Trial By Fire

jumped out and headed to the machines’ rat hole to see what else might be lurking down there.

And waiting behind them in the chopper, her face bright with relief, was Star. She raised her hand toward Kyle and the others and waved.

Kyle waved back... and as he did so, the tension of the day started to fade away, leaving only fatigue, hunger and thirst.

But that was all right. Because they’d made it through, and John Connor was safe.

And all was finally right with the world.

* * *

The area around Bear Commons wasn’t the best battlefield position Barnes had ever seen. Even so, there were a good half-dozen places in and around the clearing’s rim that should work well enough as defensible positions.

Skynet had other ideas. Barnes and Preston had just reached a big rock outcropping right at the edge of the clearing, when Preston spotted the broken T-700 dragging itself determinedly through the grass toward them. They stumbled from behind the rock to a wide tree trunk, only to have the Terminator change direction and again launch itself into a slow-motion charge.

Three moves later, the damn thing was still chasing them.

It would be easy enough to simply blow the machine back into its component parts and be done with it. Barnes had no doubt that Skynet was hoping he would do exactly that.

But Barnes knew better than to give in to that temptation. They had Barnes’s rifle and the Terminator G11, with only around forty-five rounds left between the two weapons. Barnes had no intention of spending any more of them on a T-700 that was already half broken and of no serious threat. Not with Jik still skulking around somewhere out there in the woods.

Barnes frowned into the gathering darkness. Back when they were by the wrecked cabin and had been distracted by the T-700’s attempted sneak attack, Jik had tried one of his own, running toward them across the clearing. He’d backed off when his ploy failed, but the fact remained that Skynet had sent him into enemy fire without hesitation.

And why not? He was a Theta, very tough, very hard to kill. He’d already taken on Halverson’s hunting force, after all, and killed all of them.

So why was he still hanging back instead of going on the offensive? Had Skynet actually calculated that Barnes could take him out with forty-five rounds before he could kill the two of them?

Or could something have happened that had suddenly made Jik’s survival more important than it had been earlier?

That question was obviously on Preston’s mind, too.

“You think he went back to where he killed everyone to look for a better weapon?” he murmured.

Barnes shook his head. “If there’d been any working guns back there, he would already have them.”

“What about bows?” Preston countered. “Maybe he went back to get one of those.”

Barnes grimaced. That one hadn’t even occurred to him.

“Yeah, good point,” Barnes grunted. “Well, whatever he’s got, my guess is that he’s waiting for full dark. You’re the expert hunter—how close could he get to us without us hearing him?”

“Probably not too close,” Preston said. “But if he’s got a bow and some arrows, he can probably get close enough.”

And then, faintly in the distance, Barnes heard a familiar sound.

“We may not have to find out the hard way,” he said. “Hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“That,” Barnes said, nodding his head to the southeast and the sound of a Blackhawk’s rotors. “That’s Williams in our chopper.”

“It may be your chopper,” Preston said ominously. “But that doesn’t necessarily mean Williams is the one flying it.”

Barnes scowled, a flicker of doubt darkening his new confidence. Could Preston be right? Could that be Lajard and Valentine in there, coming in to pick up Jik and head off on whatever new killing spree Skynet had planned?

The moment passed. Williams had gone to get the chopper, and she was better than that.

“Don’t worry, it’s her,” he assured Preston, looking upward at the camouflage canopy. It had been starting to open before the H-K wrecked the cabin, but it was still mostly in place above the clearing. “The big question is whether she’s going to be able to find us.”

“Yes,” Preston said thoughtfully. “You suppose that thing’s flammable?”

“No idea.”

“Let’s find out. You still have any of that aviation fuel on your boots?”

Barnes reached down and touched his boot.

“Maybe a little.”

“Give me a piece,” Preston ordered, slipping the bow he’d taken from Halverson off his shoulder.

Barnes pulled out his knife.

“How big?”

“The biggest you can get without cutting off any toes.”

Barnes nodded and set to work. A few seconds later, he had freed most of the upper toe section.

“Got it.”

“Stick it on here.” Preston handed Barnes one of his arrows and dug into his pocket. “Run it down to just below the arrowhead.”

Barnes did so. Preston took the arrow back and handed him a small object.

“My lighter,” he identified it as he set the arrow into the bowstring and drew it back until the wet leather was almost touching the fingers of his bow hand. “Gasoline fueled, so watch out for your fingers.”

Barnes wasn’t expecting much of the aviation fuel to still be left in the leather. He was wrong. At the first touch of the lighter’s fire the piece of leather blazed into bright blue-yellow flame.

Preston angled the bow upward.

“I’ve always wanted to do this,” he murmured, and let it fly.

The arrow shot up, tracing a flaming arc up toward the camo netting. It hit, jamming itself into the mesh.

For a long moment nothing happened. The fire smoldered and faltered, looking on the verge of going out. Then the fire began to gain new life. It caught, brightened—

And abruptly roared back to life, burning and spreading across the net. A minute later, the whole circle was ablaze, the flickering flames lighting up the clearing below.

“Perfect,” Barnes said, picking up the G11 and returning his attention to the forest around them. “If she doesn’t see that, she’s gone blind and stupid.”

“Now what?” Preston asked.

“We wait for her to get here,” Barnes said grimly. “And we expect Skynet to make one last shot at taking us down before she does.”

Blair had the Blackhawk in the air when she spotted the first glimmer of light amid the forest gloom. Frowning, she started to turn to Halverson, strapped in at the portside M240, to ask what it might be.

And then, abruptly, the glow flared and spread out. By the time the Blackhawk reached the river, it had become a complete circle of blazing fire.

“That’s the place!” she heard Halverson shout over the wind buffeting her through the broken windshield. “That’s Bear Commons.”

Mentally, Blair threw Barnes a salute. “Get ready!” she shouted. “Hope?”

“I’m ready,” the girl at the starboard gun called.

Blair pitched the Blackhawk forward, sending the aircraft racing toward the circle of flame. Hope might say she was ready, but Blair knew better. She’d seen the look on the girl’s face after what had happened with Valentine and Lajard, and she was anything but ready to do that again.

Blair could hardly blame her. Shooting red-eyed metal Terminators was one thing. Shooting Terminators with human faces looking back at you was something else entirely.