Trial By Fire

Susan and Oxley weren’t as dogmatic in their support as Lajard was. Susan, in particular, seemed to straddle the line. On one hand, she agreed that she and the other humans working in Skynet’s underground lab had been treated quite well. On the other hand, though, she’d seen the Terminators react instantly and strongly to anything they perceived as a threat. For her, the question seemed to boil down to what exactly Skynet considered a threat these days.

Most of the townspeople, with no direct knowledge either way, generally ignored the question. Whatever was happening in the world beyond Baker’s Hollow seemed distant and academic.

Only it wasn’t. Not anymore.

Hope’s father was clearly thinking along the same lines.

“Whatever Skynet’s original plan might once have been is irrelevant,” he said. “The question is what it’s doing now. More specifically, what it’s doing here in Baker’s Hollow.”

“The Terminators are here to kill,” Barnes growled. “Wherever they go, they’re always there to kill.”

“That’s paranoid nonsense,” Lajard scoffed. “As long as it doesn’t perceive us as a threat, we’ll be fine.”

“What kind of non-threat do you want us to be?” Barnes demanded. “You mean like we just sit back and watch while it tracks down and kills whoever is out there?”

There was an uncomfortable shuffling of feet from the crowd. Hope looked around, studying the various faces, trying to gauge their moods. Those who’d seen the Terminators in action clearly weren’t thrilled at the thought of going up against them again. But they weren’t any happier with the idea of simply abandoning whoever was out there.

“Who says they’re planning to kill him?” Lajard countered. “Maybe it’s a search and rescue operation. You don’t have any proof they’re trying to kill anyone.”

Barnes snorted. “They have guns, right?”

“So did the T-700s who were with us before our accident,” Lajard said. “So do you. So do half the people in town. In case you hadn’t heard, there are big, hungry predators prowling around out here.”

“Sure are,” Barnes said. “And the worst of them are made of metal—”

“Tell us about the accident,” Blair cut in.

“There’s really not much to tell,” Susan said. “We were working at the lab on something called the Theta Project. We’d developed a new type of hip and lower spine system—new materials as well as new stance- maintenance software—and we needed to field-test it. The biggest question was how it would do on steep terrain, so the three of us and the prototype were loaded aboard a transport and flown up into the mountains about twenty miles northwest of here. We’d landed and gotten out, and the T-700s were starting to unload our equipment, when an avalanche came down and buried everything.”

“We escaped most of it,” Oxley added. “But we didn’t have a radio we could use to call for help. Or any food or shelter, either. We hung around the site for a couple of days, but no one came.”

“Eventually, we realized we were going to have to get back on our own,” Susan said. “We started hiking back down the mountains, but it was deep forest, and we didn’t have any maps. We got lost.”

“Seriously lost,” Oxley agreed. “We were on pretty much our last legs when Susan spotted some smoke rising from a mountainside in the distance. We changed course and headed that direction.”

“They nearly didn’t make it, either,” Preston put in. “One of our hunting parties ran across them thrashing weakly through a row of thorn bushes. All three were suffering from exposure and malnutrition.”

“Most of that last part is a blur,” Susan admitted, a flicker of memory crossing her face. “At least, for me. I think it was a week before any of us could even get out of bed.”

“Bottom line is that we owe these people our lives,” Lajard said firmly. “We’re not going to repay them by bringing destruction down around their heads.” He eyed Barnes warningly. “Or by letting anyone else do it, either.”

“Fine,” Barnes said calmly. “We got the message. Nice meeting you all.” He stood up and headed for the door. “Come on, Williams.”

“Wait a minute,” Preston said, jumping to his feet. “Where are you going?”

“We’re leaving,” Barnes said. “You heard Lajard. He says we’re putting you at risk.”

“Lajard doesn’t speak for the town,” Halverson spoke up brusquely, throwing a hard look at Lajard as he stepped away from the wall into Barnes’s path. “Anyway, we’re not sending you on your way until you’ve had some food and rest. We owe you that much.”

“He’s right,” Preston seconded. “Let me show you to our rooms while Hope and I get something together for you to eat.”

“My place is more comfortable,” Halverson said. “And Ginny’s already got food ready.”

“They’ll be fine here,” Preston said, locking eyes with Halverson. “It won’t take long.”

“They’re coming to my place,” Halverson said in the voice he always used when he’d made up his mind about something. He gestured to Barnes. “Come on—it’s a few houses down.”

“Mayor?” Blair asked.

Hope looked at her father, noting the familiar tension in his jaw. But he merely nodded.

“It’s all right,” he said. “Go ahead.”

“Fine,” Barnes said, eyeing Preston closely as he gestured to Blair. “We’ll grab our stuff and be right with you.”

They headed out, Halverson striding along in the lead. With the meeting clearly over, the rest of the crowd began to file out behind them. A minute later, Hope and her father were alone.

“That might not have been a good idea,” Hope said hesitantly.

“You mean letting Halverson push me around in front of everyone?” Preston responded, his voice tight as he crossed to the window and peered out. “That happens all the time.”

“I was thinking Barnes and Blair might rather have stayed here with us,” Hope said.

“They’ll get over it,” Preston said, still gazing out the window. “As for Halverson, for once he did exactly what I was hoping he’d do.”

Hope frowned. “You wanted them to go with him?”

“What I wanted was to be left alone for a couple of hours.” Preston left the window and headed to the corner where he’d propped his rifle. “You remember that bridge I told you about a long time ago, the one that one of the summer kids and I built over the river?”

Hope had to search her memory.

“The one you made out of rope and a bunch of boards you swiped from the Pennering building site?”

“That’s the one,” Preston said, nodding. “I think whoever’s out there has crossed that bridge.”

“How would he know it was there?”

“Only two ways I can think of,” Preston said. “Either he happened on it by accident, or else he’s the one who helped me build it.”

“Whoa,” Hope said, feeling her eyes widen. “You mean some kid who visited here thirty years ago is back? That’s really... unlikely.”

“Unlikely as in the scratch end of zero,” Preston agreed. “I know. And for the record, it was closer to forty years ago. But I can’t think of any other reason why those two T-700s would suddenly decide to head up opposite sides of the riverbank. Whoever they’re hunting must have gotten across the river, and that’s the only other place for miles where that’s possible.”

“That assumes the bridge is still there, of course,” Hope warned. “Rope bridges and mountain winters don’t exactly go together.”

“Which is why I want to go up there and take a look,” Preston said. He checked his rifle’s magazine, then headed for the door.

“What if the Terminators are waiting?” Hope asked, scooping up her bow and quiver and hurrying to catch up.

“They won’t be,” Preston assured her. “The bridge comes off a narrow path at the bottom of a steep defile. Even if the machines know where it is, they’re not going to be able to get down there without dumping themselves into the river. Best they can do is look down on it from above, and even that’s iffy.” He stopped, eyeing her as she came up beside him. “Where exactly do you think you’re going?”