Moon Dance
November 18th, 2008
Personal Entry # 35
It's been six years, and I still see her face.
She haunts me where ever I am. I can hear her voice; I can feel her touch. When I sleep, I can feel the phantom rise and fall of her stomach under my palm, and the warmth when I held her as we bedded down at night.
It's tearing me up inside, and I'm scared that these memories are like quicksand, the more I fight them, the more they'll consume me till I end up like the old man dreaming her into reality.
There's got to be something I can do to stop it, because if I don't then I'll end up just like her and Dad- crazy, obsessed, and solely dependent on the warmth and comfort of a shadow in my mind.
These days it feels like I'm balancing myself on a tight rope and if I fall …
There might never be a chance to get up again.
"When did the sound of the plasma cannons stop?"
That was what Ryan had been thinking as he laid flat on his back on something hard like a stone slab. His eyes were closed and he could hear a silent drip of water. The room he was currently in smelled musty and damp.
All these things would have sent the young Lieutenant into a blind panic, that is, if it weren't for the comforting feeling of his head buried in the lap of a female with extra smooth skin. The hand smoothing his grown out hair gently didn't hurt either.
Letting out a breath Ryan blinked smoky eyes open to find a beautiful college-age girl with long, elegant black curls, milky skin, and a beauty mark on her right cheek. He smiled lightly at her and stirred, to which she gave a sad grin back continuing to stroke his hair.
"Hey … you made it out in one piece." He said sleepily. Sarah nodded with a guilty look, touching his face as if she had never felt stubble before. "How's the leg?" he asked turning to see a fairly nasty burn scar where a plasma bolt had burned through it.
"They say it'll heal." The girl's voice sounded all the sudden fragile, as if she was almost a completely different person. Ryan nodded, and traced the wound lightly with his finger just to make sure she was right.
It finally occurred to him that she wasn't wearing the standard issue Tech-Com fatigues he had left her in, but a simple cream slip. He had a slightly unnerved face when he remembered seeing that garb before. It wasn't the kind that was worn by any resistance member. He shot up into a sitting position to find himself in what could only be described as a dungeon cell with greenish-gray stone blocks with a flickering light above.
"What the hell is this?" He jumped to his feet, only to be dragged back by irons on his wrists that were attached to the stone slab where Sarah was sitting remorsefully.
"I'm sorry …" the girl sounded as conflicted as she was sad.
"Where the hell am I?" Ryan shouted at her. "Sarah!" he yelled when she wouldn't answer him. Just then a metal door scraped open, and a familiar brown-eyed girl in the same garb as Sarah walked in stoically, and locked eyes with her child.
"I should have known you had something to do with this." He scoffed with disdain for Cameron as two T-800s walked into the room taking guard next to her.
Cameron tilted her head at her son and blinked. "I've saved your life …" she replied searching his eyes. Ryan gave her a dark look of contempt.
"Well forgive me if I don't get you a "Number One Mom" mug." He shook his restraint to illustrate his point. The cyborg had a flash of hurt studying a face she helped create.
After a composing beat she turned to Sarah. "You're not supposed to be in here." She addressed the girl with a commanding stare.
It was at this comment that it hit Ryan that his traveling companion was not being imprisoned with him. He turned to Sarah who tried to avoid the betrayed look on the soldier's face. With pure outrage he snatched Sarah's arm and pulled her into him so he could look her in the eye.
"Why …?" he asked brokenly. Sarah eyes watered as if she was going to beg his forgiveness when a Terminator strode toward him. The machine cocked back and threw a fist at his face.
BEEP!
BEEP!
"Scan Complete!"
Ryan startled awake from a large, leather command chair. In front of him were seven plasma computer screens organized in two stacked rows. All of the screens where streaming information or on mute with local news stations. The room around Ryan was a large concrete underground fallout shelter that was converted into a small command center and garage. Several yards behind him a black street racing motorcycle sat on an elevator platform.
On the other side of the room photos of a clown in a moth eaten top hat and tails were pinned to a bulletin board, along with old news clippings of a trail of murders circa 1947 committed by the notorious "Bonkers" a psychopathic clown. All of which were linked together by strings where the behavior and tendencies matched. Under the board sat a desk with an old police dossier on the murderer's patterns, coupled with a shrinks' report from Pescadero Asylum on their most tenured prisoner in many years.
"What do we have here?" He muttered, trying to clear the college aged girl from his mind as he typed on a master keyboard. On one of the screens two parallel lines appeared and started running.
"Oracle, start audio recording on full sensors." He called out loud.
On his request there was a chirp, followed by a familiar grinding carousal tune. Ryan watched the top line go squiggly as the music played. "Alright … run it through a Gold Wav." He commanded with a tired sigh. With another chirp a small loading bar appeared before the second line began to move followed by a small buzzing that echoed through the bunker. Ryan rubbed his soul patch with his thumb thoughtfully a moment.
"Oracle, confirm audio on tracer two." He typed several keys, bringing up the buzzing tracer line front and center on screen.
"Scanner's report a high pitched buzzing embedded subliminally into the full audio." A female computer voice with a polished and educated English accent echoed through the bunker.
"Can you decipher purpose?"
"System indicates purpose is to manipulate a cybernetic frequency through audio tune."
Ryan lounged back in his chair and looked to a screen with a slow motion picture of a clown with small scanners tracing facial imprints and features.
"So that's how he was controlling her." He sighed to himself.
Suddenly a small alarm rang out on one of the screens.
"Warning: Target proximity alert detected …"
Ryan sat up and looked to the screen.
"Where?"
"Calhoun High School, formerly attended by tenth-grader Cameron Baum."
Ryan typed quickly bring up the school website where he found the reason the clown could be skulking around the high school.
Fall Formal Dance Tonight!
"Bitch whore …"
It was John Connor's opinion that anyone who thinks that machines can't be pissy or petty hasn't met Cameron Phillips. He wasn't sure what he had done to set the girl off, but the last three weeks, the entire Connor household had become a battlefield between the two teens.
It had started simply with a hangover from hell. At the Halloween party, that little astronaut punk spiked the punch bowl that apparently he was the only one who drank from.
But the unwarranted bloodshed began when he apologized to Cameron for anything he might have done that night, because he couldn't remember a damn thing, to which he reassured her that whatever he did, it didn't mean anything. He observed how dressed up she had gotten just for a lazy afternoon as he let her process the information. That's when she gave him the scariest look he had ever seen. Though calm going up the stairs, she slammed her door so hard it popped a hinge.
And so it began.
It started with a week of burned or undercooked breakfast, lunch, and dinners, followed by loud clacking in front of his bedroom door until four in the morning. Whenever he confronted her about it, all she did was give him a blank stare and wander away before he could finish his point.
Now in week two, John decided to fight back at the unwarranted abuse by reorganizing her room, and hiding her ballet slippers and purple jacket. Did he feel guilty when the cyborg turned over the entire house looking for them? Yes, yes he did. Did he feel incredibly childish for doing it? You bet your ass. But was it necessary? He thought so.
But what he didn't see coming was the swift and devastating retaliation in the form of a planted pregnancy test that just happened to be in John and Cameron's bathroom, where it could be easily spotted by his mom. When questioned about it, Cameron simply stated it was Riley's. Now John had to be chaperoned by Sarah whenever Riley came over. The maneuver was so low and brilliant he wasn't sure if wanted to kill her or give her a standing ovation.
But as John adjusted his bow tie he couldn't help but feel as if he was the one who had just one-upped Cameron. Because, even if it meant going to this lame fall formal dance with Riley, he knew his cybernetic rival couldn't go and it would piss her off when she couldn't do her job. His smugness was subsided momentarily by how good he looked in a tux as he stood in front of Sarah's bedroom mirror.
"Very nice …" Sarah lay in bed looking at him.
John smiled faintly at her reflection over his shoulder when he saw just how tired she looked. Sarah had been recovering from an infection she had caught from a cut she had received while checking out the ruined ballet studio. The studio which Cameron had taken a class with Dmitri's sister, when they were looking for the Turk. She had cut herself on a shattered mirror that had suffered the brunt of someone's shotgun duel.
In a manner of days John had gone from the rebellious teenager who wanted a normal life, to the six year old little boy who wanted nothing more than to hold his Mommy because he wanted her to be loved.
"Hey, I can skip out on this if you need me here …" he said sitting on the edge of the bed and looming over her. Sarah smiled warmly as she readjusted her head on the pillow, before she reached out and touched his face affectionately.
"No, I'll be fine. You go enjoy yourself … in moderation." She gave him a poignant look.
John reddened at her comment. "Come on, Mom, I already told you … it wasn't Riley's." John sighed at her. Sarah lifted an eyebrow at the alternative choice of which girl in the house it could be that owned the test kit, and a better question of why she would need it.
"I'm not going to win am I?" John sighed.
A smile graced the lips of the beautiful woman below him. "Nope" she shook her head. It warmed the young man to see his mother's brilliant smile again after what had seemed like an eternity since he had seen it last. They shared the moment for several beats before a knock on the door sounded through the house.
"I guess that would be for me." He shrugged with a sigh. Sarah nodded lowering her hands. John absently stroked Sarah's locks of raven hair that was splayed on the pillow. "You want me to call Derek to come stay with you until I get back." He asked.
Sarah shook her head with a weird look. "I don't think that's a good idea John …" she said with slight nervous breath. John chuckled lightly at her shy, school girl face.
"Why not …?" He looked suddenly suspicious, as there had been a noticeable absence of the scruffy soldier lately. Sarah paused as if looking for an excuse.
"I got girlie around for the time being … so I don't think you need to call Derek." She replied with a nod. John twitched an eyebrow but decided to leave it be.
With a deep breath he leaned down and kissed Sarah's jaw, then her bare shoulder before standing up.
"Have fun"
"Can't make any promises …"
As John reached the stairs he saw Derek sitting on the couch, with a beer in hand and a plate of hotdogs as he watched a football game, while Riley sat on the other side of the couch with a look of interest at him. It was something that John hadn't really seen before; it was as if she had a longing for some sort of paternal comfort from the man who seemed to ignoring her as he munched greedily on his hot dogs.
"Hey what are you doing here?" John came down the steps with a frown at the man.
Derek scoffed at the comment. "I live here …" he said stoically. "But to answer your question the mach …" Derek paused at the blond who gave him a smile. "I mean Cameron called me." He said going back to his food.
"Why would she do that?" John asked. Derek shrugged at the question.
"Said your mom was sick, and that she shouldn't be alone, which I agree." He gave John a glare of disapproval at his attire. John let Derek's criticism bounce off him, rolling his eyes to the ceiling.
"Hey John …" Riley called attention to herself in irritation at the two males ignoring her.
John lifted an eyebrow at Riley's appearance. Her long, honey hair was done up in a bun, and she wore a sequined black dress with lacy straps. Her sparkling lip gloss shined in the illumination of the television.
"Wow … look at you." John chuckled. "Who would have thought there was a lady under there?" he smiled. Riley played the comment off with some harmless outrage.
"Speak for yourself …" she stood and circled the young man, placing her hand on his shoulder as she walked around him. "Who are you and what have you done with John Baum?" she giggled.
"It's Baum … John Baum." He did his best English accent.
Riley laughed out loud at him. "Ohmygod … you're such a dork!" she pushed him.
While the teens played around, Derek tried to hide a look of relief on his face. It wasn't often either John Connor he knew smiled, so to see him doing it now brought a small comfort to the man's hardened heart.
Just then another knock came from the door. John and Derek both exchanged weird looks and turned to the entrance.
"Are you expecting anyone else?" the older man asked. John shook his head and walked to the entrance way and peeked through a closed curtain.
"What the hell?" he turned and opened the front door. "Morris?"
At the front door a smaller Hispanic teenage boy stood with an oversized box of chocolates and a dozen roses. The boy had his usually messy hair combed to the side and he wore a tux that seemed to be a little too big for him.
"Seven right?" Morris asked nervously from the look of his best friend who didn't seem to be expecting him.
"What do you mean?" John asked with confusion. Morris looked around in the same confusion.
"What do you mean what do you mean?" he asked.
"What do you mean what do you mean?" John shot back.
"Cameron didn't tell you?" the teen shifted in his spot.
"Tell me what?" the taller kid asked.
"Dude … I'm taking her to the dance." Morris answered, letting himself in while John's frown turned into a glare.
"You are, are you?" He said, biting his lip out of spite.
"Yeah man, she said she felt bad about bailing on our prom date, so she asked if I could take her to the homecoming or fall formal … whatever they're calling it." Morris said, looking around the Connor's home with an impressed "huh" and a nod of greeting to Riley.
From the couch Derek shook his head and slumped back, muttering something along the line of when did the home of the mighty John Connor turn into a basic breeding ground for plots of a CW show.
John pressed his lips, as he had once again been one upped by the cyborg.
Riley watched John with a dark anger at the very jealous look on the young man's face. She felt disheartened at the thought of everyone ignoring her. She felt as if everyone cared for her here just as much as everyone had in the future, which was not at all.
"Wow …" Morris's sounded like he had just found the Ark of the Covenant.
John turned to his friend, whose eyes were locked to the staircase. Without skipping a beat, he looked to the stairs and at that moment John lost his ability to be anything but an awe struck statue.
Cameron came down the stairs in a silky, purple dress that played off her smooth sun kissed skin. Her curtain of glimmering brunette hair was curled, and caped her bare shoulders. Her makeup paled her face, yet complemented her lipstick which was a deep red. It seemed as if all the oxygen was sucked out of the room as the beautiful girl reached the foot of the stairs and smiled brilliantly at Morris, all but ignoring John, who felt a flicker of hurt in his heart at her dismissive action.
John's eyes seemed to be glued to Cameron as she thanked Morris, smelled the flowers and took the chocolates from him. John felt as if he were going to faint when she decided to snap the stem of a rose, and tuck it into her hair, making her appearance almost too gorgeous to look at.
Before he knew it, John was left standing alone at the doorway with everyone gone. He blinked and looked to his uncle, who was following the cyborg down the driveway with confused eyes. Both looked at each other again.
Derek shrugged to his nephew and went back to the television. The hand of an angry blond snapped John by the wrist and dragged him out the door.
"This is an unwise move."
Ryan smiled at the computer's blunt comment as he set the nicked and scraped pump tactical shotgun onto the table. A small hole had been carved into the wooden stock, into which the officer was stringing fishing rope through. He tied a knot into a loop that would fit tightly around his wrist.
"Oh yeah … how's that" He tugged on the limp rope with his wrist harshly.
"You have had two prior engagements with the target, neither of which have you found a weakness with firearms. Furthermore, in your last encounter at Maria Shipkov's ballet studio, you were almost apprehended by the authorities."
The man smirked as he racked the shotgun and pulled the trigger, which gave a healthy click, before setting it on a cluttered desk in front of the billboard.
"Yeah, that was touch and go for a second … but this will be different." He announced, his leather utility belt clinking as he pulled it around his waist and buckled the scarred silver buckle.
"Yes, there will be a host of adolescents in the crossfire."
"It's L.A. I'm sure these kids know when to duck and run." He shot back, drawing his father's weapon quickly, checking access, before spinning the weapon like a gunslinger and holstering it.
"Calhoun High School is located in a fairly crime free district of the city. In fact many of the families are of upper-middle class origins."
Ryan just sighed as he loaded a duffle with equipment, and glared at a T-888 chip plugged into an interface. "You know, for a killing machine, you sure like to pitch more problems than ideas." He grumbled.
"I'm merely pointing out your oversights as my mission parameter requires."
"Your mission requirements state that you're supposed to watch my back …" Ryan corrected, as he grabbed a black overcoat with a patch of the silver 132nd eagle wing sewn on the sleeve.
"Yet I'm uncorporalized?"
"No offense, but I'm not too keen on having some English rose following me around all day nagging." He pulled on the coat, and popped up the back of the collar.
"None has been taken, sir."
Ryan loaded the shotgun in silence and racked it. "Okay …" he sighed as he emptied a box of twelve gauge shells into the inner pocket of his coat. "You know the drill, if there are any reports of gun fire in my location, reroute the police someplace else." He commanded as he secured the last of the equipment and hitched the bag over his shoulder.
"And if you're injured?"
"Then, put the fake ID in the hospital system, come on now this stuff's important!" the soldier answered in irritation at the run around they went through every time he went somewhere. When he walked up to his motorcycle, the man holstered the shotgun in a hidden compartment on the side of the bike.
"Very well"
"Oracle, activate Security protocol Alpha until further notice …" he called pushing a tool cart out of the way before mounting the bike as the elevator platform began to rise.
"Good luck, sir."
Ryan gave a two finger salute to the chip interface after sliding on his tinted visor helmet.
There wasn't much different about John's old high school since the day he, Cameron, and Sarah attended an ill-fated counseling session in which John and Cameron's councilor tried to persuade Sarah to keep them in school. Suffice it to say, when John hauled Sarah off after she had broken the bureaucratic woman's nose when the pride scorned administrator claimed that there was possible sexual abuse in the home between John and Sarah, the staff wasn't too sad to see the strange Baum family leave.
The gymnasium was filled with dressed-up students, who were texting and talking to each other. All wore expensive dresses and other formal wear. The gym was decorated in true high school dance committee over-the-topness. Pink streamers traced the gym walls, at the double door entrances banners welcomed students and a disco ball lit up below the score board. Tables surrounded mid-court where a dance floor accommodated the vulgar grinding and other hormone driven provocative dancing favored by the sex crazed teens of the generation.
There was a part of John that didn't want to be back in this environment. The gossiping and the "OMG what a SKANK!" and other such trivial teen dramas had made being the loner the cause of outlandish rumors to try to explain the kid who never seemed to be interested in what was popular.
With a look of disinterest, John rocked back and forth on the back legs of his seat. He had told his friends, including a surprise show Cheri Weston, that he didn't much care for the music. It seemed that was why he was in a dark mood; that made some of the guys at the dance wary, while those of the cheerleading squad hot for the young man.
"Every girl wants to fix a bad boy."
John wasn't sure he would call himself a bad boy, but then he had to admit, his felony record spoke volumes to the query- blowing up Cyberdyne, stealing Coltan shipments, and, most of all, killing a man.
But the real reason John was angry was something that he couldn't really share with anyone. It was something of a fantasy of his to take Cameron to one of these dances. Back when Morris had asked Cameron to the Prom, he wasn't thinking. His mom had called saying it was urgent, so he had just told Cameron to say something for the time being. Now as he watched her, with the flower in her hair and that smile for someone else, there was a frustration and disappointment at the whole situation. He let out a sigh when he looked around the gym.
Meanwhile, Riley sat on the other side of the table looking out at the dance floor longingly, her cheek pressed into a knuckle. "Hey John boy … how bout we dance off that frown!" She eventually called over the migraine inducing dance music that blared through the court.
"I'm good!" John responded folding his arms with irritation.
His date laughed off his answer and walked in front of him trying to pull him off his seat. He didn't budge as she tugged on his arms.
"Why not?" Riley whined playfully, continuing to pull his arms with amusement at the limpness in them.
"Tried it once … didn't like it." John was short, and sounded slightly bitter.
The girl frowned irritated at the youth, but she shrugged it off and started to dance in front of him, backing into the crowd on the hormone thick dance floor. As she reached the mass of bodies she motioned the young man to follow her with seductive coursing of her index fingers. John shook his head silently with a lack of amusement. Riley sighed, and waved him off as she decided that she would give him some time before he came back to her.
Cameron wasn't the only thing downing John's mood. It was something more deep and existential. As he looked at his peers dancing and talking about new reality star's clothing lines and school gossip, he couldn't help but find that he didn't care for any of it. He had lived with the thought of Judgment Day looming over him since he was nine, so what was important to the people in the gym was disregarded as useless to him. He had more pressing matters to deal with and thus he was inherently a loner from his disconnect to society.
He sighed sadly, got up and exited the gym
On an unguarded ladder, Cameron ignored a warning for all students to stay away from the hatch. But, since she wasn't a student, she felt her disregard for the warning was justified. With careful balance, as not to slip on the high heels she had borrowed from Sarah's closet, Cameron climbed the ladder until she reached the hatch and found that it wasn't only unlocked, but popped slightly. She pushed it open and climbed to the top to reveal the school's roof. She closed the hatch, and strode toward the edge, and was immediately fascinated by the Los Angeles skyline that was clear and visible from the spot.
The city lights at night took on the appearance of little crystal being exposed to light. Cameron still hadn't gotten used to the sparkling Metropolis's appearance without the rubble and desolation, though the fleet of helicopters that flew about it did make her think of Skynet's HK patrols. From below the sound of a harmonica sounded over the seemingly quiet night. The tune was slow and slightly familiar, as if she had heard it somewhere before.
"Maybe John played it for me in the future?"
She looked below to find a tall male shadow in an overcoat leaning against the wall of the nearby school auditorium. Cameron was compelled to scan him as a threat, but desisted as she concluded that he was ignorant of her presence.
"He's pretty good, huh?"
Cameron turned to the sound of John's voice to find him sitting on one of the upper most floors of the roof looking down on her.
"You snuck away again." She said with a hint of irritation. The teen shrugged at her statement. There was a pause between the two as they listened to the song carry on the wind, while looking at each other, as if it were setting a mood.
"What are you doing out here?" Cameron called again.
The teen grinned and turned away from her, back to the city. "Listening …" he commented. Cameron tilted her head to listen again.
John silently observed the girl with an affectionate smile. "Come on … come and take a seat." John patted the spot next to him.
Without hesitation, the cyborg climbed the steps and settled next to John on the edge of the higher plateau. After making herself comfortable, the two locked onto one another's eyes for a moment. Eventually John let out a nervous chuckle, and looked down into his lap with a scratch to his neck, while the girl next to him gave a ghost of a smile and turned away.
"Why are you up here?" he asked after a moment.
"I tracked your foot prints here when they began to count votes for homecoming court." She answered with a docile softness. John snorted at her comment.
"How very Davy Crockett of you." He sighed. Cameron twitched an eyebrow at the reference, and opened her mouth to speak but John lifted a hand. "Let's leave it at that." He interrupted her.
The elegant young woman nodded and the two listened to the song again. There was a comfortable silence as the man seemed to be letting it all out.
"You know Morris is going to be looking for you." John said, not looking at Cameron as he made his comment.
The girl looked blankly at the young man with coldness to the stare. "Riley is going to be looking for you, also." She shot back, not flinching away from John's silent criticism. There was sudden tension between the two as John glared at her comment.
"Yeah, I guess she would be." He sighed, not flinching either from her heart clenching look of rejection.
There was quiet between the two again as both paused to acknowledge that they had not only hurt one another over the past three weeks, but since that morning in the church.
"Why Riley?" Cameron asked after a moment in a delicate innocence that would have brought John to his knees if he wasn't already sitting.
John sputtered his breath at the deep question and shook his head with a clearing of his throat. He tried to speak, but he came out empty as Cameron's doe golden eyes seemed to portray a fragility that John couldn't quite believe he was seeing.
"I guess it was a lot easier to distract myself with someone else, than to sit and chew on what's going on in here." He thumped the right side of his chest with a sigh, it seemed such a Reese expression and answer. With that said, he looked up at the moon above them. Cameron watched the motion and did the same, watching the round orb in the sky as well, being cast into thought.
There were many things going through the cyborg's mind. She knew what he meant, but how was she supposed to go about their relationship? The plan all along was to separate herself emotionally from John. Yet why was she so attached to him, despite changed mission objectives, and why do these uncontrollable ticks and urges override her mission software that should be keeping her on task?
"Well it a marvelous night for a Moondance
With the stars up above in your eyes"
Cameron turned from her observation of the moon, to John who seemed to be transfixed on her as he sung, as if he was cast under a spell that he couldn't fight anymore. His voice was in tune with the song as if he had some sort of subconscious connection to the harmonica player.
"A fantabulous night to make romance
'Neath the cover of October skies"
He concluded the singing abruptly and seemed to be captured by Cameron's very human look of enchantment at the young man's almost natural talent of singing, something that John in the future had never shared with her.
"When my mom and dad where together in this dingy motel, Mom turned on the radio and this song he's playing came on. The both listened to it, staring at each other, and from that moment they made a connection that Mom still has to him." John explained as if he were seeing it so clearly, as he drank in Cameron's sheer beauty being radiated in the moonlight. With the song playing in the background, it was almost as if history was repeating itself.
"You kissed me" Cameron stated, as if responding to his story. John looked almost shocked at the statement. "At the Halloween party … you kissed me and I kissed you, but then you said the next day that you didn't mean it." She started.
"What I said was right … I was drunk and what I did didn't count for anything." John said sternly.
Cameron blinked at the sudden emotion she couldn't quiet comprehend, but the closest she could label it was the feeling of what human's would call hurt.
She turned her head toward the skyline again. Then a hand took her cheek and turned her head so that she could look into green eyes. John brushed some of her curls behind her ear and stroked her cheek.
"But I'm not drunk now …" He pushed his lips against her warm wet ones, sealing a passionate kiss that consumed both of the two's beings. Cameron leaned her head into John shoulder, while John wrapped his free arm around her waist, pulling her close into an embrace.
As the couple kissed the sound of the harmonica continued amongst the distant echoes of cars and cicadas.
Riley sat next to Morris as the two teens waited on their dates to appear. The blond felt incredibly stupid for not sticking with John. Usually she could get him to do what she wanted, but tonight he seemed different. She wasn't sure what had happened, but she had noticed that he was beginning to take a less of an interest in her and the two were starting to drift.
A part of her didn't know how she felt about that. She didn't want to let Jesse down, but if John didn't like her *like her*, then she could live with that, she and Jesse would be free to live their own lives and maybe even live them together. Plus John would always be her friend which is more than she had ever had before in the tunnels. So she didn't see a no-win in her situation.
With a glance around, she noticed John and Cameron re-entering the dance, their hands clasped together. John had a grin, and Cameron an almost glowing smile on her face. Riley glared at the cyborg. She had overlooked the one thing that could ruin her no-lose situation. The machine could easily kill her, or even worst take John away from her; which in turn would make Jesse angry, and then she would leave. Riley felt that was something she couldn't handle.
Noticing the blonde's hateful stare, Cameron whispered something in John's ear, to which he begrudgingly released the girl's hand. But the two still kept a close proximity as they walked back to the table, to their dates.
"Where did you guys go?" Morris asked as he stood up in Cameron's presence.
"We were just making conversation." Cameron shared a private smile with John behind her. Riley glared at the sight of the girl almost leaning back into John's chest.
"That's a bit weird …" she sighed ,giving the two a small, freaked out look at the implication that only she caught on.
John panicked slightly at the thought of someone thinking he had been making out with his twin sister. Cameron's eye twitched in irritation when John stepped away from her. Both girls shared a tense moment before Morris escorted Cameron to her seat.
Just then the lights went black, and the music cut off momentarily. Everyone stopped and looked around in confusion and panic, the sound of grinder organ music began to play over the speakers. The song was disjointed and chaotic, with a slight hint of insanity.
The light to mid court turned on, and a larger obese clown appeared. His disgustingly burnt face only veiled by smeared on clown's make up, brought a small groan and gasp as the man began to laugh with a maniacal, childlike amusement and started to juggle colored balls. The students seemed to be confused, but figured that had to be a prank engineered by a fellow student, so they laughed at the clumsy skits that followed his juggling act.
John didn't like it at all; in fact there was something about the clown that was downright creepy. Without thinking, he protectively placed an arm around Cameron's waist, only to see that she had a face akin to a thoroughly amused little girl as she laughed at the tricks. It didn't escape John's notice that the clown seemed to getting closer and closer to them, and he didn't like the way he was looking at Cameron, who didn't seemed to be acting like herself.
Just as the clown got close and was groping at Cameron, the sounds from behind John turned his head. A figure in black stitched coat with the back of the collar popped up, appeared several paces away from them, pushing kids out of the way. Then as if in slow motion, the shadow pulled a familiar tactical shotgun from underneath his coat and aimed it at the clown. Instincts took over John, and without thinking, he tackled Cameron to the floor amongst screams.
BOOM!
SHEEK, SHEEK
BOOM!
Looking up from the ground, he saw the clown was sent back by the force of the shotgun blasts, but a red force-field bubble appeared in front of the clown on the ground. With a twitch, the obese clown sat up with a painful looking smile on his face that oozed puss from opened burn blisters. Seeing the ineffective use of his weapon, the shadowed man took off for cover, as the clown pulled an Uzi from inside his tails pocket, and unleashed a spray of bullets as the shadow slid across a far table and turned it over.
John lay on top of Cameron for her protection as he watched the gun fight. The shadow appeared briefly from cover to fire off a shot, before he ducked behind the overturned round table, as the clown unleashed another burst.
All around John, students were screaming and stampeding for the exits. With a jump to his feet he pulled Cameron up. She seemed to have a blank, almost dead, look in her eyes as the maniacal music continued to loop over the speakers.
With hyena belly laughs, the clown turned the sitting area into swiss cheese as the shadowed figure rolled the metallic table on its side as he crouched behind, using it as moving cover. The clown backed up, until he reached the double doors that led into the school. He gave John and Cameron a chuckle and a snap of his teeth, and with a tip of his top hat he disappeared through the doors.
"Come on we've got to go!" John took Cameron's hand, and was in the process of pulling her when a group of lacrosse players trampled John on their way to the exit. With angry frustration, John struggled to get back to his feet. Feeling a feminine hand snatch him by the arm and haul him up, John felt relief looking up.
"Cameron …" John stopped when he saw a traumatized Riley. She looked like John had betrayed her in the worst way. "You alright?" he asked distantly, feeling a fear that came from losing track of Cameron.
"I'm …" the blond started emotionally. John's panic-struck look paused the girl, as he searched frantically around the gymnasium.
"Where's Cameron?"
Down the white and powder-blue darkened hallways, a teenage girl in a silk purple evening gown followed the sound of carousel music that was echoing through the wide corridor. Once again a look of childlike wonder played across her face as she followed the sound. A bright smile was plastered across her ruby lips as she started to skip to the music like a little girl would.
She stopped when a chuckle echoed through the silent hall and the sinister shadow of a large individual in a top hat motioned her to follow with a wiggling finger. The girl squealed with laughter and complied. Climbing stairs to the second floor, and passing through dark hallways and around corners, she was slowly being drawn farther and farther into the school.
As Cameron skipped by the metal shop classroom, a pair of gloved hands snatched up the girl making her yelp as she was pulled inside the room. Suddenly, the look of wonder melted when she was slammed back first into the now closed door to the room, her face turning to an emotionless mask. The clown grinned villainously and led the blank canvas of a cyborg to a cleared table.
He stroked his chin like an artist in contemplation, and pressed the girl down on top of the table into a lying position. With a chuckle, he hopped to where her curls were splayed out on the thick workbench, and with a clap of his torn gloved hands he extracted a knife from his sleeve. Whistling, the obese man began to cut into the girl's scalp, carving a semi-circle. He began with obnoxious humming; pulling the flap of skin up, to look upon a blood smeared metal skull. Then with a victorious chuckle, he removed a restrainer bolt from his pocket, and placed it over her chip hatch. The device glowed a faint black when he activated it by remote control.
Satisfied, the smeared make-upped killer hopped back, and with a click turned off the recorder. With a growling, sadistic giggle the clown waited for several minutes until a mechanical buzz signaled his victim's return to consciousness. The girl turned her head, but did not move.
"Hello …" she said flicking her eyes from side to side at her surroundings. The clown whistled and waved in greeting. Cameron turned her head to the ceiling, flexing her fingers and moved her legs, but that was all.
"You have disabled my HUD and several of my motor functions." She said with a dangerously cold voice.
"Um hmm …" the clown nodded with a playful smile. Then while whistling, the man strolled up and looked Cameron over like a piece of meat.
"Whatever you think to gain by torture is illogical, I'm a machine and do not feel pain." She commented emotionlessly, looking at the clown's crazed red eyes.
He merely shushed her, placing a finger on her lip. Taking his knife, the man began to trail the flat end of the blade down her nose, then slipped it between her lips, bobbing it up and down obnoxiously in a sadistic sensual action, before extracting the now saliva coded knife and began trailing it down her neck and in between her cleavage and down the dip to her stomach before he stopped at her lower belly, her saliva gleaning the trail her made over her body.
Then with a sudden grunt, the clown dug the knife through the silk and skin making a large incision. Cameron said nothing only blinked at the action. Beginning to hum again, the fat man cracked his knuckles and with a hard stare into Cameron's eyes he began to push his entire fist into the large cut. Cameron let out a human-like shallow breath and twitched a little as the clown began digging inside her pushing his hand deeper into her.
"Whatever … it is you're looking for … it's not there" Cameron tried to keep a calm attitude despite her jerking upper body and broken voice, her sensors feeling his hand digging through her insides and brushing her lower endoskeleton
. After several more moments it became apparent to her what he was searching for. "Your attempts to find Allison Young's egg are unwarranted as my model is …" she stopped when the clown chuckled victoriously. A very human fear that she couldn't understand ran through Cameron as she felt a finger tickle something inside her.
CRASH!
A muddy brown motorcycle boot kicked the door open, and a figure in a black coat and navy t-shirt stood in the doorway. The clown quickly removed his hand from inside Cameron. The soldier fired a slug from his shotgun. The clown was forced back as the shield stopped the spray of pellets. The man again racked and fired, this time sending the clown through the window, where the overweight killer caught on to the ledge. With another pump the man pulled the trigger.
CLICK.
"Damn it …" Ryan cussed seeing that he ran out of shells.
Taking a moment to watch the clown was swinging to pull himself up, and judging that he didn't have enough time to reload, the soldier rushed up to the helpless cyborg who was watching the fight intently,.
"Captain Phillips, 132nd SOC." Ryan introduced himself to the suspicious killing machine first. "Can you walk?" he asked as he pulled Cameron into a sitting position.
"Barely, he shut down most of my systems." She answered honestly. Ryan nodded, and shot a quick look to the clown who was struggling to get back into the room. The officer tossed the beauty's arm over his shoulder and helped her to her feet. Using the future soldier for support, the two exited the room quickly.
Ryan dragged Cameron with an arm around her waist as fast as possible while they raced through the darkened corridors. Behind them the shadow of an obese clown followed cheerily, skipping and whistling. Feeling the clown getting close, Ryan stopped and gently moved his mother and himself behind a corner for cover. Digging in a duffle bag he'd unhitched off his other shoulder, the soldier pulled out a pipe bomb. Cameron lifted an eyebrow at the homemade explosive as he lit the fuse and let it burn for a moment before he broke cover smoothly, tossing it down the hallway near the amused fat man. Turning back for cover, Ryan instinctively pulled Cameron into a protective embrace, tucking her into him. There was a loud explosion that followed, shaking the corridor.
"Will that work?" Cameron looked up into matching mocha eyes.
"No, but it will make him stop and reconsider his life choices for a moment." Ryan assured her with a pant.
The corridor began to fill with smoke. Not waiting to confirm anything, Ryan pulled up the rope looped to his wrist up to his shoulder letting the shotgun hang. Then with a grunt he swept Cameron off her feet and into his arms, carrying her down the hallway quickly.
"John we should go …"
Riley whispered, following the determined young man into the dark school.
"No … not without Cameron." He gritted.
To say that John was pissed was sorely understating the obvious. He was already going against everything his mom had ever taught him about these situations, but he couldn't, or more to the point wouldn't, leave Cameron. But what was making him tense was the fact that he had a blonde girl with him that he had told to get lost, but for some reason she wouldn't. He would probably kick himself later for not getting her to leave, but he couldn't waste time trying to explain the reality of the situation to Riley.
"I can't let anything happen to Cameron."
The two teens crept through the shadows, sidling doors so they would not to be caught in the open like John had cautioned. Every so often John would call Cameron's name in a harsh whisper. But he got no response, which in turn would take them deeper into the school.
They had reached the stairs when the sound of shotgun blasts echoed from the hall, shortly followed by a deep boom of an explosion that rattled the ceiling.
"Cameron!" John ran to the staircase when he saw a shadow appear moving fast with a familiar silhouette in its arms. The two met at the foot of steps and locked eyes.
John was shocked to find the man to be the same guy from the diner three weeks back. He had the same designer scruff and grown out black hair and if that wasn't distinguishing enough; he had a recognizable facial scar across his eye. The two shared a silent moment; before a belly laugh echoed down the stair well, and the beginnings of a shadow of a top hatted figure began to form on the wall.
"Follow me." Ryan said with a pant at his future mother's weight.
Leading the way down the hall; the soldier stopped at another cover corner, and set Cameron down. John didn't hesitate to collect her in his arms. However, in taking her he felt a gooey wet substance on his fingers and he smelled blood.
"You're hurt …" John said with a deep concern for her. Riley looked to the dark blotch on the shiny fabric of Cameron's dress.
"I'm fine John …" She looked at him intimately.
"Hey, focus!" Ryan snapped at his parents. "The Bastard's got a restrainer bolt on her so she can't move her arms and she won't be running out of here." he sighed tensely as he reloaded the shotgun, with one of the shells between his teeth.
"And who are you …?" John growled at the man's tone.
Ryan shot the teen a reproachable look. "The man who just saved your girlfriend" He shot back, removing the spare shell from his teeth and loaded it into the tactical weapon. Riley seemed to flash with anger at the comment.
"He's an officer … Tech-Com." Cameron gave John a poignant look, to which Riley twitched nervously.
"Then it's one of 'Them'?" John asked. Ryan racked the gun before he answered.
"No, it's a test tube clone … with a personal energy force field." He shook his head, being cast into thought for a moment, he looked at John in a way that no one had in his entire life. It was a look of pure trust and confidence. "This guy's got too much downloaded in his head. Because of it, his mental psychosis is starting to revert. He's one of the most dangerous killers in the world, with a grade school mind set." He addressed the teen as if he was giving a superior officer a field report from the front or a longtime partner the quick rundown. "He's absolutely insane and unpredictable." He warned.
"And he's after me …" John felt guilty as he thought of the possibility of the loss of life that another one of Skynet's killers had racked up while looking for him.
"No … he's after her." Ryan motioned to a limp Cameron in John's arms. Both exchanged looks before going back to the soldier.
"Why's he after me?" Cameron asked with a frown.
"Long story …" The man cleared his throat to change the subject.
Suddenly Riley spoke out loud in thought. "So, like, if you said that he's got a force field … then how are we supposed to stop him." She turned to Ryan then John and Cameron.
"We're not going to." The raven haired man responded, untangling the shotgun and tossing it to John. "I am. And I'm going to do it the old fashion way." Ryan finished unhitching the bag.
"Wait! What?" John protested catching the gun.
"Look … I'll fight him off and you get her out of here." Ryan ordered, pulling out a long, short-sword like combat knife. While John looked at the weapon; Cameron appeared troubled at the prospect of being protected by John; it should be her protecting John, instead of the other way around.
Ryan looked at the two and scoffed. "And here I thought a role reversal was healthy for a relationship." He joked to the two teens, before tossing his duffle to Riley. With one last good look at his parents, with a feeling of completeness to see them alive again and together, Ryan saluted with the knife and disappeared up the stairs.
For some reason John couldn't help but feel absolutely horrible for letting the soldier go out there by himself, with a turn of his head he saw that it wasn't sitting right with Cameron either.
The three teen's trip to the car seemed fast while John prepared for the inevitable arrival of the police. But when they reached the parking lot there was no one there but some sobbing students.
A deep almost primal need to go back into the school and help out the solider who had rushed to face Skynet's jolly little short bus rider, was pushing John. However, his main concern was getting Cameron to safety from the man who was after her.
This was a landmark for the young man. He had never been put into the driver's seat of these kinds of situations, where he was in charge of keeping two people alive, while figuring a way on how to stop an enemy that couldn't be killed with conventional weapons. He quickly reminded himself to kiss Sarah when he got home, finally stepping into his mom's everyday shoes.
"I guess the future came early."
With silent pants he helped the heavy ballerina to the Dodge Ram that the four teenagers had taken to the dance. Riley and John helped a limp Cameron into the passenger's side. John sighed as he lingered on the mostly paralyzed cyborg that turned to gaze back at him.
"No, John …" Cameron protest when she caught a spark in his eye. Her comment only hardened his eyes.
"He's one of my men … I can't leave him in there alone." He explained to Cameron, who was shaking her head at his response.
"No … John, you can't go in there … you can't, John , you can't." she kept repeating herself getting more and more visibly upset as her pleas fell on deaf ears. "Please, John listen to me … you can't go, I don't want to you to go." Tears in her eyes softened green orbs, but not his resolve.
"Why not? People say that they die for me … why can't I do the same for them?" He replied in frustration and gritted teeth. John was expecting for Cameron to launch into a Sarah Connor-esque rant about being the future leader and "If you die Skynet wins" garbage, but instead he got something he didn't expect.
"If you die … I'll have no purpose in life." She said in an emotional admission that John had seen before while Cameron was trapped between two trucks. "John …" she paused a second, pools of chocolate bathed in fear and slight panic. "I can't live without you."
There was a stifled gasp from the young man as he watched tears leak from the mascara thick eyelashes. Cameron's confession was as good as a plea of everlasting love for him. Once again he stood thinking about what his best friend was begging him not to do. And like before, he went with the hard decision.
John turned to Riley, who was confused and had a pained look to her. John grasped her shoulders and shook her to get her focus.
"Riley, listen to me I want you to take Cameron to my house." John said handing her the keys.
"No … John!" Cameron cried out in protest. Riley looked visibly disturbed by the emotions being shown by the cyborg.
"Riley!" John shook her back to him. "Can you do that …?" he asked. The blond took the keys numbly.
"But what about you?" she said in a daze. John just glared.
"Can. You. Do it?" He growled, ignoring the blonde's question. The girl nodded her head silently. "Then go …" John gave her a push to get her started. There was a strange look of rejection on Riley's face as she disappeared around the other side of the truck.
"John" Tears where now flowing freely from Cameron as she was powerless to stop the Hero from entering the fray inside the abandoned school.
With one last look to the teary eyed cyborg, the determined hero touched her cheek, with no words needed to be spoken, to ensure his feelings before he closed the car door.
There was an eerie silence that roared through the halls of the high school, making the silent hunting of man vs. monster a chess game in the dark, each sly movement, every shallow breath became an advantage to the opponent in the dark close, quarters. It would only take one misstep to end the life of one of the players of this perverse version of hide and seek.
Ryan's steps where slow and precise as he slowly stalked the clown, his knife in an upside down fighting position. It was common knowledge to anyone from the future that when faced with the prospect of hiding; the knee-jerk reaction was to go underground, so that was why Ryan advanced on Mr. Florin's auto shop classroom.
The flicker of a light inside the room showed the outline of an older man in a grey jumpsuit lying face down on the floor under a single light on in the middle of the room. Seeing the man, the soldier rushed through the door and knelt next to the body. He was in his late fifties and had silver hair with a shiny bald spot. Ryan turned the man over to see his hazel eyes where frozen in shock, and his mouth had semi-dried green crust at the edge of his wrinkled lower lips.
"Poisoned"
Ryan saw a puncture mark in his right palm that had a faint green hue on the entry point.
While checking the old man, the officer seemed to miss the silhouette of a large, formally dressed clown looming behind him. Sensing the presence; Ryan threw a stab at the clown's chest, but the scarred killer caught the arm and with a vicious tug twisted the weapon from Ryan. The sound of the knife landing on the concrete floor was followed by the sound of a body crashing into a shelf of supplies where the clown tossed the Captain.
Taking a breath to recover, the future soldier got to his feet and looked to the clown who picked up his knife and twirled it while whistling, as if he challenging the young man to come and take it back.
"That was a nice touch with the old 'dead man' trap" …" Ryan complimented his adversary. The obese funny man chuckled and bowed, as if being applauded and showered with roses.
Seeing an opportunity to strike, Ryan charged the clown full speed. Seeing the oncoming resistance fighter closing the distance between them, the clown flipped the knife in a ready position. However, several feet from the killer, the officer twisted and jumped, doing a handstand, and propelling his motorcycle boots into the unexpected clown's face, sending him backwards. Landing on his feet, Ryan continued forward, pressing his advantage by jumping and taking hold of a hanging ramp chain. Swinging himself forward, he kicked his boot into the clown's chest, knocking him to the ground.
But, as he let go of the chain, sailing over his opponent's head and landing with an acrobatic flip, he failed to notice that the clown had, like in their previous encounters, utilized his rounded figure. Like a ball he bounced, doing a backwards summersault to his feet right after impact. Ryan had little time to recover from his acrobatics before the clown bore down on him.
At the last second, Ryan caught the clown's knife hand as the killer pressed with all his might to drive the sharp object into his chest. A little vein in the soldier's forehead popped out of his head as he strained to hold off his own combat knife. Looking to break the officer's concentration, the clown let out two swift punches to the soldier's right ribs. The two shots brought the captain to his knees. Seeing red from the nerve shots to his ribs, Ryan head butted the killer in the face, and in a smooth motion, Ryan dropped back-first to the ground, and pulled the clown down. While using his feet, the last of the future Connor family propelled the fat man overhead. Like a golf birdie, the clown fell into a large hole in the ground where the students lowered cars for safe keeping.
Not wanting to let the psychopath have any time to recover from the fall, Ryan jumped on a hanging chain leading into the basement floor of the garage. He slid down the linked line, landing with a loud clap on the ground in a squat position, balancing his hand on the smooth concrete.
Ryan stood up and looked at the almost total darkness of the room around him. Not only was the maniacal serial killer nowhere to be found, the empty lower storage room was covered with hanging green tarps that were used to cover the cars.
The hero flicked hardened mocha eyes around alertly in the small room as the sound of childlike laughter echoed hollowly. Then a flash of sudden stinging pain ran through his back. He swung behind him, where the clown had slashed him in the back. He gritted his teeth and searched the tarps for any evidence of the robust maniac.
"UGH!"
This time he felt the blade gash his upper back. With a quick snap of his head, he caught an oncoming fist spiked with brass knuckles graze the side of his face, leaving three nasty razor cuts above his left eye brow. Then with the blade in hand, the clown slashed him across the bridge of the nose. With a sadistic laugh, the fat man choke slammed the captain to the ground with a sickening thud; Ryan felt something flat and metal under his back.
The clown, with crazed murderous eyes, began to punch the hero across the face. Reaching under him between strikes the soldier grabbed a tossed aside crowbar. Then with a knee to the solar plexus, the youngest Connor slammed the metal tool into the clown's face. The obese man fell back on his rear, spitting teeth out. Ryan got to his knees, following through with his second swing like a homerun hitter, knocking more yellowed and red stained teeth out, and sending the killer flat on his back.
With a vengeance the soldier lifted the sharp point of the bar to impale the sadistic murderer when the clown began to laugh nonstop.
"What's so damn …" Ryan gritted out before he began to feel his strength drain. "Funny." He gasped when he caught a gaze at his knife jammed into his diaphragm.
Dropping the crowbar the soldier collapsed backwards to the sound of insane, childlike laughter.
The kitchen of the Connor home was quiet, with the exception of cicadas chirping near the back door. Sarah leaned forward on the island, pencil in hand while gazing upon a pattern of three dots that she scribbled on a yellow note pad. With her bandaged hand, she pushed away her now shoulder length hair behind her ear. The strange and somewhat disturbing dreams she had been having of late had inspired her to put some pants on and her cut out neckline sweatshirt. Despite it now being the late 2000's Sarah still couldn't imagine her wardrobe without at least one of the fashion statements of her teenage days.
While the dreams seemed to take their toll on her, she was also feeling a strange, almost domestic, sense of normalcy. It came not only from John and Cameron's bitter prank war that had the house in an uproar, ending with them attending some homecoming dance, but also from the sight of Derek asleep in a recliner with the television on. Sarah contemplated how easy it could be to forget about their mission, even in light of the last activity on the Skynet front coming from Cameron's scuffle with a terminatrix at Sherman's office. She sighed and placed the pencil down next to the pad and looked at the pattern.
"What is this …?"
Just then the sound of feet shuffled into the kitchen. Sarah followed Derek as he recycled the bottle of beer, and placed his crumb filled plate in the sink. With a sigh he walked up to her, opposite the island.
"Hey …" he addressed her with piercing hazel eyes that made her melt slightly. She nodded at him, and went back to looking at the pattern on the paper. "You feeling okay?" he asked, cautiously trying to walk on egg shells since there last full encounter, which resulted with a passionate kiss.
"Fine …" she didn't look up for fear of starting up another link of events that would end up with her in his arms. He nodded again and looked to the top of the island trying to find a way to have at least a semi-normal conversation with the woman in front of him.
Sarah chanced a look at him and then bit her lip.
"Have … have you seen this pattern before?" Sarah motioned to the legal pad glancing down again before he caught her eye. Derek craned his neck at it, before walking over behind her, and looking over her shoulder at the three dots.
"No … I don't think so." He said with over concentration at the paper, trying not to notice his close proximity to the woman only inches in front of him. Sarah let out several shallow breathes and momentarily turned her head catching his gaze with the corner of her eye. Both of their breathing stopped as they inevitably locked eyes.
Just like with the mission, Sarah thought how easy it would be to be let herself slip backwards into Derek's arms and let him hold her, how simple she could lock lips with him and let her worries be put at ease in that moment of connection. But she knew it wasn't that easy. He was Kyle's brother, not Kyle. Would it be fair for him, or even her to jump into whatever it was she was feeling for the man, when she wasn't sure? But most importantly, she couldn't allow herself those kind of attachments, not when everything could be collapsing around her. She had to be free for John; she couldn't tie herself down to anything or anyone. Nothing matters except her baby and the mission.
"Derek …" Sarah wasn't sure why she was whispering as their lip came closer. "We can't." she shook her head at him. "I … I can't." she turned her head down again feeling his breath in her hair.
"I know." He grunted bracing himself on the counter, his arms on either side of the woman. Both stood in silence trying to fight the strange feelings pulling out their insides. Suddenly the front door opened with a loud bang and there was strained panting.
"Sarah! Derek!"
Both adults traded looks, this being the first time they had ever heard Cameron call out in distress. On instinct, Sarah drew a pistol from the island drawer and exited the kitchen, while Derek unconsciously placing his palms on her back as they entered the living room together. They found Riley and Cameron collapsed on the sofa. The cyborg was bleeding from her lower stomach and her cheeks seemed to be tear-stained.
"John's in trouble."
With gasped grunts, the future soldier staggered through the blurring hallway of powder blues and darkening whites. A trail of blood dripped from Ryan's face and diaphragm as he used the walls to support his weight.
It was only by divine intervention of wisdom that the hero had donned body armor that had mostly absorbed the blow of the knife. But it still penetrated the protective vest drawing a steady stream of blood that trickle down his chest. With dazed breaths, Ryan stumbled as fast as he could with a bloody knife gingerly in hand; away from the shadow of a gentleman clown appearing enormously on the wall, as it whistled the Wolf's theme from "Peter and the Wolf" loudly.
As he made his way down the corridor he made out an exotic looking beautiful young woman whose blue eyes and black hair complemented her pale complexion. She wore a white, ethereal, radiant dress and black choker. The true human marvel held out her arms to him with a brilliant warm loving smile. But the closer he got the more she seemed to fade from his darkening sight.
"Come … back …" he called out. Her happy grin turned into a sad longing before she lowered her arms, and walked away from Ryan. "Mary … Come … Back." He reached out for her, but without a useful arm to support his weight, he collapsed on the floor face down. Turning his head he watched his vision of the woman shed one last mournful tear before she dissipated. Through the dissipation a new figure walked into view and shadowed over him.
"Dad"
It surprised John how easy he remembered his way around the school. He blamed his mom and their crazy six hour stakeouts the weekend before school started. Though he had originally hated the idea, it was actually becoming a fond memory. What could have been torturous situation, turned into fun hours of him telling jokes, and his mom doing bad air guitar to Led Zeppelin all the while introducing the cyborg in the back seat to classic rock, or, as he liked to call it, the life blood of the Connor family. Now he couldn't imagine sitting in a car with the woman he loved for thirty minutes much less six hours. He used to think that was because he'd grown up, and seen that the hunt for Skynet wasn't a game that two best friends and a cyborg were playing. But now, after everything, he understood that maybe it was just because of how far he had fallen from the people who cared about him.
When the young man first initially reentered the school, he thought it might be a lot harder to find the clown and his future soldier. But he found rather quickly that his adversary was quite loud and obnoxious, being able to hear him whistling near the old auto shop class John use to take with Morris.
As he got closer, he noticed the outline of a shadow limping toward him. John noticed that this shadow wasn't obese, and he jogged toward it. The handsome man was reaching out for him and mumbling as he fell to the ground. John took a knee next to the man and noticed that he had deep gashes on his face and blood was starting to pool under him. John turned him over to see a stab wound in his lower chest.
"Hang on … I'm going to get you out of here." John reassured the soldier, removing his tux jacket. Wadding it in his hand, he pressed it to the puncture wound, trying to stop the bleeding.
"HEHEHEHE"
Hearing the jackal-like chuckle, John looked up to see the dapper dressed psychopath standing several paces from him. There was a small jolt of sadistic pride from John as he saw that with each laugh the clown was spitting out globs of blood where his teeth should have been.
Standing up determinedly John strode forward and grabbed the gladius weapon and flipped it several times, before settling with an upside down fighting position, taking a stance. Both circled one another in the hallway. The iron willed determination of John was showing in his sparking emerald eyes. If Sarah and Derek had been there they wouldn't have any doubt that he was Kyle Reese's baby boy. The man in front of him was out to kill the woman he loved and, just like his father, he wasn't about to let anyone hurt his girl.
With gritted teeth he took a swipe at the fat man, who moved out of the way. John continued with a smooth motion, slashing downward which the clown side stepped. Not fazed by the misses, John spun when the killer leapt at him, the clown's brat like aggressiveness earned him a deep cut to his chest. With a growl the now enraged clown turned, only to be struck in the face with a trained kick. With a sickening crack the clown's nose went out of place. Driven by blind rage, the child like clown tossed a surprised arm out and hit John in the chest, sending him flying into several lockers.
CRACK
CRACK
CRACK
The sound of a large caliber pistol fired shots at the killer from the side. With a look the maniac saw Ryan with a chrome .45 in hand, aimed it at his chest. The bullets fell with clicks to the floor, stopped by the red shield. However, the distraction was all John needed as he jumped up and drove the sword like combat knife into the clown's abdomen. The sound of electrical equipment snapping and crackling came from inside the clown as he stumbled back. Little charges of electricity leapt across the fat psychopath's body. When he opened his mouth; charges flashed like strings of saliva. With jolting and shuttering the clown fell to the ground, as the body shield continued to flash on and off.
With a grunt John walked over to the clown who was lying flat on his back. After extracting the knife from gruesome clown's gut, injured, but not dead, the clown did something John didn't expect. It began to cry like a small child throwing a tantrum. It pounded the ground and kicked its legs.
Murder was in John's eyes as flashes of an injured Cameron and the cut up soldier several feet away went through his head. He wanted to kill the monster and in that moment he wanted to spill more of its blood for what it had done and what it was going to do.
John flipped the knife as he loomed over the crying clown.
Inside the Connor home the tension was thick as three females waited in the living room. Riley sat dazed on the couch, with a first aid kit on her lap while Sarah kneeled with a combination of panicked and bridled rage that she tightly reined internally. She roughly bandaged an underwear clad Cameron, who didn't flinch at the rough treatment she was receiving from the mother of the future, In fact she felt that it was justified.
When she was done, Sarah stood abruptly and seared a hateful glare at the machine that had a very human look of guilt on her face.
"Riley, can you take that back upstairs … I need to talk to Cameron." She said shortly not sparing the traumatized girls feelings. With a quiet nod, she trudged up the stairs. The living room was left in silence as Sarah began to pace in front of the scantily clad beauty like a caged wild animal, while she looked for a way to start.
"Sarah …" Cameron began.
"Shut up!" the woman snapped at the limp girl. Stopping, the worried mother rounded on her. "You were sent here to keep John safe! And is he safe? No … No he isn't because he's off doing for you what you should've been doing for him! He doesn't protect you, you protect him and if you're not doing your job, then what's to stop me from incinerating every last bolt!" she ranted ending with a dark look.
"What's stopping you?" Cameron asked, not in a challenging manner.
Sarah was at a loss of words at the query, she responded by folding her arms and walking to the window, looking out at the empty driveway. She hoped with all her soul that Derek could get to John before anything happened.
An hour has passed from the start of the gunfight before the sound of police sirens finally echoed through the silent halls of the empty school. Alone, flat on his back, a clown sat bawling for his mother, a woman the clone's predecessor had killed at the age of nine. The wounded soldier and his teenage father were long gone, and he was all alone in the dark school, or so he thought. The sound of heavy boots thumped menacingly next to the child-esque maniac. A large muscular man in a metallic opera mask that reflected the red and blue flashing lights of the police sirens looked down upon him.
"I told you that Connor was my kill, not yours …" he had a silent murderous rage for the now obnoxiously, loudly bawling clown. "Not only have you failed to heed my warnings, but you also failed to kill the metal witch, and now you'll pay the price." He kneeled next to the thrashing clown.
The sobs where stifled by a sickening snap.
Sarah sat in tears as the hours flew by. She had wanted to go with Derek, but he told her to stay put and not get involved. She was not even close to being ready for a fight in her condition. She had sworn, since the first time she felt the little fetus kick, that she would die to protect what was growing in her. But now, here she was sitting on a couch with a crippled, underwear clad cyborg, and a snoozing, traumatized teenage girl. Now all she could do was wait and pray that she had trained her boy, her purpose, enough to keep him alive.
"Kyle, if you're out there please, please keep our baby safe." She squeezed her eyes shut and began begging the spirit of her soldier, if he were out there, to bring the embodiment of their lifetime of love home. In her darkest hour of need she felt a familiar hand stroke her cheek. Opening her eyes she could have sworn she saw kind blues again, but there was nothing there.
At the sound of the front door opening, and strained grunts coming from it as the door closed, Sarah rushed out of her seat and ran to the doorway. There was John, in a blood stained, white button down with the man she had befriended from the party and Kacy's diner. He was in a black trench coat, pressed to John's back with one of his arms draped over her boy's chest so that he could be pulled.
"Oh my god John, what happened?"
John gave a grim chuckle.
"To be blunt … Never going to the circus again."