Fingers clicked on keys and I opened my eyes at the sound and turned to look over my shoulder at John sitting at his desk and hands hesitating over the keyboard. The dim light of the lamp made his shadow shudder on the wall and he ran his fingers over his lips as he thought before typing something in.
"What are you doing?" I asked, squinting slightly and startling him by in his chair so the legs ached on the floorboards.
"Nothing," he said quickly, exiting out of the page and folding the screen of it down so I couldn't see what he'd been doing. "Nothing." He smiled nervously as if it would convince me to drop the subject.
"Were you watching porn?" I asked, eyebrows creased in disproval and he laughed, hands crossed over his knees and no physical evidence between them to suggest that he had been.
"No," he insisted, blushing anyway and glancing at me cautiously before lifting up the screen with the page still loaded and the words "In Memory of Jordan Cowan: 1992 – 2007" printed across it. There was a picture of a smiling girl beside it and I tried to reconcile it with the blurred memory of the girl standing on top the roof but all I could see was blood.
"Oh," I said, as a way of filling the silence and he nodded before closing the lid again and the light underneath it flashing blue once before dark. A hesitant knock came at the door and we looked up to see Sarah standing in the doorway and glancing between us with coldness in her gaze reserved for me and warmth when she returned it to John.
"What're you two still doing up?" She asked, leaning back against the doorway and her sleeves too long and covering her hands.
"Nothing," John shrugged and adjusted himself back in his chair to rest his chin on his knuckles. I nodded my agreement with him and she barely cast another glance my way before her eyebrows narrowed at me lying in his bed.
"Don't you have your own room?" She asked, voice hard and with a short laugh as if in an attempt to soften it.
"I prefer this one," I replied shortly and making no sign to move like her tone suggested. She opened her mouth as if to say something in response but Cameron was suddenly standing behind her and cutting whatever she was thinking short.
"Cromartie's here," she said plainly, arms stiff at her sides and half clenched into fists. "Now."
"I've been monitoring the media for possible threats," Cameron continued, walking away from where she had handed Sarah the newspaper and turning again so her back stood to the TV. "Yesterday, arson at an Oakland dock forced the rerouting of a shipment of refined coltan into the port of Los Angeles."
"Coltan?" I asked, struggling against a yawn and burying my mouth in my sleeve to hide it.
"Skynet will use it as a key element in our endoskeleton alloy," Cameron answered, hearing me anyway and not taking her eyes off of Sarah who had finally looked up from the paper.
"That doesn't mean Cromartie's back," she insisted, folding the paper and tossing it to the cluttered table. "How can it be Cromartie? Are you forgetting that I blew his head off?"
"I remember," Cameron nodded. "That's why I went to find this." She turned to face the TV and slid a homemade DVD case off the top of it and opened the player to put it in. "You should watch."
"Should we make popcorn?" I asked dryly, leaning more heavily onto my arm and wishing that I was curled up in John's bed again. Or at the very least my own.
"If you think it would help," Cameron shrugged and stepped back so we could see but the screen staying blue. "It won't play."
"Put it on video two," John offered and readjusting how he leaned against the doorway and appearing more awake and less bored then I was. Cameron clicked something and the words "Property of KZPZ" came up to replace the stark colour.
"Oh," she said simply and head tilted to acknowledge the change. "Thank you for explaining."
"Where'd you get this?" Sarah asked and walking around where I sat and easing herself into an armchair that rocked under her weight.
"Check the paper tomorrow for any dead anchorman," John answered for her and walking over closer to the screen with his arms folded over his chest and a lazy pace to his step.
"I don't sleep," Cameron countered to no one in particular and the screen changing again to show a picture of Sarah from a few weeks ago, naked and staring startled at the camera. She moved to run off the screen as Cameron froze it and the image blurring. "There." She skipped ahead by several frames and something red standing out in the background and leering from where it lay. Uneasily I uncrossed my legs and stood up to walk over and join them and the image becoming clearer as I did so I could see that it was a metal head with its eyes red and pointed forward. "He came through. He knows we're here."
"It's just a head," Sarah said, sounding confused and squinting at the image.
"His chip is intact," Cameron warned and turning to address her. "We're programmed to repair ourselves. We're programmed to blend in. He might still need coltan for a missing piece. A leg, an arm. He'll rebuild and continue his mission to hunt and kill."
"I know what his mission is," Sarah told her and speaking through her teeth. I glanced over at John who suddenly looked uncomfortable and avoided my gaze to stare at the adjacent wall and memorizing the details to it. I contemplated whether or not to take his hand but decided against it thinking that it would bring more awareness to his unease then taking away from it.
"I still have money from the safe house," Sarah continued, walking around the counter and unplugging the microwave from the wall to reach behind it for several small bags with slips of paper stuffed inside. "We can go south, set up across the border, get off the grid ..."
"Go south?" John repeated and his knuckles cracking as he rocked them against the table.
"What?" Sarah asked, looking over at me as if I had made the objection.
"Thought you said we weren't going to run anymore," John protested, anger building in his voice and hardening on each word. "We were gonna fight."
"This is different, John," she sighed and walking out of the room so he could follow her. I pushed off of the counter to walk after them, burrowing my hands into my pockets and struggling against another yawn.
"...He's vulnerable," John was pleading and looking back at me to offer him support. "We know where he'll be." I nodded to agree with him and the extent of the support I was awake enough to offer.
"A new skin means a new face," Cameron insisted calmly and walking over to join us and her arms politely folded in front of her. "We won't know what he looks like."
"But we'll know where he'll be," John repeated and looking between the three of us as if unsure which one he needed most to convince. "I can hack the port schedule no problem. We find the container and we wait. We hunt him for a change. Or we could run ... again." Sarah turned to walk away from him and he raised his voice so she could still hear. She stopped in the kitchen and rested her hands against the table and scanning over the bags of paper she'd pulled out and meeting his eyes again. He stared back at her, breathless from his speech and the look in his own eyes softening as he went from hardened soldier to pleading child in an instant and asking his mom a favor.
"The ship comes tonight?" She asked and breaking contact to confirm by Cameron. "The one carrying the coltan?"
"5:00 AM," Cameron replied and I inwardly groaned at how early it sounded. John took this as a yes and tugged the keys off the hook hanging by the door and walked over to hold them out to his mom and dangling her last chance between yes and no in front of her.
"Like you're going to drive," she smirked and taking them from him. "Get the shot guns."
"It's not like I can't drive," John protested with his own smile and stepping out past her to obey and me reluctantly following behind.
I carefully sipped the coffee that John insisted I take – and make for me – and the taste burning my tongue but not as acidic as when I had done it myself. I took a breath of the chilled air to cool it and watched as him and Sarah worked on the bomb they were building between them and Sarah sneaking glances up at him to check that he was holding steady. He ignored the look but returned mine and blushed when he looked away.
I readjusted myself sitting in the dirt in the cramped space between containers and John's knee bumping mine as I moved. Footsteps shifted on the dirtied concrete and Sarah looked up as the light was blocked and Cameron stood in the way of it.
"Cromartie?" She asked and squinting up at her.
"Not here yet," Cameron answered and ducking in to lean back against one of the containers. "They're humans."
"Keep setting the charges," Sarah advised John and ignoring me in the recognition that I didn't know how. Guns were easy but bombs still lay just outside of comfortable. "If he comes for that coltan he'll have to come through here." She pushed halfway to her feet and crouched out of our hiding place to behind a post a couple feet away. John made to follow her before realizing there was no room and awkwardly running behind another one nearby. I didn't move and pressed my back against the coldness of the metal and counting my breathing before looking out around the corner. A wind came through the open doorway leading to the yard and a tall, threatening looking man walked through it with his glasses dark and hiding his eyes.
"Is that Cromartie?" Sarah asked, spinning on her heels to face us and her eyes darting urgently behind me. "Cameron? Where's Cameron?" She addressed the last to me and I looked over my shoulder to see that she wasn't standing behind me and turned back to shrug that I didn't know. Sarah gritted her teeth in frustration and tightened her fingers on the gun she was holding. John made a move to turn around his post but saw the man walking past and stuttered back to press his back against the wall and closing his eyes as his chest rose and fell in sharp breaths. I watched him with my eyes briefly darting out to catch the rest of the room and the man walking across it. I could be at his side in less than five steps if I ran but there was the question of what I would use to defend him once I got there. I didn't know how to fight hand to hand and even if I did fists and nails wouldn't bring down a Terminator. Sarah gathered herself to her feet with her gun cocked and aimed it where the man still presumably stood – a post blocked my view – but there was a yell and a clatter of weight against the plastic bins by the door and she cautiously lowered it. John looked at me panicked and I scrambled from my hiding place and to his side so I could push him behind me and see that the man had been the one who yelled and was now sprawled by the collapsed bins. Cameron purposeful walked over to grip her arms around his neck tightly for a moment before dropping him back onto the collapsed fence.
"He'll survive," she informed us as we came on other side of her and his limp boot touching my foot.
"He's human," Sarah said, sounding confused and almost disappointed.
"Not a very strong one," Cameron observed dryly and I snorted with a glare from Sarah to indicate that I shouldn't have. The sound of an engine starting echoed through the warehouse and I grabbed John's hand and dragged him behind a wall of still standing plastic bins and his boots stuttering on the dirtied floor as I moved too fast and he couldn't catch up. Sarah and Cameron hunkered down behind us and through the gaps I could see the truck passing in front of us with two men sitting in the front seat.
"Mom!" John said in panic and I glanced back before following his gaze to a corner of the room where several men lay unconscious on the cement, half naked and their hands tied. "Those other guys just stole the truck." He turned back to face his mother and I eased myself up half an inch and stupidly checking to see if I could see if they were breathing at this angle. I couldn't.
"Does Cromartie have men working for him?" Sarah asked, a breeze from the still open doorway pushing her hair back over her shoulders. "Does that happen?"
"You work for me," Cameron pointed out and I turned away from where the men still lay –hopefully unconscious – and back through the gap where the truck was still rambling along and the engine quietly protesting it.
"We have to follow that truck," Sarah said determinedly and moving away from where she knelt at my back.
I adjusted my footing on the ledge and dug my fingers deeper into the windowsill so the plaster crumbled under my fingers and dusted them white.
"Shh," Sarah hissed, not even looking at me with the threat and crouched lower then I was though taller then I was too so she could still see through the opening and into the warehouse. I called her several unseemly names in my head and licked my drying lips as voices echoed back and forth inside the warehouse and the beeping of a machine backing up. The shape of it came into view and I squinted at the thin metal vials tightly packed together and held steady with a strap over the front. I couldn't read what they said from here but I had three guesses of what they were with two that were unnecessary.
"That's coltan," John observed, answering my thoughts and glancing at me and Sarah to make sure that we heard. "If that's what you're made of, no wonder you're so dense." He tossed the last comment to Cameron, grinning as he said it and checking if I also found it funny.
"Not density," Cameron corrected, the machine carrying the coltan turning and beeping as it moved. "Heat resistance. T600 models had a titanium alloy endoskeleton. But it was vulnerable to heat. Coltan alloys has a higher melting point."
"You know what I love about you guys?" Sarah asked brightly, apparently the warning for me to keep quiet more of an excuse to tell me off then a rule she had to follow herself. "Even when you've evolved into the ultimate indestructible killing machine, you're not above self-examination and improvement."
"Thank you," Cameron answered, glancing between her and John as if asking whether or not it was worthy of a thanks.
"Please shut up," Sarah said, turning back and her fingers adjusting on the sill. One of the men was spraying something on the front of the truck and ripped off the section of black covering it to reveal "6AP0CB" poorly painted between the headlights. "Military tags?" None of us answered and the man who did the painting walked away from the truck and to the men gathering together at the back with the way they reacted to one of them hinting that he was the leader.
"Leave it," he said, holding up a hand and addressing someone out of my line of sight. "We need to move. Now."
"How about we get paid, seriously?" One of the men asked jumping down from the back of a truck and wiping his dirt stained hands with an equally dirty rag.
"How about you shut up and go now?" Another offered and clapping him on the back as he and the others walked off and leaving the boss still standing there. He watched them as they left, remaining for another moment before walking over to the truck and easily picking up a case of coltan and carried it to the other truck before setting with a hard crunch. I blinked in surprise.
"He's not damaged at all," Sarah said in confusion, her eyebrows knotting and looking over at me and John. Cameron ignored her as her eyes narrowed and watching him as he walked away from the truck and stripping off his jacket.
"That's not Cromartie," she answered, head tilting slightly and her hair falling over it to touch her shoulder. "Endoskeletal structure points don't match." John and Sarah turned back to look her and I snuck a glance as well as her eyes continued to be rooted to the Terminator and not noticing that we were staring at her. "He's too short."
"Another one?" Sarah asked, her voice going quiet. "Well, why does he have all this? I thought these things just hunt and kill people." John stiffened next to me and I cast a glance at him that he met but told me nothing.
"They perform whatever mission they're programmed for," Cameron explained, eyes still locked in the storage room and oblivious that her hair was blowing lightly around her face.
"And what kind of mission is this?" Sarah asked, asking what we were all thinking and sobering us with hearing it aloud.
"We still have the charges. We can rig 'em at the door," John was saying, jogging to the back of the jeep and digging around in the back of it. He pulled out the knapsack he found there and swung it over his shoulder so the buckles clacked. "Blow 'em when they try to drive out. Then Cameron can take out ..."
"Get in the car. We're going," Sarah interrupted, a faint smile on her lips that he thought he had the option. John's face fell and his eyes hardened as he looked at her. "What? John, the plan was to hunt Cromartie. That's not Cromartie."
"So?" I asked, surprising myself and them and unsure if I was protesting because I agreed with John or because I was angry at the way Sarah was talking to him.
"So you just want to walk in there, kick their asses and go for pancakes?" Sarah demanded, sarcasm dripping from her words and stepping closer so that we were almost nose to nose. "It doesn't work like that. We're outnumbered."
"We're always outnumbered," I shot back and anger suddenly in my throat and making my words come out thick. "Today, tomorrow we're always going to be outnumbered. Does that mean that we don't fight back? Does that just mean we run?" I bit back on anything else I wanted to say before I went too far and breathing hard with the anger and adrenaline that was now racing in my chest. Sarah stared back at me, our eyes nearly level with the height of my boots and tilt of my head, the look in her own reminding me of the first time I met Cameron – scanning me and trying to understand the results.
"I'm not saying we run," she finally said, voice now quiet and calm though her heavy breathing hinting that she was holding back. "But we need to step back, see what's going on."
"So we run, in other words," John interrupted and Sarah glanced over at him as if forgetting he was there and he was the one she'd been initially arguing.
"Can you tell him to get in the car?" She asked, turning her attention over to Cameron who was watching us and curious of the subtleties between all three.
"It's too dangerous," she confirmed, looking to John to address him. "We should go."
"It's always too dangerous!" John burst out and almost stomping his foot in frustration. "It's War! War is dangerous!" He looked over to look at me, eyes wild and begging that I'd agree with him that I'd step up again, take his side and prove that he wasn't alone in this. I couldn't move though and only watched him, my heart still pounding loudly in my chest and the rest of me feeling empty. Sarah filled the moment I left silent and walked over to him to slide the strap of the bag from his shoulder and the weight of it dropping into her hand.
"If you die," she said, stepping back and the bottom of the bag scratching on the pavement. "They win. Either of you." She tossed the last comment of her shoulder at me and turned back before she could see my reaction.
"How many of those things, those endoskeletons, do you think they can make out of that load of metal in there?" John asked after a moment, jaw working back and forth before he said them and barely helping to hold back his anger. "'Cause that's what we're talking about. It's a truck full of enemy soldiers. What if they're building them here, right now? If I could get my cell phone on into that truck, we can track them by laptop."
"John Connor, we're going," Sarah stopped him, voice breaking in her frustration and not properly meeting his eyes. "Now." She turned away and stalked over to the driver's seat and pulling open the door to it harder than necessary and the hinges creaking at the sharpness of it. Cameron followed after her on the other side and Sarah threw the bag she'd been holding into the back seat and the weight of it falling off and onto the floor. I looked over at John who hadn't moved, his breathing heavy and eyes watching mine as I saw how determined they were set and knowing what he was thinking before he said it.
"John ...," I started but he was already turning and slinking back to the wall and climbing on top of the dumpster we'd been standing on earlier and scaling up to the window. I made a move to follow and fall back at the same moment, every muscle tense as I tried to think but only one thought coming to mind that I had been drilled on for the past few months and the one I would live and die by: Protect John. Sucking in a breath and holding back a "fuck" I ran after him and scrambled up onto the dumpster just as his legs disappeared through the opening. I didn't bother to look back to see if they noticed we were gone and heaved myself up onto the ledge and turning so I could slide through it and the roughness of it scratching hard against my stomach. I dropped the sharp distance to the floor and pressed my fingers to the coldness of it to soften my weight and John already sneaking to the side of one of the trucks, only the outline of him visible against the shadows. Crouching I ran after him and startling him as I fell to his side and resisting the urge to smack him upside the head for his own stupidity and then my own for following him on it.
"What are you doing?" He hissed, his voice somehow louder than if he had simply tried to ask it normally.
"Keeping you from getting killed," I shot back, resting against the truck and leaning down far enough on it so that the back of my head couldn't be seen through the window. Looking at the positive side of things these men were most likely the type to shoot first then ask questions later. John exhaled loudly and took me by the hand to pull me across the short distance between the truck were against and the next one and pulling me down into the shadows of its side. We waited, my ears pricked for any and every sound before he was off again and pulling me to the back of the truck with the coltan still visible and climbing in over the edge. He held out his hands to help me but I ignored it and climbed up myself, the rough diamond shape pattern on the floor rubbing my hands pink and raw as I did. He crouched around and to the back, fiddling with his cell phone as I kept low in the shadows to watch the door and seeing several men off to the side and not noticing that we had passed. My heart rate had slowed in my chest to even beats that hurt and I dug my fingers into the box I was resting against and feeling splinters under my nails. I wish I had a gun. Any gun, bullets or no bullets just to feel the weight in my hands and the sense of security no matter how hollow. Two of the men suddenly broke away from the group and headed our way with no chance to sneak by them and I shoved John back as he finished and behind the crate so that we'd be hidden from the door. He rested against my back as I waited and their voices louder but more indistinct as my heart rate pounded in my ears and fingers clutched at my waistband to search for something that I had been stupid enough not to bring.
"Okay, let's roll!" A voice called over top of the men by the door and the shadows along the wall changed as one of them climbed in and pulled the rope from the side down and the door shutting in a roll of metal panels. It clicked and locked at the bottom as the light faded inside the truck and the man slid down against one of the crates and shifting himself so he'd be more comfortable. And he had a gun. Fuck.
The sound of the wheels against the pavement was a roaring in my ears and I tried to release the grip of my fingers on a hook cemented into the floor but I couldn't force them to move and had to satisfy myself with that they were cramping and turning white. I licked my lips and tried to calm my heart rate instead but it continued echoing inside my chest and making me feel like I was on low vibrate and the smallest pressure would make me come apart. Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I looked over at John beside me who had his face buried into his knees and was slowly rocking back and forth and clenching and unclenching his fingers into his jeans. Stupid. I shouldn't have listened to him. I shouldn't have followed. I should have decked him one right in the face and helped carry him back to the truck but I shouldn't have followed. I rested my head back against the wall and the shaking of it rattling my thoughts loose and making my grip on the hook harder to hold. But I did listen. And I did follow. And now I was here – we both were – and I had to find a way out with preferably the both of us still in one piece. I closed my eyes to lick my lips again and to try and clear my thoughts to a level where I could understand them and not just unintelligible words that in fear I couldn't process. First I had to take out the guard. I couldn't do anything with him sitting there and ready to attack at any sudden movement. I needed to take him out and get the gun before he could use it. Then at least we'd have that. Then we needed the truck to stop or make it stop ourselves. Couldn't drop out with it still moving or the pavement might cause damage than anything they did. I briefly entertained the thought of jumping out of the open back and rolling through the cars and pavement until coming to a stop but the end result more gory then I wanted and shut it down at that point. John lifted his head beside me and loosened his arms from around his knees. I pressed a finger to my lips to try and keep him quiet but he only nodded and rolled forward onto his knees and reaching around the crate we were hiding behind. What ...? I leaned forward to grab at him and pull him back but we went over a bump and whatever he was aiming for fell and clattered loudly against the metal floor. He jerked back so hard he nearly hit me in the face with his elbow and we both tensed in hopes the man hadn't heard it but the sudden lack of his humming suggesting that he did. Fuck! Resisting the urge to shove John head first into the crate I crawled around the other side of it with him following and the man moving from where he sat to investigate the noise and the three of us like a childish game of tag of following the other in a circle and a large object in between to stop us from climbing over and cheating. I stopped at the crate of coltan and fumbled on the ties holding it shut and let the metal locks drop together so I could wedge my fingers between one of the bars that from a distance I at first thought were vials. It was heavy in my hands and I cautiously stood with it and having only seconds to get used to the weight before I made myself turn around the corner and crack it down onto the man's head. He was crouching when I hit him and froze in place for a second as his body registered the blow before his knees gave and he crumbled. I let the breath I hadn't known I was holding in a harsh gasp and John rushed past me to crouch over whatever had dropped as I slowly knelt and started feeling the rough diamond pattern for the gun. I tapped open the magazine and nearly fell back in relief as I saw that it was full and held it irrationally tight in my hands and felt for the first time in hours like I had the higher ground.
"It's broken," John said and I looked up as he held what had dropped to me and enough of it in one piece so that I could see it was his cell phone but for the screen cracked and several keys missing. I remembered what he said about tracking it and my stomach hardened as it occurred to me now that it was broken and the signal undoubtedly lost. We were on our own.
The vibration of the floor grated my hand numb as I struggled to hold open the bottom of the door with John's hands under it and fumbling at the lock holding it close. His breathing was heavy and he kept grunting in frustration as the wheels bumped or he slipped and the whir of the highway still blurring under the crack and giving no sign of slowly.
"Do you have it?" I asked, knowing the answer but needing to say something as the cold wind froze my fingers and I tasted an increasingly strong metal taste on my tongue.
"No, I don't have it," he said angrily and through his teeth, flicking his hair out of his eyes and his tongue pointed to the corner of his mouth. I adjusted how I lay on the floor to try and hold the door open higher but the chain jerked my attempt short and ran the metal down hard on my wrists so tears stung in my eyes and I bit my tongue in replace of holding them back. John grunted again and turned better on his stomach as he continued to struggle and I felt the wheels under us start to slow and the loud beeping as we came to a stop. We froze for a wasted second before I shoved myself back out and away from the door with my wrists red and chaffed and diamond patterns on my stomach. John slid back a second after I did and we both climbed back through opening between the crates and crouching at the back where we had hidden the man and the block of coltan at his side. I pulled the gun out of my waistband and tried to hold it steadily in my hands but the tremble of them throwing off whatever aim I'd have and making me uneasy. I'd shot a man before. I'd killed a man before. It wasn't easy but it wasn't hard and I'd have to do it again if we wanted to get out of here alive and we needed that more than any of the men out there would need their lives. I repeated it over and over to myself as voices came outside the walls and around the truck but it was no less true to myself then when I'd started reciting it. The chain rattled loose and let the door slide open so it was suddenly too bright and I crouched further in the shadows as much to hide as to block out the light.
"Where's the guy?" One of the men asked and I counted my breathing in an attempt to stay calm and still holding the gun tightly in my lap. "Did he bail?"
"Must have. Guy's been bitching about his money all week," said another voice and I turned to lean my head at a different angle against the crate and ears tensed for if either of them would climb up to investigate. If I got a good shot I could take the first one down but then someone else would hear and they'd come running with more guns. I couldn't take them all down and I wasn't a good enough shot to think that I wouldn't waste any bullets trying. Johns fingers scrambled for mine and I felt them awkwardly twist together hurting but refusing to let go.
"Let's just finish this and get out of here," the first man said and footsteps saddened as they walked away and I looked up so dizzy with relief that my vision briefly dotted back. John made a move to the door but I held his fingers and jerked him back so we both felt the spasm.
"Wait," I warned and strained as the footsteps faded and that nothing replaced them. We waited a couple seconds more before I felt like my muscles were ripping inside me from sitting so tense and nodded to John to indicate that he could go. We moved together and carefully edged alongside the crates to the doorway still open and a number of blue barrels lined up together with warnings that they were flammable covering each one. Not as comforting as I had hoped but better than if the men had stayed. John let go of my hand and sprang down from the back before turning to face me and holding out his arms to help me down. Sliding the gun back into my waist band so I wouldn't accidentally shoot him I allowed him to help me and the muscles in my ankles contracting as they hit the solid pavement. I resisted the urge to collapse down and kiss it but instead let John lead me through a line of chairs and to the side in a series of shadows from different pieces of machinery set up. I leaned back against one of them that hummed unpleasantly and pulled out the gun again and checking that it was still loaded though it was more an attempt to calm myself then something with actual logic behind it with. Satisfied I clicked it shut again and held it to my chest, scanning over the walls for any sign of an exit and my thought process shutting down every time I attempted to consider what we'd do when we got out. There was no way of knowing where we are our how far from Sarah and Cameron and even less of how to get back there. I could hot wire a car but that would take time we might not have and concentration I was still having trouble with. I let my head against my knees briefly before lifting it again to continue searching and John carefully standing up in front of me.
"What are you doing?" I hissed, grabbing for his arm to pull him back but he took my hand instead and made for me to follow him back through the chairs and to the other side of the warehouse. He crouched behind a shelf of supplies and I followed suit just as footsteps echoed on the floor again and I froze mid crouch.
"I told the guy to just be patient," one of the guys was saying but I couldn't tell which one or even if he was one of the guys before. The gun clicked in my hands as I readied it and knowing it made no difference if it came to me having to kill him or not. "Looks like he bailed."
"So he's gone then?" One of them asked and I knew without question he was new and I hadn't heard him speak before. His voice was deep and cold and it hollowed out my insides when I thought about the risk of seeing him face to face.
"Yeah, it wouldn't surprise me," one of the other two explained. "Was bitching about money all week."
"Then I want to thank you for your service," the man with the colder voice said and I dared a peek over one of the shelves as he raised a gun and shot both of them point blank between the eyes.
They didn't make a noise, the only protest the sound of them crumbling to the pavement and laying there still. I raised my arm to my mouth and bite into it harshly to keep back a scream before lowering it again and teeth marks chewed through my sleeve and into my skin. John was terrifying still beside me and I couldn't even look over to check on him as the Terminator slipped the gun back into his holster and just a calmly as if he'd sent them home without bullets in their brains. He walked away in front of the truck with something rattling in his hands and a loud beep echoing after and the only doors in or out of the warehouse closing and dimming the lights as they crunched shut. Emergency lights flickered on and only pale illuminations of blue at certain points around the room but keeping John and me in the dark. I licked my cracked lips and the gun trembled in my hand as I had a sudden urge to throw it in frustration and panic that it would do less than nothing if I fired it at him but forcing myself to tighten my grip instead. It was our only weapon and I couldn't just let it go. I waited for the footsteps of the Terminator walking back around the truck but it was silent except for our uneven breathing and I dared a glance higher around the shelf to see him stiffly standing in front of the doors and as silent as if he'd been carved from stone.
"Hey!" A voice yelled behind and I turned so fast I felt my muscles whiplash and pointing my gun at the man who stood there wearing a beige uniform and the shadows leaving him half in the dark and half in eerie light. He stopped when he saw me holding the gun and cautiously reached for belt where he presumably held one of his own.
"Don't even think about it," I hissed, gritting my teeth to keep them from shaking and glad we stood in the dark so he couldn't see how terrified I really was. His hand froze and he waited, darting his eyes to me then my side as he caught a glimpse of John and saw he was outnumbered.
"Just take it easy," he warned, hands still frozen but his fingers twitching for any second I dropped my guard and he could draw his gun and fire first. "Whatever you're doing here we can talk it out." I laughed bitterly, the sound more hysterical then I wanted and betraying just how scared I was and him noticing it too. He smirked slightly, sensing the weakness and amused that he had considered me a threat.
"Give it here, kid," he said and his hands now out to take my gun from me and a mocking caution to his step like he was trying to calm a panicked animal. You don't want to hurt anyone." I dropped the gun to one hand and punched him as hard as I could so I heard bone crack – either mine or his I couldn't tell – and he crumbled to the floor with a short gasp of pain. My hand convulsed like it was on fire and I gasped as I fell back and glancing to see if the Terminator had heard but seeing him standing just as silent as he was a moment ago.
"What'd you do?" John asked in horror and stepping forward so I could see his face and staring down at the man like he'd lost a friend instead of a man who'd been moments away from blowing our cover. I ignored the question and walked over to his side to kneel at his belt and pulling out the gun he had there. My fingers were tingling and not working properly as I checked the magazine before handing it out to him. He stepped back in terror and looking up to me like he'd blacked out the last few seconds and couldn't remember how I came by a second.
"Now we each of one," I told him, breathless and shaking so it rattled in my hands and him cautiously reaching out to take it and running his fingers over the lines. I looked back over my shoulder at the Terminator who still hadn't move and crouching down lower and closer to the ground as I looked over around the other side and scanning the walls for any other exit. If there were any I couldn't see them and I fisted my hand inside my shirt and twisted to focus on the pain and not the frustration that made me want to tear my hair out in chunks. John came down at my side again and looked around the corner, squinting at the darkness and licking his lips. He glanced around on the floor for a moment before picking something up and lifting it so in a snatch of light I could briefly see that it was a rock and throwing it across the room and at the Terminator. For a moment my heart stopped as it clattered and rolled along the pavement and I hit John in the arm as inaudibly as I could though his cry as protest wasn't as quiet.
"Wait," he hissed and we both froze and listened for a moment for the sound of him stirring and coming our way but it was silent and each second that it was tearing me into relief and terrible anticipation.
"Why isn't he moving?" I asked, the question burning the inside of my mouth in and out and a near giddy desire to run past him to the doors and pound on them until they opened.
"I think he's on standby or something," John suggested though the sound of it more like a question then an answer. We continued to wait and I started to feel adrenaline build and crack in my legs as the silence persisted and I felt the weight of a false sense of security. He could still move. He could still attack. Someone else could come in and we could still die because you couldn't sit still. I crushed my hands between my knees and started to feel dizzy from squinting in the faded light. John slowly stood next to me and I followed as he did, pulling myself up by the shelves and almost doubling back to the floor with pressure still crippling in my legs. We both glanced around for any other exits but instead my eyes catching on a back office with a phone inside and nailed to the wall.
"Come on," John whispered, seeing it too and taking my hand to creep back through the aisles of machinery and crates and to where various switchboards lit up and dotting the floor with pinpoints of red light. He ducked into the office with me after him and with a trembling hand reached out for the phone and pulled it off the hook and even I could hear the dial tone of a connection. We both exhaled at the same time, almost delirious with relief and he dropped my hand to start turning the dial and a grin uncertain on his lips. I tucked my hands under my arms to keep from shaking and looked back out through the doorway and at the Terminator, something more eerie about the way he hadn't moved and almost wishing that he would if only to give me something to focus on.
"Mom?" John asked into the phone, his voice low and hopeful and glancing up to me with that same grin and his shoulders sagging in relief. "Mom ... yeah. Look ... listen ... yeah she's fine too." He glanced up at me to make sure it wasn't a lie and I nodded so he'd think he wasn't. "He's blocking the door. It's like he's frozen." He glanced through the doorway to check that he hadn't moved and I looked back to assure myself as well. "Yeah, when the door shut, it's like he went to sleep or something," He entwined his hands in the cord and anxiously wrapped it between his fingers. "The door ... that put him on standby." He snuck a grin at me, proud that he was right. "Yeah, we run." His voice had gone quiet and with fingers tightly holding the phone he hung it up and held the base of it for a moment and breathing heavy.
"John?" I asked, reaching out a hand to his back but pulling back as he straightened before I could touch him.
"We have to open that door," he said, each word like a weight on his tongue and no lighter in the air after he said them. I nodded, registering but not hearing and knowing that whatever he said there was some kind of action behind it and one I wouldn't like.
The back of the Terminator loomed in front of me and I nervously held the gun out between my hands as I surveyed him, finger tight on the trigger if he moved and knowing that it would probably do less than nothing if I fired. John had his own gun back in his hands though less willing to use it and the shadow of it long at his side. He carefully walked around on the other side of him and to the switch by the door while I carefully raised the gun to the back of the Terminators head and guessing that if I had to take a shot it would my best chance. John pressed at the switch frantically and turned back with panicked eyes as the doors didn't open and silently begging me to tell him what to do next. I crept over to join him – with no idea what to actually do when I got there – and freezing when something glittered on the Terminators neck and reminding me of before and the rattle in his hands.
"Key," I mouthed at John and he turned to look over at him and eyes widening as he registered what that meant. He looked back at me and rapidly shook his so I knew what he thought of it. Fear making me selfish I held out my fist to him and after a second of staring it he held out his own and in the universal acknowledgment of rock – paper – scissors shook both of our fists three times until his came up paper and mine came out rock. Fuck. Lower my arm and tucking my gun into the back of my jeans I cautiously walked around the Terminator and jolting to a stop when I finally met his eyes. His didn't register mine though and only continued to stare at the door, dead to the world but able to wake at a seconds notice if I made the wrong move. I took a deep breath that I took no oxygen from and stepped closer and up on my tip toes for the chain around his neck. I heard John suck in his breath behind me and stuttered to a stop wishing he hadn't. Closing my eyes and licking my lips I opened them again and started to lift the chain from around his neck and over his cheeks, ears and forehead. It brushed through his hair and the moment the back of it touched air I jerked it off away from him and fell back several steps with my heart pounding so fast I felt sick. I watched him for any sign that I disrupted him and finding none rushed over to the switch and slid the key into the keyhole. It caught from being pushed to hard and I jiggled it slightly until it clicked and turned it so the alarm went off and the sound tearing at my eardrums with how close I was to its source and how relieved I was that it was almost over.
"Come on," John yelled over the blaring and pulled me away from the door and back to the truck with the coltan in the back. He opened the side door and crawled in, scrambling at the seats for the keys and his fingers fumbling as he looked. The doors of the warehouse started to part and light streaming in that stung my eyes and made them water. I climbed in after him and slid my fingers between the cushions before finding something jagged and pulling out the set of keys creased together and handing them to him. He took the ring holding them together and started to flip them key by key over his finger and testing each one before the engine groaned and roared to life. The door opened next to us and I turned with the gun in my hands and pointing it at Sarah's face as she froze in the frame and waiting for me to lower it.
"Come on," John ground out between his teeth and fumbling at the gears. Metal against metal echoed over the engine and I looked up at the doorway to see that the Terminator was gone and feeling panicked that I couldn't see where he was.
"I thought you said you could drive," Sarah calmly pointed out and shutting the door behind her and acting as if this was his first driving lesson and we had all the time in the world.
"It's jammed or something," John protested and pressing down on the clutch and becoming more nervous with every second it didn't do anything. The sound of metal on metal was closer this time outside and I looked behind me out of habit but only saw the back wall of the seat and no help to me whatsoever.
"If you want to be a hero, you're have to learn out to drive stick," Sarah said, patience snapping and leaning over me so her elbow was in my lap and her hair in my face. I leaned back as she did something I couldn't see with the gears and the truck finally started moving and crunching down the pavement. A shape stepped in front of the windshield and the truck stopped and wheels protested as the Terminator blocked it with his boots scrapping against the floor and John continuing to try and gun it. Smoke billowed from around the windows and I grabbed the gun Sarah had rested against the seat and crawled out from under her to lean out the window and point the barrel at his face. Light sparked off the end of it as it fired and metal dinged as his head went back and pain recoiled in my arm. Son of a ... John floored it again and this time the Terminator fell and crunched under the wheels as I pulled myself back into the seat and wincing at the tenderness in my arm and what I assumed the soon pretty spectacular bruise. Cameron walked up calmly in pace of the window and to the switch as we drove past and the alarms blared again to signal that the doors were closing. John slowed it to a stop to wait for her and the brightness outside making everything too dark and painful before it slowly started to adjust and the door beside me opened and Cameron slid in to join us and not enough room for all four of us at once.
"Let's go," she said simply and not bothering to pull on a seat belt.
"But can he get out?" John asked, fingers gripping the steering wheel and going white from how tight he held them. Cameron didn't answer, only held up the key I lifted from his neck and the sight of it the best thing that had happened to me all day.
The dust kicked up behind the truck as it rolled down the dirtied path and I pulled my injured arm closer to my chest and feeling it ache as my other hand held the gun at my side. The truck started to pick up speed as it got closer to the edge of the cliff and I saw the shape of Cameron climbing out of its side and on top before carefully walking to the end of it and stepping off right before it plunged off and over the edge. Smoke billowed up from where it disappeared and I heard the distant crash as it hit the water and not enough to the fall that I could see the spray of water come up. Movies often got that wrong and there was something unsettling about me knowing the difference. I leaned back against the front of the army jeep and massaging my fingers into my forearm to try and work some good feeling into it but only making it more sore and dropping my attempt instead. The wind picked up as Cameron turned back to walk towards us and her hair billowing around her shoulders but no sign to her face or gestures to suggest that it bothered her or even if she noticed. John stepped up beside me and glanced over to rest his eyes on my injured arm, silently asking me if I was okay. I smiled faintly at him to show I was, letting my arm fall to my side so I could reach out and take his hand and entwining his fingers through my own. He froze for a moment, surprised that I had taken it before tightening his grip and smiling down at it and missing the grimace on my lips as the action pulled at my muscles but refusing to let go all the same.
I pulled my arm loose of my jacket and wincing as it hurt to do so and turning it back and forth in front of the mirror and taking note of the purple and green bruised that climbed its way up into my shoulder. I examined it carefully and the look on my face as I moved it before letting the other sleeve of my jacket fall and crumbling at my feet. Goosebumps came up under my skin as I stood in my white tank top and the marks still over my wrists from where the door had crashed down on them. I looked myself up and down for a moment and took note of everything I saw whether I liked it or not and wondering if there was any difference from this morning when I'd looked in the mirror. Besides the bruises I couldn't see any and even if I did I hadn't looked at myself the way I did now and even if I did I'd have seen nothing of note to compare it to. I bent down to pick up my jacket and throwing it over my shoulder as I opened the bathroom door and Sarah stepped back from the entrance.
"Uh sorry I was ...," she stumbled slightly on her words and brushed back a strand of hair and glanced away from me and then back as if gathering her bearings and wanting them found before I could look at her closer. "I just ... just wanted to see if you were okay." She looked me in the eyes as she said it but dropped her gaze to my arm at the last minute as if changing her concern and how personal it was to ask.
"Oh, yeah it's fine," I said, looking down at it and suddenly self conscious so I slid my jacket over to cover it. "Just a bruise." She nodded and pursed her lips together as if looking for something else to find and nothing to suggest coming to mind. I waited for it anyway and pretended I didn't know why but the answer so obvious that I cringed at the thought of her hearing it. Because it was nice. Because it was comforting to have an awkward silence with someone and so much underneath it to make it so. Because it was like what I'd remembered having a mom was like and I saw her as the only replacement I'd ever get. The thought hurt more then I meant it to and I suddenly wanted to be alone and away from her and lock myself in my room where I could curl up in a ball and bury everything until I felt hollow again.
"Well I better get to bed ... long day," I said it like a joke and smiled so she'd recognize it as such and catching on she smiled as well though it came off as forced as mine.
"Of course well ... have a good sleep," she nodded as a dismissal and I turned to walk around her and over the floorboards so they creaked under me and making each step seem longer then it was.
"John ...," she said it hesitantly and I froze with my fingers on my door frame to wait for her and see if she wanted to continue or backspace to cover it up and after a moment looked over my shoulder to see her still standing there and tears faint in her eyes. She took a deep breath and tried to smile through them but I could still see them there.
"John said you saved his life today," she tried again and her smile more sincere. "Multiple times. I just ... I just wanted to thank you." She nodded to let me know she finished and a million possible answers running through my thoughts. I had to, his life is more important than mine, I'm his future wife, I made a vow to protect him, he needed saving or he'd be dead twice by now ... over and over until they became a cycle in my head that on each turn made less and less sense but with one thing out of all of them standing out: I care about him. And I would never let anything hurt him.
"You're welcome," I said simply and with her smile turned my back to her and walked into my room and the door closing behind me with a click.
