The Future War

Brad shook his head. 'Not if it dissipated before we got here.

Remember, it took us hours to get this far. If these areas were gassed in the early morning, before the commuters were up and around, then this area would have been safe since about eight o'clock.'

Snog frowned, considering what Brad had said. 'One thing bothers me about that, though.'

'What?' Carl asked.

'If this area was pacified by gas attack, I don't see how it could have been done by Skynet. I just can't see a bunch of bombers happening to be loaded with gas canisters, y'know. Not over the U.S. anyway. So who would have done it?'

' Pacified?' Carl muttered.

'Well,' Brad said, apparently figuring it out as he spoke, 'I don't know what the government had stored ready to turn over to the friggin' computer. So it could have been canisters dropped from an airplane. But I think it's unlikely. For one thing, we haven't run across any empties.'

'Sooo, you're suggesting that maybe, if there was a gas attack, that someone, like, hid them and then set them off by remote, or by a timer?' Carl asked.

Brad nodded. 'It's a possibility.'

Snog looked around the Dumpster, then back at his friends, frowning. 'Unfortunately, that indicates a human element.'

Brad nodded.

'Well, who the fuck would want to do something like that?'

Carl exploded. 'You'd have to be crazy!'

'Some extremist group,' Snog said. 'Those bastards are crazy. Apparently they aren't technically crazy, they're self-deluded, but that's a distinction that only the shrinks care about. For our purposes, they're loons.'

'Which loons, though?' Carl asked.

'Luddites,' Brad said, and nodded, as though agreeing with some inner voice.

Snog had always taken Brad's silent conversations with himself for granted. But it occurred to him now that they were all a bit weird. Maybe it's a bit arrogant for us to call anybody else a loon, but if Brad's right, then hell, why not?

'I was reading this article in Time magazine about them,'

Brad said. 'Apparently they have an extreme fringe group that thinks humanity should be sterilized in order for the planet to survive.'

'That's crazy all right,' Carl muttered.

'We could go and look in one of the houses,' Brad suggested; they all looked at one another, and the consensus was obvious without anyone speaking; they'd seen enough for a lifetime already this day.

Snog listened to the silence and in the far distance he thought he heard the sound of an ice cream truck making its rounds. It must be one of those coin-operated, automatic types that had come out last summer. It was early for an ice cream truck, only March. His stomach rumbled and a sudden desire for an orange Creamsicle hit him.

What am I thinking? he asked himself. Millions are dying and you want a Creamsicle? 'Let's go,' he said. There was a strip mall across the street that he wanted to check out.

They approached it from the back because there was more cover there. A man's body lay against the wall, the middle of his body crushed down to about an inch, an uneaten ice cream cone melting on the pavement beside his left hand. Bits and pieces were—

Carl turned and heaved into the bushes. After a moment, Brad joined him. Snog moved away from them, determined not to give in to the urge to make it three.

He heard the merry tinkle of the ice cream truck coming closer and the sound made the hair on the back of his neck crawl erect with a prickling sensation. He went to the body and felt in the man's pockets for keys, only to notice there was a bunch in the man's right hand. That meant putting his hand into the pool of what had… leaked… from the body.

Grimly Snog wiped his hand clean on the lower part of the man's pants. Then he grabbed the keys and started to try them on the door. The ice cream truck turned into the parking lot of the strip mall; he could hear the sound of its tires in spite of the loud, tinkly tune. His hands were shaking as he tried key after key.

What's with this guy? Fifty keys?

'Shit!' Snog muttered softly. 'Shit, shit, shit!'

The others came and crowded close to him, their eyes wide as they looked anxiously to the end of the row where the ice cream truck slowly approached. Gravel crunched.

Carl snatched the keys from Snog's hand and without hesitation fitted one into the lock. They rushed inside and quietly closed the door behind them.

'How did you know which one to use?' Snog whispered.

Carl held up the key. It bore a label that said store.

Snog looked at Brad and the two of them broke up, laughing hysterically as Carl kept saying, 'Shhhh! Shhhh!' He slapped Brad and both he and Snog gasped in shock and stared at him.

Then they heard it. The truck's tires made crunching sounds as it approached.

Carl's lips formed the words, 'The body.'

The truck sped up and from the sound scraped its length along the side of the building. A soft, wet sound interrupted the screeching of metal against stucco. Then the truck backed up, went forward, backed up, all the while playing its mindlessly merry tune. Snog broke for the front of the store and was sick to his stomach behind the counter. Pale-faced, Brad and Carl followed him, silently crouching down beside him.

'Shit!' Snog swore passionately, half in tears. ' Shit!'

Brad patted his shoulder. They sat quietly until the ice cream truck went away. Then they sat for a while longer. Slowly Snog became aware of what he was looking at. Dangling from the ceiling and ranged along the walls was a colorful herd of mountain bikes. Farther into the store there was camping equipment, tents, blankets, cooking supplies, down jackets, the whole magilla.

'Paydirt,' he said softly.

The others looked at him and he gestured at the stock before them. It took a minute for his meaning to penetrate their shock, then, slowly, they both smiled.

CHAPTER SIX

JOHN CONNOR'S INVITATION-ONLY WEB SITE

This is it, folks, the nightmare we've all been waiting for. For those of you in more rural areas who may be unaware of what's happening, at least I hope you are, I have some scary news. For the last several months Skynet has been experimenting with some vehicles built in automated plants that it controls. It's been causing accidents all over the world, with, taken all together, a pretty grim death toll. Anyone who has a new vehicle is in danger; anything older than two years is probably fine unless you've upgraded it.

What's happening right now, all over the world, is that these vehicles have gone rogue and are trapping people in cities, the better to kill them when the bombs fall. And those bombs are coming, soon. If you are in a city or town, leave now. Wake and warn your friends and relatives by all means, but run for it.

You don't have much time left. Head for the mountains or the wilderness.

Good luck.