Disclaimer: Before I write anything else, we all already know but I'll say it anyway. I have no rights or connection financial, creative or otherwise to any of the Terminator franchise or any of the characters. Original characters are mine. Whew! Always feel better once that's out of the way. This one's been rolling around in my head for a while now. Think I'll let it out. It's kind of creepy with it being all alone up there.
The Importance of Being Protein
Chapter 1 – "I Don't Want to Kiss You Either"
The heavy steel door groaned open, creaky from ill use. Colonel Anthony Barnes squinted to block out the stabbing light. The outline of a man interrupted the angled rays pouring thru the widening aperture. It had been so grossly dark inside the cell that any light at all beat a tattoo on his eyeballs. Gradually his offended vision was able to discern the distinctive form of Marcus Wright, grinning with satisfaction at the sight of Barnes, hands and feet bound to the metal wall. Smoke wafted about in the hallway, framing the one person Barnes had not been expecting to see.
"Now isn't this just a sight for sore eyes?" Marcus commented with dark humor.
"I got nothing to say to you" the captive growled, foul mood multiplied by the identity of his visitor. The Colonel turned his head away, focusing on a corner of the dank cell, embarrassed by his thoughts of moments earlier.
"Well," Marcus returned, "you might want to think of something Sparky, cause right now" the ex con went on dryly "I'm the only one willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. Ain't that a kick in the head?"
"I didn't do it!" Barnes protested fiercely, full of angry denial. "You believe I'm innocent?"
Wright laughed cynically. "I didn't say I thought you were innocent. I said I thought you may not be guilty. It's not the same thing. Trust me" he whispered with a crooked devilish smirk, "I'm in a position to know the difference. Brace yourself and don't yell. Losing these chains is going to be more than a little painful. I'm an expert on that too."
After giving the warning, Marcus took the base of one of Barnes shackles in both his hands, put his right foot on the cold steel by the prisoner's side, took a breath and yanked hard. The restraints used to contain Barnes were as makeshift as the room he'd been confined in. Neither was designed to win a tug of war with cybernetic muscles. Protesting, the metal and riveting gave way and the chains broke free, dangling uselessly.
A muffled moan indicated Marcus had been correct. Barnes's chaffed wrist, still caught in the cuff, punished him for the change in position. Marcus freed the other arm in the same manner, eliciting a similar reaction. Applying sufficient force, the cuffs were soon in pieces. Wright dropped to one knee, making equally short work of the ankle chains.
"Ok sunshine, let's blow out of here" Marcus told his newly liberated companion.
"Why'd you come back?" Barnes wanted to know, after hastily throwing on the socks and boots Marcus brought with him. "You could have left me in there. We both know you really wanted to. I would have left you" he admitted plainly.
"Don't get carried away thanking me, Barnes. And I never left. I've been around you just didn't see me, neither did they. That was sort of what I intended" Marcus hissed sourly, hurrying on cat feet down the dim hallway ahead of Barnes. He gingerly eased his head around the corner, checking to make sure the passage ahead of them was empty. He saw no one. Better and better. "We're out of here, now! It's almost breakfast time, and if there was ever a meal you'd want pass on, it's this one. And that's not all you want to avoid." He gave a grisly laugh at Barnes bafflement. "I'll explain on the road. Your jury's going to be waking up anytime now. We'd better be long gone by the time they get that way. Now shut up and run."
TEN DAYS AGO…
"This is the third platoon to disappear in that area in six months sir. And these aren't combat losses General. This isn't Skynet's doing. One day we're in contact and they're transmitting position and status per procedure. By next check in they're gone, totally off the map with no indication of how or why. No ops reports; no calls for help, nothing. No thing. It's like our people are getting sucked into a vacuum. We have to come up with some kind of way of finding out what's befalling them."
Connor nodded grimly in agreement. Major David Perry counted as one of John Connor's most able and experienced combat commanders, giving his words that much more weight with the Resistance leader.
Though undersized by pre-Judgment Day standards, three platoons represented the loss of between forty-five and sixty fighting men and women, a loss Connor could ill afford.
"So what's your suggestion Perry?" Major Matt Garrison asked, "send in another platoon after 'em? 'Cause I recommend against that. We do that sir, we might as well write that one off too!"
Garrison and Perry were equal in rank and polar opposites in personality. Steady and confident, Perry led by example, trusting those under his command would follow. Garrison was a holdover from the old command tier. It worked out that he'd happened to be off ship when Skynet's H-K torpedoed the submarine harboring many of humanity's remaining military leaders. Evading the fate of his shipmates, Garrison eventually wound up slotted in as one of John Connor's adjutants, but he didn't only want that. Matt Garrison wanted farther up the command chain. To get there, he needed more of John Connor's ear and David Perry out of his way. Almost automatically (and sometimes just for the hell of it, Connor suspected) Garrison would come down on the opposite side of any opinion Perry expressed.
Thanks to Sarah Connor's relentless preparation her son was a keen judge of character. Matt Garrison didn't fool him for a second. Connor still assessed the man's words dispassionately. Garrison might remind him a sometimes a little too much of the late, mostly unlamented Colonel Olsen, but Connor kept him around anyway. Sometimes a bunion was valuable because it hurt. Besides, on rare occasions, even somebody like Garrison could have a point. Unfortunately, John reflected ruefully, this might be one of those times.
Connor wanted to find and stop whatever enemy had stalked and claimed his missing personnel, but found his reluctance to commit another group of fighters to the effort equally high.
"I do have an idea, sir" Perry said, refusing to be intimidated. "And I agree with Major Garrison. Sending in a large number isn't the answer. I suggest a small strike force, maybe even a two man team. That might be small enough to slip in under the radar-"
"Under the radar of what?" Garrison interrupted sarcastically, determined to score points. "You seem to be forgetting we have no idea what we're facing-"
"That's enough, Major Garrison" Connor declared flatly. He encouraged healthy debate, but nobody's ego got indulged at the expense of his soldiers. Besides, it never hurt to remind everybody where the buck stopped.
"Private Campbell" Connor called, summoning a young fighter, "Please track down Marcus Wright. Find Colonel Barnes too. Ask them both to report to the command bunker."
THREE DAYS AGO…
From his vantage point in the hills overlooking the city, Marcus Wright viewed the burnt paper remains of Las Vegas. A wicked sense of déjà vu possessed him.
…Stepping out from behind the tattered remnants of the HOLLYWOOD sign perched atop Mount Lee, Marcus stared down at the panorama of destruction. The hollow silence chilled him. There were no sounds, no people…no life. L.A. was shriveled and dead as if hammered by the sulfuric wrath of a remorseless god. This latest shock threatened to send him fleeing back across the endless desert to pour his body back into the black hole from which he'd arisen during last night's storm. Everything about this bizarre new existence stupefied him. What madness had struck down the world? Had this devastation been universal? Why did he continue? Or did he? Was he alive or caught in the throes of some afterlife phantasm? Maybe this was Hell, or at least his own personal version. Only one way to find out for sure. He started his descent…
"Let's keep moving" Barnes said, catching up to and passing Marcus after completing his radio check in. "We need to get under cover before nightfall."
They made the outer rim of the city around sunset. Within shouting distance of Nellis AFB, Vegas suffered a virtual direct hit on Judgment Day. The glittering hotel casinos and rivers of neon comprising the gambling mecca melted into slag in the space of a few horrifying minutes. One armed bandit junkies with their coated plastic cups full of quarters, gaudily attired showgirls and families on a once in a lifetime vacation all died before they knew what hit 'em. The roiling mass of superheated air, flame and radiation bore down on the town, sparing many a loser in denial from ever having to pay up. Here and there, the lucky schmuck on a winning streak would never get to cash in. The party was over in an instant as the steel girders which formed the skeletons of the towering glass temples folded in on themselves, entombing their occupants once and for all. The ultimate crap out. Only this time, the house didn't win.
Much like his entry into L. A., Marcus found the going problematic in Las Vegas. He and Barnes had to deal with huge piles of rubble, bones, crushed dried out human husks, mountains of rusted cars and trucks, all the usual obstacles. This long afterward, people still mostly avoided the cities, suspicious that Skynet would seek them there. They were right to be cautious. Most of Nevada was back in human hands, controlled by the Resistance, but limited air power made it difficult to prevent all over flights by H-K's. The one time adult playground remained desolate, patrolled only by four legged residents and the desert wind howling in and out of the shells of blasted buildings.
Striding along warily, his shadow lengthened by the slowly disappearing sun, Marcus reluctantly acknowledged an unexpected sense of loss. He had his own personal connection to this place. Once, after a very profitable job, he'd experienced a memorable stopover in Vegas, gambling and screwing his way from one end of the Vegas strip to the other. Between the women, the high stakes poker and the small lake of expensive booze he'd consumed, he'd probably blown maybe 200 K. But it had been worth it, he remembered with an inward smile. Well worth it. Skynet's emotionless destruction depressed and angered him, and his hatred of the AI grew.
Mounds of shattered glass crunched underfoot as they moved into the guts of the wasted metropolis. Shells of buildings loomed over them, capturing and holding the fading light as the sun disappeared below the horizon.
"This is as good a place to stop as any" Barnes commented gruffly picking out a rough shelter for the night after giving it a careful visual inspection. Human bones littered the site, but that was pretty much unavoidable. Since neither he nor Marcus had any way of knowing for sure what else might be waiting, the two men entered cautiously. Barnes years of experience as a Marine and a Resistance fighter enabled him to move quietly; he admitted, though grudgingly, watching Wright, that there wasn't anything he could teach the other man about the art of stealth.
They settled on a spot within the hollow, largely roofless edifice as out of the wind as they could manage. "What's next? Where do we go from here?" Marcus asked.
"Our people came thru Vegas before they dropped out of sight. We trace their path. I'm gonna get some sleep" Barnes answered, promptly doing just that, pulling his cap down to shield his eyes and corking right off, blocking out Wright's presence.
Marcus let it go. A man of few words his own self he didn't miss the needless babble, 'specially since he and his traveling companion weren't exactly BFF's. He took a quick peruse of his night's lodging, able to see more than Barnes would have seen in the darkness.
Wonder what this was before JD? He speculated idly. Some kind of night club maybe, possibly a former "gentlemen's club" he considered, eyeing the half melted leavings of what appeared to be a stripper's pole coming up out of what remained of a stage. Hope whoever was on when the balloon went up had a bunch of fifty's stuffed into her G. That being his final thought, he closed his eyes and stretched out to get some shut-eye.
The damn machine was trying to kill him! Anthony Barnes awoke in near total blackness with one of Marcus Wright's hands wrapped around his windpipe and the other clamped across his mouth in an unbreakable grip. He could just barely breathe and could make no sound at all. Barnes clawed ferociously for his nearby sidearm, determined to die fighting for his life.
Bending close enough so his lips were almost touching Barnes's ear, Marcus whispered urgently. "Shut up and stop moving stupid! We have company! You're gonna bring it over here!"
With Marcus's face less than an inch from his Barnes could see the imperative in the burning blue eyes.
Once certain the other man understood how important it was that he not move too suddenly or make noise, Wright removed his hands. "It will hear you! Just be still!" Marcus said, barely audible.
Expectin or 800, Barnes moved oh so slowly into a sitting position only to discover the "it" Wright referred to was no terminator at all but something as potentially deadly. Highlighted by the silvery moon of the Nevada night, powerful muscles rippling under the stripped coat, a fully grown Bengal tiger weighing in at maybe five hundred pounds padded effortlessly thru the destroyed interior. Paying no attention to the old bones and other detritus, the huge cat alternately sniffed the ground and threw its' head back baring three inch canines in a flehmen grimace.
Marcus couldn't understand why the animal hadn't come straight for them. It had to have caught their scent by now. A chest deep rumble moved with the beast as it steadily grew closer. The building serving as their hotel for the night was like every other in the city, collapsed like a house of cards. Basically they were sleeping on top of what once had apparently been a spiral staircase. To get at them, the Bengal would have to pull off a sizable leap upward, but that'd be a snap for a tiger of this size.
"How did a tiger get here?" Barnes whispered. "This ain't no India."
"You're asking me? Like I'm supposed to know?" Marcus whispered back. "Maybe it's a leftover from one of the acts. Does it really matter now?"
Unknowingly, Marcus had partially hit on the truth. In its heyday, at least one of Las Vegas' most popular stage shows included performances by live tigers and lions. Audiences were wowed by the chemistry and mastery some humans apparently had with and over the dangerous creatures. And those weren't the only ones. In a city where image and lady luck had mad sex every night, some of their baccarat and blackjack millionaire babies came to consider owning a tiger a symbol of status. Housed largely in menageries and private zoos outside of the city or underground, the orange and black tabby's fared better than their humans on the fateful day. In the course of time, with no people around, those able to do so broke out of their confinement, freed to roam unrestrained, breed and more importantly, stalk what they pleased. The weaker and slower of them fell prey to Skynet's mechanized killers or to the fallout or disease, or starved because their caregivers had perished. Those few that survived adapted, thrived, mated and produced cubs. Marcus and Barnes feline caller was from one of those litters. Totally wild, its instincts guided the hunt. And it was hungry.
"Can you see it from where you are?" Barnes asked Marcus softly. He'd lost sight of it in the very dim light, with the creature moving about.
"Yes, I can" Marcus replied as hushed as he possibly could. His enhanced vision had no problem picking up the alarming newcomer.
"What's it doing now?"
"It's looking up" Marcus replied thru clenched teeth. "I think it knows we're here. Thanks for not shutting up."
"You think you could take it?" Barnes asked him. Maybe the tin man might be of some use after all, he was thinking.
"What!?" Marcus said, no longer bothering to keep his voice down now, since the animal had located them.
"Do you think you can take it?" Barnes repeated emphatically, his meaning obvious.
"Barnes" Marcus answered testily, '"if you're suggesting that I take on a tiger, you can forget it. 'Cause that ain't gonna happen."
"You're the one with Skynet's hyper-alloy underneath the fake skin. Same metal as a terminator. One of them could handle it with no problem" Barnes taunted.
"Barnes, understand me very clearly" Marcus rasped, incensed. "There is no, got that, no way I'm going toe to paw with a tiger! And my skin is not fake! And I am not a terminator!" He let out an exasperated breath. Barnes picked the worst possible time to go all "You're just another machine and we both know it" on him.
"What are you doing?" Marcus noticed the other man's movements toward their cache of weapons.
"What's it look like I'm doing?" Anthony Barnes didn't add the word "stupid" but his tone said it for him. "I'm getting my guns ready in case I have to kill that thing."
"For what, being a tiger?" Marcus questioned indignantly. "There's a door behind us. At least I think it used to be. Let's see if we can get it open and get thru it."
"We don't know what's on the other side of it" Barnes said.
"We know what's on this side of it" Marcus countered. He moved around Barnes to investigate the possible escape hatch more closely. Made from some kind of dark hardwood, the hinges were heavily rusted and it was a safe bet it hadn't been used since the nukes flew. It might be a challenge to open for someone else, but Wright was fairly confident he'd have a lot less problem than most.
"What if it comes for us before you can get that door open?" Barnes wanted to know.
"Then we're going to have to run for it" Marcus Wright didn't add the word "stupid" but his tone said it for him.
"You can't outrun a tiger" Barnes scoffed.
"I don't have to outrun the tiger" Marcus answered with a frosty smile. "I'm going. You can stay here if you want."
The long neglected door gave a banshee screech as Marcus brute forced it open. Inexorably, the gap widened. Circling down below, the ravenous animal alerted to the sound. Amber eyes glowing, its tail began to swish back and forth ominously. The animal backed off, bunching into a crouch.
"Hurry up, man! Hurry up! In about ten seconds that thing is going to be on us!"
"You want to do this?" Marcus grunted, fighting with the door. Come on, just because it's been seventeen years.
He finally gained enough of an opening to slip in just as the cat bounded up with a rage filled scream at the sight of its meal escaping!
Kicking, punching and elbowing thru a decade and a half of debris, Marcus was knocked to his knees as Barnes bulled in pulling the bag with their rations, guns and ammo with him, just beyond reach of the angry cat's swipe with four inch retractable claws.
"RRRRRAAAAAAWWWWWWWWRRR!" The snarl reverberated within the space.
Working together, the men pulled the door closed, hearing the scrape of dagger sharp claws against the door. The tiger threw itself again and again against the barrier, yowling and shrieking in frustration. Its claws raked the door, an unnerving sound.
"Wonder if it'll hold" Marcus speculated as they pushed their way down the trashed passage.
"I'm not sticking around to find out" Colonel Barnes told him. "That thing knows the layout a lot better than we do. I don't want to be here when it gives up on trying to get thru that door and comes at us from another direction."
That makes two of us, Marcus thought. Wright had always liked animals better than most people. You weren't always watching your back around them for one thing. With an animal, what you saw was what you got. You knew a snake was a snake when you picked it up. Not so with the beings on two legs he reasoned. They were the deadliest predator of all, at least until Skynet. He should know, having rightfully been considered pretty dangerous himself by many, and that was before Cyberdyne or Serena Kogan. He didn't want to hurt the cat. He definitely didn't want to have to kill the big pussy but he knew it had no such concerns. It just wanted to eat, and he and Banes looked like food.
Okay kitty, just let us out of here and then you can go find something else to nosh on. I don't want to be the one to stick a fork in you, so don't make me.
"I've got good news and bad news" Marcus told Barnes as they reached the end of the narrow, trash littered passage.
"What's the good news?" Barnes asked, checking behind him to make sure the cat wasn't there.
"No tiger down there" Marcus answered, surveying the area just beyond the opening.
"Alright, then the bad news can't be that bad" Barnes reasoned. No tiger waiting for them down below was good enough for him.
"There's about fifty feet between us and the ground" Marcus clarified. "So unless one of us is Spiderman and the other sprouts a set of wings, I'd say we got a problem. How much rope is in that bag?"
"Not enough" Colonel Barnes declared. "You're the one with a computer in your head. Any bright ideas HAL?"
"Barnes" Marcus snapped, "don't make me put my foot up your- never mind, we don't have time." He considered for handful of seconds, rubbing his chin. "Take off your clothes."
"What?! Aw, Hell naw!" Barnes refused.
"We need to lengthen the rope, genius! Don't worry, I don't want to kiss you either!" Marcus shot back, disgusted.
Stripped down to their boxers, the two worked tying the clothing to the length of rope Barnes pulled from the duffel. Once the knots were as tightly secure as Marcus could make them, they lowered their improvisation out of the opening.
"Still going to have about ten feet to jump" Barnes observed critically.
"You want to go first or follow me down?" Marcus asked.
"Your move, Roboballs" Barnes told him, gesturing to the dangling rope.
If I rip his head off I'll have too much explaining to do, Marcus thought, grabbing hold of the nylon rope to begin the trip down. Besides, if the tiger shows up, I'll need something to throw at it. Marcus slung the duffel over his shoulder wincing at the inevitable clatter. Climbing with it on his back was going to be more than a little awkward but he'd done it before.
They shouldn't have to worry about the rope holding. This particular type tested out at about twice their combined weight, even with Wright's unique body structure factored in. The clothing extensions might be another matter but since they didn't have a choice, they might as well get on with it. He continued down. After a few seconds, he could feel the rope absorb the strain as Barnes climbed out and started down.
"Wonder if any of our people ran into Sher Khan" Barnes puffed, breathless with effort.
"She- what are you talking about?" Marcus questioned irritably.
"Sher Khan was the tiger in-" Barnes began to explain sarcastically.
"I know who Sher Khan was" Marcus hissed from between clenched teeth. "I've known how to read since I was four. And I doubt it. Something tells me it didn't survive this long by taking on a large party of armed humans. Probably just avoided them. You want to shut up and keep going? We're almost down."
They reached the end of their amalgamation, jumped to the rubble strewn ground and dressed quickly in their one outfit apiece of spare clothing, keeping an eye out for their furred stalker. The rope and other clothes would have to be left behind since there was no way to retrieve them.
"RRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWRRRR RRRR!" The furious roar split the night.
"That was close!" Barnes spun around in the darkness, trying to look in every direction at once. They armed themselves.
"I know. Let's get out here before it finds us!" Marcus said, resituating the duffel. Without waiting for Barnes to decide, Wright chose a direction and started off at a trot. If Barnes objected, he didn't say, just concentrated on keeping up.
The Colonel had his eye on their back trail. Visibility was poor and he was trying to watch for the hungry animal. The footing was treacherous and Barnes had to watch where he stepped, so when Wright stopped without warning, Barnes, caught off guard, collided with Marcus's broad back forcefully.
"What the-what'd you stop for?! We got to clear this area! That thing is still trying to find us!"
"We're no longer alone" Marcus said levelly, explaining the abrupt halt.
"Is it the tiger?" Barnes said, fumbling for his gun.
"No, not the tiger" Marcus answered, still calm and quiet.
"Then what?" Barnes stepped around him. He said nothing more. He and Marcus were surrounded by grim faced strangers packing plenty of heat. The next few minutes were likely to become very interesting.
Author's Note: That does it for chapter one. The tiger and lion act in Vegas was for real, some of you might have even seen it. It's ended now, but it existed at one time. As for the other people who kept big cats as pets, unfortunately, that's probably true too. Stupid, but true. Don't get me started. See ya next chapter (I hope).
P.S. Reviews welcome. Thanks.