Chapter 3

I got home at 11:30.  Half an hour later of when I was supposed to get home.  I didn't have my phone because I left it at home, thinking I wouldn't need it because I had Sam with me.  Nope.  Turns out he just dropped me on my ass and left me stranded.  So I saw Sam's car in the driveway parked beside my old Bentley and heard police sirens wailing.  They came to a stop in front of our house.  "Hands up!"  The police man yelled, gun aimed at me.  "What's your name?"

"Chick Witwicky!"  I said, my hands up.  "You have the wrong person."

"You live here?"  The police man asked me.

I nodded.  "Yeah," I said jittery.  "Can you lower the gun before you actually shoot me?"

He nodded and put his gun away.  He walked up and looked at me, pulled out a picture of me.

"Chick!"  I heard my mom yell.  She came barrelling out of the house, my dad following her.  "Where were you?"  She asked, hugging me.

"Walking," I said.  I didn't want Sam to get into trouble, but I didn't know how to avoid not getting him into trouble.

"Where?"  The police man asked me.

"None of your business," I said.  "This is family matter.  It doesn't need to involve the police."  I looked at dad.

"What?  Your mother was worrying," he said.  "Thank you officer.  We won't be needing your assistance anymore."

He nodded and he got back into his car.  He shut off the police sirens and pulled out of our driveway.  In a minute, the driver disappeared, just like the cars we bought at Bolivia's Dealership.

I watched the police car pull away, then turned to the front door.  Sam was standing inside watching my every move.  I could tell he was worried about me.

Dad opened the door and let me in, mom following me and then he walked in shutting the door.  I tried to walk past Sam and go upstairs, but he stopped me.

"Chick, look..."  He started.

"Don't.  You left me.  For a girl," I said.  "Uncool big brother move."  I tried to dodge by him again, but dad called us into the living room.  He made us sit down on the couch beside each other.

"You were both minutes late tonight," Dad said.

"Look, dad.  I'm sorry.  This was all my fault," Sam said, taking the blame for all of this.  I shook my head and leaned back into the couch.

"How was it your fault, Sam?"  Mom asked.

Sam looked at me, then looked at the ground.  "I sort of ditch Miles and Chick.  I left them on the side of the road for a girl.  I'm sorry.  To all of you.  Especially Chick.  I shouldn't have done that," Sam said, looking at me.  "Please forgive me."

I sighed.  It's hard not to forgive your own flesh and blood.  "Alright.  But you owe me," I said.

Sam nodded.  "Anything," he smiled.

"Now, you both are grounded for a week.  Understand?"  Dad asked.

Sam and I both nodded.  "Yes," I said.

"Now, go upstairs.  Go to sleep," Mom put in.

Sam and I both went upstairs.  I hugged my older brother and entered my room.  I changed from my clothes into black yoga pants and a white tank top.  I climbed into bed and threw on my blankets, turning out my light and shutting my eyes.

When I was almost asleep, I heard a frantic knocking on my door.  "Chick!  Chick, wake up!  Oh, God.  No, no, no, no, no, no, no!"  Sam screamed he ran to the front of the house, me following him.  His old Camaro was leaving the driveway.  We went on the porch.

"That's my car!"  Sam screamed.  A minute later my car started and drove out of the driveway, following Sam's Camaro.  "No!"  Sam and I both screamed.

Sam turned around, pulling me with him.  He put his shoes on, handing me mine.  "What are we doing?"  I asked frantically.

"Going to get our cars back!"  Sam replied back.  He ran out the front door, galloped along Dad's grass, picked up a bike and started biking after his Camaro.  I picked up my bike and pushed myself to catch up with Sam.

"Where you going with my car, buddy?  Where you going?"  Sam asked.  He pulled out his phone, dialing someone.  "Hello?  911 emergency!  My car has been stolen!  I'm in pursuit!  Right?  I need all units, the whole squadron.  Bring everyone!  No, don't ask me questions, all right?  My father's the head of the neighborhood watch!"

Sam and I pedalled hard, trying to catch up with our cars.  The yellow Camaro with the racing stripes pulled into a construction site.  A train was going by.  He revved his engine, making his tires spin and burst through the gate, going over the tracks.  The little grey Bentley followed.

"Sam!"  I yelled.  "We won't make it!"  We weren't going to make it over the tracks.

"Sure I will!  I'll meet you over there!"  Sam yelled back over the wind.  He pedalled harder, and cleared the tracks just in time.  I skidded and turned before the train took the front part of my bike away.  Sam was on the other side and I was waiting out the stupid train.

I dropped my bike and looked up.  I saw a light in the sky.  I found the source of the light.  The train stopped and I ran over finding Sam hiding behind some gravel.

"Oh, my God," he whispered.  Standing fifty feet away from 60 feet away from us was a humongous mechanical robot.  It was yellow and it was wings made of car doors.  Sam's yellow Camaro just transformed into a sixteen foot robot.  To the robot's right, there was a thirteen foot tall grey dusty robot.  That's...  My car.

"Sam..."  I whispered.  "They're aliens."

He nodded.  "Uh, huh," too astonished to even say anything.  He looked up at the light in the sky.  "Now that's just Batman violation."

There was the symbol that was on Sam's steering wheel.  The Autobot symbol.

Sam looked back down to the robot and starred at it.  The grey robot was flashing a light, looking for people, covering the Camaro.  That's teamwork.  Sam ducked down, bringing me down with him as the beam of light almost hit me.

Sam took out his phone, video taping himself.  "My name is Sam Witwicky.  I'm with Chick, my sister.  Whoever finds this, my our cars are alive, okay?"  Sam turned the phone to the robots.  "You saw that?  Since this is my last words on Earth, I just wanna say, Mom, Dad, I love you, and if you find Busty Beauties under my bed, it wasn't mine.  I'm holding it for Miles.  No, no, wait that...  Okay, that's not true.  It's mine and Uncle Charles gave it to me.  I'm sorry.  Mojo, I love you."  He turned off his phone.  I just stared at him.

"What?"  Sam asked.

"You have Busty Beauties?"  I asked, almost laughing.

"Not a laughing matter, Chick!"  Sam exclaims in a hushed voice.  He stood up, looking at his car and started walking away, trying to be as quiet as he could be, pulling me along by my hand.

I tugged his sweater as I saw two mean looking dogs growling at us.  "Sam..."  I said, watching to dogs stand up.

They barked.  "Run!"  Sam yelled.  He started running, not letting go of my hand.  He was faster than me, so trying to keep up with him was hard.  If I slowed down, he'd pull me up beside him.

"No! No! No! No!"  Sam yelled.

"Sam!"  I yelled as I looked behind us.

"Don't look back!"  He screamed.

I ran as fast as I could, pumping my arms as hard as I could.  That's when I heard a crash.  The dogs came off their chains.  I had to run faster.  Sam ran to a stack of boards at the back of the construction site.  Little did I know it was a five foot drop.  Sam jumped, pulling me down too.  He fell into a pile of woodchips.  "Get up!"  He yelled.  He helped me up, taking my right hand and running again.

He turned back to the dogs.  "No, you're a good dog!  Good dog!  Good dog!"  Sam screeched.

The dogs kept barking at us.  Sam kept running until he saw a few barrels.  He jumped on them, helping me up too.  He held me up by my waist as the dogs came and surrounded us.

"Whoa!  Hey, hey, hey!  No!  No!  All right!"  Sam yelled at them.  He kicked at one when it jumped at me.  "Oh, no!"

I heard a car.  Then another one.  Sam's  Camaro burst through the broken barn doors.  Apparently we were in a barn.  My little grey car followed.

"Okay.  Please, please don't kill us!"  I yelled at them.  I knew they could hear me.  They were robots.

"I'm sorry!"  Sam yelled.  "Take the keys!"  He threw them at the Camaro.  "I don't want them!  Car's yours!"

"Sam, they're robots!  No one's driving them!"  I shouted as the cars circled us.

"Right!"  Sam said.  He jumped off the barrels and grabbed his keys.  He ran out the barn door.  I couldn't get out.  The old scratched up grey Bentley came close to the barrels so I jumped on the hood at the last second and then jumped off, doing a roll and then landing on my feet.

"Sam!"  I yelled.  Sam almost got ran over by a police vehicle.

"Listen, listen, listen!  Good, you're here," Sam said.

I ran up beside him, stopping and kicking up gravel.

"Let me see your hands!"  The police car driver exclaimed. The passenger got out and stood behind the door with his gun aimed at Sam.

"Don't shoot!"  I yelled at him.  I looked back and didn't hear the engines of our cars running.

"No, no, no!  It's not me!  The guy's inside!"  Sam yelled.

The driver yelled again.  "Let me see your hands!"

The passenger police man yelled, "Shut up!  Both of you walk towards the car."

Sam and I both reluctantly walk to the car and put our heads on the hood of the police cruiser.

***