle? That thing...”
“Shut it, G,” she hushed him, fixing her gaze on the robotic entity, “You can speak?”
“Yes.”
“Can you understand us?”
“Yes.”
“What are you?”
“I... I... I don’t know.” The words carried a poignant undercurrent of sorrow.
As the tension thickened in the air, Throttle's voice quivered in disbelief, “What are you doing here?” She gestured around the room, her eyes wide with confusion, “With all this?”
“I don’t know.”
Throttle stepped further into the room. SMASH! A deafening crash echoed through the garage as the bodies of the undead slammed into the doors. The sound of Ground’s errant gunfire seemed to act as a dinner bell to the starving masses of flesh-hungry monsters. Throttle and Ground swiftly spun towards the door, weapons at the ready.
“Throttle, we need to move, right fuckin' now!”
“Yeah,” She quickly looked back at the sad yellow figure beside her, then carefully began backstepping. She trusted Ground to cover their six. They had to reach the rear door, hoping none of THEM were lurking there, and then high tail it out of dodge.
“Don’t go. They are there.” They both stopped in their tracks at the chilling words.
“How do you know?” Ground asked, trigger finger itching.
“I can. See them. We are, surrounded.”
“Fuck!”
“Can it G. We don’t know that for sure.”
The robot raised its head, “I. Am sure.” The banging on the doors grew more intense. Smash! Suddenly, a loud crash echoed through the garage as the backdoor was violently shattered.
“Fuck.”
“Stay frosty, G.”
A grunt was his only reply.
The sounds of glass shattering and cascading boxes grew louder and more chaotic with each passing moment.
“We’re really fucked, Throttle,” Ground shouted.
Without taking her eyes off her sight picture, “Any ideas, big guy?”
WHRR-TSCHZZ-TSCHZZ-TSCHZZ-CHK
Throttle's jaw dropped in astonishment as the parts of the robot rearranged themselves with precise mechanical slicks. In a matter of seconds, the humanoid robot transformed into a dusty Volkswagen Beetle 4x4. The car's doors swung open with a faint click, and a voice invited, “Get in.”
“What are you waiting for. You heard it. Get in.” Ground jumped in the open passenger door which slammed shut behind him. Throttle shook her head and ran for the driver’s side. The door slammed shut as soon as she sat down. The garage door began bowing under the tremendous weight of the ghouls pressing their sinewy bodies against it. At the same time, the car rocked violently as the first runner slammed into the passenger side. Its body was broken by time yet still possessed by the unquenchable urge to kill. The thin window glass was the only thing stopping it from sinking its broken black teeth into Ground’s flesh on the other side. Throttle reached for the ignition, “No keys.” Suddenly the engine started with a roar. “Buckle up. This... Is... about to. Get. Rocky.”
The car accelerated in the small space pushing Ground and Throttle back into the bucket seats. It launched at the garage doors easily smashing through them and the awaiting mass of undead outside. The sounds of bodies squelching and crunching under the tires were like a gruesome opera. The smell of gray rotted flesh filled the cabin. “I’m gonna be sick.” Ground spit out, the color drained from his face. Near instantly the hum of a fan kicked in and both the sounds and smell were gone. “Holy Hell.” Throttle exclaimed, “Is there anything else you can do?” The only response was the speedometer rapidly increasing.
It has been more than a year since that fateful day. Initially, everyone was cautious, to say the least. The mysterious arrival of Bumblebee raised numerous questions. Where did it come from? What was its purpose? Gradually, Bumblebee exhibited its immense value, becoming an indispensable comrade to Throttle. To such an extent that Throttle now never ventures outside the wire without "The Bug."
Until today, Throttle had always believed that he was the sole representative of his kind. However, recent developments unveiled the existence of another similar entity - one that posed a threat. Bumblebee now wondered about his place in the world, and what it meant that there was another like him.
