A security guard ran up to us, pistol aimed in both hands. "Hands up!"
I raised my hands. Slowly, Reese did the same, one hand still gripping the barrel of his Remington.
"Ok, easy now, fella. Drop the weapon." The guard demanded, inching warily up to us.
But that was as far as he got. Because Reese all of a sudden lunged sideways into me. I hit the ground, hard, breath knocked out of my lungs. A split second later, there was a spattering of machine-gunfire and the guard's body jerked as if on puppet strings while bullets pummelled into him.
He collapsed to the asphalt, his body a shredded field of red holes.
Reese rolled off me. Pulling me up with one hand, he dragged me behind a grey LTD before the Terminator, who had appeared at the top of the stairwell, could set its sight on us.
"Oh my god, oh my god," I stuttered, crouched down, my back against the car. I pinched myself hard. Nothing. "Come on! Wake up, dammit!" I gritted my teeth. The gunned-down security guard was the last straw. Even my friend Larry who was notorious for his practical jokes wouldn't take a joke this far.
Reese didn't waste any time. "Get in!" He shoved me into the grey LTD. I got in. I mean, a choice between a trigger-happy psycho from the future - sorry 'cyborg' - or a gunman who thinks he's Kyle Reese? I'd choose the latter anyday.
He climbed over me to the driver's side and slammed the door shut. Twisting the ignition wires together, he sparked the sedan's engine to life just as more security guards ran up to the Terminator, surrounding him with pistols.
"Drop it, buster!"
"Hands up!"
I ducked below the dash. Seconds later, rattling automatic fire and screams filled the parking lot. Reese slammed the car into reverse. I looked back out the front windshield - the Terminator was standing amidst a litter of fallen dead bodies, his cold compassionless face methodically scanning the parking lot. Then zeroing in on me, he broke into a run straight for us.
