A/N: This my first Terminator fanfic, so I would greatly appreciate it if you would read and review.
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Dust and concrete littered the polluted air. As the HKs encircled one of the resistance buildings. The screams and shrieks echoed from the concrete office complex. As the HK's twin laser Gatling guns blasted through the metal and drywall. With a few final blasts, it left quickly. Jetting towards the north. Leaving an array of drywall, dust, rock, concrete, and steel in it's wake. Leaving the T-600s to finish off the remaining stragglers perched inside.
From afar, Mara eyed the office complexes demise. With anger. She teared away from the horror. Rapping her scarf intricately around her head leaving her eyes as the only part of her face visible. Without reluctance, she ducked her head down as an HK roared above. In a whirlwind of shrapnel, it passed. Allowing Mara to get up and continue. She slid under a pile of debris and spring-boarded over a burnt out car, rolling when she collided into the ground. Quickly she loaded her Desert Eagle, silently, in the case a T-600 was waiting around the corner.
She crouched down letting her ears pick up every sound. The distant rumbling of the HK's engines hummed in her ears, and a slight breeze also was hissing past them. A distant sound of coils, pneumatics, and metal suddenly halted the relative silence. It was one of them. She scurried to her feet, and in an instant, she had bolted from her temporary spot. She moved easily, sliding and rolling past obstacles. Mara sprung over a metal pipe that was cutting through her line of passage. She recovered her feet and veered around a corner.
The T-600 was on her quickly. It's meticulous arm shot forward and enveloped around her windpipe. "No!" She croaked in alarm, as the Terminator slowly lifted her into the air, this time squeezing much harder on her trachea. Instinct sent her thrashing at the T-600 using whatever means possible to free herself from the machine's literal iron grip.
Suddenly a bullet slammed into it's head, and a second, third. Fourth. Then the machine was out. The T-600's hand released her neck, letting her fall to the ground with a thud. Crumpling in a mechanical heap with all the other pieces of scrap. Quickly, she scurried up and stepped a few paces back. She snatched the Desert Eagle from the ground and aimed carefully at the machines dark eyes. Letting two shots blow through it's mechanized iris'.
"Hey!" A man unexpectedly called out. Mara jolted into attack positions and aimed right where the man was standing. He was wearing a pair of raggedy jeans, a hoody, with a bullet proof vest draped over it. The hood was up and his face was hidden by a dirty ski mask. "Whoa! What's with the firearms?" he asked, shrugging, and stepping back. Mara wad silent, and unwary. "Oh, look, I just saved your life," he continued in a sarcastic tone.
"You did that?" She asked.
"No, he did it," He remarked, gesturing to the dead machine. Suddenly, the sound of T-1's pulsed from afar. "Aw, crap, we have to go, c'mon." He ordered, grabbing the Heckler and Koch sub-machine gun hanging on his back. He pulled it in front, aiming wildly as they ran through the debris. Slowly after long running, they came onto a street, which, just like every street, was torn by war. The street lights where dark and looming overhead, and once, where the markets out front were teeming with life, there were dark, human remains.
Mara continued following the man without hesitation, although she did have her suspicions. The man started to pick up the pace, with more running. Which was more like a sprint at this point. The man suddenly veered to the right into a large garage which had a burnt and moldy, dank smell to it. A car, with dents, bullet holes, and streaks of where there had been close calls sat in the garage, so innocently.
The thought that somehow this car had survived Judgment Day was unknown to her. The man stepped forward and swung open the door, gesturing for her to get into the passenger seat.
Obeying timidly, she stepped into the car, sitting slowly onto the musty seat. The man shut the door and jogged around to the other seat, sliding in quickly. His hand darted for the window roller, speedily rolling it down. Reverting his attention, he started the car, it released a slight hum, and when it fully activated, it gave a feeling of nostalgia to both of them. Letting out a sigh, the man pressed on the gas pedal, sending the silver sedan through the garage doors. With a wrenching screech, the car flew down the street, occasionally bumping through skeletons, going off pieces of concrete, and smashing through other burnt out cars. The man downshifted, to four, and rode onto a large incline. The car struggled to climb up, but with every last ounce of strength it had, it raced up the hill, bouncing on it's tires when it landed onto the asphalt. The man, slowed down to half speed, and downshifted to drive. He turned to the left and headed down an alley, parking in amongst some other cars and scraps.
"My name's Eric what's yours?" He queried, looking at her intently and ripping off the ski mask. Revealing him to have dark brown locks, and a bit of stubble pinpricking his chin and cheeks. He also had amber coloured iris' which was a nice touch to his already handsome face.
"Uhh . . . Mara," she stammered to answer, but finally, she did, peeling away her scarf. She had short red hair, her eye's were green, and was very attractive. A few scars however laced near er ears, and her neck was red and bruised by her unfortunate event with the T-600.
"Okay Mara, here's the deal, your going to stay with us for a little while," he told her reassuringly. "Us?" A door popped open from a side wall, and a small band of people raced out of it. Eric unstrapped himself from the seat and stepped out of the car door, walking among the people, he strode through the door and disappeared into the void. Mara unbuckled herself and flung out the door, heading quickly inside, slamming the door behind her.
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Hows it sound? Bad/Good????