The Future War

my life being a voice crying out in the wilderness. I didn't let it get to me.

While we were working, John got a call on his cell phone from Snog at MIT.

CAMBRIDGE, MASSACHUSETTS

'I can't believe it! I just can't believe it! It's a slaughterhouse, man! They're killing everybody, there's bodies all over the campus, and the gardening equipment is running through the halls chopping people up! It's like I'm on drugs, I can't believe what's happening. I can hear them screaming!'

Snog knew that he was crying and his words were coming out so fast that it was hard to understand what he was saying; he could feel his head getting lighter and his vision blurring as he hyperventilated.

Part of him welcomed it. The view out his dorm window was bad enough when he wasn't seeing things clearly. He sniffled again and again.

'Snog,' John kept saying, his voice dead calm. 'Snog. Blow your nose, Snog.'

'What?' Snog finally said, when the words sank in.

'You're about to faint. Get your breathing passages clear and take slow deep breaths. Do it, Snog.'

The voice seemed to penetrate his brain, down below the level where Snog-aware-of-being-aware lived. He used a succession of tissues from the Kleenex box, and found that it did make him feel a little more in control to be breathing through his nose again. Looking around in embarrassment—as if anyone could see him, as if it mattered!—he wiped his eyes, too.

'Who is killing people?' John asked; he sounded as if he knew.

'Trucks, cars, motorcycles, you name it, they're out there tearing around, running people down, and there's nobody driving! It's just cars, man! It's happening all over the campus!'

A faint voice came from the background, speaking with an Austrian accent. That must be Dieter.

'What is it?' Dieter asked, with a frown in his voice.

John's voice came a little fainter as he turned his head away from the pickup: 'Snog says that anything with wheels and a motor is running people down. He says it's happening all over the campus.'

'All over the world,' Sarah said from her station.

Even then, Snog felt a slight chill at the calmness of her tone—

and the beginnings of a new strength, too. Listening to the Connors was like that, like a full-strength latte injected directly into your brain, making you think calmer and faster.

'It's going for maximum kill by trapping people in the cities.

He's got to get out of there; we need him and his friends.'

Thanks, Ms. Connor. It's so nice to know you care. But it was nice to know that he was needed, wasn't just a helpless victim in the carnage outside, that he could fight back.

'They're under Skynet's control, Snog,' John told him grimly.

'You've got to get out of the city. Now.'

'Get out… Get… John, have you been listening to me? If I go out there they'll squash me like a bug! I'm not kidding. You haven't seen—'

'You can always stay in your room until either the lawn mower arrives or the fire comes down. This is it, Snog. You don't have much time; you've got to get out now!'

Snog opened his mouth to reply; then a motion across the lane way caught his eye. His breath caught, too, torn between hope and horror, as he saw the faces peering out through the thick hedge.

'Oh, my God!'

'What is it?' John demanded.

'It's the guys. Brad and Carl and Yam, they're in the bushes across the road. My God, they're gonna get killed!'

'Maybe not,' John soothed. 'If they've made it that far, then maybe they'll be okay.'

'No, no. The trucks, they're high up, they can see 'em.'

'What makes you say that?' John asked.

'I dunno. I saw some people hide in the bushes and this truck came up and ran over 'em. It was like something told it they were there, or like it saw them hide.'

'Could the trucks be linked to the campus security cameras?'

John asked.

Snog licked his lips, tasting the salt of tears. 'I dunno, I guess.

Yeah. That could be it. They've all got wireless modems these days and GPS units. They could be—'

'What can you do about that?' John interrupted.

'What?'

'The security system, can you do something about it; shut it down maybe?'

'Yeah. Maybe. Just a second. I gotta work.' Snog put down the phone, cudgeling his brains. Yeah. Of course, doorknob, you did that hack last year! The Information Center probably never found the trapdoor. Okay, let's see—

His fingers blurred over the keyboard; in the background he could hear John's voice, faint and far, probably continuing down his list of contacts and giving them the alert.

Then: 'I did it; cameras are off-line,' Snog said.

'Did that have any effect?' John asked.

Snog peered out the window. The purposeful motion of the cars and trucks and self-propelled hedge cutters suddenly slowed, grew more tentative.

They'll be operating from stored images now; they can read the maps and tell where they are with their own GPS units, but they won't be able to see movement.

'Yeah, I think it did. Everything out there has slowed down. I think the guys are gonna make a break for it.' He leaned out the window, shouted: 'C'mon, guys. Yes! Go! Go! Go! Shit!'

'What?' John said.

'There's a car, it's coming right at them. Run, you shitheads, run! Oh shit, it must have sound pickups onboard!' Snog felt himself beginning to hyperventilate again and closed his eyes; there wasn't anything he could do. Then there was the distant sound of a crash.

He leaped up, turned, ran out of his dorm room into the corridor, sagged against the discolored wall, and then remembered the phone in his hand.

'Oh Christ, sweet Jesus, they're all right.' Snog pulled air in and laughed softly. 'The car crashed into the lobby entrance, but they were inside when it hit. Carl's got a coupla cuts, but they're all right. Oh, man.'

Everyone went into a series of manly group hugs, crashing back and forth into the walls as they whooped and shouted.

Yam took up the phone. 'Hello?' he said.

'Hey, Yam. You guys have got to get out of the city.'

'No can do, John. This is happening all over the state, every road. We're stuck.'

'It's happening all over the world, my mother says. Skynet wants to keep the cities bottled up so that more people will die when the bombs fall. I kid you not, Yam. You can take your chances and maybe get out of there, or you can sit on Snog's bed until you die. Your choice.'

'Whoa. When you put it like that… But how? We only had to come about a hundred yards to get here and we barely made it.'

'Maybe they could try going through the sewers and storm drains,' Sarah suddenly suggested. 'In that part of the country you could probably get all the way to Maine without popping your head above street level. I can't confirm that, but it's worth a try.'

'You guys hear that?' John said.

'Yeah,' Yam said with a nervous laugh. 'Hey, pop your head up, that reminds me of a video game I used to have.'

'This ain't no video game, friend. Get moving.'

Snog took the phone back; he felt a little better now, enough to be really frightened rather than teetering on the edge of a welcome blackness. 'We'll give a try,' he said. 'You know where we'll be. If we make it.'

'We'll try you there in a few days,' John said. 'Good luck, guys. Survive, we all need you.'