Disclaimer: Magnificent Seven (TV, et al.), Hellboy (2004 & 2008), Return of the Killer Tomatoes (1988) and Terminator (1984), do not belong to me. This is fan fiction, not for profit. Any references to people, places, businesses, etc. are entirely fictitious. Modern AU
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Chapter 7: All The Usual Troubles
…sentient bioluminescence
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"Really?"
Chris arched one eyebrow up. He didn't even try to keep the disbelief from his voice. An emergency battery light beamed down on the Sophia's desk. As Chris no longer had a laptop, a desk, or an office, the HR representative had graciously offered Chris the use of her office and equipment. He'd been taking statements for the last two hours. Josiah shifted his big frame uncomfortably on the tiny seat opposite Chris.
"Yes, I think Azzael is behind the attack today," insisted the human looking cambion.
Josiah ran a finger around his collar. He paused a moment and patted his shoulder. Or thought Chris, remembering the invisible kiss he'd witnessed earlier, Josiah might be patting a ghostly hand upon his shoulder.
"He might even be using the guise of Alastor Heath…"
"Phht, not likely," objected Chris.
The division commander flipped over the pages of previous statements until he reached a manilla folder. Chris was often teased about his old-fashioned method of record keeping. Hardly anyone used paper these days. But he'd placed his notes from this morning's debriefing meeting in his mail slot when he left for lunch earlier. The manilla folder had survived while his office had not. Chris pulled up JD's debriefing statement. He held the paper up and waved it at Josiah.
"JD was in the same room with Heath just yesterday…," reminded Chris.
Had it really only been yesterday that he'd asked Buck to send JD out to Hellboy's place? To let HB and Liz know that BPRD located the van? Chris shuddered at the reminder of JD's near possession, the counterattack the young warlock had managed. Chris waved JD's statement at Josiah again.
"Wouldn't you think that a warlock might tell the difference between a human evildoer and a demon?" demanded Chris. "JD said Heath was more interested in locating his bank codes than anything else."
Chris slid JD's statement back into the folder, then flipped papers to the more recent statements.
"Hellboy says he's sure BPRD is behind Elle's disappearance," muttered Chris.
He reached Ezra's statement and paused a moment, rereading.
"Ezra is sure Heath arranged it. He says Alastor Heath is trying to acquire both BPRD and anything related to bioluminescence and satellite communications, but his money is tied up in offshore accounts until the trial."
Chris's statement didn't seem to faze the big cambion. He tried again.
"Ezra doesn't even mention anything having to do with demons or paranormal activity."
Josiah rubbed his ear. He murmured something that Chris couldn't hear. The big guy turned back to face Chris.
"Maude wanted me to tell you that Ezra has sometimes been taken in by unscrupulous…"
"You think?" interrupted Chris. "That might be why he's in the witness protection program!"
"Hmmph!"
Josiah rose to stand. Chris stood as well. He needed to get to the ready room for a performance like no other.
"Azzael tricked Elle into coming here…"
"Tricked her?" interrupted Chris. "How?"
"He told her to stay away," huffed Josiah. "And now someone has got her, someone who doesn't mind running an oversized tanklike machine over a building with people in it."
The Director of Human Services moved towards the door. Josiah turned back and looked over his shoulder at Chris.
"Azzael hates humans," stated Josiah. "I just don't think an angry sentient bioluminescence and communication satellites are a good combination. You may wind up facing a very hostile artificial intelligence."
Chris swallowed. He'd heard that phrase before. The only comfort he had was that JD was sure Heath was human. Evil yes, but human. And at least Heath's companies weren't called Skynet or Cyberdyne. Although names could change. After all, he called himself Chris Larabee now.
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"Okay folks, it's not as bad as it looks," encouraged KC. "Right?"
Chris paused at the doorway and looked around the ready room. It was hard to see everyone's face in the dim emergency lighting. The fire department would send someone back in the morning to see what utilities could safely be restored. Johnson's lumber yard had sent over a truck earlier with a stack of plywood and four burly men with hammers. They made short work of covering shattered windows and blocking off the administrative corridor just past the door to Mary's office. They'd even hung a blue tarp over the jagged hole in her ceiling. Everything past that line was pretty much a total loss. Chris stepped into the ready room.
"KC's right," declared Chris.
All eyes turned to look at him. Nate was the only one missing. The EMT and his team had left to check on others in need.
"The governor and Senator Finletter will be here tomorrow to assess what kind of disaster relief Four Corners needs," continued Chris.
The division commander remembered what the police officer from California had told him when he'd asked about Sarah's stalker. Half a station was better than none. And the path that machine crunched through the town hadn't taken out more than a few cars, the Four Corners café's outdoor seating patio, and the neon sign above the old movie theater.
"We can rebuild," reminded Chris.
Aside from the prisoner, they hadn't lost anyone today. Chris looked to Marshall Vaughn. Chris agreed with the Marshall's assessment of the situation. Elle hadn't gone willingly. In order to protect their witness, and hopefully retrieve their prisoner, the two of them concocted a plan to show a little dissension about the cause of the destruction. Maybe they'd get lucky and it would throw off their adversary, or adversaries.
"Despite the prisoner escaping…"
Right on cue, Vaughn frowned. His frown deepened into a full out scowl as he stood up. Marshall Vaughn shot what seemed an angry glare at Chris.
"A federal agent, Elle Larabee, and her charge are missing, presumed kidnapped," huffed the stern man.
His glare widened as he looked around the room.
"We do not refer to witnesses as prisoners," added Vaughn. "The Federal Bureau of Witness Protection is treating this incident as a kidnapping, our agent and…"
The nosy newsman, Fielding, perked up.
"May I quote you on that?"
Vaughn's glare turned to take in Fielding.
"Certainly, and you might mention we're offering a reward for information leading to the arrest of the kidnappers and the safe return of our agent and her charge…"
"You said Agent L. Larabee, and what's the charge's name?"
Fielding beamed hopefully. Chris almost pitied the inept newsman.
"We don't identify federal witnesses," scolded Vaughn.
The Marshall looked around the crowded room. His eyes lingered on the two city council members for a moment. Chris beckoned towards Vincent Brightfeather. The narcotics detective on loan from Tucson had a room with a kitchenette at the Blue Bird Inn for the last several months. Now so did Marshall Vaughn.
"Would you take Marshall Vaughn, get him settled in at the hotel?" asked Chris.
Vincent looked surprised.
"He's staying at the Blue Bird?"
"Vaughn had originally planned on going back to Tucson," replied Chris. "But now with his car flattened, and his agent…"
Chris deliberately let his words trail off. Let Vincent fill in the blanks as he saw fit. The man knew Ezra, and knew Ezra was in the witness protection program. If Vincent thought that there was another witness missing along with Elle, so much the better.
"I don't know how long Vaughn plans on staying."
Chris felt bad about leaving Vincent in the dark, but the less people that knew about this subterfuge the better. The man nodded and went over to Vaughn. Chris couldn't hear what was said, but he definitely heard Marshall Vaughn's reply. Even better, Fielding and the city council members heard as well.
"We can leave after I make a statement for the press," declared Marshall Vaughn.
Vaughn straightened the collar on his shirt, then flashed a wily grin at Fielding. The newsman never had a chance against the crafty federal agent.
"Did you say you wanted the picture out in front of the courthouse?"
Chris knew Fielding hadn't said anything of the kind. The newsman probably wanted to stay inside the station, drinking Arbuckle's coffee, and hearing what else folks might say. Fielding had often made a front-page story out of less. But a federal agent and a photo op had Fielding scurrying outside. The two council members followed Vaughn and Vincent as well. They weren't going to miss a photo op with an important federal representative either. As they left, Chris resumed speaking.
"We were lucky today."
Chris raised his coffee cup and let his eyes connect with the men and women of Four Corners Police Department and their friends. His eyes first rested on Buck, Lu, and little John Robert now sound asleep in Buck's lap. Buck's broad smile beamed back at him. His best friend and the others remaining in this room knew most of the details of the scheme Chris and Vaughn had cooked up.
"I want to thank each and every one of you," continued Chris.
His eyes flitted past Buck and his family to the newest member of the station. Ezra Standish, federal witness, now filled the vacancy left when Lloyd had retired. The auburn-haired man sat on a long bench with the other new arrivals. Hellboy pulled his fedora down low at Chris's eye contact, while Abe's big eyes seemed to grow even larger at Chris's regard. Mary sat beside the amphibious man. There was a space between Mary and Josiah. Chris could only surmise that a ghost named Maude occupied that seemingly empty spot. He turned to the four crowded around JD's desk. Chris flashed a grin.
"I want to especially thank Berniece for bringing coffee."
The resounding cheers and applause had the older woman blushing like a schoolgirl.
"And I want to thank…"
You ain't mentioning the video, right?
Chris's hazel eyes met KC's tense gaze. No, he wasn't going to tell anyone what they had on the recorder. Chris doubted anyone who wasn't here today would even believe it was real. Beside her JD's eyes had widened. Nobody needed to know anything about JD's abilities either. A subtle shake of his head answered their worries. Even if they were all among friends, secrets were best not mentioned if you wanted them to stay secrets.
"Sophia for allowing me the use of her office and promising a complete facilities report, even though we've only got half a facility…"
Sophia ducked her head at the applause and laughter that greeted his words. Chris continued.
"…and our two youngest police officers for not getting themselves killed. They really proved themselves today."
"Wasn't nothing but the usual troubles."
KC stood up and placed one hand on the firearm holstered at her hip. She tilted her head to one side and grinned, almost daring the others to name their troubles.
"Guns," started KC.
"Explosions," chimed in JD.
"Miscommunication," declared Mary.
"Miscreants," added Ezra.
"A woman was kidnapped," reminded Buck's somber voice.
While Chris had a hard time thinking of the succubus as a woman, not a monster, he nodded.
"And folks out to kill us."
"All the usual troubles and a few more," agreed Chris. He smiled. "Now I want everyone to go home, try and get a good night's sleep. We will pick up the pieces in the morning and start again."
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After everyone else had left, Chris went back to Sophia's office. He opened her laptop and logged in using his credentials. A glance at the battery showed he had maybe two hours left on the machine before it died. Thanks to satellite technology, he still had internet access.
"Where do I begin?" muttered Chris.
He tried to concentrate on writing a report of the day's incredible events. The station log was required to be online, shared with county offices. It was hard to leave clues for a human to read in the future, something that a smart machine wouldn't pick up on. A disposable cell phone vibrated in his pocket. The phone that Sarah had given him. The phone he'd carried with him every day since she and John left. Only one person knew that number. He thumbed the phone open.
"Hello."
"Is that any way to answer the phone soldier?" challenged a familiar voice.
Chris's lips curled up at the sound of the unidentified female voice. This strong-willed warrior woman had lost everything more than once. Sarah wasn't going to let anything, not even love, threaten them again. Chris reached for Sophia's computer, the latest technological marvel in the Four Corners police department. He brought up the voice to text recognition program. Supposedly it could even translate Elvish into English. The green cursor blinked in anticipation. Chris's voice picked up a teasing tone. Anyone listening in might think he was talking to a casual girlfriend. Would never realize the strength of their bond. He spoke their current code question.
"Who's the most magnificent Chris?"
He watched the computer program punch out the letters and spacing for his question. The smart program fumbled for a moment on the name… starting to spell K R I… and then blinking the letters out and changing to CHRIS.
"Chris Adams," answered the woman on the phone.
The smart program blinked out CHRIS then paused a moment before adding ADDAMS. Chris smiled. The electronic intelligence hadn't got through their first level yet. Chris answered with the word that indicated it was safe to go on to the next coded response.
"Nope."
"Yul Brynner?"
The smart program blinked out YOU'LL BE A WINNER.
"Not even close," replied Chris.
Chris's response let Sarah know the computer program had failed translating both of her responses. It was her turn to proceed with her coded question.
"I'll bet you don't remember," challenged her teasing voice. "What's my favorite candy?"
"Reese's," answered Chris.
And maybe it was because Christmas was so close, but the smart program blinked out WREATHS. Chris Larabee dropped his hard-earned false identity for just a moment. Kyle Reese gave a small sigh of relief.
"I miss you," admitted Kyle before he drew back on his armor, the persona Chris Larabee.
Chris thought about time. Time was funny. Slippery. An artificial construct that humans used to regulate their world… in some ways it was like Skynet. The first time Kyle Reese went back to find Sarah he left from 2029. He'd arrived in 1984 Los Angeles. Kyle had been killed just days later. Somehow Sarah had managed to keep their son John safe until adulthood. In that timeline, both Sarah and John reached 2029. That older Sarah knew what John planned, insisted on meeting Kyle, coerced John to send a med team through to save Kyle before he died. Trying to save him in her past didn't work, but just having the idea changed something. Time slipped. Or maybe time splintered into another reality.
"I miss you too," whispered Sarah's soft voice.
The second time Kyle Reese went back to find Sarah from 2029 he arrived in 1994 Los Angeles. Somehow, humanity had gained a precious ten years. Although the timeline had shifted, Sarah was still the same young woman he'd seen in the picture of Sarah Connors. They had a destiny. Kyle remembered growing up under the threat of Skynet. And he remembered meeting the imposing white-haired woman she had become by 2029. Kyle remembered everything that 1984 Sarah had told him about their first meeting. The 1994 Sarah didn't know any of that. He'd told her what he could. I came back for you Sarah. We loved each other. You said one night was enough for a lifetime. She didn't believe a word he said until a terminator appeared. Their story repeated. Again, he died. Chris frowned and rubbed his chest. Dying hurt. Again, Sarah managed to keep their son John alive and safe until adulthood. But this time, when they both reached 2039, Sarah insisted on more than just a med team. Chris didn't know what she'd done and that Sarah hadn't told him. Did this Sarah even know?
"You'll never guess what happened today," said Chris.
The third time Kyle Reese went back to find Sarah, he left from 2039. Kyle woke up in an army hospital in 2001 Los Angeles cocooned in bandages. Time had slipped again. Humanity had gained another seven years without Skynet. The name Chris Larabee appeared on his dog tags and medical charts. A pretty woman smiled at him. Sarah Connors was a physical therapist. "Alright soldier," she whispered. "You're not dead yet. Up and at 'em." Kyle was almost the perfect double of this Chris Larabee fella. A man that had been thought dead, IEDs being what they were. Until Kyle had been found, stark naked and sunburned in the desert, then Chris Larabee was the luckiest fella in the platoon. The only survivor of a blast that had thrown him beyond the original search zone. As an undercover role, being Chris Larabee wasn't bad. It wasn't long before Sarah and Kyle were undercovers as well. Kyle's memories seemed unchanged and this time Sarah seemed to know him, maybe even expected him to come into her life. She believed him even when no terminator showed up in 2001 Los Angeles. When Chris Larabee was discharged, they both went to Arizona. Sarah insisted on living off the grid with John. She thought it was necessary to protect their son. Kyle still had a job to do: destroy Skynet before it could destroy humanity.
"Try me soldier," urged Sarah.
Chris groaned. Her warm voice was incredibly suggestive. He wanted nothing more than to be in her arms. He'd felt like a bit of a fraud coming back to Four Corners, but the real Chris Larabee's parents had long been gone. His friends welcomed him back. He added memory loss to his description of his injuries, but it still felt like he'd known Buck forever. Kyle settled into Chris Larabee's life as a lawman. A division commander had a shocking amount of information on security systems. The occasional trips to meet up with Sarah and his infant son became more infrequent as the boy grew older, remembered him. That hurt. Still did. In 2005 he and Sarah set up this system of irregular phone contact and even less regular meetings. As computers grew more powerful, and communication links seemed to spring up everywhere, Sarah and Kyle remained alert.
"Had a really nasty paranormal creature in jail today," answered Chris.
Hellboy's little reveal of the paranormal world in 2008 wasn't something Kyle remembered from any previous timeline. Perhaps paranormal creatures were only specific to this timeline. Or maybe, they existed all along and folks didn't know about them. Chris glanced at the computer. The translator program was getting a frighteningly large amount of what he said correct. At least it couldn't read his mind. Chris paused thoughtfully. At least he hoped it couldn't read his mind.
"A succubus."
"I don't know much about paranormal creatures," replied Sarah.
"Something came and got her," continued Chris. "Whatever it was rode in a really huge vehicle, something like a cross between a tank and a giant excavator…"
The description matched his long-ago description of transport machine for the Hunter-Killers. Sarah's barely audible gasp told Chris she recognized his words, and his warning.
"Look, I've got to get back to work…"
That was his signal that the computer was being entirely too attentive to their words. The voice to text translations were an indicator of how much information the cell phones might pick up. He reached out and turned off Sophia's laptop.
"Would love to see you," continued Chris. "I found that that old t-shirt you were missing…"
T-shirt, their personal code for I've got more information but can't talk about it on the phone.
"I know this really cute brewery in Bisbee," suggested Sarah.
Chris's lips curled up in a rueful smile. He knew the place. It had good beer, good chili even if it was vegan, and something they called salut that Sarah would probably enjoy. Unfortunately, if she had suggested the place, that meant they would be meeting somewhere else. They had long ago set up a plan where a suggested meeting would trigger a change in the date, time, and location to the actual meeting.
"The Old Bisbee Brewing Company?" he asked.
"Yeah," replied Sarah. "I've got to work late, but I get off before closing. Meet me there Tuesday, say… around ten PM?"
"Sounds like a plan," agreed Chris.
After they both disconnected, Chris pulled out his tattered old pocket calendar. Like his paper and manilla files, Buck teased him about the way he kept track of appointments. On the entry for Saturday Chris wrote down 3PM, Old Bisbee Brewing. They wouldn't meet at Old Bisbee Brewing, but 17 miles south of the place. That would be somewhere south of the airport thought Chris. Hopefully, there would be a pull off from the highway. Chris didn't want to hike out to sit beside a cactus again. But he would go anywhere for Sarah.
"Time to follow your own advice..."
Chris lectured himself as he stood up. Chris tucked the disposable cell phone and pocket calendar back in his shirt pocket beside the folded picture he kept with him always. He didn't have any other pictures of Sarah, none of John.
"Go home…"
Chris turned off the light.
"…get some sleep."
He pulled the door open.
"You talking to yourself again Pard?"
Chris blinked in surprise to see his friend Buck leaning with his back against the wall across from Sophia's office door, one booted foot crossed over his other ankle.
"Thought you went home with Lu and John Robert," prodded Chris.
"Did," nodded Buck. "Tucked John Robert into bed, took a shower, kissed Lu again and told her I'd be back soon."
Unlike Chris, who still wore his bedraggled uniform, Buck was now dressed in blue jeans and a black sweatshirt. Buck looked down at his hand and ran his thumb across his fingernails. Chris recognized the tell. It was something Buck only did when he was worried.
"What are you doing here Buck?"
"Came back to talk to you, but I heard you on the phone," Buck shrugged. "Didn't want to interrupt you, specially not if that was Sarah calling."
"Sarah left…," Chris snapped reflexively.
"If you say so," interrupted Buck.
"Why are you here Buck?" demanded Chris again.
"I actually came back to talk to you about getting Nate into the police department," answered Buck. "But I couldn't help but overhear your conversation with…"
The walls were that thin? Something in Chris's face must have alerted Buck. He gestured upwards. A missing ceiling panel. A jagged tear on the exposed ductwork. Chris remembered the open vent in Sophia's office.
"The heat is off," reminded Buck. "Sound travels."
"It wasn't Sarah," insisted Chris.
Buck shook his head and looked away for a moment. In his frantic attempt to replay the conversation he'd had with Sarah, Chris almost missed Buck's next softspoken words.
"If you say so."
Again? Chris realized from the challenge that Buck didn't believe him. Buck's gaze turned back to Chris.
"Saw a lot of strange, scary things today," began Buck. "Some like that sucky whatever it was, I'd never even heard of before."
"Yeah," agreed Chris.
He turned away. Not wanting to let Buck see how unsettled he was by the way that Elle had seemed to know him.
"Others, I'd heard about… from you."
The finality in Buck's voice caused Chris to turn back to face his friend.
"Was that a terminator? Or a hunter-killer? Or something else?"
For a moment, Chris couldn't breathe.
"What did you say?"
"You heard me."
Buck didn't ask again. He just waited patiently, like Buck had done a thousand times before. Chris's mind was bombarded with images. Some of a horrific possible future. More of many different pasts. The pasts he'd told Josiah about. Those weird dreams he'd had after his accident. And Buck had always been there at his side when it mattered most.
"I don't know what you think you heard…," began Chris.
"I was first on the scene back in September," reminded Buck. "Held your hand and listened to you talk about a terminator until the ambulance arrived. Nate let me ride with you to the hospital."
"I don't remember."
"Wouldn't expect you to."
Buck gave a rueful chuckle.
"Did you know Doc told me you only had a five percent chance of survival that first night?" asked Buck.
Chris blinked. Had it really been that close? He hadn't been told that. He'd walked out of the hospital two weeks later with crutches, a metal brace on his leg, and a prescription for physical therapy, nothing more. Getting run into by a semi wasn't on his list of favorite things to do, but when he didn't answer Sarah's calls it had the benefit of bringing Sarah and John to Four Corners for a while. Chris closed his eyes again. God, he missed them. Those few precious weeks together had left him wanting more. He'd hoped to celebrate forty with Sarah and John. Kyle Reese had never been forty before.
"No, I was told Doc thought at first they might have to amputate my leg, but…"
Chris paused. Waiting.
"You were out of it," said Buck. "Doc said talk to you, so I talked. And when you started talking, I listened."
Chris sucked in a breath at that. What had he told Buck?
"I've known since you came back from the army that you weren't the same Chris Larabee that left Four Corners," continued Buck. "Asked Doc about it back then. Aunt Nett just said war changes some folks. Figured that was all."
Buck glanced away for a moment.
"That fella before you was a bit of a prick. We weren't all that close," Buck shook his head. "For some reason, I like you better, felt I knew you better."
Buck turned back to face Chris.
"I recognized some of your stories," added Buck. "I reckon we've known each other a long time…"
Was telling Buck what Josiah had meant all those weeks ago when he said Chris was going to get Buck killed? Or would not telling Buck be more dangerous?
"Trusted each other too," reminded Buck. "You know, you and Sarah don't have to fight this thing alone!"
Buck's blue eyes darkened. Was he angry at Chris?
"Now tell me Chris," insisted Buck in a steely voice that Chris knew meant his friend wasn't going to let this go. "What was that thing that nearly killed my family?"
"A transport machine…"
And maybe Kyle should have stopped there, but Chris didn't.
"The kind that is usually used to move the Hunter-Killers."
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"There you are," greeted Sarah. "What have you got there?"
Chris lowered his arms. A playful breeze tugged at the sides of his open jacket. He stood beneath a bare ash tree seventeen miles due south of the Old Bisbee Brewing Company. The tree was mostly bare except for the branches he'd festooned with mistletoe. Chris shrugged.
"Got here a bit early," admitted Chris.
He glanced down at the remaining mistletoe still clutched in his arms. Beyond the tree he could just see the little league field. He'd left his pickup truck parked there. Hiked across the sunny field bringing mistletoe and a backpack. At least it wasn't his red backpack. Chris wasn't playing Santa.
"It's not Christmas yet, but I thought I might try to decorate…"
The unspoken thought, that they wouldn't be together then filled the space between them. The last time they'd been together at Christmas, John was wearing diapers. Sarah tilted her head to one side and looked at him quizzically.
"Decorating?"
A challenge hung on the word.
"Are you planning a reunion? Or did you actually have something you wanted to tell me?"
"Can't it be both?" asked Chris.
Eternity hung on her answer. Time was slippery. It was 2019 now. In a different timeline, at 2019 he'd been a ten-year-old boy trying to outrun and outhide hunter killer robots. In yet another timeline, he'd been an infant, knowing nothing of the terrors to come. Chris didn't want to know if a couple he only vaguely remembered from his first life lived in California, if they were expecting their first child, if somewhere soon there would be another newborn Kyle Reese.
"Maybe," answered Sarah. A smirk lit up her face. "Depends upon what you've got to tell me…"
"Buck knows," blurted out Chris. "So do a few of the others in my department."
Her smile was replaced by a horrified expression. Chris dropped the mistletoe, reached out and grabbed Sarah before she could flee taking all his hopes with him. He pulled her close to his chest. His frantic whisper tried to explain. A burble of disjointed words poured out of his mouth.
"…angry succubus… transport machine… bioluminescence… ectoplasm… Alastor Heath… BPRD…"
Sarah pushed back at his last question.
"Skynet was a defense network not just some telecommunications satellites," reminded Sarah. "And I'm not a scientist. I don't know what made Skynet self-aware or what tipped it over the edge into hating humanity!"
Chris tried to explain Josiah and HB's theory. A theory that Chris, Buck, KC, JD, Mary, Ezra, and Nate all found entirely too plausible.
"If Elle's ectoplasm is used to supply bioluminescence to the satellites, her rage will transfer with it."
Sarah swallowed.
"I wouldn't know where to even start to try and stop that…," began Sarah.
Chris pulled her close again, wrapping his strong arms around her. He envied Buck. Chris hadn't had the luxury of watching John grow up. He wanted to make sure his friend had the opportunity to see his children grow.
"You're not alone in this Sarah."
Using the words Sarah had greeted him with so long ago, Kyle continued speaking.
"I'm not dead yet Sarah," reminded Kyle. "You don't have to do this alone; we've got friends this time…"
Sarah gulped down a sob and shook her head.
"It's the end of everything," despaired the strong woman. "Again."
"No," objected Kyle.
And while Josiah could go on and on about the significance of the number seven, three was the number Chris preferred.
"Remember, third time's the charm."
Sarah, John, Chris. Together with their friends, both human and paranormal, they were going to save the world.
"This ain't the end of anything," smiled Chris. "This is just the beginning."
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