Sewer Slam
The early southern California sun's tanning rays streamed through the slightly open blinds of a two story home outside of Los Angeles, bathing a beautiful naked woman's bare back with light warmth.
Sarah groaned at the caress of her smooth skin as she lay belly down on her bed with only a linen sheet covering her buttocks. She opened her eyes with a slight hazy flicker and searched the spot next to her to find no one there. She lifted her head off the pillow and blew a stray lock of raven hair that was tickling her nose. She sat up and squinted as the sunlight hit her face full force.
Putting up a shielding hand, she observed her bed and found it to be a mess of tangled sheets mixed with a pair of satin panties. It didn't take the completely nude figure long to remember the previous night of desperate love making and even if she hadn't, the content soreness in her lower stomach and the cramp in her muscular thighs would have gone a long way in jogging her memory.
"Did Derek ever come back?"
She was shocked when she realized that was what was on her mind first, not where Charlie was, or what am I going to do about last night? It was simply a question about where was that smug son of a bitch who made her feel something she shouldn't be feeling, not anymore, not without her solider being there. No one was supposed to make her feel that way again- not even Charlie. But then Charlie was for John, wasn't he? Derek … Derek was blood, was in her blood?
Ugh, why did she care so much about it? He could be dead in a ditch and she would consider him lucky, because that's mercy compared to what she was going to do to him when he walks through that door.
The aroma of breakfast meat slithered under the crack of her door and captured Sarah's sense of smell. A smile broke out over her face as she pulled the panties on. Back in Nebraska, Charlie use to make exquisite breakfasts after nights like the one they just had. She could remember the last time it happened was after their night of passion when he proposed to her. She woke up, got dressed, and came into the kitchen to find Charlie and John at the stove cooking and laughing. Sarah had smiled and come up behind John, wrapping her arms around him and put her chin on his shoulder, watching them. She remembered that moment, because she thought that she had finally given her baby what he dreamed of, a real family.
After everything last night, after John taking another life, Sarah couldn't help but think that her boy needed a morning like that again. A morning of the three of them sitting down at the table, smiling and joking with maybe a dog milling about for scraps.
CRASH!
"YOU SLEEZY BASTARD!"
The sound of a voice thundered in rage like Sarah had never heard before, she felt like a deer in the woods at a hunter's misaim. She jolted in an upright position. What was that? Sitting topless on her bed she felt a rush of adrenalin. Suddenly she heard a crash, followed by the sound of pans and skillets falling to the floor.
Sarah finally got ahold of her wits enough to know something was going on downstairs in the kitchen. Quickly, the mother slipped on a tank top and grabbed a hand gun from her nightstand; she burst out of her room, her feet carried her with loud thuds down the stairs. Coming down the corner to the first landing she spotted the front door hanging open and a petite figure standing in the doorway, paused, trying to hear what was going on in the house. Without hesitation Sarah trained the fire arm in hand at the designer jeans and purple jacketed figure.
Cameron glanced up at Sarah, puzzled at the threat, especially when she had several shopping bags of clothing clasped in her grip, not her Glock. Sarah lowered her weapon hesitantly, that was until she heard sickening thuds coming from the kitchen. Both Sarah and Cameron exchanged looks. Dropping the bags, Cameron raced behind Sarah into the kitchen.
Upon entering, the woman, who had such fantasies of this morning, saw her memories of the dream family shatter. John had Charlie pinned on the kitchen island and was unleashing a barbaric beating of such animal-like anger on the man who had his hands up in a reasoning manner. Sarah could hardly see the boy she raised in those hateful, predatory eyes; they were shining and angry. He looked so much like an animal, so inhuman, it scared her frozen for a second.
"John" Cameron called. Sarah was shaken back into reality and surprise at the cyborg's appearance. But, even the boy's best friend's voice fell on deaf ears as John began to slam the paramedics head on the counter viciously. In a moment of clarity, Sarah understood that John might just kill him.
Maybe Sarah wasn't the only one who saw this, because without a word, Cameron brushed past the shocked mother and pulled John off the older man. The girl fought, restraining him as he bucked and fought like a wild animal to get at Charlie. Sarah was still in shock, watching with a dazed sense of horror at her child being dragged away as if he needed a tranquilizer and a cage in the zoo.
As they passed, Sarah saw that John had a swollen, black eye and a cut lip that looked several hours old. He wore the same clothing as the previous night, except that there was blood staining his white T-shirt that didn't look like it came from him, his leather motorcycle jacket was torn in places, and there was a stench of alcohol to him.
"Sarah …" Charlie groaned getting to his feet and wobbling a little to which she rushed to support him. "I didn't hit him …" he reassured her.
"I know you didn't" Sarah knew that despite Charlie's tough "weekend biker" look, if it came down to a fight Charlie couldn't touch her son even if he tried. "What's going on?" she asked checking his injuries, which consisted of a nose bleeding like a faucet and purple black eye and a semi dislocated jaw.
"I don't know …" He seemed genially in shock. "He came in through the back door, asked if I had been here all night, and I said yes. Then he asked me where I slept and I told him the truth … he just came at me, I never had a chance." He explained shaking his head with a demeanor akin to just surviving a plane crash.
"They never do." Sarah remembered all the principles and counselors that she talked to every time John had gotten in to a fight in school. It was always the same story, whether it was bullies, or horny jocks misinterpreting a pretty girls cries of protests as a yes, they all said the same thing; John came out of nowhere and there was never an opponent standing.
"I think I should go." Charlie coughed shuffling toward the backdoor as to not have a second round with John.
"Charlie …" Sarah pursued a step. He paused; finding Sarah, both looked at one another knowing that their sexual encounter had to be discussed.
"I'll come back … later." He nodded and turned and exited the house. Sarah watched him go with a bite to her lip as she leaned a mostly naked hip on the island counter. Running her hand through her curls, thinking of the hard truths that had to be told when later finally came.
"Let me go, goddammit!"
"John, you must remain calm."
Sarah glared, the end tables were squealing, and picture frames were tipping over. She put on her best stern mother face, storming out of the kitchen, into the living room where Cameron fought to restrain John. Cameron's eyes almost seeming sympathetic, almost as if she might have something to do with why he was like this.
"Hey … HEY! What the hell's the matter with you?!" Sarah growled in more surprise at his frighteningly rabid attitude, than anger at his unwarranted attack on a man she thought he saw as a father.
"He's a doubled faced bastard, who's using you!" he yelled at her. She crossed her arms and gave a confused look to Cameron who seemed passive at the claim.
"What are you talking about?" Sarah tilted her head, fixing her son with a menacing look.
"I'm sure he led you …!" He strained to free himself, but to no avail. "LED YOU … on about how he won't leave you … how much he loves you, all to draw you in!" John ranted hotly. Sarah had to blink hard, because she could swear she was hearing Kyle's desperate almost hysterical voice trying to get her to see the reality of something. She suddenly wanted to touch him … to feel him, to know he's real. "But he doesn't mean it, he just telling you what you want to hear!" the teen gritted his teeth as he spoke harshly, just as Kyle would.
Sarah couldn't fathom where this was coming from, or what was going on in her child's head that brought on this line of thinking. She wasn't sure about a lot of what was going on, but Sarah Connor was sure it had to do with that look of dejection on the machine's face when she turned her head away with a flicker of emotion that Sarah was sure she was imagining.
"Why would Charlie, of all people, do that?" she shrugged, humoring her son's accusations with a glare of disbelief.
"Isn't obvious …" John's voice had so much venom in it, she felt infected just being near him. The teen motioned to her half naked appearance. "To get you out of your panties," he spat and then paused with a sneer. "And you didn't disappoint." He said with a twisting disgust that broke Sarah's soul in that one nightmarish moment.
He hit a nerve cluster in her heart, and it was such a painful blow that she swore she blacked out, and a deep shamed rage took over. When she came to John was out of Cameron's grip and slammed against a wall where Sarah was inches away. There was a red welt on the side of John's face from a slap that now joined the collection of his other mysterious injuries.
"You!" Her voice was high and emotional. "You … You don't ever …" she couldn't remember what she was going to say. What could she say to that? "Not ever." She didn't notice the tears running down her face. The young man's eyes lightened, and for a second she saw her boy again as he searched for the words to redeem what he had just said to her. Feeling emotion threatening to overcome her usually iron willed wall of surliness, she let go of John and stormed up the stairs.
John sat slumped on the wall breathing heavily and slowly he slid to the ground and covered his face in shame at what he had done, to a woman he wanted to protect from those judgments. Cameron watched him pensively, before she joined him. She watched him breath in and out, a tell-tale sign of crying. Cameron observed her hand, then John, back to her, before slowly reached out stroking John's hair comfortingly.
He gave a relaxed breath, but then tensed as if hit with a memory and flinched from her touch.
"You … don't you touch me!" he slammed the wall as he got to his feet and stormed out of the house slamming the door behind him, leaving Cameron by herself.
Sarah rushed up the stairs and turned the corner slamming the door to the random room she had blindly taken shelter in. Closing her eyes the woman placed her back on the door and slid down to the floor, hugging her knees and burying her face in them.
The look and statements made by John were unequivocally her worst nightmare. When she was younger, and hooking up and shacking up with men who could teach her things, she always kept John at arm's length, never letting him live with her and the mark. It was always motel rooms for the little boy. She told him and herself it was to put him out of harm's way, as well as to give the sultry beauty the look of an unattached drifter that was always up for anything and everything. But, the truth was that she didn't want John to see her other faces. She always wanted him to see her as his mother, his warrior protector, and his best friend. Not the party girl, the sex bunny, and not the woman who would get what she wanted on her knees. Who took money from people, and shook down shop owners for protection money for her "boyfriends" She never wanted her son to think less of her for using her body as a tool or to gain an advantage, or used her skills to terrorize defenseless people to gain money and street credit.
"He … he didn't mean it."
A voice called weakly to Sarah who stifled her private sobbing. She looked up to see that she was in fact in Cameron's unused and seldom occupied room. She found the injured soldier from last night that she had almost forgotten about.
Sarah was slightly embarrassed at her tears in front of the Tech-Com officer who was lying under the covers in Cameron's bed. She had a reputation to maintain, being the mother of the future and all. She wiped her eyes and got to her feet. Walking over, she could see that Cameron had attended to him over night. His cauterized wound was bandaged tightly around his chest and on the nightstand was a mostly empty bottle of water, next to pain killers.
"He says things he doesn't mean when he's really angry … he projects." The man explained making the same projector clicking motion that John had done in his own delirious state, Sarah counted that as odd and yet made her feel very close to him.
"I know … he's a lot like …" She started. Without much thought, she found herself sitting on the edge of the bed comfortably, familiarly.
"You…" a dazed but knowing smile graced the soldier's handsome face, but it also made the scarring look much more prominent. Sarah snorted with a small sniffle.
"Yeah … like me." She smiled. Maternal fingers drawn to his face, tracing the deep cuts lightly. It was only for a second before she noticed what she was doing, and moved her finger away, with a blush.
"That makes sense." The officer nodded his own head weakly, smiling at her scolded cat reaction. Sarah shifted her eyes playfully and leaned down a little closer.
"How's that?" she asked pushing her bangs to the side and slapped her bare thighs slightly.
"Both of you are legendary pains in the ass." he coughed a laugh at his own response. Sarah now had a grin on her face at the light hearted teasing that was making her feel better.
"Is that right …" She responded with a mock murderous voice. The man smiled at the danger in her tone.
"If you strike me down … I'll become more powerful than you can imagine." He bluffed. Sarah chuckled at the movie quote and shook her head. There was a pause between the two as she could tell that he must have used up the last of his strength making her feel better, because it looked like unconsciousness was taking him again.
Slowly the man reached up and placed a hand on her thigh.
"He loves you … he'll always love you … no matter what." He consoled as he drifted away. Sarah took the hand and squeezed it comfortingly.
"I know …" she nodded, watching him drift back into his dreams.
"You shouldn't be in here."
Sarah turned at the cold voice to see Cameron standing at the doorway with clothing bags in hand. There was a scowl on her face that Sarah would dare say was protective. The woman glared and placed the man's hand at his side gently and stood. Before she left, she leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss defiantly.
"Don't tell me what to do."
The echoing of gushing water sounded with an almost deafening roar that woke Derek with a startle.
Though he had his eyes open, he couldn't see anything due to a piece of cloth tied across his eyes. He quickly moved to remove it, but he felt restraints like a rope binding his hands behind his back. However he noticed that it was tied over his jacket sleeves, which was a surprising move. Most times kidnappers tie wrists bare so the more you struggle the more it hurts, however whoever had snatched him had taken a different route. Derek sat up and wiggled his feet, finding them free and unbound. Popping up to a crouching position the soldier listened carefully at the sound of rushing water.
"Rushing water … lots of it. Smells like street run off … concrete below my feet. I'm in a sewer tunnel." He concluded as he slowly stood to full height. Oddly enough, the roaring water came from below him as well as the continuous rush of the foul smelling street-water air.
Cautiously, Derek turned and hung a foot to the side, keeping level with his stationary one, only to find nothing there. He staggered at the dip and returned his leg to solid ground.
"I'd be careful Derek … it's a thin walkway and such a long drop."
An emotionless mechanical voice that he recognized from his last seconds of consciousness cautioned him. Derek snapped his head to the nearby source.
"What is it you want?" He asked with angry growl
"Always straight to the point … no time for anything else, right?"
"That's me …" Derek answered, steadying himself to make sure he had a foothold on the invisible, thin walkway.
"I want Sarah dead." The voice answered point blank.
The soldier gritted his teeth at the answer, but laughed mockingly.
"Sarah's not coming after me, if that's why I'm here." There was no remorse in the comment or hesitation at the prospect of the reality. He wouldn't want her to come after him, not at the expense of her and John's safety.
"I won't be the bastard that brings metal down on the Connors."
"Then what good are you?"
Like a clamp, a slim, female, leather-clad hand snatched him by the neck, lifting him off the ground and raising him over the side. Derek couldn't see, but he knew most likely he was being held over a chasm of rushing sewer below.
"You know how many times I've thought about this … just killing you … just wanting you dead?"
"Then I'm dead … because I'll never let you anywhere near her." Derek spat at his captor. Suddenly, Derek felt the hand let go and felt the sinking feeling of falling.
Not sure where he was going to land, or if these were his last seconds. All he could see was two kids playing baseball in the park, and the feeling of a raven haired beauty in a Grecian queen costume stroking his cheek lovingly as he sat on a picnic table.
The air in his lungs seemed to be crushed out of him as he felt his stomach and lower chest hit a strip of concrete lingering in the air. He coughed out painfully, while his upper and lower body formed a U over what felt like another concrete service walkway. The sound of a loud thud landing on the walk way next to him announced the arrival of his captor. He felt a hand grab his jacket and lift him upright and lay him on his back on the causeway.
"Don't be stupid Derek … she will come for you, she'll always come for you."
Then he felt a combat boot slam itself into the side of face, knocking him out.
The smell of fruity shampoo and steam lingered in the bathroom as Sarah let her face be sprayed by the moderately warm shower water which cooled as it ran down her face and over her upper body.
"What am I going to say?"
Sarah must have been in the shower for at least an hour and a half, probably washing her body and hair at least three times each. The situation ran through her head, occupying her mind and leaving the shower tasks running on automatic in her brain.
She ran all possible versions in her head. Would she tell Charlie the truth that last night was all a big statement in her head to get away from Derek? Would she put him on hold like she had been for nine years, once again telling him that now wasn't time for a commitment like what he wanted? Or will she just send him away to let him have his normal life with some other girl?
When the woman noticed that she was reaching for the soap again she snorted, and instead turned off the shower and pulled back the curtain. After drying off, she wrapped a towel around herself and walked into her messy room. She walked to her nightstand and reached for her phone and texted John again - seeing as he wasn't answering her calls out of shame. She just wanted to talk to him and find out what had sent him over the edge. Though she could take the simple explanation and say it was him acting out for having to kill again, somehow she didn't think that was the case. She hated to admit it, but she knew it had to do with Cameron, the metal.
She hated the way he responded to it. The girl, Riley, was in their lives because of the things Cameron had said to John. Every time one pushed, the other pushed back harder. It was teenage love at its worst. She shuddered at the thought, but she kept quiet, hoping like hell that years from now she and John will be curled up on the couch with her grandchildren at their feet, and laugh about the time John thought he was in love with a machine.
BLIP
Sarah's phone buzzed in her hand.
Pushing a long damp lock of hair out of her face she checked a text message sent to her in the hopes it was John.
"Missing something?"
Frowning in puzzled confusion at the anonymous number's text, she stood still in anticipation when suddenly the phone buzzed again and it slowly loaded a picture. Sarah was dumbfounded when it showed a picture of an unconscious Derek, lying on his side, with his hands bound behind him and a bandanna blind fold tied over his eyes.
"Deposit box 36 local post office, Van Nuys."
In little less than two minutes Sarah was dressed in an army brown tank top, blue jeans and a leather waistcoat. She carried a duffle of guns and supplies with her as she exited her room. With determined steps she walked toward Cameron's room and heard a curious sound coming from the inside.
Through the open door Sarah spied a blooded tinged bandage piled on the girl's night stand, and a new black t-shirt on the soldier who was still under the covers. But what caught Sarah's interest was Cameron sitting on the edge of the bed and to her surprise the sound she was hearing was the machine humming gently as she held the man's hand in her lap. She seemed to be counting his fingers, almost like a new mother would her newborn baby.
"He was stirring … the sound of my vocal tones soothed him." Cameron addressed Sarah, letting her know that she saw her.
Sarah found it strange to see Cameron have such an attachment to the soldier, as if the machine had a maternal bond to the injured man.
"Where are you going?" the girl looked up at the supplies in the woman's hand.
"Out …" Sarah responded shortly, pushing away her suspicions for another day. "I want you to stay here and wait for John. When he gets back I want you to keep him here till I get back." she ordered the cyborg.
"Is there a problem?" Cameron tilted her head. The wavy haired beauty scowled at the question.
"Stay here and wait!" she snapped and stalked off.
Cameron blinked and turned back to a dreaming Ryan who had a single tear squeeze out from his shut left eye. Looking at her hand a moment she mimicked a motion she had seen Sarah do time and time again. She gently touched his cheek for comfort; the teen was surprised when the man turned into her touch, and muttered quietly, trapped in a flashback of some sort.
"The ends don't justify the means, momma."
"This is absolutely the wrong thing to do!"
"It wouldn't be the first time."
The conversation that Sarah had with Derek before they had rushed off to save Charlie's now ex-wife from a now junked Cromartie ran through her brain.
Just like then, this was the wrong thing to do. The safe bet was to find John, stuff him in the back and get out of town and leave that scruffy jackass to his destiny. But Sarah knew that she was never the paragon of good judgment. If anyone is going to put a bullet in Derek Thomas Reese's head it was going to be her. Tossing her bag into the back of the jeep, she slammed the door and as she opened the driver side door she jumped to find Cameron in the passenger's seat staring at her.
"Dammit, Cameron!" she slapped her thighs angrily. The girl tilted her head at her fake yet at the same time surrogate mother. "I thought I told you to stay here and wait for John." She gritted her teeth at the cyborg.
"If you're going into danger, then my presence will increase your chances in combat. Plus, John will not listen to me when he comes home … I left him a note, in your hand writing." Cameron explained. There was a pause before Cameron buckled her seat belt and returned her stare toward Sarah in anticipation.
"Fine …" she huffed and got in.
As they drove off, a dark SUV sat idle before a gravelly, mechanical, echoing voice spoke from the tinted backseat. "Follow them."
"What did you say to John?" Sarah asked, as the two females stood in line at the post office. Cameron turned from her analysis of how to better organize the mail sorting so that they wouldn't have to sit in line.
"I didn't say anything." She responded innocently. Sarah gave her a glare that said the she didn't believe the claim.
"I know my boy … and I know that what happened this morning. What he accused Charlie of was nothing more than him projecting his feelings on a situation because he doesn't want me to be as hurt as he has. So that begs the question … what the hell happened between the two of you?" Sarah spat silently at the cyborg.
Cameron relented at the mother's applied logic.
"We had a disagreement on the course of action and standing of our respective positions to one another." There was a hint of something in the voice of girl next to her, which Sarah picked up on, but was so foreign that she couldn't make it out.
"Which means in English?" she turned to Cameron with a shake of her head. Cameron scowled with a face that Sarah almost anticipated a "None of your business" to follow up her question.
"You got what you wanted." Cameron replied almost angrily and walked to the counter where a skinny, shaggy man with a "Han shot first" T-shirt was waving them toward him frantically.
The two stood in front of the counter where the man that looked older than both Sarah and Cameron seemed to be entranced with both females.
"So what can I get the Gilmore girls today?" The man snickered at his own joke. Sarah sighed and pressed her lips together in an irritated smile, while her partner tilted her head in confusion.
"Box 36" Sarah cut off whatever Cameron was going to say as she opened her mouth. The man spent a minute liberally ogling the teenage girl's see through white tank top before turning to retrieve the content inside the box.
Sarah folded her arms and tapped her boot, not knowing how much time Derek had left. Feeling eyes on the back of her head she turned to look at Cameron who seemed pensive.
"What?" she scoffed defensively.
"If you are Lorelei and I'm Rory … then what does that make John?" the girl's tone was in complete fascination. Sarah growled and rolled her eyes to the ceiling. She was relieved when the nerd came back with a large roll of blue paper that looked about the size of a poster before "Rory" could press her question.
Just as the man was about to say something, Sarah snatched the document from his grip and walked away. Cameron lingered and watched the man stare at Sarah's butt. When he turned back to the angelic beauty she frowned.
"No Greedo did."
"Yeah, like you know!"
Sarah glared at the nasal sound of the nerd yelling as Cameron walked out of the post office building.
"There is a time and place for everything … girlie." She glared when the teen walked up and observed the blueprint unrolled on the hood of the jeep. "Do recognize this?" She asked confused about the white lines and random intersections that didn't look like any building she had ever seen.
"It's the downtown Los Angeles sewer system." Cameron answered immediately, as if she had been shown the back of her hand.
"You know this place?" she turned crossing her arms. The angelic metal maiden nodded and met eyes with Sarah.
"After Judgment Day, John will turn it into the western Tech-Com army's main base before the retaking of Serrano Point in 2026." She stated. Sarah looked back to the map and saw a white gel pen marking with a circle around it.
"Do you know where this is?"
The sun was hidden behind walls of grey clouds that lingered over the desert, turning the normally burnt yellow dunes to grey tundra of dull coldness. The chill caused Mother Nature's tears to be turned to snow, which was shed over her perverse natural wonder.
In a maze of large boulders that littered an area of the wasteland, the sound of the heavy steps of a teenage girl matched up with the wailing sound of a cold wind whistling off the rocks. Despite the cold weather, the girl wore a pair of ripped short-shorts and a cut up half shirt. Her long brunette hair was in a ponytail, yet despite her shredded work out clothing that exposed her underwear there was no signs of cuts or bruises that should have been littered over her sleek ballerina figure.
The girl flicked dark eyes predatorily over the area, walking stiffly through the environment, searching behind rocks.
A rustle of falling pebbles that shouldn't have been heard by a human being caught the girl's attention. She slowly and silently stalked around the rock of origin and saw a familiar tattered and ripped green hooded jacket that once belonged to a teenager. But now it was occupied by the shape of a much younger boy who looked to be peaking out in a crouched position watching for her, but unaware she was already there.
Cameron tilted her head and quietly pulled a pistol from the waistband of her shorts and pointed it at the small shadow. With two silent pops the jacket was slammed with the splats of a pair of red paint balls. She shifted in confusion when there wasn't any sound of pain or acknowledgement of being shot. Walking farther, she stopped when the jacket collapsed with a pile of rocks that it was draped over.
As she blinked in confusion a small body jumped out from under the sand behind her. The boy had moppy curly black hair and a bandanna tied across his head. He wore a torn and shredded grey T-shirt that had red paint splotches on the front of it, under the ruined shirt was a threadbare black long sleeve. His face was covered with cuts and bruises and he even had a black eye. He charged the girl with a chipped and red paint blotched walking stick.
Turning in surprise Cameron's pistol was knocked out of her hand by the ten year old Ryan who wielded the stick like a boa staff. Cameron juked her child's slash. Spinning, Ryan jolted the stick down trying to catch the girl only his senior by six years in appearance by the leg. Cameron slammed her foot down snapping the stick down an inch. Now holding it like a sword, with another spin Ryan brought the stick into the back of Cameron's knee dropping her down one leg. Cameron snatched up the pistol off the ground and tried to aim it at the boy.
Suddenly, Ryan hacked at Cameron's hand with a rage brought on after a week of being woken in the middle of the night. Then being taken to the middle of nowhere by his mother, abandoned, only to be relentlessly hunted a day later by her. She would attack him, not flinching and would strike him and fire paint balls at him when in range. He savagely beat the gun out of her hand and turned to strike her.
"Ryan … Ryan listen to me! It's okay now … it's alright now, you win … you win!" she begged, there were now tears streaming down her angelic face. All the anger and rage swelling died at her teary eyes and the boy took a deep breath and lowered his weapon.
"Momma … I'm really sorry if I hurt …" he started but the girl snatched him by the shirt and slammed him to the ground and suddenly a gun barrel was pointed to the boys head.
"You failed the test …" Cameron informed the boy emotionlessly. Ryan looked shocked as he stared into cold brown eyes, knowing that she had just thrown the fight.
"But … but you said …" He protested.
"It doesn't matter what I said. You lowered your defenses, something you never do to your enemy no matter who it may be." She informed the boy, removing the gun barrel and stood.
"But you're my mom … you're not my enemy!" He yelled at her angrily. Cameron holstered the pistol in her jogging shorts waistband with her back to her son.
"Then not only have you failed the test, but you have misunderstood the principle lesson in it." Cameron responded emotionlessly with slight irritation. The boy tossed the stick aside and got to his feet enraged.
"Which is what?!" he shouted at her.
"To do what is necessary in the protection of yourself, your family, and for humanity. You let your emotional attachment to me cloud the logic that I was your enemy and that I had attacked you. You brought me back … and it could have cost you your life." She chastised the boy poignantly. Ryan shook his head at her sadly.
"I couldn't hurt someone I love … no matter what they did." The boy replied quietly. Cameron turned to face her son, regarding him coldly.
"Then you have sunk lower than any level of disappointment I could've anticipated." She spoke with an iced tone and there was a worried sadness in her eyes at his reply. Ryan looked as if Cameron had smashed his heart into a million pieces.
Turning from his mother's gaze, the little boy walked and collected his inherited jacket and slipped it on.
With a slight sniffle he turned his deeply hurt and tears strewn eyes to face a hard look.
"You ask the impossible." He spat at her.
Shoving his hands in his pockets Ryan walked away in dejection.
Derek snarled and charged forward blindly at his captor, he could feel blood leaking from his nose. He didn't know who he was fighting, or where they were, but he had to get out from under their thumb, or die trying, or his captor was going to kill Sarah. The soldier's desperate running was halted, and he soared into the air as he felt a lazy foot trip him up. He landed face down on the walkway scraping his temple and cheek on the rough surface.
"Funny Derek …" the voice called to him in a mocking tone. Panting Derek got to his knees and turned toward the voice.
"Go to hell!" he snapped viciously, crouching on the thin causeway.
"I'm already there …" the voice replied regretfully. The blunt admission was something that Derek hadn't expected. "And it has shown me that I must do what's necessary to ensure the safety of …" the voice stopped abruptly, and the sound of groaning pipes echoed briefly before everything went silent, except for the roar of water below him.
"Ensure whose safety?" he called, but there was no answer. "Hey, answer me, goddammit! You at least owe me the truth about why you want to kill the woman I …" Derek stopped talking when the sound of heavy boots dropped onto the end of the thin bridge behind him. He stayed silent as the sound of purposeful footsteps marched toward him. He looked up when he felt a presence looming over him. With a swift tug a soft hand removed his blind fold.
With a squint Derek went from all black to semi lit darkness. Around him a dark, dank, vast concrete dungeon with piping above him, while higher sat another maintenance bridge looming over them where Derek figured he was dropped from. Below was a black abyss with little twinkles of light illuminating a powerful river of pumping water.
"Derek"
He looked up to see the angelic face of Cameron standing over him. Her face was split between predator and caution.
"Who were you talking to?" The machine asked, lifting him to his feet with one hand. He darted his eyes back and forth over the dimly lit area.
"They were here a minute ago!" he said, frantically looking around.
"Who was here a minute ago?" she asked, following his gaze around the room.
Then with the sound of weight pressure lifting off the piping above the female figure in a red helmet jumped down delivering a kick to Cameron's back, sending the cyborg stumbling forward.
The red helmeted captor landed on her feet like an experienced alley cat. Cameron turned and swiftly drew a pistol, holding it as if it was an extension of her body. The Red Mask individual caught the gun arm of the cyborg and with her free arm the villain snatched the girl by the neck and lifting her in the air. She slammed Cameron back first onto the walkway causing the sound of crackling to echo lightly at the impact.
The Red Mask pinned her foot on Cameron's splayed out gun hand hanging over the edge and pressed down. There was a groan of metallic protest and like a handicap button on a store door; Cameron's hand opened and the gun disappeared into the black abyss below.
The Terminator threw her hand out, snatching the red mask by the front of her leather motorcycle jacket and tossed her over with the help of her foot. When the female impacted on the walkway another loud crackling sounded. Rolling to her feet the red mask took a familiar martial arts stance that Derek had seen before. Cameron got to her feet and stoically stalked toward the other sleek looking female.
The cyborg reached for the red mask's neck, but was juked as if she knew it was coming. She then went for a face mashing punch, but the mystery fighter side stepped the attempt once again seeing it coming. Letting Cameron overreach, the red helmeted woman snatched the girl's wrist and brought a knee into her face and grabbing her by the back of the jeans. The villain tossed the girl farther down the walkway which now rumbled in protest.
Cameron had an irritated look as each attack she threw was anticipated and countered. It was as if she was some rooky light weight against a veteran fighter that knew all her tricks and contingencies.
Watching the fight going south for the machine, Derek turned to flee, trying to reach Sarah before she became the target. However, as he turned he was snatched by the neck by a large and powerful hand that lifted him off the ground.
The hand belonged to a large seven foot tall beastly man with large jutting muscles and arms. His face was covered with a metallic opera mask, but even in the dark Derek could see purple crazed eyes that almost glowed in the dark.
"You're standing in the way of me and my Love." The metallic, growling voice accompanied the accusatory shake.
Derek gagged at the tight grip, but none the less he gave the half man half monster a defiant glare that said he didn't give a fuck about what he was doing. He could feel the grip began to squeeze like a boa constrictor; excruciating pain began to travel through his head as he was slowly being killed.
CRACK
CRACK
Little squirts of green tinted blood sprayed out of the arm of the monster. But to Derek's surprise the bullets didn't seem to go through the man's large forearm, but merely stuck into the hardened muscle like thumb tacks.
"Let him go!" Sarah's voice echoed through the vast room with a deadly commanding tone. A sound of squeezing meat came from under the chrome mask and Derek fell wheezing to the floor.
The monster in the black tank top and fatigue pants turned to face the beautiful leather clad avenger.
"Anything for you, Beloved." He responded with a slight bow.
"That name!"
Sarah had seen it written in Cromartie's blood on the wall of the house the Terminator had held Michelle Dixon prisoner. Observing the giant, she could fathom that someone that big and muscle clad could rip off Cromartie's head. But what was turning Sarah's blood cold was the name. She had been called it before, though it was escaping her memory. She knew it was almost traumatic to hear someone, or thing, in this case call her it again.
With fear clenched teeth she fired three shots into the monster, one in the chest, the other in the stomach, and the last in the head. Like her other shots, the warrioress's bullets looked like thumb tacks sticking out of the man's skin, with the last ricocheting of the mask with a spark.
The monster gave a distorted metallic laugh and advanced on Sarah who began to back away.
"This is what I've been waiting nineteen years for this moment." He said taking slow steps toward her. "For nineteen long years I've waited to take you in my arms and now with the Detective dead there's no stopping me from making you mine again." The monster sounded gratified and excited.
The nickname Detective sounded familiar too, yet once again she couldn't place it, but that might have been because there was three months missing in her memory around the time the monster was referring to.
Crossing into her personal boundary she threw a hard punch into his thick chest and an elbow into his face. The muscles felt hard on her knuckle and the man's mask almost shattered her elbow. She sucked in air and cradled her hand as she backed away.
Derek watched as Sarah loomed closer and closer to the wall while behind him, Cameron was hanging on to the ledge while the red mask began to advance on him. He desperately looked around for some way to get Sarah out of the situation. But by the luck of fate Derek felt the damaged bridge begin to buckle under the weight of everyone.
Acting quickly, the junior officer charged the chrome faced man and rolled on his side cutting the feet out from under him, causing the man's fall backwards, and the concrete structure to be put on critical.
"Cameron, punch the bridge, now!" he yelled at her as the red mask began to sprint toward them and the beast began to rise again.
Snapping back a fist, Cameron pummeled the walkway. A tremor shook the bridge and then like it was happening in slow motion the entire structure collapsed under their feet. And everyone fell into the abyss below.
With a loud splash the sound of concrete rubble and bodies hit the smelly water.
Sarah bobbed her head to the surface and gasped at the very cold water. She kicked, fighting the automated current pushing everything down stream.
"Derek!" she called over the roar of the water. Losing some of her concentration, she dipped underwater for several beats before rising again. "Derek!" she yelled searching around her.
Finally the polished glint of his jacket clasp caught Sarah's attention. She was relieved and horrified, watching as an unresponding Derek floated on his back, being carried by the current out of sight.
"Oh, no Derek!"
Turning into the rushing water, the soaked woman swam as fast as she could after the man. Desperation was in every stroke, anger at him for being a jackass disappeared, hatred for playing with her heartstrings for a kiss, never seemed to happen. All she knew was that he was her family and that she loved him. Most importantly, she couldn't lose another Reese, not another one of her Reese's.
Panting, Sarah reached out for him; she could almost touch him, her hands strafing his matted cropped hair, a nasty welt on his head told her that he had been hit by rubble. She panicked seeing his eyes were closed, she silently prayed that it was nothing serious.
Ahead of them the river was forking into two different directions. The tunnel to the left had sunlight bleeding through, a tell-tale sign of escape. The tunnel to the right was bathed in darkness being lit with flickering lights.
From behind Sarah a large hand caught her by the back of her jeans and nearly pulled her under. She spat and gasped fighting the monster from earlier as he tugged her toward him. His arms were like a big net she was desperately trying to swim away from. His violent tugs were taking her, and Derek off course, pulling them into the dark labyrinth of the unknown waterways.
Spotting a dangling chain link used for workers who were in their same position, she snatched the chain. Now with a good hold on Derek, she held on tight as the chrome-masked man's tugging pulled them down toward the pitch black corridor. Sarah's grip was soon the only thing keeping them from being washed into the unknown.
Screaming and grunting, she feverishly kicked at the bulging man; her boots making contact with the man's face and neck. She panted fearfully as her grip started to slip off the chain. Slowly she slid down the emergency line.
Then, from below them, a slim, petite hand grabbed the hand ripping at Sarah's jacket and jeans and twisted it off her. Suddenly, Cameron appeared for a moment as she jumped up from her standing position on the sewer bottom. She wrestled the monster under as both were washed down the black corridor.
"Cameron!" Sarah's voice echoed.
"Keep moving!"
Biting her lip, Sarah positioned Derek against her shoulder and half swam, half pulled on the chain trying to get back to the light. She pushed herself harder than she had ever pushed herself before. Once she was in the middle she floated herself to the left letting the current take her, once she was safely on the other side she took a deep breath.
"Hold on, Reese!" she yelled over to the unconscious man, moving his head into the crook of her neck and holding onto him tightly. She let go of the chain and let the current float them out.
After several moments she was nearly blinded by the sunlight as they reached the end of the road that lead into a water slide like pipe. Moving through the plastic chute, she was reminded of bobsledders as she and Derek shot through the slick pipe quickly and with a small jump they landed into a sunny reservoir in the middle of the city.
Out of breath Sarah swam to the soil and dragged Derek to shore. She collapsed next to him and placed her ear next to his mouth.
"He's not breathing."
"Common, Reese!" she grunted blowing air through his mouth and pushing on him. "Common …" she chanted desperately as she fought to pump the water out over and over again.
"Derek … I can't do this on my own … I don't know how to anymore. You've spoiled me! Please, John needs you … I need you. We need you to get on your feet soldier. On your feet!" she yelled giving several hard pushes. Then like an answered prayer, Derek started to cough, she turned him over on his left side as he spat out water. She breathed a sigh of relief and turned him on his back.
"Sarah?" he called groggily.
"Yeah …" she sniffled joyfully placing a hand on his chest.
"I'm still tied up." He grunted.
Sarah laughed at the completely mundane and ant-climatic Derek Reese response to the situation. Laughing hard she buried her face his chest. Derek laughed at her laughing for several minutes as they lay on the reservoir shore collecting themselves.
"No, but seriously … I'm still tied up."
John came through the front door with new bruises and scrapes to join his collection. He gave very little attention to what he was doing as he counted the hundred dollar bills he had just won.
"John?" his mother's voice called from the living room.
He closed his eyes in shame and knew that he would have to face the woman he loved more than anything, and his hurtful comments he had been beating himself up over all took in a deep breath and then frowned at the raw odor that he nearly missed do to a swollen nose.
"Mom, what's that …" John paused when he saw Sarah wrapped only in a beach towel huddled next to Derek with a towel around his waist. Sarah had her hair wrapped in a warm towel and Derek had a hot water pad on his head. Both had three thermal blankets wrapped around them and their feet soaked in a bucket of warm water.
"Did I miss something?" He asked looking at both of his parental figures.
"Did we miss anything?" Derek glared at all of the teen's injuries. Sarah stood straight up when she spotted them.
"John Connor, what happened to you!?" she stormed toward him for several steps, then rushed back to the warmth of the blankets and Derek. "John Connor … what happened to you?" she shivered out.
"I was prize fighting …" He said distractedly, looking around the room.
"Prize fighting?" Sarah's teeth chattered angrily.
"Yeah … you know you fight for money?" John said, not concentrating on the conversation as he looked up the stairs.
"I know what prize fighting is … but why?" Sarah said outraged.
"I needed to blow off some steam." John replied walking into the kitchen.
"Hey where is Cameron?" he asked them.
Both Derek and Sarah exchanged looks before turning to John.
"Mom … where is she?"
"John Connor, put that shotgun down, because you are not going out there after her …!"
"Why don't you come over here and stop me!"
"That's low, kid"
"…"
"Damn it, John! Get back in this house!"
The inside of Cameron's room was a deep orange as the sun began to set on the day. The echo of a jeep blasting out of the Connor's driveway covered the sound of the room's window opening.
The petite shadow skillfully climbed through and set her feet down quietly and walked gracefully over the floorboards. A black leather-gloved hand touched the silky purple evening gown hanging in front of Cameron's wardrobe like someone who hadn't seen the items in a long time. Kneeling, the red helmeted woman picked up a pair of pink ballet slippers. One by one the figure removed the gloves revealing a pair of smooth perfect feminine hands. She touched the slippers gingerly, feeling the fabric of them as if they were old friends.
Slowly and almost reluctantly the sleek woman placed the slippers back and thumped lightly toward a man who slept alone in the bed. Ryan was undisturbed as the Red Mask loomed over him. He twitched his eye at the presence and shifted. Seeing the man's small discomfort the woman reached up and removed the helmet and placed it on the night stand.
The girl's face was obscured by shadows. She looked youthful and beautiful, with dark hair in a bun. She unzipped her motorcycle jacket to reveal a white tank top. With a creak the woman sat on the edge of the bed and watched the man sleep. She slowly smoothed the soldier's raven waves out of his eyes.
Making small sounds of discomfort from a dream, Ryan turned his head from side to side. The girl took his hand and placed it on her cheek to which he was immediately soothed.
"It shouldn't have to be like this …" the girl said to him as he slept "Why can't you kill her?" the girl pressed his hand to her cheek harder.
The man answered her subconsciously.
"I'm no executioner."
The fading day glimmered off the sea's surface like purple and orange water colors. The sun sank peacefully over the mountains, taking the heat with it, giving the Pacific Ocean air a cold bite.
In the dark parking lot a blue jeep hurriedly pulled into a spot near a lonely fishing pier overlooking the shimmering painted water. The door opened and a leather jacketed individual stepped out of the car and he held open the blueprint of the city sewer system.
John chanted gibberish as he followed a right fork in the cross section.
"Here!" he exclaimed, storing the map back inside the car and replacing it with a dented tactical shotgun which he had borrowed from the wounded soldier at his house.
With a rack of the shotgun, he closed the door and moved toward the edge of a cliff. Below was a beach, with no path connecting the two. John sighed; using the strap on the gun, he slung it behind his back and began climbing down the rock wall. After several moments his boots hit cold sand with a puff. He walked in a cautious, yet hurried pace down the waterfront with the shotgun in a ready position, scanning the darkening beach for the girl he was looking for.
"Cameron!" he called loudly, but all that answered was his echo. He continued forward toward the pier. "Cam!" he yelled, once again he received nothing.
He spotted a long pipe underneath the pier that gushed water into a small river flowing into the ocean. He moved toward it, entering the labyrinth of wooden support beams and muddy sand.
"John …" a voice called to him.
"Cameron!" he rushed forward through the thick muck until he found the silhouette of a girl sitting with her back to a support beam. He lowered the shotgun and kneeled next to his protector.
Cameron was soaking wet and her skin was deathly pale. Her white tank top had been washed off as well as her socks and boots, and grime stained her pink and blue polka dotted smooth bra. John placed the shotgun on the muck and touched her frozen cheek.
"God, you're cold." He grunted removing his jacket and draping it over her mostly bare shoulders.
She turned to him curiously as he sat next to her and pulled her into an embrace rubbing her warmly.
"What?" he scoffed slightly at her. Cameron tilted her head.
"I swallowed a fish." She replied in an innocent monotone. John stared at her for a moment before he laughed sympathetically at her with a softened look. Cameron smiled and leaned her head into him.
In that moment they put aside their differences, no pressure from the future, no hurt or confusion about what to do with their feelings which clashed with the duties of destiny. For several minutes they were just John and Cameron, friends, companions, and soul mates.
"You are John Connor?"
A beastly mechanical voice spoke to the couple from the shadows in front of them. John grabbed the shotgun and stood as did Cameron.
With monstrous thumps a chrome mask appeared in his line of sight. John could see the outline of a large gorilla-like, muscle man physique.
"Yeah … that's me." John hardened his voice and added a little bit of an intimidating gruff. Cameron squeezed his arm reproachfully for his admission to the stranger, but John heard his mother's description of the man who had tried to kidnap her and it was a good bet that he knew who he was already.
"How strange that a man, who challenged a god, could have such a humble and scrawny beginning … there's no killer in those eyes." the mask observed.
"I wouldn't put any money on that bet." John sneered challengingly lifting the shotgun. The man laughed at the action.
"You have courage … good; you're going to need it."
"Who are you?" Cameron added standing shoulder to shoulder with John, ready to pounce at any minute.
The large man swelled his chest and growled.
"You'll never know my name, but your Mother will learn it, I'll make her scream it!" There was determined rage in the monster's voice.
"If you're threatening my family, you better have taken a number, because there aren't any cuts in that line." John replied holding the weapon a little higher. The mask slowly backed into the dark shadows of the looming dusk.
"She'll be mine, again … forever." Then there was silence as the figure disappeared into the new night.
John was on edge as he pointed the shotgun into the shadows. Cameron blinked and turned to John, placing a hand on his arm. He let out a deep calming breath and lowered the gun.
After a moment he wrapped an arm around Cameron's waist and ushered her out from under the pier.
There was an uncertainty and worry on his mind.
"Let's get out here."