When Palmer finally snapped out of his slumber an hour later, he was immediately uncomfortable. He expected that, after spending an hour with a beautiful woman for the first time in years, he would have been rejuvenated. Instead, he couldn't help replaying their encounter with the Mototerminator earlier that day, so he was never really asleep.
Tabitha was still unconscious, so he slipped out of bed and went outside to answer nature's call. The dog followed, evidently intent on the same task. It was dusk, and he could smell ozone—and the coming rain—in the air. He stepped around the back of the house to relieve himself and had nearly finished when he glanced up with the feeling that something was watching him.
Palmer could only catch a shadow; the faintest hint of movement. A deer? If it was, he needed to get his bow; they would need the extra nutrition after losing much of their bounty that day, and with another mouth to feed. But he couldn't figure out why Lucy wasn't reacting. Normally, even just chipmunks or squirrels would send her into a frenzy, literally barking up a tree at the rodents in the branches above her.
He closed his trousers, and called the mutt over to him. "Lucy! … What's that?" The magic words immediately grabbed her attention, and she tore off into the brush. It's not the best hunting technique, but Palmer didn't consider this a hunt. He was worried it was a person or, worse, machine stalking their camp.
If it was living, the dog would almost certainly find the scent. Palmer followed as best he could, slowly tracking her path into the treed exterior of his cabin. He walked a few minutes, but when neither hide nor hair of dog or intruder could be found, he stopped. If it was a person, there'd be fierce barking by now. Nobody was as fast as Lucy. If it was a machine, he'd hear motors and exhaust—probably the last thing he would hear, too.
The dead silence was frustrating, but better than gunfire headed his way. So he called his dog, and returned home to sit on the porch. She didn't immediately follow his command; she so rarely did when he let her loose like that. Tabitha awoke and joined him on the steps. Palmer had always prepared himself to lose the dog, convincing himself she was just an animal; a tool to ensure his survival, but the butterflies in his stomach belied that thought.
"What was it?" Tabitha asked him through a voice still half-asleep.
"I'm not sure," he said, staring straight ahead as the wind began to move the trees. "Probably nothing, but she seems to have found something to chase."
The first few drops of rain splattered on Tabitha's bare knees, so they started to stand when rustling and bounding stopped them. They turned to face the noise, wind suddenly gusting into their faces, blowing Tabitha's hair straight back behind her. She instinctively grabbed Palmer's hand as they stood transfixed by the looming storm clouds that suddenly surrounded them.
Rrruufff. Lucy appeared almost instantaneously, catching them by surprise. The dog ran up to Tabitha and began nosing her hand as if they'd been separated for years. "Godddammit, dog," was Palmer's only reaction. They returned into the cabin as the rain began to pelt the ground.
The downpour didn't stop for hours. Cans of cold "peaches and cream" corn, Klik luncheon meat, and nearly stale crackers made the dreary evening seem nearly unlivable. Two candles burned, one on the table, the other on the counter. It was times such as these they both felt the sting of loneliness all the more. Tabitha thought of her sisters, twins two years younger. Palmer had two younger brothers. Neither of them expected to ever see their families again, let alone live in peace.
Palmer watched Tabitha stand to clear their plates, expecting the clang of dishes in the basin to interrupt the patter of rain on the rooftop. "HAAEEEE!" Instead he was jolted by her scream.
"What the hell?" he said, his heart pounding as he stood to face her.
"Outside," she said, "near the treeline."
There, illuminated by a sudden flash of lightning, were three wolves.
"Whoa!" he said.
Palmer loved wild animals, but he'd never seen anything so impressive. The long-legged canines cut intimidating figures even in the inky black rain. They crisscrossed like a synchronized aerobatics team, circling the cabin, their eyes never leaving the building. Palmer and Tabitha picked opposite directions and followed them from window to window, nearly bumping into each other and tripping over furniture numerous times as they strained to keep tabs on the beasts in the darkness.
"What should we do?" Tabitha asked. "I've never seen wolves act like that. They must be starving."
"Something doesn't add up," Palmer said. "Why are they walking in nearly perfect circles? They don't waiver, and their heads don't seem to move up or down, either. I don't get it."
Lucy stretched up to a window beside them. "Rrrr…"
"RO-RO-RO-RO-RO-RO-RO!"
Nothing. The rain was slowing, and the dog could always hold her own, but the bellowing didn't stir the animal intruders outside.
"I think we should just wait them out," Tabitha said. "They can't get inside."
"I'm not so sure," he said, moving to the bedroom to get his bow and an arrow.
Wolves so rarely engaged humans, Palmer thought, and there's no way they'd look that big if they were starving. Their coats were nearly identical and nearly untouched in the rain. He returned to the living room, raised the window, and waited for a wolf to pass.
"You're going to shoot it?" Tabitha said. She couldn't understand why he'd waste his time.
He didn't respond. He was waiting for one of them to stop when he realized a pattern had emerged. Two of the three circled to his left, a lone wolf passing between them to the right. Then the lone wolf would skip to the outside, switching places. It was just like the three-man weave he remembered from high school basketball practice, or the three jumping fleas they'd perform in gym class.
"Since when do wild animals …" he said as he steadied his aim.
THHHHOOK! His first arrow landed squarely in a wolf's flank, making an oddly metallic sound, generating only the slightest flinch—and no blood. The wolf stuttered slightly, but continued its surveillance, the arrow embedded near the top of a back leg.
"… sound like machines?"
Tabitha couldn't believe her eyes or her ears. But all the proof she needed came a few seconds later, when another flash of lightning lit up the sky. What appeared to be the lead wolf was standing straight ahead of them, and when the light hit the animal's eyes, an eerie red glow reflected back at them.
"What the hell?" she asked nobody in particular and not expecting an answer.
The rain returned, harder this time. They didn't speak for a minute. Watching their unwanted visitors, they realized that, at best, they'd have to somehow disable these things. At worst, they knew more machines were coming.
"Keep an eye on them, and yell if they move," Palmer said as he backed into the bedroom for his guns.
He loaded a pump-action shotgun, and grabbed her hunting rifle. He stuffed three flares into the pockets of his cargo pants and loaded a fourth into the pistol. Tabitha turned to face him as Palmer crossed the living area back toward her. She didn't have time to react when Lucy suddenly went ballistic, and the wolves simultaneously crashed through three different windows.
The flying glass forced Tabitha back to the floor. Palmer was stunned and confused. He dropped the two long guns, having just an instant to regain his bearings. Lucy froze at the sight of the awesome creatures. The wolves divided the room, and separated Palmer and the dog from Tabitha. He reacted, raised the flare gun and fired at the middle beast.
FFFSSSTTT! It impacted with great force and ignited the wolf's fur, sending a shower of sparks everywhere.
"GET OUTSIDE!" Palmer yelled as he bent to retrieve the shotgun. Tabitha's closes exit was the broken window. She grabbed the ledge and catapulted herself to the ground below, shards of broken glass embedded in her palms.
He wasn't as lucky. The wolf to his left charged, knocking Palmer sideways. Lucy, dwarfed by comparison, skittered away. The two other wolves closed him down, one with fur beginning to burn away to reveal a shiny steel skeleton.
They were growling and grinning convincingly, but as Palmer could now see, they looked more animatronic than animal. Then there was the fact the wolf he hit with the flare seemed absolutely unfazed by the growing fire on its back. Funny, he thought, what strange ideas go through your head when you're about to die.
Palmer, prone in the middle of the living room, seemed destined to his fate, with the shotgun just out of reach, three wolves maneuvering around the furniture to trap him, and the cabin filling with smoke. But Lucy wasn't about to let her master give up just yet. She latched onto the nearest wolf's shoulder, twisting and shaking her head with as much strength as she could muster. The great beast turned and shrugged her off, sending the once powerful husky sliding across the floor. "YAAEEEP!"
But it was just the break Palmer needed. He rolled and grabbed his shotgun, raised it up and blasted the alpha straight in the face. At close range, it stunned the mechanical hunter. "RAARR!" He gathered himself to one knee behind the couch, turned and fired two more blasts. KE-POW. KE-POW. One blast landed in the second wolf's front leg, the other into the burning wolf's neck.
Tabitha reappeared at the door. Lucy regained her legs, and stormed outside. "COME ON!" Palmer ran to the doorway. He turned again only to see the wolves regrouping. KE-POW. KE-POW. KE-POW. He kept them at bay long enough to realize what he needed to do to survive. He stepped backwards outside, slammed the door shut, and reached into a pocket. The wolves snarled and paced inside. "Get to the truck, now."
The three of them sprinted across the muck. Tabitha reached the truck first, opened the passenger door, jumping in after Lucy. Palmer pulled off the camouflage tarp, then leaned down and grabbed a jerry can of diesel nearby. He got in the truck, started the engine and slammed the door in time to see one wolf smash its way back out a window. It landed with such grace, he couldn't help think the animal was real, not an assassin sent to destroy him. As it bounded toward them, he slammed down the accelerator and directed the pickup straight at the wolf. The wheels spun in the mud, fishtailing sideways and catching the wolf as it attempted to dodge the vehicle. "CRRAAKKK!" The truck's side panel crumpled as the wolf went spinning backwards. Palmer leaped from the cab, grabbed the small gas can, and hurled it through an open window at the burning wolf circling inside, disoriented from the smoke and gunshot damage. "WHHHOOOSSSHH!"
The wood furniture and polyester curtains ignited quickly as the two mechanical terminators foundered inside. Soon the orange-yellow glow grew to encompass the entire inside of the cabin. "SEAN!" Tabitha yelled at him.
The first wolf was back on its feet. He jumped back in the cab, grabbed the shotgun from the seat, and fired another blast. He couldn't tell if he connected. Instead he floored the gas pedal and roared away from the growing scene of destruction toward the highway.
All their supplies, their clothing, and their food vanished in the flames. Worse still, they were convinced hunters would be dispatched to the area, if a crazed stainless steel wolf pack wasn't still on their tails. They needed another safe haven, and Palmer had no idea where he could find one now.
So he just started driving, hoping the highways north would be clearer than those headed south. With a few essentials in the camping shell, they'd probably survive OK, but for how long before they encountered the next mechanized killing machine? What next, robots that look like human beings? It was a thought too absurd to think about, but then again, he'd just survived a close encounter with steel teeth and robotic jaws.
Before the roof collapsed at the cabin, the two damaged wolves reemerged from the wreckage. Most of their fur was peeling off, but the strong undercarriage was more than capable of travelling to the rendezvous point for pickup by the HK-Aerial. The three terminators padded at a slow, determined gait. They trotted back into the belly of the flying machine, and began transmitting data of the encounter and last known direction of the humans before being shut down for recycling.
Skynet studied the attack and declared it a success. Emotion and reason failed the humans and allowed the wolves within mere inches of their prey. The computer diagnosed the digital video and audio recordings of Palmer's reaction, analyzing facial expressions at the point when he became aware the animals were machines. It rewrote programming and began designing eyes that didn't react to bright light, and adding a variable color pattern to the animal fur.
Within minutes, the factories that designed these close-combat Terminators adapted the new intelligence. Skynet determined emotion could be manipulated, even by machines.