Yarrow should have been blocking most of the Terminator’s view, but with Terminators you never knew. The footsteps came closer... closer... reached the hole...
And passed by without breaking stride.
Kyle stole another look at Callahan. He was facing up and over his shoulder, his eyes focused on something back there. Kyle followed his line of sight, and spotted the faint shadows passing across the hole as the Terminators filed by.
There was a long line of them. T-700s, Kyle guessed, from the clink of bare metal on the concrete above them. Several had gone by before it occurred to Kyle that he should probably be counting the shadows. Another eleven of the machines made it past after he started his count.
Finally, the last one passed, and the sound and vibration of their footsteps faded away. “Eighteen,” Zac breathed, his voice trembling. “There were
“Where do you think they were going?” Callahan asked.
“You heard Yarrow,” Kyle said. “The tunnel’s heading into the camp.”
Callahan muttered something under his breath.
“Come on,” he said, shifting his grip to the edge of the tunnel floor. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Hold it,” Zac said suddenly, grabbing his hand and pulling it back down out of sight. “There’s more coming.”
Kyle froze, holding his breath as he listened. A few seconds later, he heard the metallic footsteps again headed in their direction. He looked up at the wall, waiting for the shadows to appear.
A minute later they did.
Only this time they were heading the opposite direction.
Kyle peered up at the shadows, a risky plan starting to take shape in the back of his mind. He had no idea what kind of peripheral vision T-700s had, and sneaking a single eye out of cover to see what was going on could conceivably get all three of them killed.
But Zac had counted eighteen Terminators in the last pass. If he was right, and if this was the same group heading back again...
He waited, counting until the eighteenth came by. The footsteps changed tone—it was indeed the last one in line. Shifting his grip on the rebar, Kyle eased his head up for a quick look.
It was a T-700, all right. But instead of the usual submachinegun, it was carrying a huge, jagged chunk of concrete. Kyle threw a quick glance behind it, confirmed there weren’t any more machines, and craned his head up a little higher.
He was only able to see the last three Terminators in line. But that was enough. All three of the machines were lugging pieces of broken concrete or twisted metal.
Kyle lowered his head again. Callahan and Zac were looking at him questioningly, but he shook his head, nodding toward the retreating line of Terminators.
Once again, the sound and vibration of their footsteps faded away.
“They’re not attacking the base,” he murmured to the others. “At least, not yet. They were carrying pieces of debris.
“Debris?” Zac asked.
“Debris, as in they’re still digging,” Callahan said. “That means we’ve still got time.”
“The big question is how far they have gotten,” Kyle whispered. “The front of the tunnel can’t be too far ahead, not with that quick a turnaround.”
“Unless this was a different group,” Callahan pointed out. “There could be two shifts running, with some place up there that’s wide enough for them to pass each other.”
“But this doesn’t make any sense,” Zac objected. “How can Skynet be running Terminators with all the radio interference blanketing everything out there? Skynet uses shortwave to communicate with the machines, right?”
“I guess that means the interference
“Or the interference has been carefully designed so as to leave the right frequencies open,” Callahan said grimly. “That alone shows this plan’s been up and running for a while.”
“So what do we do?” Zac asked.
“Like Yarrow said, we get out of here and alert Connor,” Callahan told him. “Reese, could you see if the backpacks were still there?”
Kyle shook his head.
“The machines were in the way. I’ll try now.” Carefully, he again eased his head up through the hole.
Yarrow was lying on the tunnel floor, pressed up against the side wall as if he’d been shoved or kicked there. In the faint light coming through the conduit Kyle could see the bright red blood spreading out over the concrete.
Standing over the body, its metal skin shimmering in that same diffuse light, was a Terminator.
Instantly, Kyle ducked down again.
“Terminator,” he whispered urgently.
All three froze. Kyle strained his ears, trying to hear past the thudding of his heart. If the Terminator had seen him, it certainly wasn’t in a hurry to come and investigate.
Which, given that it
Callahan and Zac were staring at him, their expressions tense. Motioning them closer, Kyle leaned his lips close to their ears.
“It’s standing guard over Yarrow,” he whispered. “Right under the conduit.”
“But it didn’t spot you?” Callahan whispered back.
Kyle shook his head, playing back the memory of that quick glance. Now that he thought about it, he realized he hadn’t seen the glow of the machine’s eyes.
“It was facing the other direction.”
Callahan nodded, his lip twisted.
“Skynet’s not sure he was alone. But they don’t know who else, or how many, or which way. So it’s watching both directions for us to come back.”
“What do we do?” Zac asked.
Callahan huffed out a breath.
“If we can’t go back, the only other direction is forward,” he said.
“You mean go in
“Skynet’s trying to punch this tunnel into the camp, right?” Callahan said. “Then sooner or later, it has to open up the far end. If we can get up there, maybe we can find a way to crack it open ahead of them and get out.”
“We’re sure not using the tunnel with that T-700 back there,” Kyle warned.
“I know,” Callahan said. “That means we’ll have to go that way.” He pointed downward. “There’s empty space down there—you can feel the air flow. Maybe we can travel underneath the tunnel and find a way back up some place where the machine back there can’t see us.”
“And if we can’t?” Zac asked.
“Then we won’t be any worse off than we are now,” Kyle said. “I’m game.”
Zac sighed. “Me too.”
“Okay,” Callahan said. “Any idea how we get down there without bringing the whole metal nest down on top of us?”
“We could wait until the next group is marching by,” Zac suggested. “Their footsteps should cover any noise we make.”
Ten minutes later, as the Terminators again went marching back toward the front of the tunnel, the three of them slipped down the angled piles of debris into the darkness. Distantly, Kyle wondered what they would find down there.
Or whether any of Connor’s people would ever find them.
