2022, PALMDALE
As the day was coming to an end, the light of the sun faded, obscuring the remains of the buildings and the empty, deserted, dead streets. In these were still some cars, or at least what remained of those cars. Human bones were the only thing remaining from their drivers. It was something from a past that seemed lost forever.
In one of those streets a black, partially rusty Dodge Charger SRT8 was slowly making its way through concrete and steel. Its windows were covered with welded grids and an improvised, but solid bumper protected the calender. The sound of the engine was dull but low and discrete.
It stopped under the partially crushed dome of an observatory. The driver's door opened and a young man, who was about twenty years old, with cold, grey eyes and blond hair, stepped out. He was wearing military boots and a combat dress, and was wielding an M4 carbine fitted with an M203 grenade launcher. He pulled the handle, checking the chamber, and released. Then he closed the car's door, lifted the gun and began to inspect his surroundings. Finding no traces of machines, he went back to the Dodge, opened the passengers' door. A German Shepherd jumped out of the car and looked up to the young man. He stroked the dog's head, smiled and said, "Time to go on duty, boy." The dog whined and timidly moved his head away. Still grinning, his master opened the trunk of the car and took a sleeping-bag, then laid it out on the flattest surface he could find. He kept unloading things from the trunk, things like a radio, some food cans. He hid all of it in a metallic box, then put it under a piece of steel. After what, he took some debris and put them on the car's roof and hood, making it look like it had crashed into the dome.
He stared at it for a moment, then headed out, the dog going first. If machines were to come, he would sense them. He was good at that. The man trusted him. He knew it could be dangerous, but there were no priority targets here for Skynet, patrols were rare. Besides, if there were survivors, maybe he could help. He silently sneaked on a ruined building and began to search. Finding nothing, he came back on the street, using the destroyed cars as a cover, running from one to an another as fast as he could. He was moving precisely, coordinated, like a soldier would.
After half an hour patrolling the surrounding, the dog growled. He froze, his eyes swivelling from one side to another, and suddenly he noticed something that looked like… He pointed the gun toward it as he approached silently, cautiously.
He had been right. The humanoid shape was a T-633, an infantry unit. The matt grey endoskeleton was half recovered by dust and debris, and the eyes were black. Empty. Lifeless. A large part of its skull, up the left eye socket, right where the CPU was located, was missing. Wires and shattered electronic components were protruding from the hole. At least it wouldn't cause any harm anymore.
He went past it, got inside a building, inspecting it. With nothing to be found. He got out, walked around it… and almost stumbled on something he didn't see. He glanced down and almost jumped.
A young girl was laying here, motionless, her eyes closed. Her body was dirty due to dust. She had brown, thin hair, her skin was pale. Her mouth was half-open. Looking at her he told himself she was… pretty. Yes, that was the word. She looked almost peaceful. But the man knew that appearances couldn't be trusted in this world…
He looked at his dog, who was nosing her. "Nothing to report, buddy ?" The animal lifted his head, looking at him. "No?"
The dog whined softly, and he relaxed. If she was a machine, he would have barked.
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