Trial By Fire

“She’d have been here with us, but she went out hunting,” Oxley put in, a subtle edge to his voice as he turned back around to face the room. “She’s with Preston’s daughter Hope.”

“Though personally I don’t really care who you are,” Lajard added with a nonchalant shrug. “You’re trouble, and I’d be just as happy to see you get on that helicopter of yours and go away.”

An icy sensation settled onto Barnes’s back. So he and Williams had been right. This whole thing—this whole damn town—was nothing but a big Skynet test lab. Now that Jik was firmly established in his John Connor role, the scientists in charge of the lab rats were hoping to kick the two visiting troublemakers out of town so that they could get their little experiment back on track.

And just in case the troublemakers were tempted not to cooperate, Lajard had layered a bit of extra extortion to their demand: Hope, somewhere out in the woods, with an armed woman who Hope thought was her friend.

He looked at Williams. She’d gotten the message too, both parts of it, and Barnes could see the fire simmering behind her eyes.

But if Williams could occasionally get overemotional, she also wasn’t stupid. A quick flight back to San Francisco, a quick report to Connor, and they could be back here by dawn tomorrow with a full Resistance strike team. Whatever experiments Lajard and the others were planning, surely they wouldn’t be ready to close up shop before then. The best thing Barnes and Williams could do right now would be to confess that they were con artists, or mercenaries, or whatever it took to satisfy Preston, and get the hell out of here.

And then, before he or Williams could speak, the decision was snatched away from them.

“This’ll kill you,” Smith spoke up sardonically from the window. “They think Connor is one of these Theta Terminator things, and that all you have to do to prove it is wave a magnet at him. And they say that you—” he shot a glance over his shoulder at Oxley “—and you, and Valentine are running the show for Skynet.”

Lajard shook his head. “Now it’s gotten ridiculous,” he said.

“Probably,” Preston agreed. But his voice was thoughtful, and his eyes were steady on Barnes. “Easy enough for Connor to clear away any doubt, though. Maybe when he and the others get back we’ll go see if Chucker has a magnet stashed away in one of his junk drawers.”

“Well, if you want to play games with these lunatics, that’s up to you,” Lajard said. “Fortuna favet fortibus, as they say. Personally, I have better things to do.” Patting the top of Preston’s chair once, he headed toward the kitchen.

“Just a minute,” Preston said, standing up and turning to face Lajard, his hand dropping to the grip of his holstered gun. “What’s your hurry?”

And abruptly, Lajard’s measured pace became a flat-out run as he sprinted toward the kitchen and the door beyond.

“Kill them!” he shouted over his shoulder.

“Watch it!” Barnes snapped, leaping off the couch and grabbing the arms of the chair Preston had just vacated. “Smith, Trounce—behind you!”

He was too late. Standing behind the two thoroughly bewildered guards, Oxley reached up and caught each of the men just above their shirt collars.

And as Barnes heaved Preston’s chair off the floor, Oxley gave a quick double twist of his wrists and snapped both men’s necks.

Barnes swore viciously as he charged toward Oxley, his legs shoving hard against the floor, putting every bit of speed and power into his attack that he had. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a flurry of motion as Williams grabbed one of the wooden chairs near her, ran to the kitchen door, and hurled it at Lajard’s retreating back. There was a crash and a muffled curse, and Lajard was gone. In front of Barnes, Oxley let the two dead guards drop to the floor and reached for the rifle Trounce had dropped.

With the chair pressed to his chest like a combination shield and battering ram, Barnes slammed straight into him.

The impact threw Oxley backward, and for a stretched-out second the two men and the chair moved together toward the window, Oxley’s feet scraping across the floorboards, his arms trapped between the chair’s legs. He managed to get one hand free and reached around the side, trying to get to Barnes’s arm.

He was still trying when he and the chair went hurling backwards through the window.

Barnes nearly went through with them. He was scrabbling for balance when a hand grabbed his arm and yanked him back.

“Come on!” Preston snarled. Letting go of Barnes’s arm, he snatched up the two rifles from the floor, shoved one of them at Barnes, and sprinted across the room toward the kitchen.

Williams was already in there, looking cautiously out the open door.

“Clear,” she announced as Preston reached her. “What’s the plan?”

“Go to ground while we figure out what the hell is going on.” Preston handed his rifle to her. “Here.”

Williams shook her head.

“Keep it,” she said as she reached over and plucked her Desert Eagle from the holster around Preston’s waist. “I’ll take this.”

“Right,” Preston said, peering past her out the door. “Let’s go.”

“Wait a second,” Barnes said as he caught sight of his backpack lying on the floor beside the kitchen table. Grabbing the straps, he slung it over his shoulder and followed Williams and Preston outside into the late afternoon sunlight.

“This way,” Preston said, making a sharp left-hand turn toward the back of the house. They ran between two dilapidated houses, rounded a third, and finally came to a thick, chest-high hedge at the western border of a small garden. Preston ran them around to the other side and motioned for them to drop down behind it.

“Okay,” he panted. “We should have a minute. What the hell is going—?”

“No, we don’t have a minute,” Williams cut him off, throwing a quick look around her end of the hedge. “We missed a step, Barnes.”

“What step?” Barnes asked. “What did we miss?”

“In the Theta program,” she said. “You wouldn’t start by installing a complete, floor-to-ceiling false memory like Skynet did with Jik. You’d start by giving one of them a few little pieces of false memory. Patches that cover over any parts of genuine memory you don’t want him remembering.”

And then, Barnes got it.

“Like the memory of getting hauled out of your nice little Skynet lab and turned into a Terminator,” he snarled. “You’re right. Damn it.”

“What are you talking about?” Preston demanded.

“Oxley is like Jik—he’s a Theta,” Barnes told him. “He’s been in Baker’s Hollow as Skynet’s grand experiment to see if Thetas could mingle with normal people without being spotted.”

“It’s been ramping up this whole time,” Williams added. “First you see if people can tell there’s something wrong with your Theta, even if they can’t guess what that is. That was Oxley’s role. Then you tell them what Thetas are, and see if they can spot one. That’s what Jik’s doing.”

“Only now that we’ve crashed it, the party’s over,” Barnes said. “I’m guessing their next job will be to clean out the lab.”

“Wait a minute,” Preston said. “You said Oxley was a Theta. What about Lajard and Valentine?”

“Not Lajard,” Williams said. “He was genuinely hurt when I nailed him with that chair.”

“Valentine?”

Barnes saw Williams wince. “Probably.”

“Damn,” Preston breathed. “We’ve got to get to her—”

“Mayor?” Oxley’s distant voice came. “Mayor Preston? Come now, you’re being foolish. You can’t fight us, and there really isn’t anywhere to run. Come on out and take it like a man. I promise I’ll make it painless.”

“Don’t answer,” Williams whispered urgently.

Preston shot a look at her, his jaw muscles tight. But he kept silent.

“If you’d rather do it the hard way, that’s okay with me,” Oxley’s voice came again, possibly a bit closer this time. “We’ll just kill however we have to, painful or otherwise. Here’s an idea—we’ll start with your daughter.”

Watching his face Barnes saw the disbelief and horror were starting to fade away, and Preston was starting