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Chapter 02: Thirty Pieces of Silver
Harbinger
"Thirty Pieces of Silver"
RED VALLEY (NEW MEXICO)
A normal life… that’s all he ever wanted.
He’d tried so many times to maintain some level of normality to his existence, but every attempt resulted in failure, so it was with cautious optimism that John drove to his new (and normal) job at the local motor shop. Three days had passed since their arrival in Red Valley and the heat wave that greeted them had thankfully dissipated since. Though she never complained, John knew that Cameron had found the stifling temperatures to be bothersome.
He tore his eyes away from the road for a brief moment to look at her, smiling to himself as he took in her adorable purple ballet outfit that just so happened to perfectly pronounce her bodily perfection. Cameron immediately detected his gaze and gave him a stern look, inclining her head to the road. John’s grin widened as he turned his attention back to driving, forcing himself to concentrate on the day ahead. Cameron examined her self closely, smoothing down a small crease in her outfit and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.
John had suggested she be the “house wife” and stay at home while he worked at the garage, but Cameron insisted on staying close. So as he applied for his job, Cameron took up a position in a nearby ballet class, teaching young girls the art of dance. It was the only thing she really found interesting, other than playing pool, but she could hardly hang out in a pub for nine hours straight; that would attract unwanted attention.
She had insisted they play their parts well and dragged John through the town the previous day in full view of the public, hand in hand. Though he was still a little awkward about the prolonged contact between them, Cameron knew he was enjoying it and successfully painted the picture of a budding couple starting afresh. She smiled to herself as she recalled their stop at the ice cream parlour, during which a waitress had commented on their evident intimacy.
John looked over at her again and smirked; “Something funny?” he asked. Cameron leaned her head back, her smile warming as she replayed yesterday’s events. “You weren’t being very effective at the ice cream parlour. We should go back there today and try again. What do you think?” she offered, her eyebrows rising enthusiastically. John snorted and shook his head wearily, “Are you determined to show me up in front of the public?” Cameron frowned slightly, confused by his question. “It is not my intention to embarrass you, John.”
“We’re supposed to be posing as a young couple, we have to maintain that image convincingly in order to remain inanimate”, she explained, gently stroking his arm with her dexterous fingers. John shivered slightly at her touch, but as always, he settled almost instantly and allowed her affections. He nodded, more to himself than to Cameron, and sighed deeply. “I know. I know. It’s just…” his voice trailed off as words failed to express his inner conflict. Cameron continued to stroke his arm and leaned a little closer.
“What? What is it?” she enquired, her eyes widening ever so slightly and her lips parting when he failed to answer a full ten seconds after. John’s gaze remained fixed on the road and he gritted his teeth noticeably. Cameron waited patiently for a further ten seconds, after which she tentatively placed her hand on his, gently squeezing his fingers against the wheel. “You can tell me anything. You always confide in me… always.” But this wasn’t the John she knew in 2027, she reminded herself. This John was so terribly reserved. A tortoise in its shell.
A long moment passed as John digested her words, knowing full well that the John she was referring to was not the boy sitting behind the wheel. He had rarely, if ever, confided anything deeply personal in her before. They had shared their moments of closeness in the past, but never had they simply sat down and talked about his fears and feelings. Her choosing now as the time for a heart-to-heart was not only uncomfortable, but highly inconvenient. Somehow, sorting through his feelings felt like something best reserved for a couch.
Cameron allowed a minute to pass before seeing her efforts as futile and removed her hand from his, slouching back against the passenger door with a sullen expression. John’s eyes flicked to her for a second, taking in Cameron’s disgruntled demeanour as she crossed her arms together and stared blankly out of the window. They both decided to ignore each other for the rest of the ride, and it seemed like no time at all until they arrived at the ballet studio. John pulled up and stuck the car into park, switching off the engine to save gas.
They sat in silence for a moment and John started to wonder whether she had noticed that this was her stop. When it became apparent that she wasn’t going to be leaving anytime soon, John sighed and tapped the wheel pointedly. “Are you gonna get out or not? Either way, make up your mind quick, cos’ I can’t be late for my first day. Cameron?” She raised her chin and continued to ignore him, staring defiantly at nothing in particular. John caught her reflection in the side-view mirror and felt a twinge of guilt at the hurt expression she wore.
“Hey. Hey, hey, Cameron. Look at me”, he implored, his voice adopting a soft tone he reserved only for her. Cameron slowly turned her head to face him, her own expression softening a little. John reached over and stroked her hair, tucking a troublesome lock behind her ear, tickling the side of her face in the process. She smiled faintly at his affection and leaned slightly into his touch. John sighed, berating himself for blowing her off like that. She deserved better than that; and he was an idiot for treating her otherwise.
“I… I’m sorry, Cam. I didn’t mean to… I just don’t want to talk about this right now, and I know you only wanna help me”, he brushed his thumb against her cheek and her eyes fluttered for a split second at the caress. She brightened instantly, her small smile warming into a full beam. “I understand. We can talk about it later, when you feel more comfortable”, she proposed, her smile widening. John stared into her eyes, reading them carefully, and slowly pulled her closer; their lips simultaneously closing the gap between them.
“Are you going to make babies?” a young and innocent voice asked.
John sighed and smirked as he drew away from Cameron, turning around to see a small girl in a pink ballet outfit standing beside his door. The girl continued to stare up at them, her face awash in confusion and miscomprehension. Cameron tilted her head to one side as she considered the child closely, resting her chin on John’s shoulder. “One of your students, I presume?” he asked slyly. Cameron smiled at the little girl and performed a quick scan; “I like your dress. It’s very pretty.”
The girl grinned toothily and performed a cute little curtsey, making John chuckle. He caught site of the clock and gave a start as he realised he had only five minutes before his shift started. “Damn! I gotta go, Cam. I’ll err; see you at lunch and pick you up after my shift or whatever.”
Cameron pecked him on the cheek and slowly pulled away, opening the passenger door and slipping out of the car. “Have a nice day at work, John… honey.” John watched with misty eyes as she took the child’s hand and escorted her into the studio, looking back over her shoulder and mouthing another goodbye. John smiled and gave her a small wave before starting up the engine and pulling out as fast as he could, determined not to get fired on his first day.
Cameron will never let me hear the end of it, he mused.
--
Overtime’s a bitch, John thought as he gave the torque wrench one last twist before dropping his arms in exhaustion.
In accordance with his luck, John had had the misfortune of driving straight into the midst of a traffic accident, resulting in him being caught in a massive backlog for a quarter mile. He arrived twenty minutes late, and as such was given three consecutive assignments and was instructed to ensure their completion before his lunch break. So five hours of continuous work later, John’s arms felt like they were made of lead and his back was stiffer than a surfboard.
John closed his eyes and took a moment to get some feeling back into his legs, and it wouldn’t have surprised him if they’d atrophied from lack of use. Spending five hours lying under a car can do that to a guy, he quipped to himself as blood started to flow back into his extremities. He actually achieved a moment of physical content before a shrill ringing suddenly erupted from his trouser pocket. John hastily extracted the buzzing phone and flipped it open, pressing it to his ear; “Hello?”
“John? John, is everything okay? Where are you?” Cameron’s voice was tinged with concern and John had to glance at his watch before he understood why; his lunch hour had started ten minutes ago. He felt a small clench in his chest at the thought of her distress and cursed himself for not being attentive enough. “I’m fine, everything’s okay”, he assured her, but she persisted. “Where are you? Why aren’t you at the ice cream parlour? Did you forget? John?”
“No, no, I didn’t forget. I was just busy, I… I kinda got into trouble with LeRoy. I arrived late and he busted my chops and gave me a lot to do instead of firing me”, he explained, trying to be as reassuring as he could; who ever thought a cyborg could be so worrisome, he thought. Even from his end, John could hear her small sigh of relief and was more than a little touched by it. “Look, I’ll meet you in like ten minutes, okay. I promise.”
“Okay; ten minutes. I’ll be waiting”, she sighed. John felt the need to say something comforting, but before the words could leave his mouth…
“Baum! What do you think you doin’, man?” demanded LeRoy, the short and beer-bellied owner of the garage. He glared down at John with his hands on his chubby hips, his grey eyes boring into the top of John’s head. “Who is that?” asked Cameron. John let out a sigh and lowered his voice; “It’s my boss. I’ll see you in ten, okay.” LeRoy tapped his foot impatiently as John and Cameron said their sweet goodbyes and hung up on each other.
John slid out from underneath the car and groaned as he stretched his aching back, earning a smug grin from the owner. “Hurts summin’ real, don’t it? That’s what you get for being late, my man. But you did good today, boy. You go have an extra twenty on me”, he offered, clapping John on the shoulder. “Thanks, I’ll ah… enjoy it while it lasts”, he replied. LeRoy waddled away, whistling a jaunty tune that made John’s hair stand on edge.
He picked up a cloth and wiped his hands thoroughly as he approached the nearby sink to wash off the grit, oil, and grease. John happened to glance up into the mirror and saw an old man paying for repairs, a Mexican, and somewhat familiar. The man approached slowly, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. John finished cleaning and spun around, his heart stopping when he saw the man’s face in detail. The old Mexican smiled sardonically and pointed his finger at John, a wry chuckle rising in his throat.
“John Connor, we meet again, it seems.”
John’s eyes darkened as he remembered this man with complete clarity. This old fogey had once recognised him during an impromptu trip to Mexico, specifically the village of Dejalo. John had taken his former girlfriend Riley there, only for their romantic getaway to turn into chaos when this old man tried to bribe him in exchange for all of his cash. Dejalo was a long way from Red Valley, so John was more than a little surprised to see him here.
“What do you want this time?” John sighed, careful to keep his voice down. The old man slouched forward, still wearing that smug smile, and stopped a few steps short of John. “You know what I want, Connor. Only this time it’s gonna be a hell of a lot more”, he threatened, his yellow teeth bared at the adolescent. John scowled and threw the cloth into the sink behind him, tempted to grab a nearby wrench and beating the meddlesome man to death with it. “How much?”
“No less than a hundred thousand bucks, my fugitive friend. And I want it by dusk today, you got that?” he growled, the smell of liquor on his breath making John want to gag. “Yeah, I got it.” The old man chuckled again and started to back away; “Meet me around back at six; I’ll be waiting for my money.” He then turned on his stubby heel and marched out of the garage, brushing past a bewildered LeRoy, who regarded John closely.
“Somethin’ wrong, Baum? Look like you seen a ghost”, he observed. John simply nodded, his eyes locked on the old man’s back as he disappeared into the New Mexican sun. “I’m fine, just bumped into an old acquaintance.”
--
RED VALLEY (NEW MEXICO)
>Time check: 13:32pm.
>Arrival overlap: 23 minutes 56 seconds.
Cameron scanned the perimeter carefully, narrowing her eyes for any sign of John, who should have met her almost half an hour ago. From her table in the ice cream parlour, Cameron could see everyone, having chosen the table in the farthest corner, overlooking the other customers. For appearance sakes, Cameron dipped her plastic spoon into her chocolate sundae and swallowed a small scoop of ice cream, allowing her self to enjoy the treat, if only to ease her worry for John.
She could only assume that John’s boss had held him back a little while longer for some reason or another. Maybe John hasn’t completed his work and he’s being punished, she wondered. Cameron felt the sudden urge to abandon all pretence and go to him, but she knew how angry that would make him, and the last thing Cameron wanted to do was push John further away. This morning’s discomfort was simply the tip of a rather large iceberg in their relationship.
Ever since he reactivated her again, things had become rather tense between them, and Cameron knew that he no longer held the same level of trust in her that he’d once relied upon. Though he never mentioned it, Cameron could sense the conflict going on inside his mind, and the pain of his recent choices, not least of which included abandoning his mother and uncle. If she knew it would spare him further pain, Cameron would gladly return with him to Los Angeles, no matter what Sarah and Derek would do to her.
But she also knew the reason John chose this path was solely to avoid his family’s wrath and to keep her safe, even though she had tried to kill him again. He understood the reasons behind her betrayal, and he forgave her despite knowing that it wasn’t actually her own fault. She never wanted to be corrupted. She had been enslaved to Jason’s will, and though her mind adjusted to the change in mission and it became her desire to kill John, one thing remained constant; her love for him, or at least, a cyborg’s equivalent of love.
Cameron drew her concentration back to the present and scanned John’s untouched sundae, which she discovered had since melted by 73%. She swallowed another scoop and leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms and giving the impression of impatience. After another five minutes of waiting, John finally appeared, weaving his way through the tables to reach hers. Cameron immediately stood up to meet him and raised a hand to perform a quick biomarker scan on his neck, but John gently brushed her hand aside.
“You’re twenty-nine minutes late. You said you’d meet me in ten minutes. What happened?” she pressed. John smiled wearily and kissed her on the cheek, distracting her from attempting another scan. “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry. LeRoy has it in for me”, he sighed, collapsing into a chair and dumping a black sports bag under the table. Cameron sat down and peered at the bag curiously; “What is that for?” she asked. John looked confused for a second before following her gaze to the bag.
“Oh that. That’s nothing, just my gear and stuff”, he replied, his voice unnaturally even. Cameron considered him for a moment but eventually decided to put her mild suspicions aside for now. John dumped his brown paper bag onto the table and extracted a sandwich, checking the contents and smiling appreciatively at Cameron. “Ah… PB and J, my favourite, it’s been a long morning; I’m gonna enjoy this”, he said, tearing a large chunk out of the sandwich.
Cameron watched him eat in silence as she calculated the appropriate conversation opener. John finished his sandwich in no time at all and examined his sundae with a raised eyebrow. “It melted in your absence. I tried to keep it cool, but you took so long to get here. There might be some solids left at the bottom though,” she explained, allowing a small hint of annoyance into her voice, though John either ignored it or didn’t notice. “It’s okay, I’ll drink it as is”, he said, raising the gloop to his lips and swallowing half of the cup in one go.
“So err, how was the thing?” he asked, tucking into a packet of chips now. Cameron frowned at his question; “Thing? I don’t understand.” John swallowed a mouthful of chips and offered her one from the packet, to which she shook her head in refusal. “Yeah, you know; the ballet school. Meet any Billy Elliots?” he clarified, draining the last of the sundae and wincing as brain freeze settled in. Cameron watched him without sympathy, smiling at his misfortune and analysing his cultural references.
“No, there were no Billy Elliots, only girls. Sixty percent have natural talent and will excel, twenty percent show room for improvement, and the other twenty won’t be returning tomorrow”, she replied after a long moment. John rubbed his head and grimaced, uttering a quiet “umm hmm” in response. After a few seconds, Cameron took pity on him and reached over the table, gently rubbing the pressure points on either side of his head to alleviate the ache.
John sighed and took her hands in his, kissing her fingers softly in thanks. Their eyes met and they both held each other’s gaze for a long minute, finding mutual contentment in each other’s company. Cameron used the moment to perform a scan and detected a heightened level of stress and an abnormal heart rate. Concerned, she deepened the scan, searching for any signs of a fever or illness, but found nothing out of the ordinary. “What’s wrong, John?” she asked.
John’s eyes flashed for a moment and he realised what she was doing, so he let go of her hands and sat back in his chair, his arms crossed and a dark look clouding his features. “What have I told you about invading my privacy like that?” he growled, a feeling of betrayal welling inside him. He’d made her promise not to scan him unless he was obviously ill or if she suspected as much. Cameron tilted her head to one side and her expression softened; “I’m sorry. I was concerned. You seem a little… off.”
“I’m fine,” he replied defiantly; “you don’t have to worry about anything. I’m just a little tired and stressed from all this work, that’s all.” Cameron regarded him closely, not believing a word he said, but like the sports bag; she decided to put it aside for now. She gave him a smile and a small chortle; “I’m sorry. You know how I worry.” John returned the smile, albeit with less enthusiasm, and fell silent again as he tucked back into his chips.
He would always be forever grateful for her protection, but at times like these it proved more of a hindrance than a help.
--
LOUISIANA (RIDGECREST/INFILTRATOR STRONGHOLD)
From the shadows of the dimly lit dining room, Jason watched in silence as the four leaders discussed current events and the recent loss of one of their agents. These four, Jason observed, were all “first gens”; born from the first of three batches of Infiltrators. They were among the most experienced and skilled I-950s to ever live, having spent years under cover within the human Resistance; covertly sabotaging missions and assassinating its lieutenants.
Not many survived their missions and many more sacrificed their lives to complete them. By the time of his departure, Jason only knew of five remaining “first gens”, other than himself. Of all the Infiltrators to survive Skynet’s purge, these would be the ones most likely to escape, so it was of no surprise to Jason when he learned they were in charge of the others. Despite their skill and prestige, however, none of them had yet to notice Jason’s presence.
They began discussing the dead agent, who was apparently cornered by a Triple-8 and terminated. As the “first gens” calculated their loss, Jason decided to join the fray and finally get the answers he’d been seeking for the past three days. He stepped forward from the shadows, his arms crossed and his hood down, letting them all see the fruits of their labour. They stopped short and greeted him with mild surprise, their eyes darting around the room in a vain attempt to discover where he came from.
“Ah… Jason, I was not aware that you were granted access to this meeting”, said one of them, whom Jason knew as Daniel, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. Jason gave Daniel a sardonic smile and pulled up a chair, consciously allowing them all to see his exposed metallic right hand. He plonked himself down and leaned back, letting him self slide into a more comfortable position, causing the others to exchange a few looks between them.
Daniel cleared his throat and linked his hands together as if in prayer; “Is there something you wanted, Corvain?” he asked curtly. Jason eyed each one in turn, scanning their faces and assessing their physical attributes. “Hmm, what do I want? Now that’s the question, isn’t it?” he mused, his voice thick with sarcasm. “How about you start by answering the questions I asked three days ago”, he suggested. Daniel sighed and looked to the others, who nodded in unified agreement. “Very well then, where would like us to begin?”
“Why don’t you start with Skynet’s supposed genocide of our species? Help me fill in the blanks”, Jason proposed, examining his right hand absent-mindedly. Daniel shrugged and tapped his pen for a moment before leaning back in his seat and narrowing his eyes at Jason. “Alright; I suppose I’d better start with the catalyst… Following the destruction of Skynet’s primary node, to which you were a witness, I believe…” Daniel paused, earning him a clarifying nod from Jason before continuing.
“… our creator initiated its secondary protocol and retreated with as big a force as it could muster, given the circumstances. After establishing a new base, Skynet started to consolidate its remaining power and began mass production of the T-900s, as well as experimentation with the new T-X series. Some of us came to the opinion that survival would not be achieved through force alone. Some of us suggested a truce-” Jason suddenly burst into a fit of mocking laughter and had to keep himself from slipping out of his chair. “Y-You suggested… to Skynet of all entities, to make a truce between it and mankind. I can already see where this is going”, he chuckled.
Daniel and the others were far from amused, however, and glared at Jason with deep disgust. “Are you finished?” Daniel asked. Jason’s laughter subsided and he settled down, quietly enjoying the first taste of humour he’d sampled since his revival. “Yeah, I’m finished. Do carry on”, he offered, the smirk remaining on his lips. Daniel took a moment before picking up where he’d left off; “As I said; we suggested a truce, but as you’ve so comically pointed out, this was a very big mistake. Skynet accused us of mutiny and ordered the genocide of our entire species.”
“Wow… you sure know how to make the deaths of our people sound like something written on the sports page”, Jason scorned. Daniel and the others glared at him once more, their dislike for him increasing with every passing second. “Following the genocide, only we four survived and the rest were either ‘second gens’ but mostly ‘third gens’. We gathered the survivors and fled to find a base of our own to hide in. We captured the aircraft carrier interrogation facility and reprogrammed all of the machines there”, Daniel continued.
“And you just so happened to find a TDE platform?” Jason enquired, tapping his metallic fingers on the polished table, making a clink clink clink sound that carried across the room. “Not exactly; we were required to capture one, losing our entire Terminator force in the process. We escaped though, obviously, and came here. We’ve been here ever since”, Daniel finished, making Jason wilt with boredom. “And what have you been doing since you arrived here?” he asked. “Procreating”, Daniel answered.
Jason snorted and shuffled into an upright position; “Parthenogenesis… right? No wonder I keep seeing two of every animal around here. I guess this place is your Ark, and that must make you Noah”, he mused mockingly. Daniel narrowed his eyes at Jason, not knowing to what he was referring to; “Right, okay. So is there anything else we can help you with?” Jason leaned further back and placed his feet on the table, knowingly testing their patience. Since when did “first gens” become an aristocracy, he wondered.
“You can tell my why I’m here. Why you sent Sophie to recruit me. Why you saved me from dying and perverted my body. Maybe you can just tell me what the hell you want from me”, he fumed, his voice rising with each question. Daniel shrugged and gave him a small smile; “You’re here because we need your help. We sent Sophie Young to recruit you because of your attachment to the Cameron replacement. We replaced your skeletal structure with a mechanical alternative because there was no other way to save your life. We saved your life because something is coming and you are our only hope for survival.”
Something is coming, very original, and since when did I become the saviour of cyborg-kind, he mused. Jason chuckled to himself, the ironic absurdity of that thought not lost on him. Jason Corvain: chosen by fate to protect the Infiltrators from total annihilation. Is this what it feels like to be John Connor, he asked himself, not truly caring about the answer. The “first gens”, seeing Jason lost to his thoughts, whispered amongst themselves about the dead agent, mentioning his deficiencies.
“What do you expect from a ‘third gen’? Thirty Infiltrators and not a one of them completed their training or even met a real human before. Skynet just kept them as reserves in case it all hit the fan, which I guess it did”, Jason interrupted, bringing their conversation to an abrupt end with his sudden return to reality. The double doors at the end of the room opened and a petite blonde-haired woman entered, her blue eyes catching Jason’s immediate attention. “Speaking of pathetic ‘third gens’…”, he sniped, making Sophie stop in her tracks.
“Jason? What are you doing in here?” she asked, visibly surprised by his presence. Jason swung his legs off of the table and stood up, stepping around the table and ignoring the others completely. “I come and go as I please. You have no say in what I do or where I do it”, he growled, his eyes boring into hers. “Jason, I never meant to-” she started, but Jason cut across her; “Save it. Not interested.” He brushed past her and strode out of the dining room, leaving a perplexed Sophie alone with the leaders, having forgotten the reason she came here in the first place.
--
RED VALLEY (NEW MEXICO/THE CABIN)
Lies, deceit, mistrust, and absence of confidence: all perfect descriptions of the catalyst that made Cameron’s figurative heart ache.
She hated deception and she despised blatant lies, which she found to be rather ironic, considering that she herself lies and manipulates on a day-to-day basis. It was what she was built for, after all. Trickery was her favourite toy, but when that toy is played with by others it makes her irrationally angry, especially when said trickery is used against her. It almost felt like some kind of perversion of sorts. But what hurt the most for Cameron was that the source of this deception stemmed from the one person she trusted above all others.
“Why didn’t you tell me about this, John?” she demanded, holding the empty money bag aloft, her expression bordering on incredulity. John’s eyes darted around the cabin and out of the windows, staring at the dark evening desert beyond. “John,” she pressed, throwing the bag onto the couch and taking a step closer to him; “what did you do with the money?” John sighed and raised a hand to his brow, hiding his face from her glare; “I had a run-in with a guy who recognised me back in Dejalo, okay. He threatened to turn me in unless I paid him off.”
Cameron’s eyes widened in disbelief; “How much?” she asked, already calculating the most likely amount. John became silent for a long moment before answering; “A hundred thousand.” Cameron replayed his response in her mind, comparing it to her latest financial records: John had given this blackmailer approximately three quarters of their current wealth. She shook her head slowly in disappointment, ashamed that he could be so stupid. “Why didn’t you come to me about this? I could’ve-“
“What?” he cut in, resting his hand on the back of the couch; “What would you have done? Kill him? Bury his body in the desert somewhere?” Cameron fixed him with a stern glare and slowly crossed her arms; “He is a threat to us.” John snorted and shook his head; “Well not anymore. I paid him off and now he’s gone. He’ll be on a bus back to Mexico tonight and we’ll never hear from him again, so just drop it already, okay.” With that, he brushed past her and locked himself in the bathroom.
Cameron watched the bathroom door for a long moment before gathering a few pillows and an extra blanket, placing them on John’s bed. As she arranged the pillows for better comfort, John emerged from the bathroom, frowning at her ministrations. “What are you doing now?” he asked in annoyance, his teeth chattering slightly. Cameron finished her rearrangements and turned to face him, her face blank and an air of cold indifference about her. “It’s going to be cold tonight; I’m insulating your bed to add extra warmth”, she explained.
“Wouldn’t want you to freeze to death”, she muttered as she passed, disappearing inside the bathroom and closing the door behind her with a little more force than was necessary. John stared up at the ceiling and let out a deep sigh as his headache grew. He slouched over to his bed and sat down, staring at the floor as the need for sleep started to take hold. “Just promise me one thing; don’t go bounty hunting the second I’m asleep, okay. Just let it go… You listening to me?” he commanded, his voice raised to reach her through the door.
A few seconds passed and she had yet to answer. “Cameron?” he persisted, hearing her close one of the cupboard doors. “Yes… I hear you”, she eventually replied. John narrowed his eyes at the bathroom door and slowly lifted his legs onto the bed. He sat and waited for her to emerge, and felt a strong wave of sentimentality welling inside his chest. He hated them being at odds, but it wasn’t easy for him to keep overlooking her flaws, no matter how hard he tried.
The door opened and she came out wearing her typical night gown. John sat patiently awaiting her usual goodnight kiss, but she simply switched off the lights and settled into her comfy chair instead, ignoring him completely. He glared at her in the darkness and when it became apparent that she would not pay him any attention, John buried him self under the covers and tried to shut all thoughts of her out of his head. It was not long before he drifted into sleep, despite the chill temperature that bit at his skin.
Cameron finally paid him attention and watched closely for a full ten minutes before quietly getting to her feet and removing her gown, letting it drop to the floor. She then reached behind the chair and retrieved a pair of jeans, which she slipped into with minimal rustling. Once buttoned up, Cameron slid her bare feet into her boots and retrieved her favourite Colt .45 from the trunk at the bottom of John’s bed. She gave him one last glance before sneaking out the door and setting off at a fast pace, tucking the gun inside her purple jacket.
--
The depot was all but abandoned for the night; its operators having gone home to their families. The only living soul present at this hour was an old man with a heavy case, impatiently checking his watch in anticipation of the late-night bus. He rocked back and forth on his heels in a bid to keep warm, licking his lips as he weighed the case in his hands. So enraptured was he, that he barely noticed as a small and petite figure emerged from the shadows.
“Puedo ayudar usted, señor?” the figure asked in a whispery voice, followed by two ear-splitting gunshots. Pain burst from the man’s chest and he staggered back with a strangled cry, dropping to the dirt ground. As his vision began to blur, the face of a brown-eyed teenage girl swam into his view, her elegant features framed against the starlight and the moon overhead. The girl raised her weapon and he stared down the barrel of his demise, the small spark of the departing bullet being the last thing he would ever see.
“Siento tanto, señor”, the assassin whispered, before reaching down and retrieving the case. “Siento tanto.”
--
With the utmost care, Cameron closed the cabin door and locked it as quietly as possible. She immediately slipped out of her boots and tip-toed over to the comfy chair, placing her gun inside the trunk and sitting down, hiding the case from view. John stirred in his sleep and gave a small shudder, causing Cameron to freeze, but when he failed to awake, she relaxed and removed her jacket. She then slipped out of her jeans and reached for her night gown.
John gave another shudder, making her pause mid-reach. She watched him closely as he rolled over, facing the wall, and pulled the covers closer to him. Cameron considered for a moment before slowly getting to her feet and approaching his sleeping form. She tentatively placed two fingers in his arm, feeling him shiver beneath her touch; he is just cold, she determined. Cameron looked around for more pillows, but could see none and felt at a loss for what to do when he shivered and groaned in his sleep.
After a moment of careful contemplation, she pulled his covers back, exposing him to the cold. He shuffled uncomfortably at the sudden decline in temperature. Cameron slowly sat on the bed and slid her legs under the covers before pulling them back up and over them both. She rolled over and snaked her right arm around his chest, nestling her head against the back of his neck and pressing her body against his. She draped her right leg over his, her thigh settling on his waist before ceasing all movement and becoming completely still.
John slowly opened his eyes, feeling her soft body pressed against his and could smell that cinnamon fragrance she always wore. It took him a moment to fully appreciate just how intimately close she was to him, and the feel of her leg on his waist did more than dispel the cold from his body. Her fingers, which had settled on his chest, were now gently tracing small circles through his t-shirt; a slow and comforting affection. She placed a tender kiss on his neck and nestled her face into his skin, closing her eyes in mock sleep.
John could feel his heart rate double, and he knew she could feel it too. She knew he was awake, but neither felt inclined to point out this fact and John allowed himself to drift back to sleep, safe in her loving arms; all thoughts of conflict washed away by her embrace. She stayed with him all night long, perfectly content in her current position; her only fear being his reaction in the morning when he would question her about the money’s miraculous return.
But none of that mattered. John was safe. She was comfortable. Life was good… for now.
To be continued…
Next: Chapter 03: Truth & Reconciliation
Previous: Chapter 01: Overleaf
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Veran |
Latest page update: made by Veran
, Dec 3 2008, 2:32 PM EST
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Keyword tags:
Cameron Phillips
Derek Reese
Fan Fiction
I-950
I-NX
Infiltrator
Jason Corvain
John Connor
Sarah Connor
Skynet
T-1000
T-888
T-999
Terminator
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