ii. she must be something
Connor hadn't been asleep for long when he felt someone in the room. Thinking Kate was back, he opened his mouth to ask what she had found.
"John," a voice, not Kate's, said.
Connor opened his eyes disbelievingly. His mother was standing in the doorway, alive and strong, smiling at him. Overjoyed would be an understatement as he leapt off the bed and ran to her, almost knocking her over with his hug.
"Oof, careful, honey," she laughed, hugging him back. "You're injured. Now get back into bed." He obeyed, pulling her along with him. She sat on the edge of the bed, looking at him tenderly. "Look how you've grown."
"Oh, Mom," he said, tears welling in his eyes, "we didn't stop it. It happened anyway. He said it was inevitable..."
"I know, John," Sarah said soothingly. "But you'll do all right. I raised you well, if I do say so myself. And Kate..."
"Did you know about her?"
Sarah smiled. "I'm as surprised as you were. But it's quite a wonderful surprise. You'll be good for each other."
"Isn't she something, Mom?" he said excitedly, almost like he was thirteen again. "You should have seen her. Without her we couldn't have made it out of there. She...she reminded me of...you."
"Well then she -must- be something," Sarah said teasingly. Then she was serious. "You'll be all right, John. I always knew you would be."
Connor was trying very hard not to cry. "I've been so lonely, Mom."
"I know honey, but.that was the smart thing to do," she replied. "I know your life has been so much harder than anyone could know....But you're not alone anymore. And you'll be able to do what you need to do."
Connor wished he had as much faith in himself, but he nodded. He wasn't feeling too good; he was sweating, and his vision was starting to blur. "Mom, I feel sick."
Any other time she would have panicked, but now she just smiled warmly. "You need to rest, John," she said. "Just rest and you'll be okay." She lightly touched his face. "I'm proud of you," she said softly.
Connor lay back down and closed his eyes. "Just don't leave, Mom, okay...? ...Mom?"
When he looked up she was gone. He rolled onto his side and tried not to throw up with grief.
------
Once Kate had finished dealing with her own injuries, she was ready to explore. She hit the kitchen first, quickly deciding that they would not be eating in the large dining room. The whole thing was feeling a just a little too Overlook Hotel for her, and she was pleased to find a smaller eating area behind the kitchen, near the pantry. The pantry was well- stocked, and while the variety and canned and dried foods may have been lacking, they would not starve.
Next she began to look for clothing; they couldn't wear what they had on for however long they would be here. She located the laundry and found a dusty but acceptable assortment of linens and clothing. After loading up a washing machine, she headed for the bathrooms.
Her shoes echoed on the tile floor, making her shiver. She wondered how many other shelters like this were destined for an eternity of emptiness, with rooms that would never hear such an echo, lonely as it was. She thought that perhaps some had made it to safety like they did, though the realistic part of her doubted it. No one else had had a cyborg from the future looking out for them.
She felt a pang of gratitude to the machine John seemed so attached to; if not for him....Well, best not to think about it.
The plumbing seemed to work fine; the water was fresh. Kate stared at herself in the mirror, reflecting on the day's events. -I am going to be a leader...a leader of men and women fighting machines...fighting a war against machines...alongside John...who will lead us all.-
Had she really been shopping with Scott this time yesterday? Had the world really been okay yesterday? It seemed like this coming war was all she'd ever known, even though just twelve hours ago it had sounded like a load of bull. She held her hand up in front of her; the engagement ring on her finger seemed like an artifact from some previous life.
...Poor Scott. She had cared for him, but ever since she said yes to his proposal she had felt trapped. Life with him would have been comfortable, predictable...most likely boring. She had thought her father would approve of him, but thinking about it now she realized her father would have thought Scott was a wimp. He had known John for mere minutes before his death but had liked him, had thought she had 'done the right thing...'
But still, poor Scott. Wimp or not, he didn't deserve to die. None of those people up there had deserved to die, not like that.
She tried to picture herself as a resistance fighter...leading people, distributing weapons, facing an onslaught of HKs. She thought back to what it had felt like to shoot that AK-47, and truth be told, it had felt a lot more natural than she would have thought twenty-four hours before. Her father had shaped her into a better fighter than he could have imagined.
So much had changed that day, the human mind really couldn't process it. Thinking about it all had made her very tired, and she decided it was time to take a nap with John.
On the way back to the bedroom she noticed John's knapsack where he had dropped it in frustration. She picked it up and really, really, meant to just take it with her...but she couldn't help herself.
Inside she found the red folder her father had given them, and she made a choking sound. There was also a handgun, some ammunition for the magnetized AK-47, a notebook (which she didn't open), and a photograph.
She took the photograph out and stared at it; it was old and had been laminated several times, and Kate's breath caught as she realized who it must be. The pregnant woman in the photograph shared many of John's features, not least that odd combination of determination and fatigue.
There was so much she wanted to know. While she had been living a standard army brat existence - - reading Nancy Drew, going to prom, taking the ACT - - this woman and her son were preparing for nuclear war, living in the shadow of the world's destruction. How did they deal with it? What all does John know how to do? What happened that caused him to be a foster child, and what has he been doing since they kissed all those years ago?
She carefully put the photograph back in the knapsack and closed it. The first thing they were going to do when John had recovered was have a long, long talk.
When she entered the bedroom and saw John on his side clutching his stomach, she panicked and ran over to him. But his breathing was steady, his fever seemed to be breaking, and none of his wounds appeared to have reopened. She breathed easier and set the bag on the floor next to him.
Kate lay down on the bed and stretched out, then watched John sleeping. She thought she could relate to how his mother must have felt all those years....Here's this person that you love more than anything, but not only do you need to protect him because you love him, you need to protect him because he's going to be the salvation of humankind. Every scratch, every sneeze, takes on a new world of worry.
She wished she could meet his mother, just to ask her how she did it. How do you raise salvation?
Kate scooted as close as she could without waking him and closed her eyes. Whatever would happen in the future, for the moment she felt safe.
Connor hadn't been asleep for long when he felt someone in the room. Thinking Kate was back, he opened his mouth to ask what she had found.
"John," a voice, not Kate's, said.
Connor opened his eyes disbelievingly. His mother was standing in the doorway, alive and strong, smiling at him. Overjoyed would be an understatement as he leapt off the bed and ran to her, almost knocking her over with his hug.
"Oof, careful, honey," she laughed, hugging him back. "You're injured. Now get back into bed." He obeyed, pulling her along with him. She sat on the edge of the bed, looking at him tenderly. "Look how you've grown."
"Oh, Mom," he said, tears welling in his eyes, "we didn't stop it. It happened anyway. He said it was inevitable..."
"I know, John," Sarah said soothingly. "But you'll do all right. I raised you well, if I do say so myself. And Kate..."
"Did you know about her?"
Sarah smiled. "I'm as surprised as you were. But it's quite a wonderful surprise. You'll be good for each other."
"Isn't she something, Mom?" he said excitedly, almost like he was thirteen again. "You should have seen her. Without her we couldn't have made it out of there. She...she reminded me of...you."
"Well then she -must- be something," Sarah said teasingly. Then she was serious. "You'll be all right, John. I always knew you would be."
Connor was trying very hard not to cry. "I've been so lonely, Mom."
"I know honey, but.that was the smart thing to do," she replied. "I know your life has been so much harder than anyone could know....But you're not alone anymore. And you'll be able to do what you need to do."
Connor wished he had as much faith in himself, but he nodded. He wasn't feeling too good; he was sweating, and his vision was starting to blur. "Mom, I feel sick."
Any other time she would have panicked, but now she just smiled warmly. "You need to rest, John," she said. "Just rest and you'll be okay." She lightly touched his face. "I'm proud of you," she said softly.
Connor lay back down and closed his eyes. "Just don't leave, Mom, okay...? ...Mom?"
When he looked up she was gone. He rolled onto his side and tried not to throw up with grief.
------
Once Kate had finished dealing with her own injuries, she was ready to explore. She hit the kitchen first, quickly deciding that they would not be eating in the large dining room. The whole thing was feeling a just a little too Overlook Hotel for her, and she was pleased to find a smaller eating area behind the kitchen, near the pantry. The pantry was well- stocked, and while the variety and canned and dried foods may have been lacking, they would not starve.
Next she began to look for clothing; they couldn't wear what they had on for however long they would be here. She located the laundry and found a dusty but acceptable assortment of linens and clothing. After loading up a washing machine, she headed for the bathrooms.
Her shoes echoed on the tile floor, making her shiver. She wondered how many other shelters like this were destined for an eternity of emptiness, with rooms that would never hear such an echo, lonely as it was. She thought that perhaps some had made it to safety like they did, though the realistic part of her doubted it. No one else had had a cyborg from the future looking out for them.
She felt a pang of gratitude to the machine John seemed so attached to; if not for him....Well, best not to think about it.
The plumbing seemed to work fine; the water was fresh. Kate stared at herself in the mirror, reflecting on the day's events. -I am going to be a leader...a leader of men and women fighting machines...fighting a war against machines...alongside John...who will lead us all.-
Had she really been shopping with Scott this time yesterday? Had the world really been okay yesterday? It seemed like this coming war was all she'd ever known, even though just twelve hours ago it had sounded like a load of bull. She held her hand up in front of her; the engagement ring on her finger seemed like an artifact from some previous life.
...Poor Scott. She had cared for him, but ever since she said yes to his proposal she had felt trapped. Life with him would have been comfortable, predictable...most likely boring. She had thought her father would approve of him, but thinking about it now she realized her father would have thought Scott was a wimp. He had known John for mere minutes before his death but had liked him, had thought she had 'done the right thing...'
But still, poor Scott. Wimp or not, he didn't deserve to die. None of those people up there had deserved to die, not like that.
She tried to picture herself as a resistance fighter...leading people, distributing weapons, facing an onslaught of HKs. She thought back to what it had felt like to shoot that AK-47, and truth be told, it had felt a lot more natural than she would have thought twenty-four hours before. Her father had shaped her into a better fighter than he could have imagined.
So much had changed that day, the human mind really couldn't process it. Thinking about it all had made her very tired, and she decided it was time to take a nap with John.
On the way back to the bedroom she noticed John's knapsack where he had dropped it in frustration. She picked it up and really, really, meant to just take it with her...but she couldn't help herself.
Inside she found the red folder her father had given them, and she made a choking sound. There was also a handgun, some ammunition for the magnetized AK-47, a notebook (which she didn't open), and a photograph.
She took the photograph out and stared at it; it was old and had been laminated several times, and Kate's breath caught as she realized who it must be. The pregnant woman in the photograph shared many of John's features, not least that odd combination of determination and fatigue.
There was so much she wanted to know. While she had been living a standard army brat existence - - reading Nancy Drew, going to prom, taking the ACT - - this woman and her son were preparing for nuclear war, living in the shadow of the world's destruction. How did they deal with it? What all does John know how to do? What happened that caused him to be a foster child, and what has he been doing since they kissed all those years ago?
She carefully put the photograph back in the knapsack and closed it. The first thing they were going to do when John had recovered was have a long, long talk.
When she entered the bedroom and saw John on his side clutching his stomach, she panicked and ran over to him. But his breathing was steady, his fever seemed to be breaking, and none of his wounds appeared to have reopened. She breathed easier and set the bag on the floor next to him.
Kate lay down on the bed and stretched out, then watched John sleeping. She thought she could relate to how his mother must have felt all those years....Here's this person that you love more than anything, but not only do you need to protect him because you love him, you need to protect him because he's going to be the salvation of humankind. Every scratch, every sneeze, takes on a new world of worry.
She wished she could meet his mother, just to ask her how she did it. How do you raise salvation?
Kate scooted as close as she could without waking him and closed her eyes. Whatever would happen in the future, for the moment she felt safe.
