Chapter Fifteen: How to Dust 'Em

When John woke, the house was lit with a dull glow, the daylight outside held back by the thick curtains but still creeping in brightly around the edges. He had slept only intermittently as every sound, every unusual snore or creak from around the house would stir him. He was still used to sleeping alone in a silent bunker with only the only sound being the soft drone of the small generator from the other room and he was still not used to other people being around him. The sounds of them moving about the house, helping themselves to his food as they ate breakfast or rifled through his supplies often put him on edge.

He stood and stretched, taking in his surroundings. Ray was still asleep in his bed, slowly working his way towards a hell of a hangover, and Martin was sitting at the coffee table eating porridge from a bowl and reading the small diary that Linda had found in the dead girl's bedroom. He nodded to John as he stood from his bed and gestured towards a pot on the small burner with some porridge remaining in it. John took a clean bowl and poured it in.

After, he stepped outside the front door and squinted, his eyes taking a moment to adjust to the grey glare of the permanently overcast sky. In the daylight, he saw that the settlement that they had stumbled upon was actually quite small and hidden away, most of it tucked behind the rise of the hill. The houses that they had searched each seemed to be a moderate size and quite surely built, but now in the light he could see that they were nothing more than small, flimsy shacks. It was a mystery to John what the settlement had originally been, and figured that over the years various groups had come and gone and made their own modifications to it. The best he could guess was that it was some sort of base site for workers to live in while they were away from home, and based on some of the machinery and vehicles found in the metal sheds, it looked like they had once toiled the land. But he could not be certain.

To his left, past the house next door, was the large shed that the van was currently hidden in. As John approached he saw that the door had been pulled open and soon spotted the others inside standing around the van. Rosa was on the ground shining a flashlight underneath it, trying to locate where the fuel leak was. The smell of it filled the shed.

They had been talking about the night before and how John had found Ray in Linda's bedroom, though the quiet murmuring from Jimmy died off as John walked in through the entrance into the shade. The two brothers looked at him, while Linda stood near the van with her arms crossed, not looking at any of the others. She didn't appear to want to talk about it and didn't like the others speculating. Rosa crawled back out from under the van and stood up, turning to him.

"I found your leak. It's not very big and shouldn't be too hard to fix. I'll give you a hand."

"No, that's okay," said John. He still didn't like people interfering with his only worldly possessions, the stores that Sarah had spent years accumulating, though her help would be useful. "I'd rather do it myself. Less distracting."

"Fine," said Rosa, thrusting the flashlight into his chest. "Suit yourself."

The two women left, leaving the two brothers in the shed with him. Jimmy looked at him for a moment, then asked, "Did that motherfucker do anything to Linda?"

"What? No. She's fine."

"She doesn't look fine. What was he doing in there?"

"I can't be certain, so I'm not going to make any accusations. And I don't want any of our bullets wasted on him," said John, trying not to appear that he cared much for Ray's well-being.

"Hell, we don't need no bullets," Jimmy said with a smirk, glancing up at Lennie. "He just needs to give us a reason and its lights out for him. That asshole's had it comin' for a long time already."

They left and John crouched down next to the van. He shone the light up and down the fuel line, trying to locate the leak. Damn it, Rosa, he thought. Where was it?

He had been working on it for some time, twisted around underneath the van, tracing the fuel line and sealing the leak, when he heard a voice come from inside the shed.

"Kid?"

Ray. God damnit. John crawled out from under the van and stood up to meet him. He looked hungover, his face appearing to hang loosely from his skull, and he was sticky from the spilled alcohol that had splashed down his front. John stood up and dusted himself off.

"What's up?"

"I just wanted to say… people like us," he gestured at himself, then at John. "We need to stick together. You know what I mean?"

"People like us?"

"You know… real Americans. We need to stick together. It's just us against the rest of them."

"Oh." John swallowed. "Yeah, sure."

"You're young; you don't get it yet. But we're not like the others."

"They're not the machines," said John. "That's all I'm really worried about."

"Heh… Yeah. Sure. One more thing." Ray suddenly reached behind him, drew a handgun and pointed it point-blank at John's face. "Doesn't feel good, does it? Not a nice feeling having your life at someone's fingertip, is it?" John froze. Time stood still and his mind went blank. There was literally nothing he could do. The moment stretched on and the world around him faded away into his periphery until all that was left in the world was the small, dark barrel staring him in the face. Ray put the gun away, tucking it into his belt behind his back, then reach out and put his hand on John's shoulder. "I appreciate what you did last night. Shit could've gotten real ugly."

"No problemo," he said, his throat dry.

Ray didn't leave. The two of them stood there for a minute, the lingering tension in the air not quite dissipated. Tentatively, and without saying anything, John got back to work on the van, climbing down onto his back and laying under the van. He was constantly aware of the fact the Ray was still there with him, simply loitering, perfectly able to just shoot him where he lay on a whim. How he wished one of the others would come back. Perhaps Rosa could have helped him, after all.

"Hey, I think I'm finished with the fuel line," John said, being friendly. "Do you mind starting the engine while I keep an eye on it?"

"Sure thing."

Ray walked around the van to the front door, his slow footsteps moving past John towards the driver's door. John slid himself out from under the van and aimed his flashlight at the fuel line.

"Okay, start it."

The engine turned, the sound of it loud in the enclosed shed, and John saw the tailpipe rattle and shake as the engine roared to life. He ran the light along the fuel line, but didn't see any leaks.

"Give it a rev!"

The sound filled the small space, filling his ears. Still no leak. His repair was holding firm.

"Okay, off!"

The engine died and silence washed over them again. John stood and was about to say something to Ray when he paused, turned his head and listened. What was that noise?

Ray heard it too and, listening carefully, crept slowly towards the open shed door to look outside. John stepped towards the other side, keeping himself hidden behind the metal wall as he listened. It was a drone, the telltale sound of its humming getting louder as it drifted closer towards them. It must have heard the van, John thought. It drew nearer to the shed, circling above it just over the roof before hovering down by the open front door, looking in. It was loud now, humming as it floated only feet away from them as it studied the van in front of it. Then it drifted in through the open doorway and John could see every detail of its metal frame, every plate of heavy armour that protected its spherical form—except for the eye. Only the eye was uncovered.

It drifted slowly between them towards the middle of the shed, hovering above the cracked, oil-spilled concrete floor. In a flash, John and Ray crept silently around either edge of the doorway to the outside and hid around the sides of the shed. John could hear its muffled whirring as it moved about inside, then it turned and drifted out through the entrance again, the sound becoming louder and clearer. His mind raced. Where was everyone else? Could they hear it? Were they hiding?

He crept along the side of the shed towards the back and stepped behind the shack next to it. He just needed to stay hidden long enough for it to deem the settlement empty and leave. He just hoped that the others had the same plan. Creeping along between the shed and the shack next to it, John could hear the constant hum from the drone as it searched from somewhere above. He could not see it, but the hum seemed to grow and fade erratically and at times he was sure it was right above him. He reached the back door of the shack and opened it, cursing it for creaking so loudly, then pulled the door closed and held still.

Looking around in the dark room, he saw the light coming in from outside in thin, bright lines through the walls between each plank of wood, and he hoped that the drone wouldn't be able to see through them.

Suddenly, a gunshot rang out through the air. John rushed across the room towards one of the front windows and peered past the curtain, but couldn't see anything. Another gunshot. A rifle. Someone was yelling, then another shot rang out and the drone fell, crashing hard against the dirt outside. Everything went silent.

"You god damn idiot!" Another voice from outside. Ray. "You stupid piece of shit! You just stood there and let it find you!"

John wrenched the front door open and hurried outside. Ray was ahead of him storming towards Martin, who was trembling where he stood, staring at the downed drone. He was beside a shack further up on the other side of the road. Jimmy and Lennie were stepping out from inside the shack while Rosa was approaching from the main house, rifle in hand. Linda was hanging back under the shade of the porch, watching.

"Ray, settle down!" said Rosa. "I got it. It's down."

"You know that doesn't matter! We're already dead! He's just killed us all!"

John caught up to him. "Hey, chill out, dickwad! It nearly saw us, too."

"But it didn't, did it?" he snarled, turning to him. He took a breath, then turned away, spotting Lennie staring. He pointed his finger at him. "And you give me the creeps, you fuckin' mute. Just stay away from me, you big, dumb, nig—"

Smack!

It was all Jimmy needed. The first punch knocked Ray back and sent blood pouring instantly from his nose. The next successive punches sent him falling backwards to the ground, curling up, trying to cover his face with his hands. Jimmy kept pulling them away so that his fist could meet its target properly.

Nobody intervened. The shared sentiment that he deserved it told John that Ray had been insufferable to them for quite some time now, and watching the scene unfold appeared cathartic to many of them.

The group stood there, not looking away but not wanting to stare as Jimmy beat the older man senseless. John saw the grim look on Linda's face and decided that at the very least, it was penance for his behaviour the night before. Slowly, Rosa turned and led Martin back towards the house while Ray's pained cries filled the air. Eventually they stopped and all that was left was Jimmy hunched over him, panting, and Lennie still standing exactly in the same spot, watching. After a moment, Jimmy stood and stalked away while Lennie followed, and John dragged Ray wordlessly back into the house and laid him onto his bed.

"Right," said John, pulling out and loading some machine guns, his mind racing with plans and tactics. No time to dwell on what had just happened. The others were watching him, murmuring to each other. "We most likely have a HK-Aerial inbound. We need a way to get rid of it." He stepped through the door and looked out at the town. "Are there any vehicles up on that hill? Anything in those sheds?"

"Actually, yes," said Rosa, walking towards him. "There's an old car in that first shed to the right." She pointed at it. "There's no way we have time to get it running, though."

"We don't need to get it running," said John staring up the main road towards the top of the hill. "I just need to get it rolling. You two!" He handed the machine guns to the two brothers. "I'll need your help moving it. Let's go!"

The three of them raced up the dirt road while Rosa, Martin, and Linda hid inside the house. They ran upwards, the dirt hard under their feet. They turned right at the top of hill and ran towards the first shed that they saw. John forced the rusty door open and the sunlight poured in, glinting off an old metal grille and a pair of dull headlights, revealing an old, brown station wagon.

"We need to move this onto the road, facing the highway."

The three of them heaved and strained to move the car, John pushing and steering from the driver's side door. The tyres were flat, hindering their efforts, but Lennie's bulk proved useful and the big man appeared to have little trouble moving it. Before they knew it, they were out on the road, exposed and scanning the horizon for any aircraft coming their way. After what felt like too long, they had the old car in position at the top of the hill, facing down it, just in front of a shack. They wedged the back wheel with a long plank of wood. John hastily jammed the steering wheel straight with a pole and some rope taken from the shed, and paused, holding still as he heard the faint whine of a turbine engine.

"Quick! Get inside!"

The three of them hid in the shack and kept away from the windows, their laboured breathing going silent as they listened to it getting nearer. The walls shook as a low rumble filled the air. A mechanical whine came from above them as the HK-Aerial drew nearer, slowing above them as it steadied itself. Through the gaps between the planks of wood, John could see its dark shape up in the sky above the settlement, its bright searchlights sweeping across the area. The Aerial turned away from them and angled itself so that its nose was pointing downwards, and began to search intently at where the destroyed drone lay. It swivelled around, suddenly facing in their direction, and John quickly pulled back from the wall, hoping that it couldn't see him through the gaps. It turned away again and began to move slowly around the perimeter of the town.

They listened to the turbines as it moved about behind the hill, the roar fading and growing. It was out of their line of sight but it still sounded impossibly close. John looked at the car out the front doorway of the shack. The plank of wood wedging the back wheel was just out of reach. He would have to watch the HK's movements and see if there was a pattern to its search. He had to let the car loose at the right time so that it would see it moving, but without it seeing his arm reaching out through the doorway.

The muffled roaring changed and suddenly the HK was moving around them, a spotlight sweeping momentarily over the shack, streaks of light through the cracks sliding across the floor. It moved on down the road, dust kicking up into the air, and John saw his chance—he just hoped it would turn back around once it reached the end. He leaned out through the doorway and reached for the plank of wood, the car shielding him from the view of the HK. He grabbed it and pulled hard, twisting and turning it as it held firm between the dirt and the flat tyre pressed upon it. The turbines changed pitch; it was turning around. The plank pulled free and John flung himself back behind the doorway just as the HK flew back over the shack.

It lingered as if sensing the change but soon turned and moved away again. The car didn't move. John slid the long plank of wood forwards, wedging it behind the wheel and got ready to push it. He watched the HK through the gaps in the wall and waited for it to return. It swooped around, searching the lower roads, and was making its way back towards the main road again, the car surely in its periphery. John pushed on the plank, moving it like a lever and felt the wheel begin to move. The HK was moving slowly across the middle intersection of the town as the car began to roll forwards, building up speed as its weight took over and gave it momentum. Suddenly, the turbines roared as the HK straightened itself, its nose aiming directly at the car as it rolled away towards the highway. It lifted up higher off the ground and was soon above the shack, moving overhead. It fired a single rocket and a loud boom sounded from the bottom of the hill.

None of the moved as they waited in the shack, waiting to see if the HK would leave or come back up towards the town. They could still hear the engines rumbling as it searched the lower area near the highway and after what felt like several minutes, the sound subsided. The HK-Aerial had taken the bait, destroying the empty car as it rolled away from the town and presuming that it had terminated the survivors that it was aware of. Soon the air was silent, but still they remained in the shack, motionless.

John heard the sound of someone throwing up and turned to see Jimmy rolled over onto his front, hands on the floor in front of him, his half-digested breakfast inches from his face. John stared back at the roof and almost felt the same sensation overcoming him when he heard the sound of footsteps nearby. He sat up and saw Rosa through the gaps in the wall, walking calmly up the hill. She was looking around at all of the shacks and spotted John just within the doorway.

"That trick of yours worked. It's gone. Headed back south."

John smiled to himself and laid back down, and noticed that he was shaking with adrenaline.

-xxx-

The sun was setting and the group was getting ready to head further north. Tecate was still an hour away at normal speeds, but with their fuel beginning to dwindle, John planned on taking his time, keeping the revs low as much as he could to conserve it. Ray had recovered in his fold-up bed and was sitting up, but had not said a word to any of them as he wiped the blood from his face and checked his teeth—one was now missing.

Martin had finished reading the diary from the house and had told the group as they were collecting the guns and ammo about what had happened.

"So this group of people were tired of hiding underground in the sewers from Skynet. I guess they all must have been too good at it because they started to believe that the Terminators weren't actually a threat to them. They started to believe that they just wanted to live just as much as they did, and thought that if they only showed them that they weren't a threat then they would leave them alone. They stole some cars, food and guns, and took off one day and wound up here when they saw the old shacks up on the hill. Their plan was to live in plain sight and live as normally as they could, as if Judgement Day had never happened."

"Who did they steal the cars from?" asked Linda. "Were they worried about them coming after them?"

"Not sure," replied Martin. "The girl who wrote this only called them 'los otros'—the others. It doesn't look like they were too worried about them, though. They settled in and began to pull down the shacks at the top of the hill to use the wood for heat, and the family in charge—the one who lived in this house—set up the moonshine operation to use as a kind of bartering system. Pretty soon the food began to run out, and… well… we saw how that turned out. They convinced the oldest people to sacrifice themselves to be eaten for the good of the community, bit by bit to keep the meat fresh and so they could see for themselves that their sacrifice actually was serving the community well. The treated them with the utmost respect while it was happening, and indulged them in whatever human pleasure they required. They really made it seem like an honour."

"Jesus Christ."

"I know, and it sounds like they went through a few of them. In the end, Skynet sent our Terminator friend through one night to search the place and it shot every person it found. They barely fought back because they didn't want to be a threat, which of course didn't matter. Can't reason with a machine. These guys here heard the gunfire and got armed and ready, and that's where the diary ends."

They continued to pack up in silence, wanting only to get away from this place. The sky outside was now dark, and it was time to head off as soon as they could. They loaded the van with the weapons from the house and repacked the fold-up beds. They also took every bottle of moonshine that they could, thinking that it would be useful to trade with further on in their trip north.

They all climbed into the van and John started the engine, the motor shuddering beneath them as it warmed up, and he drove the heavy vehicle slowly up the hill ahead of them. On the way back down the other side, they all stared at the wreckage of the car that John had used as a decoy to fool the HK. It was in pieces, the ground under it a small crater, flipped and torn apart from the force of the explosion, and served as a grim reminder of what would happen to them if they happened to run into Skynet out here in the desert, alone and exposed.

They reached the highway and turned right, heading north into the darkness.