Back To The Post Apocalyptic Future

Chapter 2 – Hill Valley

The four of them and their horse continued eastward following the rising sun. When they climbed over the crest of a hill, they were met with the sight of the bustling main street of a small town in the valley below.

As they made their way through town, Sarah watched her son look around with wide eyes. The concept of time-travel had only ever been real in theory to her. Even experiencing the time-jump the previous night only seemed like some surreal happening that placed her in the middle of the desert. The desert was timeless. Sand looked like sand whether it was 1999 or 10,000 B.C. Walking through a late 19th century town finally made it real to her.

She noticed the obvious difference in the way that Cameron was looking around. Whereas John's eyes were bouncing around from building to building, her radar-like eyes swept back and forth like security cameras. The machine was likely taking a visual record of the town's layout. Sarah too did her best to memorize the locations of the landmarks on Main Street; a meat market, a dry goods store, an undertaker and cabinet maker, a bank, the Palace Saloon on the corner, and the Marshall's office with a sign in the window that read:

Gone to Haysville for hanging of Stinky Lomax

There's no town Marshall... things could get dangerous, she thought.

Sarah handed John four of the eight gold pieces that they took from the bandits' camp and told him to go to the tailor and buy them some clothing. She would look into finding them a place to stay, and getting Rose sent home to LA.

Rose put up a slight protest to this. It was obvious to Sarah that the girl preferred to stay by the side of her newly found crush, but Sarah didn't want John alone with her without her supervision. It was too big of a risk at this point. John or could say something stupid about the future. Also, she wanted to get this girl on the first train back home, so they could start fresh in this town without having to incorporate being naked in the middle of the desert last night as part of their cover story.

"But I want to help John find new clothes! I'll pick him out something very handsome," Rose said, smiling at John even though she was complaining to Sarah.

"Cameron can pick something out. She's... good with clothes and stuff." Sarah responded.

"Yes," Cameron added. "I'll pick out something totally phat."

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In the tailor, John was thoroughly enjoying himself. It was like dressing up for Halloween. He normally hated cowboy boots, but considering the circumstances, he was rather proud of the dark brown pair he now owned. He picked out a nice hat too; one with a big, flat brim. A leather vest and a long coat completed the look.

Cameron purchased a more gender appropriate outfit; a modest grey dress with a white blouse and a lightweight sun-hat. Along with the clothes, she purchased a handbag to carry the T-888 skull and the extra ammunition, etc.

She knew Sarah would not stand for something so impractical, so she purchased some more utilitarian clothes for her; long pants, a flannel shirt, and a pair of cowboy boots like John's. The tailor agreed to hold Sarah's clothes so she could come in later on to pick them up.

After leaving the tailor, they still had one gold coin and some change left over. "Let's see what else this town has to offer," John said. He giggled in amusement as the spurs on his boots jingled as he walked along the street. They walked to the corner of the street and stepped up to the front entrance of the Palace Saloon. John stood in front of the swinging double doors, shoved them open and walked through, allowing the doors to flap back and forth behind him. I've always wanted to do that, he thought.

He looked around the saloon and saw several empty tables, one table occupied by three older men playing poker and drinking, a couple other tables with a patron or two at them, the bartender standing behind the bar which was in front of a wall of fancy and intricate woodwork. A woman's voice called out to him, "hey there stranger!" He looked up and saw three women standing on the second floor balcony wearing risqué corsets and lacy stockings blowing kisses at him. "You need some company, cutie?"

John, still grinning stupidly, immediately started walking to the stairs. He was stopped short when Cameron grabbed the collar of his shirt. "No," she said to him, and then glared up at the women on the balcony. Holding on to the scruff of John's neck, she directed him over to a table in the corner of the saloon and forcibly sat him down in a chair. She sat next to him, pulled her chair up to the table, then flashed him an annoyingly fake smile.

Shortly after that, the bartender approached their table. "You need a drink, son?"

"Yeah. Uhh... you got change for this?" John placed the large gold coin on the table.

"Sure do," the bartender replied. "What'll it be?"

"Tequila."

"One shot of Mexican Fire, commin' right up. And for you, Miss?"

"I don't drink," Cameron responded.

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"What do you mean the train is out of service?" Sarah asked angrily to the ticket agent.

"Sorry, ma'am. There was a derailment on one of the westbound trains yesterday, and the rail company has cancelled all trains from here to LA until next Monday."

Sarah let out a sigh. "Great." She turned to Rose. "Looks like you'll be staying with us for a few days."

Of course this didn't bother Rose one bit. She couldn't help but grin at the prospect of spending a few days (and hopefully a couple nights) with her boy she fancied. After a few days of courting John, maybe she could convince him to come back with her to LA on Monday.

She chastised herself for being so bold (if only in her own mind). Mother would be surely scold me for chasing after a low class boy like John. She decided that since her mother was out of sight, she was also out of her jurisdiction.

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Cameron had the ultimate poker face. She was proving to be quite the card shark against the other three men at the Saloon. John however, was doing a fantastic job of losing as much money back to the men as Cameron was hustling from them.

As the next hand was being dealt, a strange looking younger guy in a ridiculous pink shirt and red pants walked into the saloon. He sat at the bar and attempted to order ice-water, garnering laughter from most of the people in the bar. Cameron kept an eye on him. Something didn't seem right about this man. She then noticed his shoes. Nike brand tennis shoes. They were of a style consistent with mid 1980's fashion. She would need to investigate this individual further.

"You sure you don't want to share a room for a little while, honey?" said one of the prostitutes, that had now walked up behind John's chair and was pawing at his hair, and rubbing his neck.

"Uhmm... I'm kinda broke now... these guys took all my money," John responded, that stupid grin back on his face. "Can I borrow some money, sis?" he asked Cameron.

Cameron's blank poker-face turned into a icy glare. "No."

"Aww, that's okay honey," the call-girl said. "For a cutie-pie like you, the first one's on the house."

Cameron reached into her handbag and gripped the handle of her Colt Peacemaker and began to draw it out when a group of rough looking thugs burst into the bar, and started harassing the man in the pink shirt and Nike tennis shoes.

Everyone but Cameron and John cowered and hid when the Nike wearing man called the leader of the thugs "Mad Dog Tannen".

When Mad Dog Tannen started firing his pistol at the floor where Nike-man was standing and demanding that he dance, Cameron grabbed John by the shirt and pulled him around behind her, so that her body was shielding him.

She watched the man dance and something else peculiar about him struck her. His dance moves seemed to be modeled after the stylistic creations of Michael Jackson, including one signature move, "The Moon Walk". He performed a final jump move that inadvertently caused a loose floorboard to launch a spittoon at Mr. Tannen, covering him in the vile, slimy liquid that was inside.

Nike-man ran out of the saloon, but was soon captured and tied up by the men in Tannen's gang. These outlaws were a very high threat to Nike-man, and Cameron still needed to question him. She could not allow the Tannen gang to kill him.

Cameron told John, "Stay here," and ran out of the saloon, after the gang.

She ran to the end of the street where the gang was now hanging Nike-man by the neck with a rope. She was about to shoot the man holding the other end of the rope, when a rifle shot rang out, and the rope was severed. Off in the distance, she could see an older man holding a rifle with a rudimentary scope attached to it, and was now aiming it at Tannen. She used this opportunity to approach Nike-man, who was now laying on the ground, rubbing his neck. "Are you okay, sir?" she asked him as she extended her hand to help him to his feet.

***

Marty struggled against the rope, which gripped his neck and burned as the fibers dug into his skin. He started to feel light headed as he gasped for air. His ears were ringing and his vision had began to fade. After a minute he felt as though he was floating. No. Not floating. Falling. A half second later, he and the ground became intimate friends, and he coughed for air.

He could now hear a familiar voice arguing with Mad Dog Tannen, but his concentration to their conversation was broken when a woman appeared, standing over him. She held her hand out to him. His mind was still spinning from being dragged through the street behind a horse, and nearly choked to death, and to him, she appeared as a beautiful angel, backlit by the morning sun, offering him salvation. He graciously took her hand and was surprised at the force with which she pulled him up.

"Who are you," he croaked, rubbing his neck.

"Marty!" Doc Brown shouted to him, stealing his attention away from Cameron.

"Doc!" As entranced as he was by the pretty girl who'd just helped him up, it wasn't enough to completely distract him from the reason he'd come to this time. He began to walk away from Cameron to greet Doc, and stopped for a moment to say to her, "Thanks. I'll... see you around."

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Sarah was scanning the bulletin-board postings at the post office looking for a place to rent, when she heard gunshots. Her hand instinctively went to her hip expecting to find the plastic handle of a Glock 17. Instead, she felt the carved sandalwood grips of the Colt Peacemaker. To feel something so familiar, yet so different, was subtly disorienting. Not a second or two after she drew the weapon, a commanding voice spoke to her.

"You'll have to keep that holstered while on government property, ma'am," said the worker behind the counter.

Sarah was dumbfounded by the man's indifference to the gunshots. She even noticed that Rose barely gave more than a mildly curious glance out the window, then continued looking at the bulletin board. Hearing gunshots in the rough parts of L.A. wasn't exactly rare, but people still usually reacted with a fair amount of concern. These people acted like it was a no more alarming than the noon-whistle. She looked out the window and saw a gang of men run out of the saloon, chasing some other guy dressed in loud colors. Her eyes widened and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end when she watched the gang rope him like a calf and dragged him behind their horses. "Isn't anyone going to do anything?" she pleaded with the post man.

"Marshall Strickland is gone to Haysville for a few days. Don't worry ma'am. You'll be safe in here," he said as he pointed to the pair of double-barrel shotguns mounted on the wall behind him. He proudly added, "Tannen and his gang know better than to mess with the United States Post Office."

Sarah let out a small, sardonic laugh. "Yeah... I suppose he doesn't want you going postal on him."

"Going postal, ma'am?"

"Never mind... I just..." before she could take her foot out of her mouth, she saw Cameron run down the street after the gang and their victim. "Shit," she said under her breath. "Stay here, missy," she ordered to Rose, and ran out of the post office.

Her bare feet slowed her pace, and Sarah regretted not picking up her new clothes from the tailor before going to the post office. By the time she got to the end of the road by the clock-tower construction, the situation was already diffused, and Cameron was walking back toward her. The man in the colorful clothes had met up with, and was patting his hand on the back of an older looking gentleman with long silver hair.

"What the hell just happened? Where's John?" she shouted at the machine.

"John is in the Palace Saloon. I was ensuring the survival of Marty."

"Who?"

"Marty. That is what the old man called him just a moment ago."

Sarah whipped her head and looked over as the two men were walking away from them. "I don't care what his name is! Why the hell are you chasing him down the street and 'ensuring his survival' when John is by himself in the wild-west during a gunfight!?"

"John is safe. The gunmen causing trouble had all left the saloon before I pursued them. Marty must live because I believe he is a temporal anomaly."

"A what?"

"A temporal anomaly. Like us."

"He's a time-traveler?"

"That is the likely conclusion. That's why I needed to ensure those men didn't kill him. I need to find out more about him."

Another time traveler? Here? Sarah's head was overflowing with questions and possibilities. What would Skynet or The Resistance need in the 1880's? Was he sent there to help them? How would he ever get back to the post apocalyptic future? Would he even want to? She took a deep breath and calmed herself. Simplify. Take action. "Well... first thing's first. Let's get John and find a place to stay. I saw a couple of postings for rental houses at the post office.

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"JOHN!!"

The sound of his mother's voice cut through the ambient saloon chatter. The tequila had slowed his reaction time a bit, but it still took only a fraction of a second for him to peel his lips away from those belonging to the girl sitting next to him.

Rose immediately retreated to her chair and stared at the table in front of her with her head tilted down in embarrassment.

Busssted. Oh well... he'd been in bigger trouble a hundred times. What was her problem anyway? Hell... in this time, being 15 was like middle-aged or something. And back before they broke her out of the nuthouse, he'd made out with that one chick for like 2 hours. "Chill out, Mom. Rose 'n I were just talking." He looked over to see the Rose's red face develop a guilty smile. Oh yeah... Girls always have a smile on their face after being with John Connor, he gloated to himself, unable to hold back a devious grin of his own.

His grin slowly gave way to a look of astonishment and confusion when he looked over at Cameron. Here was the ultimate killing machine, looking... sad? It was a look similar to the previous night; when she'd come to the conclusion that she'd failed her mission. Her expression was less intense, and her fake tears or whatever weren't starting to pool in her eyes, but she still had that same "Santa isn't real?" look on her face.

A second later, her face changed back to a blank slate, and she said, "Let's go."