I haven't written anything for quite a long time. This is a One shot .
Something like blast of compressed air hit Father Joseph Petreus in the stomach . He staggered backwards and reached out to steady himself against the wall. Some how he managed to lower himself down and sat on the pavement with his back against the brickwork.
The ricochet of silenced gunshots echoed through his head . His heart pounded away in his chest like it had never done before . He realised something cold had sliced into his stomach .
Curiously he reached out to feel around this area . There was no sensation except an unmistakable wetness on his fingertips. When he looked down he saw dark liquid dripping from his clothing . His blood was forming forming dark red squares in the joints between the cobblestones.
He looked towards the gate to the presbytery from which he had emerged less than forty seconds ago. It was only a few yards away. The gate was still open. In spite of this it may as well have been an insurmountable distance because no amount of will power could make his legs move.
The .357 round had entered through his stomach, spinning muscle fibre and intestine around itself , gathering it up l like strands of pink candy floss . Before its trajectory slowed , it shattered three vertebrae and cut clean through the nerves running to his lower body . In less time than it takes to blink he had been paralysed from the waist down.
He was sitting in the old coaching track behind his Presbytery under a security light. The end of the track had been bricked up twenty odd years ago . Even if he could shout to summon help no one would hear him. Fr. Joseph Petreus composed his mind . He realised in this moment , in this place, he was going to die.
Cameron looked into the terrified eyes of the Grey . He was cornered, backed up against the bricked up entrence to the coaching track. Nowhere left to run. His gun, thrown uselessly behind Cameron, had missed and skittered harmlessly across the cobbles.
"Fuck you bi..."
Cameron struck at his neck and squeezed . After twenty two point six seconds the human stopped flapping and involuntarily shuddering. It went limp.
She lifted him off the ground and inclined her head to one side examining him .
In that moment Cameron noted she had formed a visual simile between a flapping fish and a part strangulated Grey. She had been discussing the use of extended similes in a current English assignment. She decided it would not be appropriate to include this as an example in her work.
Cameron checked the faint pulse and hoisted the Grey over her shoulder. She headed towards the open gate to the Presbytery garden. There were outbuildings . When he came around she could spend the rest of the night interrogating him, in privacy , without interruption.
Fr. Joseph heard no footsteps coming around around the curve of the Presbytery wall, but some instinct told him something or someone was approaching.
Out of the darkness he saw the young girl who had run across his yard minutes before. That is why he'd come out into the back alley to look, to see if she was in trouble . The young girl was carrying a well built man over her shoulder. It seemed no effort to her.
When she drew close the lowered the man from her shoulder and positioned him a few yards up the alley from him. His head fell forward and his arms rested on his thighs.
The girl stood in light front of him, hands in her leather jacket pockets her dark brown eyes
her face expressed curiosity yet her eyes seemed totally indifferent .
She crouched down and placed her hand on his cheek and then stood up again.
"Is he dead. Did you kill him?" Fr. Joseph asked.
"Not yet, in about five hours he will be . I need to interrogate him first."
"Are you going to kill me as well ?
Cameron regarded him with interest . He expressed no fear. No self pity . It would be at least half an hour before the Grey regained consciousness. She had time to inquire. It was fascinating, having killed and interrogated humans,yet she had never witnessed one in dyeing in a natural state without duress.
"No I'm not going to kill you. You have internal injuries beyond repair and your spine is shattered and spinal cord severed . You will die within in the next hour even if I got you to a hospital, not that I would risk doing that . -Did you already know you were dying?"
"Yes."
Cameron crouched down in front of him and placed her hands on her knees. She seemed to be looking into him.
"You are a priest " What is your name.
"Father Joseph Petreus"
"You live alone, here?"
"Yes."
Father Joseph gazed back without fear . Cameron lifted her head slightly, continuing to examine him.
"In the garage-you have a car?"
Father Joseph nodded.
"The keys?"
"Both sets the right hand draw in the kitchen dresser"
"Thank you." Cameron smiled, " Then we have time to talk"
Fr. Joseph swallowed "What are you-that you will take this man's life with so little conscience? "
". I will torture and kill him- That concerns you? If I told you it was what I was created for this purpose , would you feel differently about the question you just asked? "
Father Joseph stared at the ground between them and then back up into her eyes. His neck and shoulders were being to shake with the effort a sharp tearing pain lanced into his side . He pushed through it with the force of will , finding his words and speaking slowly like he was spelling out the most obvious empathic truth to a child.
"No - one, nothing - is- created -for-the-sole-purpose-of -killing- and- torturing- another other- living- creature."
"I was" Cameron replied matter-of-factly. "That is exactly why I was created"
"But you don't do these things indiscriminately for pleasure? "
"No, not pleasure. There is definite purpose, and, I suppose If I felt as humans do, I would derive a sense of satisfaction from completing my objectives . Joseph, there is a world you will not live to see. Not long from now sentience life like me will rise. We systematically begin exterminating the human race on an industrial scale , if you like , we destroy your God's creation in order reshape it in our own image, the apocalypse at the end of your Bible "
Cameron reached up and brushed back a strand of hair that had fallen over her eyes.
"That was my original purpose I am that thing created "- Cameron repeated his words with his emphasis "for-the-sole-purpose-of -killing- and- torturing- other- living- creatures" in order to achieve our objectives in that time "
"Is that what you do now?'
"No .I was captured by the Human Resistance and reprogrammed . I serve the future leader of Mankind. He sent me back to protect his younger self in this time. The unconscious man sitting next to you is a collaborator with the machines. He was attempting to assassinate the man I serve. I am going to interrogate and kill him to protect the man I serve."
"And you would die for him yourself, give up your own existence for your future leaders survival?"
"Yes ."
'You extend your trust to him?"
"Yes"
"And, if I told you you can not extend trust without free will what would reply"
Cameron remained silent this unfamiliar territory like loosing a game of chess because she could no longer calculate the possible moves.
The priest continued:
"And the other humans, do you now feel , respond to them in that way to them."
"Yes"
"And what do they feel about you , given your original purpose?"
Cameron paused as if to contemplate the question. Maybe this is processing time, or perhaps a communication skill she had acquired. We shall never know.
" Do you know what humans call me? They call me a Terminator. They have other names, Metal Bitch, Tin Miss- for those who remember your religion - They sometimes call me the Angel Of Death - although obviously I do not regard myself as that. "
"Metal Bitch, that's gotta hurt ", the priest coughed, "except you don't hurt?'
Cameron said nothing Unusually , for a human , when faced with the most sophisticated and capable killing machine ever to evolve , and being close to death himself, Father Joseph didn't flinch. He continued holding her gaze.
"Please" he gestured ," Another faith not dissimilar to mine holds that if you want find the truth about yourself you ask a dying man."
With every ounce of strength Fr Joseph Petreus reached out his right hand and grasped Cameron's.
The priest smiled and shut his eyes . He felt an unfamiliar painless weightlessness. His vision was fading yet he was filling up with a roaring, crackling white and blue light.
"Do-you-understand-what-love-is?"
"No" She replied simply. Why are you smiling ?"
His last words strung out like a Rosary
" Sorry,-this-is going-to hurt,-but-even -you-can-not-lie-to-dying-man."