“Are you?” Blair countered. “Three scientists working for Skynet drop in out of the blue and just happen to stumble onto your town. They say they’ve been working for Skynet, yet Skynet never comes looking for them. They settle down, get to know the people, let the people get to know them... and then, a couple of months later, this stranger Jik comes wandering into town.”
“And they sit back and take notes and see how all the rest of you react to him,” Barnes said. “See if you can spot a Theta when it’s staring right back into your face.”
“That’s crazy,” Trounce insisted. “Connor said one of those hybrid things attacked him. Why would it do that if they were both on the same team?”
“Because it’s no use seeing if people can pick a Theta out of a crowd if they don’t know Thetas even exist,” Blair said.
“Right,” Barnes agreed. “They’re infiltration units. They have to be able to pass for human in front of people who know they’re out there.”
Blair shivered, her mind flashing back over the long, dark years. Skynet hadn’t started its war that way. For a long time it had relied on massive, brute-force firepower to take out the survivors of the Judgment Day nukes. But as the Resistance had gotten organized and hardened, it had gradually shifted its focus from T-1 tanks and H-Ks to the subtler but ultimately more effective tactic of infiltration.
The T-600s had been the first, and they’d been bad enough. It was unnerving to see a stranger coming toward you down a dark street, knowing you wouldn’t be able to tell whether it was human or machine until it was well within killing distance.
But a Terminator who could walk right up to you without betraying its identity was far worse. If Skynet ever got Thetas into full production it might well be the beginning of the end for the Resistance.
And the end of the Resistance would be the end of humanity.
“Let me get this straight,” Smith said. “So Connor shoots up—”
“He’s not Connor,” Barnes cut him off.
“Whoever,” Smith said impatiently. “So him shooting up a Theta is proof he’s one of them. But you two shooting up a couple of T-700s is proof you’re not?”
“You want proof?” Barnes asked. “No problem. You got any magnets in town?”
Smith and Trounce exchanged looks.
“Maybe,” Smith said cautiously. “Why?”
“You heard what we said about Jik getting tangled up at the ford,” Barnes said. “There’s some magnetic metal in Terminator endoskeletons. All you need to do is get a magnet and run it over him.”
“Just make sure you have your guns ready,” Blair warned. “And don’t let Lajard and the others get away, either.”
Smith shook his head. “You two are certifiable,” he said sadly.
“Forget it,” Barnes growled. “Maybe Preston will listen to reason.”
Smith angled his head backwards, peering out the side of the window.
“We’ll find out soon enough,” he said. “Here he comes now.”
Hope hadn’t seen Susan and the other two scientists since her father and Jik had rushed everyone over to Annabel’s house and started collecting and preparing the equipment for their attack on the T-700s. Knowing Susan, Hope expected her to be waiting when she and her father arrived back in town.
Sure enough, there she was, standing by one of the trees and picking restlessly at its bark.
What Hope hadn’t expected was that Lajard and Oxley would be with her.
“So it’s done?” Lajard demanded as the two Prestons came into sight. “You’ve destroyed them?”
“That’s right, we did,” Preston said. “Which you could have found out from any of the others who just came through here.”
“Yes, well, none of the others seem all that excited about talking to us right now,” Oxley growled. “Like this was our fault.”
Hope looked sideways at her father, wondering if he would point out that it was at least partly their fault. Willingly or not, the three of them had worked for Skynet.
But as usual, her father was diplomatic.
“That’ll pass,” he said instead. “We got both Terminators, and no one got hurt. It’s over.”
Lajard hissed. “Right. No one got hurt except a couple of valuable machines that weren’t bothering anyone.”
“Give it a rest, Remy,” Oxley said sourly. “And it’s not exactly over yet. We still have to decide what to do with Barnes and Williams.”
“We’re going to let them go, aren’t we?” Hope asked.
“That’s up to Connor,” Oxley told her. “He’s the one they seem out to get.” He looked at Lajard. “And since Connor’s the one who came up with the plan to take down the T-700s, I’d say he’s proved his credentials.”
Again, Hope looked at her father. Again, he passed up the obvious comment.
“We can discuss it when he gets back,” he said. “In the meantime, Hope and I need to go home and clean up.”
“Actually,” Susan spoke up hesitantly, “I was wondering if I could borrow Hope for a while.”
“What for?” Preston asked, frowning.
“What else?” Susan bent over and lifted her bow and a quiver of arrows. “Someone needs to keep the food coming. With everyone else busy with the Terminators, I thought she and I could see if we could find some game.”
“That’s very generous of you,” Preston said. “But we should have enough food in town to handle a night or two.”
“I’m not so sure,” Oxley warned. “I was talking to Vic earlier, and he said the cupboard’s looking pretty bare.”
“If I can’t have Hope, can I go out alone?” Susan persisted. “I’d like to do something today to earn my keep.”
Preston looked at Hope. “What do you think?”
Hope hesitated. The Terminator battle had left her pretty worn out, emotionally as well as physically. On top of that, she really wanted to be there when her father talked with Blair and Barnes.
But the forlorn, desperately eager look on Susan’s face was impossible to ignore.
“It’s okay,” she said, suppressing a sigh. “I’ll go with her.”
Her father looked at Susan, then reluctantly nodded.
“All right,” he said. “But I don’t want you going any farther than Crescent Rock. Clear?”
“Clear,” she confirmed.
“Get going, then,” he said. “And be careful.”
“Don’t worry, she’ll be fine,” Susan promised. She gave Hope a tentative smile. “We’ll both be just fine.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
The concrete turned out to be tougher than Kyle had expected when he’d suggested the plan. Callahan did his first shift, digging away with his knife until his arms were too weary to lift anymore. Kyle had taken over from him, then Zac. After that it was back to Callahan and once again to Kyle.
Along the way they ruined both Callahan’s and Kyle’s knives, first dulling the edges and then grinding down or breaking the blades themselves.
It was on Kyle’s turn, as he was dragging a piece of bent metal through the enlarged groove, when it finally happened. The section of slab abruptly shifted, the end swinging down half an inch as if on hinges, closing the groove and trapping the end of their cutter.
“Got it,” he whispered down to the others, trying to blow out the concrete dust that had settled into his lungs without the noise of a cough.
“Okay, get down,” Callahan whispered back. “Hurry—they’ll be back any minute now.”
Carefully, Kyle climbed down from his perch on the door frame, wincing at the fresh cuts and scrapes on his hands as he steadied himself on Callahan’s and Zac’s shoulders.