Ratchet X Wheeljack Novels & Stories

He was a man of the Grit. "Jax!" he screamed, looking down at the pier. "The radiator housing! Use the gravity-anchor!" Jax, understanding the shift instantly, abandoned his rifle. He dove for a salvaged scavenger harpoon sitting on the edge of the pier. He braced himself against a rusted mooring post and fired. The harpoon didn't hit the armored plates; it hit the cooling fins Alexander had just uncovered. The cable snapped taut, the weight of the massive machine pulling against the ancient, deep-rooted pier.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Ranger smirked through bloody teeth. “Wrench. Marcus ‘Wrench’ Greene. One of the original six. The mechanic genius who helped you build this club from scrap when you were twenty-two years old.” The older members shifted uncomfortably. Jax’s face went dangerously blank for a second. Hazel stepped closer, voice rising. “What the hell is happening? Why are you all looking at me like that?” Jax turned to her slowly. His eyes were haunted, calculating. “Hazel… go outside.”

I can’t do this again and my head yells at me. After the highly stressed dinner with Merigold, I decided to retreat to what Ratchet likes to call my fortress of solitude. It is just the trailer we transport Frankenstein in. Ratchet and I saved forever to get this big rig. Alaric and the crew along with Merigold surprised me on my twentieth birthday and put in the money we were short and helped me buy it. It was used and needed a few repairs as well as a good paint job but overall it was in good shape. We added hooks for some of our tools and bolted our toolboxes to the floor. We fixed the few rust holes that were in the walls and painted inside and out. We even reinforced the floor to make

Jack demanded. “Old harbor district. Warehouse 19. Midnight.” Raul tossed him a small device a jammer. “You’re gonna need that. She’s wired into half the city.” Jack took it without a word and turned away. He didn’t need to ask why Raul was helping him; in their world, debts were currency, and Raul owed him plenty. Kendall lay awake in her apartment, unable to shake the unease gnawing at her chest. She’d tried calling Jack twice, but both times the line went straight to voicemail.

My plan will not work if no one is trying to steal the limelight from me! Jacky, too felt a sense of accomplishment, like a hero. He turned around and looked at Xella, as though telling her not to worry, and that he had everything under control. Xella simply nodded and quickly whipped out her cell phone to call the police. “F*ck! So you’re really not giving me any face at all. Brothers... beat him up!” As soon as Warrick boomed, he picked up a stool from the side and threw it directly at Jacky.

Nothing. "Help me." Anton set his wrench down and added his weight, his good shoulder protesting. Together they strained. The wheel resisted, then gave a fraction with a metallic shriek of protest. They pushed again, muscles corded, breath coming in grunts. And with agonising resistance the great wheel started to turn. With a final, thunderous clunk, the internal bolts retracted.

Rachel and a few Longmen disciples followed closely behind. Aside from keeping Xynthia safe, they were also pushing Boss Dart in a wheelchair. The man was on the verge of death. “What are you trying to do, Harvey?” “Don’t you know when to stop?” “Are you crazy?!” Riley couldn’t just sit back in the car. She trembled uncontrollably and poked her head out the window, and started screaming at Harvey. Harvey, however, didn’t even look back. “I told you.” “I’m destroying the Hatchet Gang.”

"Haley, turn your dial to the left..." "Maeve, try yours to the right with one turn..." "Who has same symbol of crown? Turn one place and I'll turn to the right..." "My dial has this skull thing. Killian does you dial have the same shit? Let's get them meet half end..." The rusty wheels creak as we turn them, searching for the correct sequence. Gears grind against each other, the chains clanking loudly. Sweat rolls down my brow as time ticks out. We frantically twist and pull, our hands shaking as one by one, even just a little the gear slips into place with a satisfying click.

I said moving my hands in a shooing motion. Rocket and I move around people and make our way to the bar. I recognize the guy bartending. He was on duty at the house one night. I remember that he is deaf so I pull out my phone and type. “ Hey Ratchet, can you get Rocket a rum and cola?” He nods and makes Rocket her drink. Then he places one of my favorite wine coolers and a bottle of water on the bar. I cock my head and Ratchet pulls out his phone. “ Viper, made sure we have your favorites.” he typed. Aww, that is so sweet of him. I pick the wine cooler and thank Ratchet and walk around with Rocket by my side. I still haven’t seen Viper yet.

he muttered as he stared at the machine that was at 68 percent. He took hold of her hand and stared at her. She was more or less his only family now. She was the one he saw as his child, and he would do anything to keep her alive. He would go pull her out of the mouth of death itself if necessary. Soon enough, he heard the dinging sound from the machine and rushed to the computer. The prescription pulled up, and he went to their medical supply store to pull out two containers. The poison she had been stabbed with was rather deadly, but he was happy he had identified it. He got a new syringe, measured out rations from both prescriptions, and went to inject her with it.