**Author's Note** Wow _ I'm so sorry for the wait, guys! This chapter gave me so many fits, it's not even funny _; Luckily, however, Chapter 8 is already well underway, so hopefully I can upload it within the next couple days depending on how much time I get to work on it.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy it! Heehee, I love introducing new characters XD

Oh! I've completely forgotten this for the past few chapters that I've submitted, but you guys need to check out the soundtrack I've put together for Blood is Thicker than Coltan. Here's the link! .com/playlist/15640829195 Enjoy, and comments are appreciated!

Chapter 7

Midnight in the alleys of North Hollywood is never a place you want to be caught. With gangs around every corner, it's one of the roughest parts of the city.

Blue lightning began to form around a dumpster in one particularly dark alley. Within a matter of minutes, the dumpster and the asphalt beneath it held a perfectly spherical shape. A young African-American woman was crouched in the exact center of the spherical depression, absolutely naked. She rose slowly, to her full height of 5'7" and turned her head in both directions, assessing her surroundings.

A crash sounded to her left, causing her to whip her head around. She saw two people, a man and a woman, stumbling down the alley and knocking over trash barrels. From their erratic patterns and clumsy movements, it was obvious both individuals were drunk out of their minds. The woman nearly doubled over in laughter as her companion fell head first into a metal trash barrel. As soon as both had fumbled around enough to remove the barrel from the man's head, they finally realized they weren't alone.

"Well, well… Whatta we have here?" the man said, his voice slurred. He swaggered up to the young woman who had just appeared and took another swig of his bottle of Jack Daniels whiskey.

The woman studied him for several minutes, tilting her head to one side, then the other. She was clearly unphazed by the man in front of her.

The man chuckled as he looked at her up and down, earning a smack on the arm from his female counterpart. He looked back up at the young woman and placed a hand on the brick wall behind her, leaning closer to her. "What's a pretty lil' flower like you doin' here, huh? What's your name?" His lips pulled back in an ugly smile and he brought his other hand up, intending to grab at the woman's chest. Instead, he got her hand firmly placed on his face as she pushed him across the alley effortlessly, killing him the instant his head made contact with the opposite wall.

The woman he was with screamed and ran up to him. She glared at the other woman. "Who do you think you are?!"

She gave the woman knelt by the man she just killed an inquisitive look and stated. "Give me your clothes."

The other woman blinked wide eyes and shook her head rapidly, getting up and backing away from her companion. "Oh, no! Hell no, you are not takin' my clothes." After a few minutes, her eyes lit up as an idea popped into her head. She then launched herself at the woman, but was only shoved back down to the ground. The woman she tried to attack hadn't moved a single inch.

The African-American woman looked down at her assailant and extended her right hand, pointing at the woman's forehead. Her index finger began to turn silver, leaving the other woman speechless, and extended itself quickly through her victim's head.

After removing her victim's clothes, the mysterious woman disappeared into the darkness.

* * *

Connor House

My dreams have always been cryptic. They've always been so confusing and surreal. I can always tell when I'm dreaming, though, because good things keep happening to me. And good things usually never happen to me without consequences.

This particular dream wasn't terribly different than any of the others I've had. It was happy…too happy, sadly. I was with Tyler and Sierra again, and we'd won the war against the machines. Everyone around us was celebrating; dancing, singing, yelling joyously at the top of their voices. They weren't afraid to go outside anymore… They no longer had to fear being hunted.

I opened my eyes to darkness. As my eyes became adjusted to the low light I could see the outline of the ceiling fan in the living room. I had been sleeping on the couch since I'd gotten here. The only reason I had a bedroom right after I got here was because I'd been injured.

Sighing, I sat up and instantly bristled at who I saw in the shadows of the doorway to the kitchen. No wonder I'd gotten restless in my dream shortly before waking up. Cameron had been watching me sleep for who knows how long. I glared at her slightly. "Why must you do that? I hate it when people stare at me in my sleep."

Cameron blinked, her expression remaining indifferent, and sat in the recliner across from the couch I laid on. "I'm sorry, I didn't know. You share that characteristic with John."

"Yeah, it comes with being related to him," I shot at the robot sarcastically, knowing full well that a machine like her wouldn't be aware of the reason behind my sarcasm.

She continued to simply stare at me, blinking every twenty seconds as silence fell. (Believe me, I counted the seconds with nothing better to do.)

After several more very uncomfortable moments later, I was getting annoyed with the silence. I looked her straight in the eyes. "How many times have you lied?" Cameron tilted her head to one side as if not understanding the question, even though I know she did. "Don't give me that look. How many times have you lied to me, or to John or anyone else?"

She glanced out the living room window behind me and got up, walking toward it. "I've only lied to protect them, to protect John." Cameron looked over at me. "Humans are fragile. They need protecting."

I shook my head. "Humans may be inferior to machines, but you lack what actually gives life meaning; feeling emotions."

Cameron broke eye contact with me and looked out the window again. "John gets upset when I lie."

I studied Cameron's face for a few minutes. It wasn't composed into her usually blank expression; it almost seemed as if there was a hint of sadness to her face. For a minute I almost felt sympathetic. But in my subconscious, there was a niggling feeling that brought me back to rationality again. What may look like an emotion, such as sadness, was probably only a learned reaction or an action her mechanical brain used as it tried to comprehend the emotions other people felt. "He doesn't trust you anymore, does he?"

Cameron didn't answer. She just kept staring out the window only her expression got a little sadder. Her eyebrows wrinkled and I could see she was struggling to understand.

Sighing, I laid back down and buried my head in my pillow, trying to go back to sleep. Trying to get Cameron to understand lying was bad would be like trying to shove a square peg in a round hole. I doubted I would actually be able to get back to sleep, but I did actually and I was back in my dreamland.

* * * * *

December 28, 2023

Little Mackenzie shivered as she carried a bag of who knows what to the disposal machines. The six-year-old had now been in the Skynet work camp for almost six months. She glanced up at the man in front of her, also carrying bags just as heavy as hers. He had been the one to ensure her survival. Alex was her only friend here.

She looked up at the gray sky above them. Snowflakes were just starting to form and were landing on her nose and cheeks. Mackenzie may have only been six-years-old, but she felt at least fifteen years older. The horrors she had seen had matured her far beyond her years, far too soon. She'd seen more dead bodies over the last six months than live ones.

A sudden, hard push from behind sent Mackenzie sprawling. She hadn't realized that she'd stopped in the center of the rubble and bone-ridden path. When she looked up, she saw a metal monster looming over her.

Mackenzie scrambled to her feet and gathered the bags she carried again, skittering away from the triple-eight who had jolted her out of her thoughts. She started walking next to Alex and they exchanged a glance. Little did Mackenzie know that Alex had something up his sleeve for later.

She sighed slightly as they passed the huge furnaces that made up the disposal machines. How could life ever come to this? Was man really so dependant on machines and technology that they could have taken over so easily? Apparently the answer was yes…sadly. Mackenzie couldn't help but wonder what life would have been like for her if machines hadn't decimated man's population…

* * *

Kyle Reese sighed slightly as he looked through the scope on his specialized energy weapon. He was on lookout, along with one other soldier. What they were looking for, though, would remain to be seen. All they had been told by John Connor was that they were supposed to be looking out for Skynet activity, but specifically for refugees escaping from Skynet. He'd said it was important and anyone they found had to be rescued, no matter what.

"Who do you think we're supposed to be saving?" asked Miranda Scott, the soldier just over Kyle's right shoulder.

He glanced back at her and gave her an inquisitive look. "How do you know we're supposed to be saving someone in particular?"

She shrugged and slung her sniper rifle over her shoulder. "It just kinda makes sense, you know? Why'd he have us out here and tell us specifically what we're looking for?"

Kyle nodded once and looked down the slope and out across the somewhat open plain in front of them. It did make sense. There must be someone out there they were supposed to save…someone specific. "I don't know, but that person better show up soon. I hate being out here for very long. The tin cans could spot us miles away with infrared."

Miranda pressed her lips into a thin line and gave Kyle a reproachful look. "Come on, Kyle, if it was you out there, wouldn't you appreciate being saved from those terror machines?"

He sighed again and kept looking through the scope on his gun. "Yeah, I guess." It was killing him not knowing who John was so intent on saving. Whoever it was, though, should be incredibly important.