THE COMING OF THE MACHINES
Soon, their problems really began. The machines had searched out humans to the ends of the Earth. They found Buenos Aires and the other great South American cities untouched by Judgment Day's nuclear fires, but riddled with bullet holes, ruined by the warlords. Skynet's Hunter-Killer machines—the aerial and ground H-Ks— poured from the gray sky, and from the mountains and jungles of the north. They swept into the cities, accompanied by the first combat endoskeletons, like walking images of Death, or beings from a horror movie. They killed as many humans as possible, driving the others into extermination camps, to deal with them more efficiently.
When the war machines first came, the human Resistance struck back, including fragments of the once-proud U.S. military that had survived Judgment Day. They targeted Skynet's forces with the only weapons that were truly effective: tactical nuclear warheads. But no matter what was thrown at them, the machines returned. They never relented, never lost patience, were never beaten.
The Earth was damned already. Now it became a worse circle of Hell.
BUENOS AIRES, ARGENTINA
2012
The craters from tactical nuclear explosions stomped asymmetrically through the city and the countryside all round, like a giant's drunken footprints. Ruined buildings rose from a desert of broken concrete. Nothing green showed itself in the perpetual winter. Here and there, the twisted metal skeletons of old skyscrapers towered above lesser ruins. Some vehicles had been pushed together by the Resistance, and piled up into roadblocks. Bonfires made of rubber tires burnt in the street. Occasionally, a rat foraged for food, or a dull gray bird flew from one crumbling window ledge to another.
Humans and machines exchanged fire beneath the sunless sky. The sinister electronic noise of the phased- plasma mechanisms answered the noisy clatter of the Resistance guerrillas' assault rifles. Explosions boomed through the streets, leaving billows of dark, rising smoke. All round was the smell of gunpowder and harsher chemicals. Skynet's H-Ks swept through the city's streets. Occasionally, they stabbed at their human enemies with needles of shocking blue light from their phased-plasma laser cannons.
'We've got to withdraw, John,' Sarah said through gritted teeth. 'There's too many of them.' Even as she approached her fifties, Sarah was as tough as any of them. Her hair was now a steel gray, when once it had been honey brown, but her body was still lithe and muscular.
John needed no encouragement. 'Withdraw!' he shouted, in Spanish, then repeated it in English. 'Fall back! Fall back!' The order echoed through the guerrillas' lines. They ran half-crouched, with zigzagging movements, seeking the next position of cover.
Dozens of the flying H-Ks circled like huge, flesh-eating dragonflies, looking out for prey. The super-intense light beams from their laser cannons incinerated whatever they hit, taking only a second to burn up a human body like a match head. Following in their wake was a column of ground H-K's, Skynet's huge, tank-like juggernauts. These were almost unstoppable as they crawled slowly on their caterpillar treads through the maze of streets. Keeping pace with them were dozens of smaller killers, the nimble Centurion gun-pods, mounted on four legs, and Skynet's most adaptable ground weapons of all: the metal endoskeletons.
The humanoid endoskeletons seemed like the real enemy, the easiest to hate and curse, but that was an illusion. They were no more and no less alive than the rest of Skynet's weapons. Always alert, they marched forward, scanning for life with their visible light and infrared sensors. Sometimes one or two peeled off from the main force and disappeared into a building or an alleyway, hunting for anyone who be might be hiding there.
As John ran, a killer heat beam scored the ground just ahead, then another to his right. There was shouting and confusion all round. One handful of human guerrillas found themselves too close to the enemy, seriously exposed as they sought cover. They took firing positions, and aimed at the machines.
'We've got to get back,' John said to his immediate group, the dozen or so people around him. 'I'm following. Go on—move!' The T-800 stuck close to his side, always loyal and effective.
Suddenly, two heat beams struck home, taking out Paco Salceda and a U.S. ex-serviceman, Jerry Lanza— just like that.
There was nothing John could do for them. He just felt empty. He pushed down the pain of losing his friend, Paco, and concentrated on other things. He'd grieve later, let it out when he got back to their base, with Sarah and the others. As he ran, his boots pounding on the broken street, his breathing getting ragged, he fired his own laser rifle, shooting from the hip. He cupped his left hand under the barrel to balance its weight as he fired. The rifle was booty from the machines and more effective than the small arms possessed by the Resistance, but it had never been designed for humans. It was too heavy for him to operate in the manner of the endoskeletons, which waved these huge weapons around like toys.
Reaching a T-intersection, John and his group broke off to the right. Others had headed left or taken cover in the buildings immediately ahead.
Fifty yards along the street, he headed for a five-foot pile of broken concrete, collapsing behind it and getting his breath back. The T-800 joined him, brandishing its own laser rifle. Then Juanita Salceda scurried beside him. She had become a tall, intense woman who fought the machines as fiercely as anyone. She'd just seen her brother die. John shook his head to acknowledge the death. Yes, they'd talk about it later. He'd try to comfort her. For now, he just said, 'Are you all right?'
Juanita nodded as they leaned their backs into the concrete pile. Her face looked ashen. They were in a good position here, with the street's angle blocking the ground machines' sensors. At their back was a ten-story wall from an old building, which cut off the aerial H-Ks' lines of sight, at least from most angles. Others found positions of temporary cover, using every wall, doorway, broken pipe, hump in the road, metal roadblock, or rusting shell of a car that presented itself, but avoiding the fields of mines they'd laid as a greeting for the machines.
Juanita fitted her M-249 automatic weapon with a new belt of ammunition, then wriggled around to rest it on top of the concrete. She could lug the M-249 about with the macho cockiness of a big man. 'I'm okay,' she said.
'Good,' John said. 'We've got to buy some time.'
'I know. Every bit counts.'
It was quiet just now; there was a lull in the fighting. John peered over the top of his makeshift rampart, aiming his laser rifle. Now he had more cause for concern. Sarah had found cover, but it wasn't adequate—just the rusted-out hulk of a car, rotting in the street. That wouldn't stop the burst from a laser cannon.
'Mom!' he yelled. 'Get back here. Quickly!'
Then the first endoskeleton rounded the corner, and the humans fired from three sides with everything they had. Their M-16s and Kalashnikov AK-47s had little effect, even against the endoskeletons, let alone the larger machines. Juanita's M-249 could throw up a wall of metal against the endoskeletons, but it hardly bothered them. Light anti-tank weapons and RPG tubes were more useful, but still limited in effectiveness.
As the first ground H-K entered the 'T' of the intersection, someone fired down from the roof of a low-rise building, striking the juggernaut with a rocket-propelled grenade. It pierced the first layer of the H-K's armor, showering sparks and metal fragments as it exploded. The H-K stopped for a moment, then resumed its ] progress. One of its bulbous turrets swiveled and aimed in the direction of the attack, then fired a series of heat beams at the building. An aerial H-K launched an antipersonnel missile at the same target.
It struck with a cataclysmic explosion, blowing the building apart, and momentarily deafening John, as the street seemed to shake. He ducked for cover as a wave of debris washed over them. No more fire came from the buildings as Skynet's invaders muscled their way through the rain of grenades and other projectiles coming from the street. As the endoskeletons walked, their skull-like heads moved slowly from side to side, scanning for targets.
With his back pressed into the pile of concrete, John waited for a few seconds, then hefted his laser rifle once more, balancing it on top of the concrete. The T-800 look aim a second before him, quickly but carefully, and tired at the nearest endoskeleton, hitting it squarely in its skull-like head, drilling a hole beneath its glowing red 'eyes.'
Immediately, the enemy units traced the source of his beam and returned vengeful fire from several angles— the endoskeletons, the cannons of the land H-Ks, and Centurions. One of the flying H-Ks joined in. John got his head down as heat beams passed over him, then swung up the laser rifle just long enough to take aim at the endoskeleton that the T-800 had already hit. The shot had damaged it. Its metal jaw sagged with a crooked
