idea of bait, a way of drawing them back into town. If the Theta was waiting for them to return along that same route, Preston was about to die.
But it could also be that Oxley had simply decided to get on with the task of slaughtering Baker’s Hollow’s civilians, figuring that he could deal with Preston whenever and wherever he chose to surface. In that case, Barnes’s plan for the three of them to hit the town from different directions was the right move. If one of them could spot Oxley and open fire, the others would know where he was.
Blair felt her throat tighten. No, not
He—
There were two more screams before Blair finished weaving her way through the outlying houses to the main part of town. A dozen people had spilled out of the buildings, a couple of them with guns, a few with bows, most neither. All of them were looking around nervously.
“Go!” Blair snapped at them. “Oxley’s a Theta—a Terminator that looks human. He’s already killed at least two people. If you don’t have a gun, get out of town right now and find a place to hide.”
“Look out!” someone shouted, jabbing a finger past Blair’s shoulder.
Blair spun around. Oxley had slipped out of the house directly behind her and was headed in her direction, his arms pumping as he ran, his hands flinging off droplets of bright red blood. His eyes were shining with maniacal energy, his lips curled back in a death’s-head smile in anticipation of his next kill.
Desperately, Blair tried to bring her Desert Eagle up and around. But Oxley was too close, and the heavy gun had too much inertia, and she knew she would never get it lined up in time.
She tried to get out of his way, to dodge clear of those bloodied hands. But she’d been caught flatfooted, and there was no time for that, either. She threw herself sideways toward the ground, still trying to get her gun lined up.
He was nearly on her when a stutter of rifle shots rang out, blowing off bits of cloth and skin from Oxley’s chest and face and bringing him to a sudden and surprised-looking halt.
And as a second volley staggered him a step backward, Blair finally got her Desert Eagle in line and fired point-blank up under his chin.
The force of the blow snapped Oxley’s head back and sent him tumbling onto his back. He hit the ground hard, throwing a spray of red mist from the gaping wound. The shot had disintegrated a fist-sized patch of skin, some of it coming off the chin, the rest coming off the throat, revealing the blood-dulled metal beneath it.
But it took more than that to stop a Theta. Oxley had barely slammed to the ground when he was starting to sit up again. His maniacal smile was gone now, replaced by an expression of cold fury.
But getting to his feet was suddenly proving difficult. The air filled with the sound of gunfire as more and more of the townspeople joined the battle. The rounds hammered relentlessly into Oxley’s body, the heavier slugs knocking him over, the lighter ones digging fresh wounds into his skin.
Blair pressed herself closer to the ground, not daring to try to get up through the fury of the attack. She squeezed off round after round, mostly targeting Oxley’s face, wondering distantly whether she would have time to get clear when all the guns thundering away out there ran dry.
It wasn’t an idle concern. What was left of Oxley’s skin was bleeding profusely, the multiple trickles soaking his clothing and the grass and leaves around him. But he had a Terminator’s single-minded doggedness, and even as the trappings of humanity were stripped away he was still struggling to get up and continue his mission. The volley slowed for a moment, and he managed to lurch to his knees. Behind the last scraps of forehead skin his glowing red eyes locked on to Blair.
Then, to her surprise, he fell onto his side and lay still.
And as the gunfire resumed its hammering at the bloodied metal body, she finally understood.
Lajard had told them that Theta organs were specially bioengineered to avoid rejection problems. She also knew from Kate Connor’s work on Marcus that Theta skin regenerated quickly. The Skynet scientists had undoubtedly also fiddled with the hybrids’ blood chemistry, giving it extra oxygen-carrying capacity and super-quick coagulation.
But there were limits to how fast even bioengineered blood could clot. No matter how fast Oxley’s broken veins and capillaries sealed themselves off, the sheer number of bleeders had finally taken their toll.
Skynet’s T-600s were slow and obvious, but they had to be physically destroyed before they could be stopped.
Skynet’s Thetas, the ultimate infiltration units, could simply bleed to death.
The barrage faltered, and as the noise faded away Blair could hear someone shouting for the remaining shooters to cease fire.
Eventually, they did.
“Williams?” Barnes called.
Blair looked back to see him and Preston hurrying toward her. Beside Preston, to Blair’s surprise and relief, was Preston’s daughter.
“I’m all right,” Blair called back as she got to her feet and went over to what was left of Oxley.
No movement of limbs or head. Blood still trickling from the wounds. No pulsing or even quivering from the carotid artery, partially visible behind the metal mesh shielding around the Theta’s neck.
“Well?” Barnes asked as the others came up beside her.
“It’s dead,” Blair confirmed, looking at Hope. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” the girl said, her voice shaking a little.
“Not from lack of trying on Valentine’s part,” Preston growled, looking apprehensively behind them. “Hope was able to get the drop on her and pin her to a tree with a couple of arrows.”
“Nice,” Barnes commented. “Not going to hold her long, though. You need to get these people out of here before she makes it back.”
“No argument there.” Preston beckoned to one of the women nearby. “Jessie, get everyone out of town, right now.”
“Where do we go?” Jessie asked.
“Head for the old Glaumann cabin,” Preston told her. “It’s as good a meeting place as any, and I don’t think Lajard or Valentine has ever been there.”
Jessie nodded. “What about you?”
Preston looked in the direction of the river. “Someone needs to go see what happened to the people who were with Jik,” he said. “That should probably be me.”
“I’ll go with you,” Barnes said. “Let me stop by Halverson’s first and get the minigun.”
“You still have ammo for it?” Preston asked.
Barnes nodded, patting the strap of his backpack.
“About thirty rounds. Should be enough to take down a Theta.”
Blair grimaced. That was true enough.
Unfortunately, there wasn’t just one Theta on the loose out there. There were two of them.
“You’ll need more than that,” she said. “I’ll get the Blackhawk. Where should I meet you?”
“How about the ford?” Preston suggested. “Jik has to come that way if he’s going to link up with Valentine.”
“Sounds good,” Barnes confirmed. “There should be room enough on the riverbank for you to put down to let me aboard.” He raised his eyebrows. “Unless you want me to go back to the chopper with you.”
Blair focused on Preston’s expression. He knew what he was going to find out there, all right. Not just a killer Terminator, but the bodies of his friends and neighbors.
“I’ll be fine,” she said.
“What about Susan?” Hope asked. “You’ll need a route to your helicopter that she doesn’t know about.”
“No,” Preston said flatly. “You’re going with Jessie and the others.”
“She’ll never find the snaky on her own,” Hope said, just as bluntly.
“What’s the snaky?” Blair asked.
“It’s a route through some of the thickest undergrowth in the area,” Hope told her. “We sometimes go there to hunt rabbits and quail. Susan and Lajard don’t know about it, and they probably couldn’t get through it even if
