Act 1: The Future War
Los Angeles
July 10, 2029
Nightfall
In the hills overlooking the ruins of West Hollywood, there is a bowl-shaped depression in the land, an amphitheater. The forgotten venue is lined with concrete stairs, which lie cracked and worn before the broken dome of a decades-ruined stage. A few gray acoustic spheres are still affixed above the stage, with others scattered at its base. A searchlight scans the ground, revealing the faded words of an old laminated poster:
“Performance Tonight: The Damnation of Faust: By Hector Berlioz. August 21, 1997”. Then, in italics: “The Day of Judgment”.
The searchlight passes over the poster and its light plays amid the shadows of the half-fallen dome. The source of the light is a large tank, its upper section swiveling like a torso, two massive guns slung on its sides like arms. The tank continues unhurried up the canyon, scanning the scrub and groundcover on either side of its programmed patrol.
In a small hollow just above the ruined amphitheater, the glint of a polished lens is just visible in the dim night. Its owner, Cassie, a middle-aged woman with a mass of brown hair tied in a bun, is lying on her stomach, the binoculars to her eyes. One of the lenses is broken, and she looks out of the other at the retreating tank. A low voice mutters behind her.
“I’ve gotta eat something, Cass. I’m starved. C’mon, it’s time for dinner.”
The source of the voice is a young woman, Emma, with a dark face and short black hair cropped military-style. Her gaunt, starved form is wrapped in a dark trenchcoat and one of her arms is twisted and small, a sign of childhood malnutrition. She digs in a pouch with this hand, retrieving two shriveled bits of dried meat. She rips into one of them with her teeth, offering the other to the older woman.
“More coyote?”
“What else?”
The older woman holds the pitiful strip of meat in the palm of her hand, a sour look on her face. “Tyrese wants a coyote.”
Emma glances down at Cassie’s vest. In the darkness, she can just make out hand-stitched animal faces festooning the dirty and threadbare garment. Her eyes travel over a faded pink unicorn, an orange and black tiger, a small horned owl, a green and red dragon, and finally come to rest on the face of a fierce American badger embroidered on the front left pocket. She rolls her eyes. “That kid has no imagination.”
The gray-haired woman shrugs. “He says it’s a survivor.”
“There’s not much room left.”
Cassie examines the vest, finding a bare place on the right pocket. “Yet somehow I always find room.” She pops the dried coyote meat in her mouth, holding it there to soften. She gestures for a battered bottle on the ground beside the young woman. She hands it over and the older woman takes a swig to wet her mouth. The younger woman grins at her.
“You’re just prolonging the pain.”
Her companion begins chewing, speaking out of the side of her mouth. “Saving my teeth.” She smiles, showing her pearly whites.
The young woman almost laughs. “You’d make a very fine companion to mister Bob here.” She reaches over and raps on a white object beside her. Their supply pack is lying in the ribcage of a human skeleton, its skull grinning out at them from the side of the trench as if it were in on the joke.
The old woman’s smile disappears. “You shouldn’t joke about that, Em. And take that out of poor Bob.” She gestures to the pack.
“He doesn’t mind.”
“Just do it.”
With a sigh, she reaches over and takes the bag out of the ribcage, setting it beside her and rummaging through it. “No more coyote either. This is going to be a long night.”
The old woman rises into a crouch. “Speaking of, you’re on watch.”
“Where are you going?”
“I have business, and I don’t want Bob watching.” The older woman moves toward a rock several dozen meters away while the young woman smiles and covers Bob’s eye sockets with her hand. She picks up the binoculars and offers them to the skull. “Care to take a shift?” Bob doesn’t answer, so she settles down on her stomach to scan the empty valley.
The wind picks up, scattering papers and leaves across the concrete amphitheater steps. The objects swirl and dance, and the young woman focuses on them with interest. Suddenly there is a flash of blue light from the distant stage and the binoculars snap up to focus on the disturbance. Lightning is now coursing across the arched top of the stage, radiating along the rusted metal struts of the arch.
The young woman glances back at the rock where the older woman is hiding. “Cass! Get over here!” she hisses, not wanting to raise her voice. In frustration, she looks back at the stage.
A stable point of light appears near the apex of the arch, expanding in size until it is over a meter in diameter; a ball of completely stationary light, sparks and bolts of energy radiating out from it into the air. Then, just as soon as it appears, it disappears. A small, naked figure falls from the center of the vanished ball and down onto the stage. The rotted boards of the structure give way and the figure smashes through into the darkness below.
The young woman scans the scene, her eyes wide and mouth hanging open in astonishment. “Cass, where are you?” She notes that the sphere of energy has sliced through part of the arch, leaving shorn bits of metal still glowing red from the immense energy.
The older woman comes racing back from the rock, still adjusting her pants. She collapses beside the young woman and the binoculars are passed between them.
“You just missed it Cass, there was a ball of light right there above the stage. I think a kid fell out of it.”
The older woman looks sidelong at her companion. “A kid?” She puts the binocs back over her eyes. “Where?”
“He fell through the stage. He might be hurt.”
The young woman rises from her position in the trench. “I’m gonna help him.”
Her companion pulls her back down. “The hell you are. That tank will come back here at any moment.”
“Cassie…that’s why I have to help him.” She shakes her arm free of the older woman’s grip and moves away. “Sorry Cass.”
“No heroics, dammit!” the older woman whispers, but it’s too late. Emma is already halfway down the slope heading for the amphitheater steps.
Cassie puts the binoculars to her eyes again, scanning the valley. She sees the light of the skynet tank at the northern end of the valley, making its way back down to its southern mouth. She rises to help her companion, but the searchlight plays across the open ground between Cassie’s position and the amphitheater. She ducks back down as the light sweeps over the trench. “Shit.” She settles for observing the situation and talking to herself. “Okay, Em, just keep quiet until the tank passes, then get the hell out.”
The tank continues moving on its patrol route, scanning the sides of the valley in slow calculated sweeps as it moves closer and closer to the dilapidated structure. Cassie continues muttering to herself. “That’s it, just keep going. Nothing to see here.”
A groaning sound emanates from the amphitheater arch. Cassie snaps her view back to the sliced section of the arch, noting how it’s beginning to sag. She sees that the fatigued metal that remains is twisting and deforming with the loss of structural support. “Shit. Shit, shit.”
With a sudden lurch and twang, the arch snaps entirely in two, collapsing in on itself and bringing down most of the roof of the stage with an almighty crash.
The tank’s spotlight swivels to focus on the collapsed structure, changing course and making a beeline for the disturbance. A cylindrical eye near the top of the tank irises in and out, its infrared sensors picking up a heat signature within the structure. It opens fire, blasting away part of the stage as it approaches.
“Dammit Em, get out of there.” Cassie is frantically scanning the edges around the stage and suddenly she sees a small form wearing Emma’s long trenchcoat breaking free of the far side of the stage, racing with surprising speed toward a rusted car on the far side of the valley. The tank’s turret snaps onto his position and fires just as he makes it to the car. The blast is absorbed by the vehicle, but now the small figure is trapped.
“Cass!” The yell comes from the amphitheater steps. Cassie swings her binocs over and sees the coatless form of Emma taking the steps two and three at a time as she tries to find cover. The tank takes a shot at her, its laser striking the step beside her and showering her in powdered concrete.
Taking this chance, the trenchcoated form behind the rusty car makes a break for it, trying to go up the other side of the valley and over the far ridge. Cassie leaps up and races to intercept Emma at the top of the ridge while the tank targets the small form at the far side of the valley and fires. The body disintegrates in a ball of fire.
“No!” The voice comes from Emma, who is standing just below the top of the ridge and looking back at the smouldering spot where the small figure met its end.
“Em, get down!” Cassie shouts, cresting the ridge and sliding down into cover on the other side. Emma tries to follow suit but is a moment too slow. The tank fires on her position and strikes the ground at her feet, flinging her into the air and over the crest of the ridge.
“Em, no! Emma!” Cassie races forward in a crouch toward her fallen friend. Emma is unconscious, one side of her face burned and her body covered in dirt and dust. Cassie risks a glance over the crest of the hill to see the tank waiting at its base, weapons still trained on the women’s last positions. “C’mon, Em, we need to move. They’ll be all over us in a minute.” Emma is nonresponsive. With a strangled sob, Cassie grabs the front of Emma’s shirt and pulls her over her shoulders. “Okay, Em, we’re getting out of here.” She grunts as she takes the weight of the gaunt woman and carries her to a stand of bushes nearby.
Within the scrub brush a rusty dirtbike lies on its side. She rights the bike and lays her unconscious comrade on the seat behind her. She activates the scavenged electric motor, which starts with a low hum. With a final look behind her, she hits the accelerator and drives away from the ridge into the darkness of the night.
Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado
Rain lashes down on the Cheyanne mountains of Colorado, their denuded slopes festooned with the metal scars of machine infestation. Lightning strikes, thunder crashes, but the fury of the storm is deafened by the wrath of John Connor’s Resistance.
Wave after wave of humanity crashes against the walls and fences of SAC-NORAD, the seat of Skynet’s power. Blue light from wall-mounted turrets lances out at the captured tanks and aircraft that the armies of John Connor now use against their oppressors, Skynet’s own weapons firing back at them and punching through every layer of defense.
An enormous explosion shakes the earth and the inner wall of the compound collapses, and a mass of infantry surges forward with a yell, their forces meeting the hundreds of skeletal chrome warriors within. Blue and purple light flies fast and thick, turning the very air toxic with the smell of ozone and burning flesh. Hundreds of humans fall but more replace them, retrieving fallen weapons from the charred hands of their comrades in arms and raising them to continue the fight.
Less than a mile from the outer walls of the compound, standing atop a human-built Abrams tank, John Connor scans the progress of the battle, his binoculars tinting the world green. The night vision amplifies the light of the energy weapons, turning the battle into a blown-out miasma, but John isn’t looking at the front lines. He is scanning the airspace around the mountain, noting the aircraft circling the summit. He zooms in on a space just below the summit, a dark smudge that resolves into a set of heavy metal doors.
John lowers his binoculars, speaking into his headset. “Chen, priority target on the Eastern slope. That’s the escape hatch.” He raises the binocs again, tracking the helicopters that are moving and taking up position around the mountain slope.
A woman standing beside John speaks up from her radio station. “Sir, the inner wall is breached. Skynet forces are in retreat.”
If John is pleased by this news, he doesn’t show it. “Bring my men to the rally point. This is now a Tech-Com operation.” He turns away, motioning to a large German Shepherd sitting at his side. The dog stands and follows him down from the tank and into a waiting army jeep. Together they ride forward toward the sounds of battle. The woman barks an order into the radio and she sees several more vehicles converging on John’s car in the distance, all of them making for the war-blasted mountain.
Skynet Headquarters
Deep inside the mountain, there is a small, nondescript room lit with a cold white light. Within this room, a wizened old man sits on a mattress laid within a small alcove designed to accommodate it. Behind the man on the mattress is a collection of printed papers, photos, and handwritten notes which he is organizing into a binder, selecting some, discarding others. His bespectacled eyes fall on a photo resting beneath some papers and he moves it close to his eyes. The picture shows a smiling family, clad in jeans and t-shirts, standing in front of a large building with the word Cyberdyne emblazoned in bold letters above them. Tenderly, he puts a hand to the image.
He places the picture into the breast pocket of his white coat, returning to the notes and diagrams strewn about him. On many of them are complex figures and technical illustrations, but they seem to describe a large, spherical object of nearly unfathomable complexity.
The room shakes as another blast hits the mountain. The opaque wall of his cell turns transparent. He glances up, sighing to himself. Beyond his cell he can see many more cells, all of them with occupants in various states of dress and distress. Slim robotic forms move in the hallways beyond his cell.
He moves to the side wall of his cell and looks in. The cell adjoining his is pristine, all of its minimal objects in proper place. The blanket has been pulled off the bed and is now wadded up in the rear corner of the room beside his own. Within the wad of blanket is a shock of white hair, popping up out of it like the fur of a hamster.
The old man moves to the back corner of his room and slides down the wall to a sitting position so that he is right next to the blanket and mop of hair. “Ian…it’s going to be okay.”
The blanket moves, the head turning within it. The old man continues. “They’ll get us out of here before Connor’s soldiers get in. There is a plan.”
A head now emerges from the folds of blanket. “It feels like the whole place is coming down.”
“This is a big mountain, Ian. It would take more than a few grenades to get in here.”
Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado
The rain has stopped, but clouds still hang low over the carnage scattered over the mountain slopes. The Resistance convoy winds its way through the broken layers of Skynet’s defense, first through trampled fences, then across the rubble of shattered walls. Connor’s Jeep leads the way, and on either side of the car there stand the ebullient survivors among the valiant dead. Some of them salute, some cheer, all make way before John Connor and his Tech-Com team.
The convoy arrives at the base of the mountain and it is quickly surrounded by shouting and cheering men and women, weapons raised in the air. John stands in the Jeep and looks out across the field. No machines remain standing. The walls above the compound and its massive guns are now manned with Connor’s troops, the perimeter defenses now pointed inward at the heavy steel door set into the mountain high above. The spotlights of aerial Hunter Killers and helicopters are trained on this unmoving door.
John leaps out of the jeep followed by his dog Max and makes his way to the base of the mountain, where stands a great low arch of concrete, its dark opening unbarred and unguarded. This is a human construction, the entrance to SAC-NORAD, the missile defense center for the continental United States. The cheering crowd makes way for him and the Tech-Com soldiers filing in after him, and as he breaks through the crowd he is approached by a woman with the name ‘Young’ stitched over the breast pocket. She salutes and he returns the gesture. She speaks.
“The North and South portals are both open and track with Pentagon plans from ‘95. It seems that Skynet didn’t think we’d get this far.”
A raised brow from Connor indicates what he thinks about this hypothesis. The woman then holds out a small device with a screen. “We found this at the North portal.”
John examines the device, which is little more than a screen with a voice prompt. He speaks. “This is John Connor, leader of the Human Resistance.” The message vanishes, replaced with a short text message followed by a list of names. He scrolls down the list, a bemused smile on his lips. The woman frowns. “What is it?”
John smiles. “Skynet’s ultimatum, what else?” He reads from the short paragraph heading the document. He laughs, reading aloud in a heightened baritone. “Ahem. Skynet’s forces will continue to execute their final mission parameters in the event of total mainframe destruction…etcetera, etcetera…” He clears his throat. “As a result of this destruction, it estimates that its forces will terminate an additional thirty-two million human lives.” John’s voice suddenly drops in volume and his eyebrows go up as he scans the page. “Oh, this is new. It lists its human collaborators.” With a casual motion, he clears the screen and drops the pad to the ground, where he smashes it with his boot.
Sergeant Reese takes a step forward as if to stop him, his eyes glancing back and forth between the smashed pad and John’s almost sardonic expression.
John eyes his group of Tech-Com soldiers. None of the others have moved a muscle at his action, and he addresses them. “Skynet seems to think this is a hostage situation.” There are a few dark looks amongst the group, and one of the men mutters “Traitors.”
Lieutenant Young’s eyes go wide, and she glances up at the dark mountain, then back to John. “Sir…if there are people being held hostage in there…we have one more EMP warhead. We should use it.” There is a chorus of mirthless chuckles from around the group of soldiers surrounding John. Their leader speaks. “I think Skynet is counting on it.” He hands the pad back to the woman. “And because of that, I’d be willing to bet that Skynet is quite well insulated from electronic attack.” He turns to his team. “Bring Sarah to the South portal. Let’s finish this.”
The team moves to obey his orders. Lieutenant Young frowns. “Who’s Sarah?” John raises his eyebrows at her as he moves away, but says nothing. He strides toward an armored vehicle bustling with Tech-Com activity. A soldier opens a canvas flap and Kyle sees within a large rocket, its nose cap missing. Beside it is a small device by comparison, a cylindrical tube with the word ‘Sarah’ written on it in white. John goes to the small tube and opens a metal door in its side to reveal a keypad. He enters a series of numbers and the device lights up, activated. John looks at his men. “Load the warhead.” They salute and he steps back, moving onward to the command tent.
Skynet Headquarters
Within the cells, the old man and the boy huddle together, the glass of the cell wall the only thing separating them. The old man removes the photo from his pocket, showing it to Ian. “Remember, I will look different in that time.”
Ian grins sardonically at the old man. “You had hair then.”
The old man smiles back. “You must ask for Professor Takawa. Explain everything…make him understand the value of that one defining moment.”
“I will.”
The old man sighs. “It will be a different world, Ian. Green trees, living things. When you get there, it will be so different…so new….”
The boy nods. The old man places a hand on the glass, and the boy does the same. The old man’s eyes crinkle at the corners. “You will see sunlight…open spaces.”
The boy looks away, nodding. The man’s voice is almost a whisper.
“You will have to be very brave.”
Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado
John marches through the battlefield toward the command tent, but Kyle Reese intercepts him. He stands before John, stopping the man in his tracks. “I won’t be party to a massacre.”
John practically growls at the Sergeant. “You’re a soldier. Killing is in your job description.”
“Scrapping machines is different, and you know it. Most of those people in there didn’t choose that life. They’re hostages, not traitors. This is crossing a line, John.”
John rounds on him. “I know what this is really about. You want to capitulate to the machines. Admit it.”
“If there’s a chance for peace…It could save millions, John.”
John rounds on him. “Maybe you haven’t noticed, but we’re only alive because I was willing to make sacrifices…millions of them…and I’ll make millions more if it means that that thing is blown to bits.” His expression softens. “I’m sorry, but there are things you don’t know…things nobody knows. Skynet cannot escape…must not escape…and nothing is going to convince me otherwise. Not Skynet, not a few dozen collaborators…not even you.”
He continues walking, moving toward the command tent. Kyle moves with him, whispering urgently. “Give me two men and thirty minutes. That’s all I ask.”
John strides into the tent. A dark woman is busy directing the triage operations, leaving the two men a moment of quiet. Before them is a technical plan of the Cheyenne Mountain Complex. John points to a grid of passages on the map that look almost like a tic-tac-toe board. “This is where the hostages are likely to be held, behind two fifty-thousand pound blast doors and surrounded by Endoskeletons. There’s no way in.”
Kyle gives John a level stare. “Not from what I’ve heard.”
John ignores him. “Besides, I won’t order a suicide mission.”
“You won’t have to. I volunteer. And I bet Russ and Giles would too.” John starts despite himself. Kyle continues, his voice low. “Let me do this, John. You know the way in.” John stares at the Sergeant, his expression suddenly far away. Kyle waits for the man. “Tell me I’m wrong, sir.” John closes his tired eyes, then looks up at the tent fabric of the roof.
The woman returns from her task. “I have word from Tech-Com that they’ll be ready at oh-nine-hundred. Should we execute?”
John hesitates, sighing. He straightens, addressing her. “No, wait for my order. Focus on triage and cleanup. Leave the tanks and heavy equipment. I want the soldiers pulled back to minimum safe distance and ready to move out at a moment’s notice.” He glances back at Kyle, gesturing down to the map. He puts a finger on a small tunnel to the left of the North portal. “That’s an exhaust tunnel. Leads a few hundred meters directly to the living quarters, plus or minus a two-inch-thick steel plate.” He pauses. “Keep in mind, that’s old intel. Even odds the machines have changed the layout since then.”
Kyle grins. “I’ll take those odds.”
John gives him a stern glance. “No matter what, at oh-nine-thirty, we’re bringing this mountain down.”
Kyle gives John a quick salute. Connor waves the Sergeant away. “Give Russ and Giles my regards.”
“Yes sir.”
Skynet Headquarters
Slender white featureless robots march down the line of cells, people being evicted from their spartan homes in a model of efficient operation. Robots stop at the door of Ian’s cell. A flat voice emerges from the cone like head of the robot. “Proceed to section One-B with the others.”
The boy gets up, questioning. “One-B? That isn’t…”
The old man is rising to his feet, an argument on his lips. “Wait, the boy comes with me.”
A pair of Endoskeletons arrive at the door of the old man. The featureless robot speaks again. “Tagawa will accompany these units to level five.” The Endoskeletons enter the cell, approaching the old man.
He sputters. “The boy must come with me. That was the deal!”
The robots are expressionless, grabbing hold of Tagawa and forcing him out of his cell. He protests. “This is a violation of our agreement! I won’t cooperate!”
As if in response to this, one of the Endos raises its metal hand. There is a device within it, a small pointed chrome cylinder that looks almost like a long needle. With a swift calculated movement, the Endo slams the needle into the base of the old man’s skull. The man cries out in pain, a pitiful wail that echoes within the cell. He goes limp and the two Endos drag him out the door.
The boy races to the front of the cell. “Mishi!” He tries to follow the old man but the slender robot holds him back. “Proceed to section One-B with the others.” It forces him into line with the other prisoners shuffling in the opposite direction. The boy casts one final glance over his shoulder at the small form of Tagawa being led away by the hulking metal monsters.
Tagawa tries to look back at the boy, their cells, but as he watches he sees hatches open in the ceilings of each cell and instruments descend. With a flash, the instruments light up, a gout of flame spewing from the nozzle of each one and engulfing the cells in flames. The prisoners continue to march down the corridor, now flanked on either side by the fires of their burning abodes.
Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado
Sergeant Reese and the other two Resistance soldiers quickly outfit themselves with tools befitting their task: A dozen handheld EMP grenades and a few conventional ones, concealable plasma guns good for only a few shots, laser cutters, a portable hacking terminal, and a large plasma rifle with an unusual set of attachments.
The exhaust tunnel is covered by a thick metal grille which falls quickly to purloined 2029 Skynet technology, and then the three men are inside the cramped metal tube shuffling forward on hands and knees ever deeper into one of the most secure installations on Earth. Kyle leads the party, while in back, Giles grumbles to himself.
“We should’ve just let Sarah do her job. This risks the entire offensive.”
Kyle turns his head to glare at Giles, his headlamp flashing in the dark. “How are these people any different than us? Besides, they may have intel on classified projects. We can’t just leave them to die.”
Giles continues grumbling. “Of course it would be you wanting to save these traitors. You’re as compromised as they are.”
“Can it, Giles.”
Giles flashes the Sergeant a dour look, but doesn’t speak again.
Skynet Headquarters
Inside the mountain, the line of captives emerges into a large, abandoned room. Old computer monitors gather dust on tables and disconnected television screens line the walls. This is the missile warning center of NORAD, unused since August 1997. The boy squints in the dim and flickering halogen lights and almost trips over an old wastepaper basket. He looks down at the wastepaper basket, noticing that some of the papers within it are printouts with latitude and longitude markings. “FALSE ALARM” is scrawled on one of them in red pen. He glances over at a desk, where similar sheets of paper still lie. On none of them does he see those words repeated.
The boy looks up from the desks or papers to focus on the featureless robots guarding the doors to the room as more and more confused and frightened captives are ushered inside.
Another voice pipes up within the crowd, shouting at their faceless captors. “What the hell is this, huh? What’s going on?”
One robot turns slightly. “This is the most secure location in this facility. You will be safe here.”
The man looks unconvinced. “Safe? Against Connor’s men? Why aren’t we being evacuated?”
The robot doesn’t respond. The last groups of people file into the room, and the doors are closed. The boy looks over at an old woman who looks like she’s doing math. She mutters to herself. “I haven’t heard any more explosions in at least ten minutes. That indicates that either the attack has failed…or…”
Ian looks over at the woman. “Or what?”
She looks up, unwilling or afraid to answer.
Within the cramped exhaust tunnel, Kyle continues pushing forward. Presently he comes to a widened section with several branches, and he takes one of the branches for a meter. There the section ends in another grille. He peers down. Below him is a large tunnel filled with abandoned Skynet ground vehicles, tanks, armored cars. Shifting his position, he can just see a large closed blast door set into the side of the tunnel to his left. He moves back into the main space. His two comrades join him, Russ whispering a question.
“What’s down there?”
“We’re in the main tunnel. The blast door is just below and ahead.”
The group moves forward again, this time able to move at a crouch instead of a crawl. Suddenly they come upon a sheer black wall blocking the tunnel. Kyle runs his hands along it. “Damn. I hoped they would forget about this.”
Giles snorts. “Well they can’t say we didn’t try.” He begins to move back down the tunnel, but Kyle isn’t moving. Instead he holds out a hand. “Russ, rifle.”
Russ hands over the large Skynet plasma rifle with the strange attachments. Giles curses quietly behind him. “Reese, it’s time we don’t have.”
Reese is busy with the gun. He extends three telescoping legs from equidistant points around the gun, affixing it to the sides and roof of the tunnel so that the gun is secured in the center of the space. Then he attaches an apparatus to the front of the gun and sets the gun to continual fire, setting the timer.
“Move back, both of you.” Russ moves back, allowing Kyle room to retreat away from the gun. With a low hum, the gun begins to fire. The apparatus at the top of the gun begins to spin, and mirrors on the device reflect the plasma energy and circumscribe an area of the blank wall. As the device rotates, a circular area of the wall begins to glow red as the beam slices into it.
Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado
Back at basecamp, John is directing cleanup operations. Cars full of wounded men and women make their way back out of the hole blasted in the wall, and teams work to cut and stow every piece of Skynet equipment that they can carry.
A soldier wearing a headset runs into John’s tent and throws him a quick salute. John waves him over. “What is it?”
The man is out of breath. “Sorry, sir, but we’ve picked up movement to the west on radar. Forty clicks, moving fast.”
John clenches a fist on the table. “That will be Skynet reinforcements, come to retrieve their master. What’s the time frame?”
“Fifteen minutes, maybe less.”
John looks back out of the tent at the dark mountain face beyond. “Then let’s hope Reese is on his way out.”
Skynet Headquarters
The circle of steel falls inward with a heavy clang, its edges glowing red. After a moment Reese moves forward, disassembling the cutting tool and reverting it back to a normal Skynet rifle. Gingerly he crawls over the still glowing edges of the hole and into the next chamber, followed by Russ and Giles.
After moving forward a few meters, he reaches a section of flooring that echoes hollowly as he steps on it. There is a hinged section of sheet metal on the floor and he slowly opens it, revealing the metal rungs of a ladder set into a concrete wall. He checks the area, noting that it seems free of machines. Motioning to his men, he descends the ladder, rifle over his back.
The three men emerge from the ventilation system into a massive cave. To their left and rising above them is the vaulted ceiling of the subterranean space. Filling this space are buildings three stories tall, rising almost to the level of the roof and supported by great coiled springs designed to absorb the shock of a nuclear blast. One building extends close to the cavern wall at their right, the location of one of the huge blast doors.
The shadows in this place are severe, casting some areas into almost total darkness. Kyle motions to the monumental blast door. “We’ll need to get that open if we’re to make a speedy escape.” Russ nods, taking the hacking terminal and moving into the deep shadows beside the door to plug in.
Giles and Reese continue onward into the darkness. Red lights move in the darkness, the roving eyes of Endoskeletons sensing in infrared. The two men move out and race behind the corner of a building just as an Endo rounds the corner. Sensing nothing, it continues on its patrol. Giles whispers to Kyle. “Where to?” Kyle consults a crumpled map in the light of his headset. He points to an area at the rear of the complex. “This is the most likely area for a containment. If the original structures remain, that would be section B1.”
The duo moves out, racing along the side of the buildings deeper into the mountain stronghold, dodging Endo patrols. The buildings are arranged in a simple grid, with hubs at each intersection of the cave system connected by enclosed hallways so that those within the buildings need never see the bare rock of the cavern outside.
The men finally reache the deepest chamber of the cavern, housing a large building several stories high. Giles asks the inevitable question.
“How do we find them?”
In response, Kyle pulls out an infrared detector and starts scanning the walls of the building, moving away from safety to get a better angle.
An Endoskeleton marches on its rounds in the darkness, scanning the great cavern. Its eyes detect movement and it breaks away from its patrol route to investigate. It rounds a corner an sees a man with an instrument in his hand scanning the building. The Endo raises its weapon to fire, but just then something rounds the corner and the Endo’s vision goes dark.
The metal body crashes to the ground, the sound ringing off of the buildings and echoing around the cavern. Giles backs up, the plasma gun in his hand now at half charge. “Well, we’ve rung the doorbell now. Kyle, do you have them?”
The wiry man is finally able to see a group of heat signatures in the lowest level of the last building near the far wall. “Yes! The C4. Now!”
Within the missile warning center, there is sudden movement as the faceless robots turn and exit the room. The vocal man gets up from where he was sitting on a desk. “Hey, what’s going on? Wait!” His protestations are ignored by machine and human alike.
Ian and woman glance at each other. The boy gestures to the back wall of the room and whispers at her. “I think I heard something out there.”
The woman leans closer. “Where?”
“In the cavern.” The boy goes over to the far wall, away from the doors. “It came from here.” The woman begins to follow him, but then turns at the sound of shouts at the front of the room.
A group of clean metal Endoskeletons files into the room, plasma rifles in their hands. The vocal man continues his stream of questions.
“What the hell is going on?”
The machines raise their weapons.
“As senior technician, I demand…”
The rest of his demand is cut short as a burst of purple light lances through the man, sending him flying over the desk to lie smoking on the floor. Instantly there are screams and pandemonium as the machines open fire on the unarmed crowd.
Ian and the woman race to the back wall as people rush to get out of the way. Despite the clamor and the gunfire, something catches his attention. He stares at the wall, shouting at the woman. “I think I heard someone shouting!”
“Obviously.”
“No, from outside. It sounded like ‘Get back’!”
The woman lunges toward her mousey companion. “Get back!”
She pulls Ian away from the wall, which explodes inward and crashes to the ground, narrowly missing several screaming captives. An EMP grenade flies through the air, detonating halfway through the room and shorting out the Endos and their weapons. They fall senseless to the ground.
Through the smoking hole in the wall, Sergeant Reese leaps up, standing with his plasma rifle held high, ready to take out any machines that survived the EMP. He sees movement in the hallway beyond; more Endos are appearing to take the place of their fallen brethren. Reese waves an arm at the momentarily shellshocked captives staring dumbly at their rescuer and shouts a command. “This is a rescue! Move!”
The captives surge into motion, rushing past him and leaping down to the cave floor. Giles reaches out to help those who are struggling. Kyle fires off several more warning shots to the Endos then leaps down to the cave floor, dodging return fire, and makes good their retreat.
The sound of laser fire echoes off the high walls of the cavern complex, mingled with the shouts and screams of men, women, and children. A small girl stumbles on the uneven ground and falls behind, but Kyle is in the rearguard and scoops her up as he runs, firing wildly behind him at the relentless pursuers.
Ian runs beside Kyle, shouting. “If this is a rescue, then you need to rescue Mishiko too!”
Kyle turns and blasts a following Endo. “Who’s that?”
The boy is panting with exertion. “Lead scientist…he knows everything. We can’t leave without him. They’re taking him to level five.”
Kyle glances at the boy, considering it. The boy continues. “They did something to him…put something in his head. I think they’re gonna kill him.”
Kyle’s eyes go wide. “There’s no time. The machines will want him alive…for now. The same can’t be said for us.”
In the shadow of the blast door, Russ is in trouble. An endless series of numbers scrolls down the monitor of his portable computer terminal but none of them unlock the door. He shouts at the approaching mass of people.
“It’s not working! I can’t get it open!”
The captives reach the closed door and turn in panic. Endoskeletons appear from left and right around the corners of the nearest building, guns blazing. Kyle throws another EMP grenade and takes them out, but the clank of reinforcements continues to echo throughout the cave.
Ian makes for the door. Kyle follows him.
“Do you know the code?” Kyle asks the boy.
“Mishi wrote a maintenance workaround.” He looks around. “I entered it here, but we need to enter the same code on the other side of the door for it to work.”
Kyle stares around the room in rising panic. “Through the vent.” He and the boy note the small hole that Kyle’s team arrived through, and both of them know what to do. Kyle turns to Russ. “Hold them here.” The man nods and they begin climbing, entering the small tunnel.
In the tunnel outside the blast door, a flimsy metal grate falls from the ceiling and lands with a clatter on the concrete floor at the feet of an Endo. It looks up with something approaching confusion as the blast of a laser pistol strikes it in the head, lighting up the interior of its chrome skull. It remains standing, its eyes dead. Kyle leaps to the ground behind it and holds out his arms as Ian lands heavily in them with a grunt. Kyle sets the boy lightly on the ground and the boy makes for the panel beside the door. Kyle moves quickly over to the abandoned Skynet vehicles parked within the tunnel.
Ian taps a five character sequence into the pad beside the door. Within the cavern, men and women fall left and right as Skynet’s forces close in. Russ throws a conventional grenade, his rifle spent.
The mechanism within the door moves, the bars retracting and the massive slab of metal swinging slowly outward on well-balanced hinges. The desperate survivors, now only a dozen in number, rush the door, squeezing through the widening gap as ever more of them fall to the machines. Russ remains to the end, hoisting his last grenade. He leaps through the door, practically running into Ian on the other side. Everyone races for the armored vehicle, Kyle at the controls.
The vehicle’s electric motor whines in protest as Kyle slams the accelerator and sends the vehicle careening down the curving tunnel toward the north portal, scraping against the wall to avoid the Skynet tanks and taking hits from Endos exiting from the smoking mouth of the cavern.
Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado
The command post has moved back beyond the outer perimeter of the mountain fortress, John at the center of a flurry of activity as reports come in and he directs pullback operations. A woman at a radio calls out. “We’ve got line of sight…bogeys to the west…ten o-clock!”
John’s binoculars swing to position. In the distance and approaching fast are a squadron of Skynet Hunter Killer aircraft. John shouts into his headset. “Chen, you are go for intercept!” He swings the binoculars back to the mountain where three helicopters are holding in front of the mountain. They break away from the mountain and fly toward the approaching threat.
The woman calls out from her station. “Connor, we need to send Sarah in now!”
John’s binoculars focus on the north portal, a distant dark hole in the mountainside. “Not until Reese is clear.”
There is a shout and the woman points at the side of the mountain. “Look! The doors!” Indeed, visible to all, the huge doors high up on the mountain are slowly irising open. The woman moves to John’s side, hissing in his ear. “Sir! It’s either Reese or the war.”
John doesn’t move, his binoculars still focused on the small hole at the base of the mountain. Suddenly there is a burst of smoke from the portal and a silver car flies out of the opening followed by two more, firing lasers and trying to get target lock on the lead vehicle.
John’s command is calm. “Retrieve Sarah.”
The woman stares at him. “But sir!”
John shifts his attention to Reese’s vehicle. “Skynet wins this one. Cover that vehicle’s retreat. Now.”
The door on the side of the mountain is fully open. a large silver aircraft emerges from the darkness within, flanked by a squadron of Hunter Killers. Lasers fire at the aircraft from ground and sky, but the chrome finish of the craft deflects the shots. Missiles fly, but the flanking aircraft target them down.
The armored car careens down the slope of the mountain, silver vehicles in hot pursuit. Connor’s air wing breaks off from chasing planes and moves to covering Reese’s retreat. A missile flies down and blasts the chasing vehicles, which detonate in an enormous explosion.
Kyle’s armored car rises, the shockwave picking up the rear of the vehicle and shoving it forward. Kyle’s vehicle slams back down to earth and it flies forward out of the fortress’s defenses, rolling down the hill out of control where it finally comes to rest on its roof.
The large Skynet aircraft convenes with its reinforcements and the squadron departs the field. The woman relays a report. “Skynet has escaped, heading west. We’re trying to determine a probable destination…” Her voice fades into the background. John’s binoculars are focused on the overturned vehicle at the mountain’s foot. He speaks over the woman. “Send a retrieval squad to the breach point. I want everything we have in the air by oh-ten-thirty, headed for Los Angeles.”
The woman moves to implement his orders, then turns back. “Why Los Angeles?”
John closes his eyes. “Just call it a hunch.” He puts down the binoculars and raises the detonator that was lying on the table in front of him. He flicks a switch on the side of it, and the bomb is deactivated.
Within the wreck of the armored vehicle, there is a slamming and banging. The side of the vehicle falls outward, revealing battered and bruised humans who spill out, groaning in pain. Ian lies there on the ground, staring up at the cloudy sky. There is a break in the clouds above him and a star twinkles down. He gazes up at it, marveling at the sight as the sound of approaching vehicles and shouting voices fades into the overwhelmed noise in his mind. He is dimly aware of being bound in handcuffs and carried away.
Los Angeles
A snuffling sound intrudes on Emma’s consciousness, followed by the feel of a wet tongue on her face. She screws up her face and tries to turn away from the assault, but a sharp pain in her arm makes her cry out and she stops moving. She reaches with her withered limb and feels a bandage on her upper arm.
She opens her eyes. A brindled mutt is investigating her, licking at the dried blood and dirt still caking her cheeks. A hand swoops in and pulls the dog away. “Pronto, no! Leave her alone.” The dog turns and retreats, replaced by the figure of Cassie who sits on the side of Emma’s cot with a cloth and begins wiping away the dog drool and remaining filth.
“Why did you do it, Em? You know I couldn’t take it if…” She lets the sentence hang in the air. “We made a promise to each other, remember? We…what?”
Emma is staring straight ahead, seemingly oblivious to Cassie’s words. They are in a small cavern alcove carved out of the earth containing two small cots. A curtain separates the alcove from the rest of the cave. Her eyes gradually focus on Cassie and she seems to come back to herself. “Cass, the kid. Did he make it? I thought I saw…oh god.” The remembrance makes her eyes go wide and she tries to sit up. “He’s dead, isn’t he?”
Cassie tries to push her back down onto the cot. “Yes. He’s dead. And you almost joined him. A little higher, and…” She trails off again. Emma tries to get up again, but Cassie is firm. “You can’t go taking risks like that. Pete stitched your arm up pretty good, but you shouldn’t go exerting yourself. We’ll be moving again soon, so get some rest while you can.” She rises from the cot and turns to go.
Emma reaches out and grabs her hand. “Leaving? Where?”
Cassie sinks down onto the cot again. “North. The machines know we’re in the area. They’ll be sweeping this whole ridge. We have to get out.”
Emma shakes her head, as if trying to dislodge something. “No…no. We need to go south. Down…into the city.”
Cassie puts a hand on Emma’s forehead. “You’re not making any sense. Rest. We’ll talk later.”
She rises to go, but Emma rises and tries to follow her, then swoons and has to sit back down. “You need to listen to me. I’m going downtown, and I’m going tonight.”
Cassie doesn’t move. There is motion in the room beyond, and a mustachioed man pulls back the curtain and peeks his head into the earthen alcove. “Should we try and take the generator?” Cassie turns and shakes her head. “No, it will just slow us down. I’ll be there in a minute.” The man gives Emma a reassuring smile and disappears back through the curtain.
Emma rises slowly to her feet once more, and this time remains standing. “Cassie, I need to talk to everyone.” Cassie takes Emma’s hand. “Em, please. We can talk about this later…”
“We’ll talk about it now. Call a meeting.”
Colorado
“A meeting?” John Connor is in the cockpit of a large Skynet troop transport, heavily modified by the Resistance to conform to human standards, busy with the preflight checklist. Kyle Reese fills the narrow doorway, his hand on the lintel.
“That’s right. Fritz wants to speak to you in private. Wants to go with us to L.A.” Something jingles in Kyle’s other hand, and John notices that it is a pair of handcuffs.
“I take it you’ve rescinded my order concerning POWs?”
“They’re victims, John, not prisoners. Besides, they’ve been cleared. No tricks.”
John looks as if he’s about to argue, but turns back to the checklist instead. “I’ve got an army to get in the air, Reese. I trust you to handle the debriefings. Anything Fritz would say to me he can say to you.”
Kyle steps fully into the cockpit, closing the door behind him for privacy. “This is above my clearance level.” John turns, interest piqued. Kyle continues. “Fritz was an assistant to Mishiko Tagawa, a scientist. The machines took him captive.” Reese moves closer, lowering his voice. “They put something in Tagawa’s head. I think this is another…incident.”
The scarred man hesitates a moment, then speaks into his headset. “This is Connor. We’ll need a captain for Air Force One…over.” He gestures for Kyle to open the cockpit door and strides down the corridor toward the cargo bay as another uniformed soldier takes his place in the cockpit.
Connor and Reese move through the crew cabins and conference rooms and emerge into a large space with two dozen utilitarian seats lining the curving walls. Occupying one row of seats are the survivors from the Cheyanne mountain rescue, looking tired and bruised but otherwise alive. All of them look pale, as if they haven’t seen the sky in years, but the small youth at the end of the row is the palest and smallest of them all. He’s busy petting Max, who is stoically enduring the boy’s affections.
The boy looks up and the smile leaves his face as he sees Connor. At the sight of his master, Max leaves Fritz and trots over to stand by John’s side. John speaks quietly to Kyle. “The kid?”
Kyle nods. John gestures to the other survivors. “What about them?”
Kyle points to each one in turn. “Let’s see, she was involved in high-power energy storage…he’s a materials scientist…that one says he was working on the latest Terminator project, in a limited capacity…we have engineers, programmers…and all their work so compartmentalized that their intel is practically useless.”
John considers the group of pale survivors. “Let’s take the kid up on his offer. Keep the rest of the prisoners…” Kyle gives him a hard look and he amends himself “…the…victims…on the ground with General Pierce for full debriefing.” He glances at Kyle. “But I want a full report of their intel transmitted to me before we hit the LA jamming field.” He then motions for Ian to come with him as he opens the conference room door. He speaks into his headset. “This is John Connor. All Tech-Com officers, report to Air Force One. Liftoff in five. Over.” The boy glances up at John, startled. John fixes him with a penetrating stare. “I think everyone should hear what you have to say.” He nudges the boy into the conference room. Kyle follows, giving John a dark look.
On the airfield below the smoking remains of SAC-NORAD, final loading is underway. A convoy of trucks and cars remains behind with the wounded, the survivors of the mountain among them. Soldiers rush to board their planes and the entire army begins to rise into the air with a whine of engines and the beat of propellers in the cloud-laden night. The huge bulk of the Skynet troop carrier lifts off as well, and John Connor’s Resistance army disappears into the clouds.
Los Angeles
The central room of the cave is small. A single hurricane lantern sits on the round wooden table in the middle of the room, casting its flickering glow over a dozen dirty faces clustered closely around. Emma looks into the faces of those gathered. There are three old men, six women of various ages including Emma and Cassie, and three children; two girls and a boy. She looks down at the table, gathering her thoughts.
“Just after sunset, while Cass and I were on watch, I saw something…an…electrical… phenomenon I can’t explain. There was lightning, then a ball of light appeared above the stage.”
One of the men speaks up. “Ball lightning? I think I saw that once, running along the power lines in the hills.”
Emma shakes her head. “It didn’t look natural to me. But whatever it was, something came out of that ball of light…or rather, someone…a Resistance soldier named Ian Fritz.”
Heads turn to Cassie, who is sitting at the opposite side of the table from Emma. A large woman in suspenders leans toward her. “Didja see any of this?”
Cassie looks uncomfortable. “No. But whatever happened damaged the structure…it cut right through the steel supports and collapsed the stage on top of Em and the kid. That brought the tank down on them. They ran out in separate directions, to divide its fire. Em got away…barely. The kid wasn’t so lucky.”
Emma glances around the group, then continues. “The kid…Ian Fritz…he only said a few things to me before…” She swallows, continues. “He asked me what day it was…I told him it was the 10th of July. He said that he needed to get downtown by dawn. He told me that…that Skynet would be there…and John Connor.” She puts a hand to her temple.
The table erupts into muttering and side conversations. A woman blurts out “The John Connor?”
A small mustachioed man shakes his head. “I thought Connor was in Colorado. Some big offensive, so the talk box said, trying to kill Skynet. Why come here?”
A small white haired woman speaks up. “It’s because he’s on a vendetta.” She leans forward conspiratorially. “Skynet wants peace, but John won’t stop until Skynet’s big brain is smashed to bits. And his fanatics in the Resistance won’t talk back.”
The larger woman shakes her head at that. “That’s machine propaganda. Connor’s said many times that Skynet won’t stop the war until every human is dead…that’s just how it’s programmed. All this talk of peace is just to set us against each other. And anyway, that’s all half a continent away. None of our business.”
Emma speaks up. “No. Skynet will be here…and Connor will follow. He will attack Skynet’s final stronghold just before dawn…and Skynet will surrender. But he will destroy it anyway…and the war will not end. That’s what the kid said. He said he has to be there…to end the war.”
More murmurs break out. The white-haired woman interjects. “How do we know that this kid isn’t one of them? Arriving in a lightning ball, with a message of doom. Sounds like a machine trick to me.”
Emma shrinks back in her seat, the conversation getting away from her, but Cassie comes to her rescue. “Why go to all the trouble? And why blow up one of their own?”
Emma’s expression softens. “Thanks Cass.” Her expression turns inward again.
A boy of seven pipes up. “I’m with you, Em. I will fight for John Connor. Let’s smash some machines.”
Emma smiles sadly at the kid, and the large woman grabs him by the arm. “You will do no such thing, Tyrese. I promised your father I would keep you safe.” She glances up from her admonishment. “Even if what you say is true, what can we do? We don’t have any intel. Who would believe us?’
Emma speaks up. “We have the name Ian Fritz. We know that Connor’s plan has to change. Maybe that will be enough.”
There are shaking heads all around the table. The large woman hugs one of the children to her. “In any case, the kids need protecting. I’m going north with Pete…” she nods at the mustachioed man who nods back. “…And if you’re wise you’d all do the same. What did Connor ever do for us?”
Cassie speaks up. “He saved us.” She taps the faded red barcode on her arm, one shared by many of the older individuals in the circle. “He pulled humanity back from the brink. We owe him for that, at least.”
The man and women cast their eyes down. The man speaks up. “Downtown is crawling with machines. They have laser targeting, infrared, drones. We wouldn’t make it a mile.”
The large woman speaks. “We’re not Resistance. We’re not soldiers. We have no weapons to fight them, no training. This is not our fight.”
The muttering starts again, plans being made for heading north. Emma stares at Cassie, a pleading look in her eyes. Cassie seems to be fighting a battle within herself. Words spill out, spoken so softly they may only be for herself. “I can’t go back there, Em. I won’t.”
Emma searches the faces of the others, looking for allies. “Please…Pete, Hannah, you know the city. Come with me.”
The large woman shakes her head. “How does this kid know that Connor’s attack will fail? Did he say anything else to you at all before he got himself splattered?” She glares at Emma.
Emma sighs. “He said something about…time displacement.”
Cassie fixes Emma with a strange look. “Time displacement? Like time travel?”
Shouts of derision erupt from around the table. Several people turn away, continuing to pack. Emma casts a look over the dissipating group. “I’m sure I misheard him.” In a small voice, almost to herself, she continues. “Please…what I saw tonight…I can’t explain it….” Her eyes settle on Cassie. She places her good hand on the table. “…I will go alone, Cass…if I have to.”
A change seems to have come over Cassie. The careworn woman reaches across the table, taking Emma’s outstretched hand. “You won’t have to.” Emma smiles, the tension finally released from her body.
Heads turn in astonishment, the group quiet for a moment. Cassie stands and looks around at the group, her eyes settling on Pete. “Take the bike.” The man looks like he’s about to protest, but she shakes her head. “Silence will be more important to us than speed. Take it, and if you change your mind, you know where to find us.”
The man gives the woman a hug, his eyes on Emma. “Spirits protect you.”
Cassie breaks away from the embrace and addresses Hannah. “Head north and protect the kids.” She looks back at Emma. “We’re headed south.”
There is a moment of silence, broken only by a noise that sounds almost like the crying of a human child from somewhere outside the cave. The dog goes to Emma and whines, and she pets it between the ears. “Oh Pronto, it’s just Coyote laughing at the moon.” She leans down to address the canine properly. “I want you to go with the others now, okay? Be a good boy.” The dog growls at her, and she frowns. “It’s not that bad, is it?” He continues to growl, his nose pointed toward the passage leading from the central chamber.
Tension rushes back into the room as everyone goes on high alert. Emma looks sharply toward the passage. “Terminators!” There is a rush for the packs of supplies lying around the edges of the room while a small group remains around the table speaking in hurried, hushed tones. The tall man leans forward.
“We’ll go out the back. Hannah, take the kids on the hidden path north, I’ll meet you at the lookout. Cass…” He looks at her with something approaching pity, his plea unspoken. He holds out an antique pistol.
She accepts the gift and secures in her belt. “Thanks, Nils. And don’t worry about us. Just survive.”
The rest of the humans have retreated through a passage in the rear of the room. Emma and Cassie follow them, only one pack of supplies between them. Nils scans the room, checking to see if anything was missed. He sees that the hurricane lamp is still on the table and he goes to pick it up. At that moment there is an explosion and a burst of light, streaking across the room and smashing the lamp. The room is plunged into darkness, illuminated only by a dimly burning streak of lamp oil on the wooden table and two red eyes approaching in the darkness.
Nils is trapped on the wrong side of the room, his only escape blocked by the creature with the glowing eyes. With a cry he heaves the table up on end, trying to put something between himself and the Endoskeleton. The creature opens fire, destroying the table in a shower of splinters and ash as Nils makes his move. He dives across the room and through the curtain into the escape tunnel, crying out in pain as the creature fires at his retreating body and scores a hit on his leg.
Within the tunnel, Cassie and Emma are waiting, and they drag a protesting Nils to the opening. He gasps, clutching his leg. “I’m no good like this. Leave me.” The women glance at each other, unwilling to let go. He shouts at them. “Go! Now!” He grabs the metal outer door of the tunnel, forcing it from the pegs securing it in the earth. He holds the metal door like a shield and moves back into the tunnel, dragging his injured leg behind him as he roars out his last command. “Find John Connor! Save the world!” Purple light flashes in the tunnel, burning holes in the shield, but the man continues moving forward, smashing into the machine with his full weight even as he is riddled with holes.
The two women tear themselves away, emerging into the a land of low trees and scrub. Above them is the ridge of a hill, and below them the hill descends into a forested valley. There is no trace of any other human. They make their way downhill into the trees. On the other side of the ridge there is the sound of whining metal and jet engines, and an aerial Hunter Killer drone emerges over the ridge, its spotlights scanning the ground below. The women are still in the open, making for the trees.
A searchlight goes forth, locking on to movement on the women’s left. They see the lithe canine form of a coyote racing down the hill away from the women, making for the forest as well. The searchlight locks onto the beast’s movement and follows it, allowing the women time to reach the treeline.
The women cower behind a tree as the spotlight rakes the forest around them, then passes on. The machine passes away west, and the two women continue downhill, following a game trail. Presently, the forest falls away on their right as they pass across a cliff, and they can see spreading out below them the low hills and valleys of Los Angeles. There is the destroyed Hollywood Bowl below them, and beyond that is the vast destruction of the city, crawling with the searchlights and lasers of the machines. And beyond all of those crawling engines of death is a line of blue lights glowing dimly in the hazy distance, the electrified fences and guarded walls of a massive facility, its central complex rising above the shattered skyscrapers of the post apocalyptic metropolis.
Emma regards this distant constellation of blue light on the horizon from her elevated position, catching her breath. Cassie pulls a small flask from a pocket and takes a swig, wiping sweat from her forehead and handing the flask to Cassie. The older woman eyes the younger one as she takes the proffered flask. “What is it?” She follows Emma’s gaze to the structure.
“Time travel.” She laughs to herself. “I should learn to stop talking when I’m behind. It’s like something out of one of your old movies.” She shakes her head. “Gotta be serious head trauma talking.”
Emma moves off through the brush, but Cassie stands on the ridge a moment longer, her gaze intent on the mysterious glowing structure.