CHAPTER 5

Recent events had left John in a complete daze. Acting almost as if he did not know where he was, or what he was doing, he wandered the dimly lit corridors searching for a place to rest. After Martin had vouched for him, Derek had reluctantly determined that at least for the time being John was no longer a threat. He had been dismissed from his "holding cell" (if one could call it that), to scour the tunnels for an appropriate place to stay. Whether that might be on the floor in a hallway, or in some sort of actual room; neither Kyle nor Derek seemed to give much thought. Such "trivial" matters did not concern them.

John had hoped to speak further with Martin after being dismissed from what he could only describe as a "command staff" meeting among Derek, Martin, Kyle and several other members of this make shift resistance. The chance was lost when John learned that Martin had disappeared soon after the meeting ended. This troubled John greatly, since it appeared Martin was his only ally, albeit it a very cautious one.

John was left to wander aimlessly through the corridors searching for a place where he could rest and seek solace from the sadness that was now consuming him. Even though he was virtually overcome by despair, he couldn't help but sense the extreme feeling of hostility that seemed to hang in the air around him. Whether it was towards him in particular, or just a general feeling among the people around him, John could not tell.

Suddenly, John felt a searing pain shoot across his back. The sensation was so intense that his knees buckled and he fell to the ground. After his impact with the hard concrete floor and before he could turn to see what was behind him, he was again struck from behind and thrown forwards to the ground. Wincing in pain, John turned his head quickly to see who or what had hit him.

Behind him, John saw three younger males, none older than 18. All were filthy, with tattered clothes stained with dirt and who knows what else smeared about their pale, malnourished faces. One of the boys standing in the center of the group held what appeared to be a two foot piece of iron rebar in his hand.

"Well, well….What do we have here?" The boy with the iron rebar asked in a snide tone. John looked at them confused for a moment. While he was relatively certain that he could defend himself against anyone one of these boys, fighting off three would be substantially more difficult, especially seeing as how one was armed, even if it was with a makeshift weapon. John slowly began to pull his arms under him, preparing to raise himself to his feet.

"Looks like we've got some sort of pretty boy here." The young thug standing to the left stated as he took a slight step forwards. John pushed himself up off the floor, but before he could make it any further the third boy standing to the right of the group moved quickly towards John, kicking him in the face and knocking him to his right side. John saw stars for a brief moment after the impact and seconds later he began to taste the blood that was now running into his mouth and down the side of his cheek from a gash on his lip.

"Nobody told you to get up…" The boy who had just struck John said as he pulled back away from him, and into the safety of the rest of his gang.

"Come on lets have it." The male with the weapon, who appeared to be the leader of this rag tag pack, said in an angry voice.

"Have what?" John asked, not quite sure what to expect.

"Whatever you've got…" Came the quick response. "A pretty boy such as yourself must have something. You don't get to looking as good as you do without having something."

"I don't have anything." John stated a slight sadness in his voice upon the realization that he really did not have anything at all. The group began to move closer to John, descending on him almost as a pack of wolves would.

"We can do this the easy way or the hard way." One of the boys stated. Before John could respond to the stale witticism the boy to the right moved in to kick him again. However, more prepared this time John managed to catch the boy's foot. John, still on his side lifted his body slightly off the ground and struck the aggressor just above the kneecap with his forearm. Lurching his upper body forward and yelping in pain the boy fell backwards onto the ground before crawling away. The counter attack did not buy John any respite. Before he could bring himself to his feet he was struck again by the metallic weapon, this time in the rib cage. Groaning in pain, he fell back to the floor.

Looking behind him, John saw the third unarmed male approaching from near his feet. Pulling himself from the ground and to all fours, John quickly kicked his left leg back striking the male in the chest and almost knocking him to the ground. John was then struck again with a glancing blow across the side of his head by the metal rebar. Once again he saw a flash of stars and nearly collapsed. Before regaining his vision he was kicked hard in the stomach by someone's foot. Combined with the earlier impact the pain had become excruciating, nearly forcing him to double over in agony and again fall back to the ground on his side.

Trying to shake the blurriness from his eyes John saw the gang now approaching him again, one of the boys still limping from John's earlier strike.

"Oh, I'm gonna enjoy this." One of the males stated in an eager tone. John attempted to stand quickly, which was much more difficult now that his body ached. However, before he could rise to his feet one of the males tackled him knocking him onto his back.

Now straddling John, the boy struck John in the face slamming his head back against the hard floor. The next blow came to John's lower body and it became, readily apparent that someone was now kicking him again. John held his forearms in front of his face in an attempt to shield himself from the blows that were now raining down upon him.

Desperate, John shifted his weight in an attempt to throw off the male that was on top of him off. Unfortunately, this only worked temporarily and after regaining his balance the male once again began to hurl blows at John. Between the impacts John observed the male with the metallic weapon emerge over top of him and he knew it would soon be over. Again, John sensed a feeling of disbelief. He wondered if this was the way the "great" John Connor would die, in a simple mugging by some tunnel rats.

The male at John's feet was still kicking and punching John's lower body. He was swinging wildly away, attempting to do as much damage as possible, but in actuality he seemed unsure where he should be striking in order to achieve maximum effect. Suddenly, and unexpected the boy felt himself being jerked from behind by his collar and a split second later he was struck in the knee by the rubber sole of a boot. There was a loud pop, and a searing pain shot up the male's leg, as he collapsed to the ground and cradling his leg and howling in pain.

Startled, the boy with the iron rebar weapon standing above John turned his gaze over to the dark figure that had so quickly dispatched his "friend". He then rapidly moved towards the mysterious rescuer raising the metal weapon. He did not get far. A gunshot rang out and the male's head jerked back uncontrollably. His body instantly went limp and he crumbled to the ground in a heap.

Seizing the momentary distraction John again shifted his weight over to his right and managed to throw off the boy that was on top of him off and to the ground. John then pulled his hand back and struck the male in the face. The boy quickly pulled himself to his feet and dashed down the hallway away from John and his unknown protector.

John scanned the area quickly and saw the one attacker lying on the ground dead, while the other cradled his knee shrieking in pain.

"Some hero you turned out to be…" A voice said from the shadows. John quickly looked in the direction of the sound,

"Can't even defend himself from a couple of tunnel rats." John strained his eyes to see as the individual emerged into the light.

She was a beautiful fair skinned woman who was probably in her later 20's with reddish orange hair pulled back in a pony tail. She wore black mid calf length boots, tight dark gray BDU cargo pants, and a snug dark green tank top which slightly exposed her mid riff. Overtop of her tank top the woman wore a form fitting faded black, long sleeve BDU jacket which was unzipped. She still held her M&P .45 in her right hand.

"I remember you being a lot tougher…and taller." She stated bluntly.

Still somewhat surprised John sat on the floor attempting to decide who this person was. The female shook her head.

"You don't even remember me do you?" John stared at her for quite a bit longer, and then in a shocking revelation it came to him.

"Sa…Savannah?" He asked in a surprised tone.

Savannah Weaver nodded her head in response to John's question.

"That's right." She answered.

"What are you doing here?" John asked in near disbelief as he began to slowly pull himself up off the ground.

"I'm here with Colonel Bedell." She responded flatly.

"How did you end up with him?" John asked. Savannah gave John a flustered look and then responded.

"It's a long story…Do you really want to discuss it here?" John looked around him.

"I suppose not."

"Good, let's go then." Savannah responded as she holstered her weapon and turned to walk away from John, who was now looking down upon the male lying dead at his feet. John then briefly looked over at the other boy now cowering in the corner. He found it strange that the once arrogant and cocky male that moments before had been attempting to kill him was now curled in fear in the corner. A Strange, but oddly pleasing sensation crept over John. Dismissing these thoughts John quickly began to follow after Savannah.

"Where are we going?" He asked as he caught up to her. Still speaking in a slightly annoyed tone Savannah responded,

"Well first off, we probably need to find you a safe place to stay. As you can see some areas are more dangerous than others." John nodded his head at what was now unquestionably an extreme understatement to him.

"Where is Martin? I mean Colonel Bedell?" John asked as he followed next to Savannah who looked over at him with a chafed look.

"He's attending to some personal business." This response slightly puzzled John, but no more so than anything else that seemed to be out of place in this particular timeline. Savannah continued onward down the winding corridors with John following closely at her side.

.

.

.

The room was dark; the only illumination came from a pair of candles that were set on the ground in the far corner of the dwelling. One could barely make anything out in the room itself except the scent of sweet perfume lingering in the air. In times such as these anything as extravagant as perfume would have come at an extremely high price. Martin slowly made his way across the small darkened chamber.

"You should not have come here..." A voice said from the shadows. Martin looked around for a brief moment.

"I had to."

"He was not worth the risk." The voice responded in a somewhat more provocative manner. Martin took another step deeper into the room.

"Maybe...but that's something I need to determine for myself."

"What could possibly make you think that he could be any kind of asset?" The feminine voice asked as it grew closer. Martin slowly scanned the room with his eyes as he paused for a moment to think.

"Let's just call it a hunch." There was silence for another moment and then nothing at all could be heard. Stillness now encompassed the room as the ghostly lull continued onward. Then, a female emerged completely naked from out of the blackness in front of Martin.

"Hunches, such as these can get you killed." Alison Young said in a seductive tone. Martin smiled briefly before responding.

"They haven't yet." Alison slinked her way closer to Bedell, until she was finally standing directly in front of him.

"I don't trust him. He will bring horrible things upon this place. I can feel it." Alison whispered with a determined finality in her voice as she slowly ran her hands up the sides of Martin's body.

"You're going to have to trust me." Martin quietly, but confidently responded. Alison grinned and pulled her body up against his.

"You know I don't trust anyone." she stated in a sly voice. Martin raised his eyebrow.

"Not even me?" He asked as Alison cupped her hands around the back of his head and pulled Martin closer to her.

"Especially not you." She responded playfully and with a smile as she drew Martin in and kissed him.