DISCLAIMER:
All the characters from the
"Magnificent Seven" TV series are property of Trilogy Entertainment,
The Mirisch Group, MGM Worldwide. The same goes for all characters from Time
Trax, which belong to Gary Nardino Productions Inc and Lorimar Television. All
characters and situations from Terminator and Terminator 2: Judgement Day are
the property of Carolco Pictures and Corolco International.
CONVERGENCE
Part Four
The Hour of the Wolf
Nathan Jackson felt aches and pain in places he
had forgotten he had, but was grateful that he was not seriously harmed.
Crawling through the debris of shattered glass and broken furniture, he gave
little consideration to anything around him except the fact that, for the
moment at least, the crisis had passed. The stranger who had dispatched them
all like children lay on the floor not far from him. The healer felt a shudder
of fear as he moved gingerly past the unmoving form; painfully aware that they
had no idea whether he was dead or alive at this point. Nathan quelled his fear
as he continued towards Ezra, who was lying deathly still not far from him.
Ezra had taken the worst brunt of the enemy’s
attack. Nathan could not help feeling a tinge of admiration for the gambler in
his determination to protect Chris at any cost. Considering that his
relationship with Chris Larabee had been strained from the very beginning, it
made his sacrifice all the more noble. However, Ezra had stood firm, protecting
Chris by offering himself as a distraction to the stranger even at the obvious
danger his life. Nathan reached Ezra, whose breath was little more than a wet
croaking sound. The purple skin around his neck left clear indications of the
hand that had almost snapped his neck.
"Ezra." Nathan lowered his head and
listened to his breathing. "Ezra, can you hear me?"
There was no response.
The healer felt for a pulse and immediately
noticed the swelling around his neck. Nathan had a vague idea what was wrong
with him, and was quite certain that his trachea was broken, but he had never
been called on to perform this kind of operation before and knew time was
against him. Ezra’s skin was almost pasty because less and less oxygen was
reaching his brain, fighting to seep through the intense swelling that was
obstructing his air passages. It would not be long before he was incapable of
breathing at all.
"I need help here!" Nathan called out.
At that moment, Vin Tanner made his appearance
through the saloon door. The tracker, like the rest of
"What the hell happened here?" Vin asked
upon reaching Nathan who was yanking the neck of Ezra’s collared shirt apart.
"I’ll tell you on the way!" Nathan
exclaimed as he gestured at Vin to help him with Ezra. "If we don’t get
him to Miss Styles, he’s going to die!"
Vin did not doubt it if Ezra’s color was anything
to go by. The gambler was not only out cold, but the low rumble coming from his
throat was actually his unconscious attempts to breathe. Blood was bubbling
from his lips in a light froth, and Vin saw the evidence of a powerful grip
around his throat that indicated someone had almost strangled him to death.
Suddenly the memory of what almost happened to him out on the plains returned
to Vin in terrifying clarity.
"Can you help him?" Vin asked as they
heaved Ezra to his feet.
"This needs surgery." Nathan said
quickly as they started forward when suddenly Chris Larabee made himself heard.
"Nathan," he came forward and for the
first time, Vin and Nathan became aware of the man standing besides him. They
had believed it was Buck but now they realized Buck was actually on the other
end of the room, pulling debris off Josiah in an effort to rouse the preacher.
"What the hell…" Vin started to say but
Chris cut him off before any one could speak or comment on
"Never mind that," Chris said abruptly,
his gaze never leaving the gambler’s face. Chris too was remembering how Ezra
had tried to protect him, and the idea that it might cost Ezra his life made
Chris sick to his stomach. "Nathan, put Ezra in a wagon and go get Alex to
help if he needs it. We’re leaving."
"Leaving!" Vin exclaimed. "You’re
not telling me we’re running from the bastards who did this!"
Vin saw Chris’ eyes harden, as if he disliked that
fact more than anyone else, but he kept his distaste hidden and repeated
himself. "I’m telling you that after what we saw, we need to get the hell
out of here before he wakes up. I’ll explain better when we’re on the
way."
"On the way where?" Nathan demanded,
wondering if Chris understood just how serious Ezra’s condition was. "I
don’t think this is such a good idea. Ezra needs surgery immediately."
"JUST DO IT!" Chris said with such venom
in his voice that Nathan fell silent immediately.
The stranger wearing Buck’s face stepped forward,
trying to offer something in the way of an explanation as to why it was
necessary for them to leave in such a hurry. "Look, I know this is strange
but you have to trust me. You don’t want to be around when that thing wakes up.
It’s identified you all as secondary targets now, so that it means it will come
after you all if it cannot get to Chris. You all have to leave, right now, or
there’s going to be a hell of a lot more blood."
Vin saw the direction in which Darien was staring
and finally caught sight of the figure lying on the floor. His stomach hollowed
at the realization it was the same person who had attacked him only yesterday.
However, his face was barely recognizable under the barrage of bullet wounds
and the shotgun blast that marred his features to almost pulp. Vin thought he
might retch at the sight of him. All such notions were driven away when Vin
caught a glimpse of the slick, wet metal beneath the skin and felt his heart
constrict in his throat. Suddenly, he began to understand the need for urgency.
"Okay," Vin nodded, somewhat dazed at
what he was seeing of the enemy on the floor. His mind was still struggling to
grapple with the impossibility of it all, but his conditioning to obey Chris’
orders kept him centered on the moment. "Nathan and me will get the Doc
and Ezra loaded up. We’ll wait for you outside Mrs. Travis’ office."
"No." Chris shook his head, discarding
that idea immediately. "You take the Doc and Ezra and keep going. Don’t
stop until you get to Nettie Wells’ place. We’ll rendezvous with you
there."
Vin and Nathan exchanged glances before Vin
nodded. "Good luck" he replied, and the two men hurried out of the
saloon.
*******
Chris Larabee had trouble believing that any of
this was happening.
Even when Darien Lambert told him that what they
had faced was a machine, and that it was specifically ordered to kill him, the
unreality of the situation was difficult to swallow. Yet, he knew what he had
seen. They had put almost fifty bullets into the stranger and it had still been
standing until Darien’s timely intervention. He had no doubt that that he would
be dead if not for the mysterious arrival of Darien Lambert, who somehow
resembled Buck so closely that it was almost unnerving to look at him. However,
it was a face that Chris trusted with very few exceptions, and instinct told
him that it was imperative that he trust this man now, even if Darien had
failed to tell him why this thing was trying to kill him.
After Vin and Nathan left with Ezra, Chris turned
on his heel towards Buck and Josiah. Buck was trying to rouse Josiah after his
encounter with the machine that had almost killed all of them. Chris remembered
how easily it had tossed aside the big man, and hoped that he was not in the
same condition as Ezra, who Chris knew even without being told, was hurt very
badly. A part of him had trouble believing that the gambler had risked
everything for him, and to his shame, he never though Ezra would put himself on
the line like that when Chris still viewed him with suspicion. Chris hoped he
would have the opportunity to express his gratitude to Ezra in person.
"Come on," he ordered Darien with every
expectation of being followed as he strode towards Buck. Chris had absolutely
no idea how Buck Wilmington was going to react to seeing Darien Lambert for the
first time, but at the moment preserving anyone’s sensibilities was a minor
consideration. . If Darien was right, they had a little under an hour to get
out of town before the machine woke up again and resumed its hunt.
"Buck, how is he?" Chris asked as he
reached them.
"I’m fine." Josiah grumbled as he sat up
shakily, answering for himself. The preacher seemed unhurt, although scratches
and cuts marred his face. Josiah shook the disorientation out of his head and
thought he might be okay until he noticed Darien behind Chris. "Maybe I
hit my head harder than I thought."
"No, you’re fine." Chris said abruptly,
noticing the expression on Buck’s face as he cast his eyes on Darien.
"Buck, Josiah, this is Darien Lambert. He just saved all our lives so we
can trust him. Unfortunately, we ain’t got the time to get acquainted because
we’ve got to get moving. That thing," he gestured to the machine that was
shaped in a man’s skin, "is not staying like that permanently. It will be
awake soon so we’ve got to get out of here before that happens."
Buck could not speak. He was too astonished by
Darien Lambert who was staring back at him with his own familiar features. It
was like staring at a mirror, and Buck felt his throat become dry as words
escaped him for once in his life. The stranger’s resemblance to him was not
merely close but identical. Buck felt his heart pounding with something
that was akin to fascination and pure shock.
Darien had to admit that he could understand the
disturbance he saw in Buck Wilmington’s eyes at the resemblance between them.
He finally understood why so many people had confused him for the man. They
were almost like twins. "You’re Buck Wilmington." Darien found
himself saying, feeling uncomfortable all around by the awkward silence that
followed Buck’s open astonishment.
"I don’t believe it…." Buck said almost
dazed. "What happened to my moustache?"
"I haven’t had one since I was twenty."
Darien responded before looking at Chris, wishing to leave this subject behind
for the moment. "This is all very interesting, but we need to get going, now."
He stressed on the final word. Thanks to Buck’s infamous reputation around
town, Darien had been better prepared for this meeting, and thus recovered
faster, while Buck was plunged into it without warning. Darien could almost
empathize with his shock and made a mental note to discuss the issue with the
man when they were not so pressed for time. "We don’t have a lot of time
before it re-routes its circuits and bypasses the short."
None of what Darien said made any sense to the
three men, but the urgency in his voice was not lost upon any of them, and that
transcended the need to explain what he had said. Like Chris, Buck and Josiah
were certain of what they had seen earlier and could attest to the fact that
they were out of their depth in fighting it. If a strategic withdrawal was
necessary to combat it when they were ready, then there was no question of what
their next move would be. "Josiah are you in any condition to ride?"
Chris asked the preacher.
"I’m okay," Josiah massaged his injured
shoulder with one hand. "Where are we going?"
"As far away from that thing as
possible." Chris retorted, forcing himself to avoid looking at the machine
as he spoke. "Buck, I need you to get Mary’s wagon ready to ride and meet
me at the front of her house when you’re done."
"What about JD?" Buck exclaimed,
realizing that no one had thought of the boy. Buck had not seen JD since this
morning and the fact the he was not here immediately sent waves of panic that
something might have happened to the young man. Buck was not making one move
out of town until he knew the youngster was alive and well.
"He’s with Mary." Darien spoke up,
allaying that particular fear. "I ran into him earlier today" Darien
explained seeing the genuine concern for JD’s welfare in Buck’s eyes. He
wondered if JD engendered the same feeling in the other six men as well.
"He thought I was you and that’s how I learnt where Chris would be."
Buck still found it difficult to regard Darien,
and had a thousand questions to ask the man, but for now they could wait. He
knew JD was safe and that was all that mattered. If Chris said that Darien had
saved their lives, then Buck would trust him, no matter how disconcerting it
was to look at him. "I’m on it." Buck nodded, remembering Chris’
earlier request. "Josiah, if you’re up to it, I could use your help."
"Just don’t ask me to fight Jasper Cray for
you." Josiah winced as he flexed his arm and felt a muscle pinch as he
moved.
"Is it safe to come out?" The men were
suddenly distracted by a decidedly feminine voice behind the bar counter.
Glancing towards the bar counter riddled in bullets and covered in the
shattered glass fragments form a dozen bottles, they heard a movement behind
it.
Inez had taken cover behind the bar when the
shooting had started and remained hidden during the carnage that had ensued.
She had remained crouched beneath the shelving as a continuous spray of glass,
wood, alcohol and plaster began to cover the floor inches from her. Inez had no
idea what was happening above her but the noise had kept her frozen in place.
She had listened closely, feeling her heart constrict when she had heard the
fear in Buck’s voice and knew whatever they were facing was terrible indeed.
Her own terror had kept her cowering in silence even though she secretly prayed
that he did not get hurt, no matter how richly he might deserve it after his
behavior with Mrs. Cray.
"Inez!" She saw Buck leap onto the floor
behind the counter in frantic search of her. His boots crushed the debris
underfoot and he wasted no time searching for her beneath the counter. When he
discovered her safe and sound, Inez saw his eyes flood with relief. She
scrambled out from her hiding place and they both met in a warm embrace that
Inez savored because he was alive and well. At this moment, she was ready to
forgive him for his indiscretion with Virginia Cray. Well, almost anyway.
"Are you okay honey?" he asked, full of
concern once they had parted. His eyes moved over her form, not believing that
she was unhurt until he saw it for himself.
"I’m fine." she said breathlessly and
then noticed the state of the saloon. Her eyes moved across the room, surveying
the damage with almost painful realization. The saloon had been her
responsibility more than Ezra’s, and seeing it like this almost brought tears
to her eyes. "What happened?" She whispered, trying not to let the
emotion reach her eyes, as she saw it’s the destruction. The saloon was not the
most glamorous place in the world, but to her it had offered opportunities and
a chance of a new life. Perhaps it was just a feminine reaction, but she had
grown very fond of it.
"I’m not going without Inez." Buck said
firmly to Chris and the others.
Inez looked up in question at why her fate was being discussed without so much
as a word to her personally, when she saw the man standing next to Chris. Her
brown eyes widened in shock as he offered a little smile, which only made Inez
turn back to Buck. For a few seconds, her eyes moved back and forth as if
continued observation would prove this to be some hoax they were playing on
her, the alternative was too shocking to believe. How could there were two of
them? Her mind struggled to understand how this could be and soon it decided it
could not.
Then, Inez fainted.
Buck caught her before she slumped to the ground,
rolling his eyes in exasperation before looking up at Darien. "You can
explain it to both of us later." He said sweeping the woman in his arms as
they all vacated the premises.
*******
It required every ounce of will she possessed to
keep Mary Travis from running out of her house to investigate when the first
sounds of gunfire had erupted shortly after Darien Lambert had left her and JD.
However, each time she had made a move towards the door, JD had been there to
remind her that if the situation was as bad as it sounded out there, Mary’s
intrusion into it would be more of a liability than an asset. Despite herself,
Mary knew that JD was right. Entering the fray would endanger Chris’ life
because he would ignore his own safety to protect her.
Thus she remained in the house, trying not to
worry about Chris, especially now with his child slumbering inside of her, of
which he knew nothing. It was the idea of him dying without ever knowing that
frightened Mary most of all. She sat the kitchen table, putting on a brave face
while making JD another cup of coffee, knowing that he wanted to be at the
saloon almost as badly as she did. Extraordinary things were taking place at
this moment without either of them being present, and to a certain extent she
could almost sympathize with his desire to be apart of it.
To his credit however, JD remained where he was,
fighting the urges because Darien Lambert had charged him to protect her, and
the boy worshipped Chris Larabee too much for him allow anything to happen to
the woman Chris loved. He sat at the table with her; hands poised to go for his
gun at a moment’s notice if necessary in his vow defend her. She knew he would
too, this young sheriff who wanted so badly to be accepted, and more
importantly, be the man he always dreamed of becoming.
"I’m sure they’re okay." JD said confidently after the firing had
ceased and the silence that followed had became more disturbing than the
gunfire before.
Mary merely nodded, keeping her anxieties from
overwhelming her sense of reason. She knew she was riding precariously on a
wave of emotion, partly induced by her current physical state, and sought hard
to control it. Despite his attempt to be strong, Mary could see the same
worries in JD’s eyes for the friends that might be at the saloon. After what
they had seen and heard in the presence of Darien Lambert, it was undeniable
that things were transpiring that were far from normal.
Suddenly the front door swung open and Mary was on
her feet, running down the hall to see who had returned before JD could even
think to stop her.
"Mary!" Chris called out and met her in
the hallway, catching her in his arms as they embraced each other hard from the
sheer relief of seeing one another. He kissed her passionately, reveling in the
momentary joy of being able to do so at all after what he had just been through.
"I was so worried" she said swallowing
hard. "After Darien said that you might be in danger, I didn’t know what
to think!" Mary knew she was rambling but she did not care. She was so
happy to see him at this moment that nothing else mattered.
"I’m okay," he stepped away, reassuring
Mary that he was alright because the fear he saw in her eyes demanded it.
"Mary, we don’t have much time. Get some things together, we’re
leaving."
Mary looked at him in shock before she found her
voice. "Leaving, why?"
"I don’t have time to explain it to
you," he said drawing away from her as he strode toward her office.
"Just pack some things because we’re going as soon as Buck gets here with
the wagon."
"But…" Mary opened her mouth to speak
when Chris paused in his tracks and met her gaze with that sharp piercing look
of his that froze the sound in her throat. It was rare that he exerted himself
upon her so potently, but the message conveyed was clear enough for her to know
exactly what he meant. "You’ll get no argument from me." She said
backtracking to the stairs leading to the upper floor of the house. "Going
up right now."
"Thank you." He said sarcastically and
shook his head as he continued into her office thinking; God save me from
strong willed women.
"JD, get out here!" Chris called out as
he searched through the small room and located the shotgun Mary kept in her
office. It sat in a corner, safely hidden by a filing cabinet. The weapon was
formidable to say the least, and was similar in make and model to the one he
had used on the machine, or the Terminator, as Darien had called it.
"You’re alright." JD said with visible
relief as he and Darien appeared in the doorway at the same time. Darien
ruffled his hair and Chris wondered just how much alike he and Buck really
were.
"I’m in better shape than Ezra and Josiah
anyway." Chris half smiled, seeing the obvious concern in the youngster’s
face. "Get your horse and find something for Darien to ride. We’re moving
out as soon as Buck gets here."
"What’s happening, Chris?" JD asked,
unable to hide his anxiousness even though the most immediate questions
regarding the welfare of his friends had been answered. However, it was a trait
that Chris had seen a thousand times before. JD was young, and like all the
young was always filled with questions, which Chris had no patience to answer
right now.
"Not now, JD," Chris said, searching
through Mary’s desk and finding the drawer were she kept the shells for the
gun. He loaded the weapon and snapped it shut with a sharp flick of his wrist
when he was done. "Get going!" He barked at the young man, forcing JD
to nod mutely before hurrying out.
"What will happen when it wakes up?"
Chris asked Darien now that they were alone.
"I don’t know." Darien said honestly.
"I’ve never encountered one of these things before. I know what I know
only because someone else told me. However, I can tell you how its mind works.
The moment it wakes up and finds you gone, it will start narrowing the
possibilities of where you might go."
Chris absorbed the information quietly. Darien
knew Chris needed to know why this was happening, but so far had kept himself
from asking until a more opportune moment presented itself. There had been
little time to know the man in any depth, but Darien was starting to get a good
sense about Chris Larabee. If John Connor was to become the great man he was
destined to be, then Darien could well understand from where that substance had
come. Darien could see the presence Chris commanded over the others, the sheer
force of personality that made everyone look to him for guidance. A man like
this could be anything he wanted to be, so why was he nothing more than a
gunslinger?
Mary’s footsteps down the stairs prompted them
both to return their attention to the task at hand as she descended carrying a
carpetbag and wearing a riding cloak for the journey ahead. Chris handed Darien
the shotgun as he walked past and went to meet her. "That it?" He
looked at the single bag she was carrying.
"I didn’t know how long we were going."
Mary replied, looking into his eyes so that she could see an answer, even if he
did not tell. Mary had never known Chris to run from anything and the fact that
they were leaving now frightened her beyond reason. She looked to his eyes for
some reassurance and saw none.
Chris met Darien’s gaze and sighed. "Neither
do I."
********
Alexandra Styles lifted her skirts and ran out of
the house she had bought only a month ago, upon hearing the first eruption of
gunfire. Even after such a brief stay in this municipality, she had come to
learn one thing. There was seldom any trouble in this town that did not involve
the seven men charged to defend it. Whether they were the cause or the cure of
it was hardly a point worth considering. There was the inevitability of finding
at least one of them in the thick of the violence, trying to end the threat and
make this frontier town into some semblance of a civilized community.
She paused at the end of the street, hearing the
roar of gunshots in the air, firing away in rapid succession while each thunder
of sound promised the unseen danger inside the saloon walls. Fighting the urge
to see what was happening was almost tearing her to pieces, but she knew she
had to remind outside the glass walls of danger’s prison. There was no place for
her within, and nothing she could do that would not make her more of a
hindrance than any help to them in this situation. Alex knew why she was
afraid, but knowing it and being able to anything about it were two entirely
different things. Her mind was filled with the possibilities of his dying and
it was something that was still difficult, no matter how much she told herself
that it was a part of whom he was.
Alex sought solace in the declarations Ezra
Standish had made on numerous occasions that he was nothing more than a
businessman with no wish to be a hero. The belief that he remained in Four
Corners because it suited his purposes to remain with the six and create an
environment in which his business could thrive was a facade to convince
everyone that he was still the same scoundrel.
Except she knew better.
It was more than just a place to him, and the
seven was more than just a group he rode with. They were his friends, and she
was starting to believe they were first real friends he had ever made in his
life, who knew him for what he was, warts and all. Alex understood this all too
well, for since the very moment she had met him, Alex had recognized a kindred
spirit in the mutual need to belong somewhere. Both of them had spent their
lives moving from place to place, never forming attachments until the faces of
the past were a such a blur that neither could tell where one began and one
ended. He would stand up and fight with the six men because they were his
friends, and although they may not believe it at times, he had it in him to die
for them.
She prayed it would not come to that some day.
When the gunfire had stopped abruptly and the
sounds of fighting had ended, she saw Vin Tanner running through the darkened
streets and was almost tempted to follow him. However, she kept a firm
restraint on herself, knowing the tracker would not appreciate her intrusion.
Deep inside, Alex knew she did not want to follow him inside because she could
not bear to face it if her worst nightmares were realized. A chill had run down
her spine in the wake of the silence that followed and it blew an ill wind of
foreboding that left Alex terrified. Through the exodus of patrons who had
escaped the carnage returning to their homes after emerging from their hiding
places, Alex held her breath waiting for the seven to appear. Even one of them
would do at this moment, just so she could be rid of this terrible fear and
learn finally if Ezra was all right or not.
Thus she remained where she was, both sides of her
complex inner self fighting for dominance. The part of Alexandra Styles who
cared for Ezra Standish would not be satisfied unless she could run into the
saloon and see for herself if he was unharmed. However, when she saw Nathan and
Vin appear through the doors carrying Ezra in between them, the sight of him
banished that vulnerable part of her immediately. The stronger part of her that
was able to endure four years of medical school through unimaginable
prejudices, who had sailed an ocean alone and who could cut and sew skin and
bone as effortlessly as some women stitched cloth, was running even before she
was aware her feet were moving.
"Miss Styles!" Nathan exclaimed in
surprise as she appeared before them in the street, breathing hard like she had
run all the way here. Nathan guessed that she probably heard the commotion and
had come to see if she could help. He was unhappy that she was correct in that
assumption. Ezra needed help, and Nathan was not sure he was able to rise to
the occasion. The gambler was still unconscious and had been so since that
monstrous thing inside had almost strangled the life out of him.
"How bad is he?" Alex asked going
straight for Ezra who was hanging limply from Nathan and Vin’s grip. She tried
to remain detached, reminding herself that she was no good to him if she gave
in to her emotions or her fears for his life. Now, more than ever, she had to
be completely focused on how she would save his life.
"I think his windpipe is crushed."
Nathan informed her as they continued forward. Alex kept in step with them,
making a hasty examination as they continued on the move.
She checked his pupils and examined the dilation
in his eyes because it was the fastest and most accurate way of confirming
Nathan’s diagnosis. His breathing was extremely shallow and Alex realized that
Ezra was very close to suffocating if his pupil dilation was any indication.
The bruises on his neck were extremely prolific and she prayed that it looked
worse than it was. At the moment, she did not want to consider the possible trauma
to his spinal chord.
"I need to open him up, now" she stated,
trying to maintain an even voice but not quite succeeding. Ezra meant too much
to her for that to be entirely possible. "He’s suffocating."
"We need to keep moving." Vin reminded
Nathan of Chris’ orders to them. "You got a wagon?" he asked Alex.
"Yes." She nodded, not understanding the importance of the question.
"Why?"
"Where is it?" He demanded not wishing
to waste any time on questions he could answer later. After what he had seen
inside the saloon and Chris’ warning of the impeding danger, Vin had no wish to
be around when that thing finally made its awakening.
"At the livery." Alex answered.
"Look, I need you to get Ezra up to the clinic. His trachea may be broken.
It is causing swelling to a point where he will no longer be able to fit air
down his throat. He’s getting less and less oxygen to his brain, eventually
he’ll get none and when that happens he will die." She stressed the full implications
so they would understand. Nathan she was confident could grasp the urgency of
the matter but Vin was another thing entirely.
"Go get your doctoring bag and anything else
you might need and meet us there. We’re moving out." Vin said firmly, sounding
as if he had not heard a word she had said. In truth, he was perfectly aware of
the danger, but at this moment the danger did not confine itself to just Ezra’s
injuries.
"Moving out?" She exclaimed staring at
him in shock, wondering if he was utterly stupid or just plain ignorant enough
to not give a damn about what she was saying. "I don’t think you
understand, if I don’t operate on him soon he will die."
"No you don’t understand!" Vin snapped
at her, tired of this argument and glared at her sharply "Whoever did this
to us is still out there, and if we don’t get moving, operating on him is going
to be the least of our problems. Now get going!" Vin ordered with such
force in his voice that Nathan was almost surprised by his manner. Vin’s temper
seemed to be extremely short these days and that was surprising. Anything or
anyone rarely bothered him. Nathan decided to speak to the tracker about it
later.
Alex struggled to obey because none of this made
any sense. Clinical detachment, she reminded herself, fighting off the urge to
react to Vin’s abrasive manner. If he was right about the peril they were in,
then she was delaying every moment she stood here speaking to him. Taking a
deep breath, she looked to Nathan to confirm if Vin was telling her the truth,
so she would know what to do.
"Please Miss Styles," Nathan said seeing
the conflict in her eyes. "Vin’s right, we don’t have a lot of time."
There were very few people Alex considered close confidants in this town, and
Nathan knew he was one of them. If he said so, she would believe him.
"I’m going" she agreed, meeting Vin’s eyes with a look of tempestuous
defiance she could not express because the situation did not allow her to do
so. "You know which one’s my horse," Alex said abruptly as she drew away
from them and starting retreating up the street towards home. As Nathan and Vin
approached the livery, they saw her break into a run and disappear in the
darkness of the night.
*********
Alex believed she had never been able to move so
fast in her life. She burst through the door of her house and quickly gathered
all the things she would need. There was no question of her not going with them
on their flight from whatever was in pursuit. Ezra needed care, and as much as
she believed in Nathan, he was not just a healer, he was one of the seven. He
might be needed to defend the group, and she was needed to put them back
together once it was over.
Alex stuffed some clothing in a bag before running
out of her house, her personal items in one hand while her doctor’s bag was
clutched firmly in the other. Hopefully, she had not been remiss in anything,
but there was no time to double check. As it was, she had managed to pack
little more than two or three day’s worth of clothing before deciding she had
wasted enough minutes on the endeavor. She had seen the extent of Ezra’s
injuries and knew what was coming if she did not reach him soon.
She had not run like this since she was a girl,
and by the time she reached the livery where the two men had saddled her mare Calliope
to her wagon, she was panting hard, trying to catch her breath while forcing
herself to move at the same pace. Both Vin and Nathan were in the back of the
wagon with Ezra, and when she approached, she saw Vin look up at her in panic.
Nathan was more vocal than that and called out to her as soon as she was near
enough to hear.
"Miss Styles, quickly!"
Alex almost jumped into the wagon and Vin caught
her waist and lifted her the rest of way into the wagon with one sharp pull. As
she stepped onto the wooden buckboard, she could hear the wheezing sounds of
Ezra starting to suffocate and understood immediately why the two men had been
so agitated. Alex thanked God she had not delayed in arriving because she knew
this was the moment of which she had been afraid. From the moment of first
examination, she knew this was going to happen. Dropping to her knees, Alex
scrambled to his side and saw that Nathan had pulled open his collar, exposing
his throat. His shirt and waistcoat were unbuttoned and Alex noted that his
chest was heaving violently in his lungs’ desperation for air.
"I’ll get us moving." Vin replied,
feeling the need to do something because he was of no help to Ezra and would
only get in Alex and Nathan’s way by remaining. They had to get to Nettie
Wells’ where it was safe and Ezra could get the rest he needed. Vin had to do
that much for Ezra at least.
"He’s choking." Alex said in an
announcement that was of no surprise to anyone. She fumbled for her bag and
removed a thick metal flask. The flask was not unlike one that some men carried
to keep their liquor. She unscrewed the lid and poured the clear solution onto
Ezra’s bruised throat. The liquid started to evaporate almost immediately upon
contact with Ezra’s skin.
As the wagon started moving out of the livery
compound through the heart of town in its journey to leave it behind, Nathan
could smell the acrid smell of pure alcohol. Ezra’s face was starting to turn
blue now, adding to the anxiety of those who were trying to help him. His
attempts to breathe were quickly descending into a desperate struggle to force
air through his lungs. It was a battle he was not winning
"Hold him." Alex said firmly and Nathan
had to admire how cool she was under such intense pressure. She made no secret
about her feelings for Ezra and Nathan knew how difficult this must be for her.
He did not know what he would do if he ever found himself in a similar position
with Rain in Ezra’s position, and then after a moment, realized he would do the
exact same thing that Alex was doing now.
Grit his teeth and do what was needed because it
had to be done.
Alex soaked the scalpel she had retrieved from her
medical bag with the alcohol in order to sterilize the instrument. At the
moment, they were riding out in the open with dust and God knew what else in
the air, and it was the least she could do ensure some measure of sterility.
"I don’t have time to give anything for the pain." Alex said trying
not to feel any discomfort about that statement without any success.
"Okay Miss Styles, I got him." Nathan
nodded, knowing what was coming. His hands were pressed firmly against Ezra’s
head and shoulders because when she began to cut, Ezra would feel it no matter
how disorientated he might be at the moment. It was bad enough that the wagon
was rumbling forward when she needed it to be stationery without Ezra
struggling the second he experienced the pain. Alex needed to work unimpeded
because Ezra could not wait. She wanted to begin while the lights of the town
were offering her the illumination to work.
Alex took a deep breath and then pressed the
scalpel against Ezra’s throat.
Vin Tanner turned around sharply at the sound of
Ezra’s scream as the scalpel dug into his throat, trailing blood in a neat
incision. "What are you doing to him?" Vin demanded as the scalpel
moved against Ezra’s throat with Nathan holding him down with every ounce of
strength the healer could muster. Ezra had bucked in agony, his hands fighting
Nathan’s grip to push away the scalpel at his throat.
Oh God it hurt.
She never dreamed how much pain it could cause her
when she heard his scream. It was quite possibly the first time he had ever
done so. Alex blinked away the urge to throw her arms around him and beg
forgiveness because she was not done. She fought the feelings that she felt so
strongly for him and forced her mind into that place she reserved when it was
necessary to perform such grisly work. Despite the fact that it was a cardinal
rule to never get involved with her patients, Alex had never been able to obey
that discipline, and finally as Ezra bled all over his hands, incoherent from
the pain while suffocating, she understood why it had been so necessary.
Alex kept her thoughts singularly focussed on
searching through the cut flesh, ignoring Ezra’s cries of pain that had
disintegrated into whimpers of agony. Instead, she concentrated on finding the
ringed tissue that made up his trachea so that she could put an end to his
torment. After an agonizingly long series of seconds, the scalpel deepened the
incision enough to penetrate the wall of muscle. Quickly, she inserted a tube
into the opening, sliding it carefully inside and then waited with a held
breath for signs that the procedure had worked.
The seconds slipped by when suddenly, there was a
visible intake of suction as air was drawn into the passageway. Ezra stopped
wheezing and relaxed under Nathan’s grip as the pain allowed him the mercy of
slipping into darkness. The wheezing resumed again but only because Ezra was
breathing through the tube in his neck. The pain evaporated from his face as
Alex finally had time to administer that sedative. She watched him slip into a
fitful sleep and thought how different he looked when he slept. She brushed her
hand against his cheek and felt a wave of emotion that threatened to break her
resolve there and then.
Nathan could see Alex trying to keep that brave
face, but the distress at hearing Ezra scream in pain and the knowledge that
she was the one to inflict it left its mark on her. "Are you alright Miss
Styles?" Nathan asked, watching her fight to maintain her composure as she
sat before him, her hands covered in blood, trying not to cry.
"I’m fine" she said softly, her lips
quivering as she started cleaning the blood around Ezra’s skin. "The tube
will let him breathe until the swelling goes down" she continued speaking
after a moment, returning to that cool clinical voice that distanced her from
the patient.
"Is he going to be okay?" Vin asked from
the front of the wagon, "What happened?"
"We just had to cut him open a bit."
Nathan explained because Alex could not. She was cleaning Ezra’s blood from her
hands because she suddenly felt as if she could not get rid of it soon enough.
"He’s going to be fine."
Nathan wondered if the same could be said for Miss
Styles.
*********
The Terminator awoke precisely 43.02 minutes after
emergency shut down was initiated.
Its internal chronometers registered the lapse in
time before the neuro-net reset itself and activated a self diagnostic of the
damage that had precipitated the complete shut down of all its systems. The
Terminator had been designed with a dozen safeguards in place for almost every
possible misadventure that could be visited upon it. The war with the humans
had made that level of precaution necessary. As Skynet had predicted, the
weapons of this age had little ability to cause it any level of serious damage.
What gave it concern was how an energy spike had been created to cause an
overload of the magnitude it suffered.
Its internal memory banks, in tandem with Skynet’s
formidable sentience examined the encounter. The weapon used was not unfamiliar
to the Terminator or Skynet. Capable of producing electrical discharges of up
to 25,000 volts, the tazer gun could stun a human into unconsciousness. If the
Terminator had not been safeguarded against the possibility of such an attack,
it was quite possible for the small weapon to have rendered it completely
inoperable.
However, what concerned the Terminator was neither
the attack nor the effect upon it. Tazers were weapons favored in the 20th
century as a possible replacement for projectile weapons. Its data banks
revealed that they were largely in use as self defense weapons, since they were
small enough to be carried about and attracted little attention. Whatever their
application, there was no possible reason why a weapon of this nature should
exist in this time period. There was also the matter of the human who had used
the weapon. There had been little time to do an appropriate scan, but what it
was able to examine was also interesting. The male’s life signs were abnormal
by human standards. If the Terminator was forced to theorize as to why this
might be, it would be forced to concede that the human might have undergone
some form of gene manipulation.
It was something else that should not exist in
this era.
The Terminator came to the conclusion that it was
not the only time traveler in this period. Although the realization gave it
pause, it did not alter the prime directive that overrode all other
considerations, the primary target had to be neutralized.
The cyborg sat up abruptly, no flex in its back as
it rose to an upright position. It moved its red eyes over the wreckage of the
saloon and found that it was alone on the premises. The damage to the area
during its encounter with the primary target was considerable, but it sensed no
life signs among the debris. The target, and those who had sought to defend
him, had wisely left, although the Terminator could sense other life signs
closing in on its position.
Standing up quickly, the Terminator found it
prudent to vacate the area and resume its search, shifting its attention to the
secondary target who was also known to be a resident of this location. However,
it required substantial self maintenance before the search could begin. It
registered injuries to the organic covering over its titanium endoskeleton.
They were merely superficial wounds for it had no organs for the bullets that
had deflected off its metallic frame to harm, and it could function well enough
without it. However, it did realize that its ability to track the subject was
severely compromised if it could not blend in. Camouflage was its primary
function, and until that end could be achieved, it would be at a disadvantage.
Its audio sensor identified numerous voices
approaching the establishment, closing in on the position of the main entrance.
The Terminator scanned the building and found an alternate exit through the
kitchen area. Striding forward, it entered the kitchen and found it to be
relatively untouched by the firefight earlier. Several pots sitting on top of a
wood stove were overflowing, their contents stabbing at the fire that was
hissing in retaliation. Some of the food being prepared within had been boiled
to evaporation and it could smell the burning stench in the air. It could also
smell smoke in the air, but that was of no concern to it.
The rear door was closed but not locked when the
Terminator reached it. By this time, the voices had moved past the door and it
could hear their footsteps in the main section of the premises. There was an
increased level of agitation from the humans outside as they discussed in loud
voices what had transpired within the building. Their presence only made the
Terminator hasten its advance through the back door.
By the time anyone had come to inspect the
kitchen, all they found was an open door leading into the dark night beyond.
*******
At the same time that the Terminator was on the
move, Chris Larabee and his companions were well on their way to the property
of Nettie Wells. The group was still in a state of disbelief at the events of
last hour, and Darien could sense their need to understand. It was in the rules
that future events were to be kept from those who might endanger it. Even
Sahmbi understood the importance of it. The doctor had made a foolish bid to
alter future events in his initial arrival to the 20th century, but
apparently abandoned the notion to maintain the integrity of the time line.
Whether or not it was afterthought to the fact, Sahmbi had realized that he
could endanger his own existence by changing the future.
However, Darien was now faced with something of a
new experience. The rules said nothing about keeping the knowledge of future
events from those whose survival was necessary for it to unfold as it should.
He did not know the others with Chris Larabee and Mary Travis, but the duo
trusted them with a great deal more than just their lives, so Darien found that
it was important that they understood what was at stake.
"Now can we find out what this is all
about?" Buck asked impatiently, needing answers of his own, particularly
why this stranger was wearing his face.
"You can decide if the others need to
know." Darien said ignoring Buck’s demand as they slowly rode towards the
Wells property. There was a prevailing mood of silence that demanded
explanation, and Darien knew that Larabee and Mary Travis had to know the full
ugliness for them to appreciate how the future depended on their survival.
"Alright." Chris nodded and said firmly.
"Now, why does it want me?" He could not imagine anything that could
justify the relentless determination of that machine to end his life. It had
been willing to kill everyone in the saloon to reach him, and Chris shuddered
to think what else it might be prepared to do to reach that end.
"You’ve got to keep an open mind about
this." Darien warned, mindful of the fact that they might think he was
mad. "I know what I’m about to tell you sounds far fetched."
"Normally I’d agree with you," Chris
replied softly. "But we know what we saw, so tell me" he said wearily
and met Darien’s eyes with a sharp gaze that indicated he had very little
patience for any more delays.
Darien nodded, looking to the starry sky for
answers that would not come. Like always, the future seemed to be his exclusive
responsibility to maintain. He did not want to do this but he had no choice.
The future depended on his ability to convince. "In a little more than a
century, all this will be gone."
"Are you talking about the future?" Mary
exclaimed.
"Yes I am." He met her startled blue
grey eyes and nodded. There was disbelief in her face, in all their faces
except Chris’, but he knew it would not be there for long. Eventually, they
would believe. Darien had no doubt of that.
"Go on." Chris said neutrally, refusing
to admit his belief in anything until he heard more.
"A century from now there will be a
war." Darien responded as the horse continued on its lethargic pace. He
was never a good storyteller. "A global war that is nothing like you can
imagine. Three billion people die in an instant." Darien tried to imagine
it as Sarah had described, and knew that he would never truly understand it
because he did not live through the things she had, and was not plagued by the
nightmares that sill haunted her.
He heard someone suck in their breath and thought
it might have been the preacher, the one called Josiah. Darien continued.
"In the future, machines don’t need man to run them. In fact, we tend to
rely on them to do most of the work for us. The voice you and JD heard earlier
was one such example." Darien produced the AT & T phone AMEX card that
was Selma in disguise before replacing it in his coat again. "However,
there are more powerful machines around, and after a while they had so much knowledge
that in their own way, they lived. It was nothing like what we call living but
nonetheless, the instinct to survive was just as strong."
"Did they start the war?" JD asked,
starting to feel his doubt fade away. He had remembered the unearthly sound he
had heard inside Mary’s kitchen followed by the voice that came out of thin
air. Even if he did not completely buy into Darien Lambert’s tale, he could not
discount what his own eyes had witnessed.
"Yes." Darien answered without
hesitation and noticed that the silence seemed to stretch into the empty plains
around them. "One machine in particular, named Skynet. It launched our own
weapons against us and wiped out one-third of the planet’s population. There
were survivors, not many but enough. However, Skynet was not ready to let us
take over again and so the war with the machines began. I was told that it went
on for thirty-one years. Humanity sat on the verge of extinction."
No one could speak because the story Darien
painted was too awful to comprehend. He could see it in their eyes, the
desperate need to forget what was heard, to return to the safety of their
ignorance. Darien wished he could allow that, but the future was being decided
at this moment and he needed their help to make certain that it did not end with
the human race dissolving into nothingness.
"Out of nowhere, a man appeared. His name was
John Connor and he turned the tide of extinction and brought the human race
back from the brink. He taught the others how to fight, how to defeat the
machines, using nothing but the best of what we all have inside us. In the end,
he would become the supreme commander of the human resistance. In its
thirty-first year, John Conner defeated Skynet and won back our world."
Darien felt the admiration in his own voice, knowing that young boy he had
dinner with had all this inside of him. Even if the events he was describing
would never happen, Darien knew without question he would die for John Connor.
"But we won…" JD exclaimed, not understanding what this then had to
do with them.
"Skynet had a time machine and it decided
that if it could not win the war in the future, it would destroy the man who
was responsible for its defeat in the past. Skynet sent a Terminator back
through time, not unlike the one you just faced in the saloon."
"That thing was a machine?" Buck asked,
"But we saw it bleed."
"It’s camouflage." Darien explained
promptly. "It’s like a skin on a snake, just covering so it can blend in
and find the target."
"Why Chris?" Mary asked, looking at
Chris from the wagon as the words escaped her lips. Even though it was late
summer, she felt a cold shudder running through her.
"In order to ensure its victory in the past, Skynet had to wipe out John
Conner’s entire existence, his affect on the survivors. The Terminator was sent
into the past to find his mother, to kill him before he was born. Fortunately,
John learned about the plan and he was able to send someone back to stop it.
The man who went back was no more than a kid really, 19 years old, but he had
been fighting a war from the day he was born. His name was Kyle Reese and he
found Sarah Conner.’
"Sarah?" Chris reacted for the first time, wondering if this was some
strange coincidence or was fate trying to amuse itself at his expense.
"Yes." Darien nodded, involuntarily
thinking about the woman and the promise he made her. It would all be for
nothing if he succeeded, only to go back and find that she knew nothing of him.
Perhaps Selma was right, maybe Darien felt a little more for Sarah Conner than
he let on. "Sarah and Kyle defeated the Terminator, but not without the
Terminator killing Kyle first. Unfortunately it was too late and this was the
part Skynet never knew. Kyle was John Conner’s father. I’tsIt’s what we called
a predestination paradox, something that is meant to happen as a flowing
historical event."
"So he was meant to go back in time, to meet
her and father John." Josiah stated.
"Pretty much." Darien smiled.
"Almost makes you believe in God doesn’t it?" Darien could not help
adding.
"Something like that." Josiah returned
the smile with one of his own.
"So John is born." Mary urged him to
continue. "She raised him alone then?"
"As far as I know." Darien nodded.
"Kyle tells Sarah enough about the future for her to stop certain events
from happening. In essence, she stops Skynet from being built, which in turn
ends the war before it even begins. History continues from that point quite
well. We survive as a species, go on to better things and life pretty much
happens the way it’s meant to. I was born in the 22nd century where
man is still running things. I had to returned to the 20th century
when some criminals from my time escaped there, and that’s how I met
Sarah."
"You’re a lawman?" Buck grinned. The
irony was not lost on any one of them. "If it all goes as you say, then
why is this thing here now?"
"Well time is a funny thing," Darien
sighed, not relishing the idea of explaining the whole notion of temporal
mechanics and alternate realities to this group who did not have the least
concept of any of it. Still he had to try. "Time is like a river, it goes
in one direction and any event can create forks. Now sometimes these forks
become rivers of their own, only if the original is erased. The 22nd
century that I know is what happened when the river forked. Sarah Conner’s
actions stopped the original river from flowing, and it ended abruptly,
allowing the remaining branch of the fork to become the main time line. Do you
understand?"
"I think I do." Mary nodded. "Its
like every moment in time has its own outcome. Like what would happen if I had
crossed left instead of right, the potential for both still exist."
"That’s right." Darien said impressed by
her acumen. "Skynet realized that its Terminator had failed and in
understanding this decided that if it could not kill John’s mother then it
could kill his father. However, this time it wasn’t going to take a chance in
allowing the Terminator to be destroyed or discovered for that matter. It
picked an era where there was nothing to fight it and no chance of anyone
realizing that the death was anything but natural for the period. This time,
Skynet was not going to just kill a person, it was going to wipe out an entire
family line for the next 120 years."
"It wants to erase Kyle Reese from
existence." Josiah said in understanding. "If it wipes out Kyle Reese
then it changes things entirely. There wouldn’t even be a war."
"Or humanity." Darien concluded in
confirmation of what Josiah had grasped. "An associate of mine returning
to the 22nd century found a world without any human beings
whatsoever. A complete mechanized society. All this because of you,
Chris."
"Me?" Chris looked at him blankly.
"Don’t you see," Buck exclaimed, realizing what Darien was talking
about. "Its you Chris, it needs to be rid of you because this Reese fella
is one of your descendants."
"Oh God." Mary groaned. Chris glanced at
her and saw that she was turning quite pale. A note of concern crossed his eyes
as she saw her visibly distressed. Even Inez was staring at her in concern,
noticing the sudden fear that appeared in her eyes.
"Mary, what is it?" Inez asked her
friend, knowing that look of anxiety all too well.
"Nothing" she said quickly, this was not
the time to discuss it. She was not about to tell Chris that she was expecting
his child in front of an audience and in light of what they were just told.
"I’m not feeling well" she replied evasively forcing the blind panic
out of her eyes before she trusted herself to meet Chris’ gaze once more. She
was never a good liar and Chris knew her too well for her to hide anything for
very long.
Chris was staring at her intently because he knew
Mary was lying, and worst of all, she was lying to him specifically. There was
fear in her eyes, not merely caution but genuine terror. Instinct told him it
had little to do with what had happened today. This was deeper and more
personal in a way he could not define. He wondered what she had not told him,
but knew confronting her about it at this moment was not the right thing to do.
His relationship with Mary was one without secrets as they had been able to
share almost everything explicitly. What could be so awful that she was afraid
to tell him?
His eyes were still fixed on Mary even when she
had turned away, clearly hiding from him because she was aware of how well he
could read her. Inez was perplexed at her behavior for she had seen the fear in
Mary’s eyes as well. The Mexican glanced in Chris’ direction and shrugged her
shoulders helplessly because she did not know what was wrong with Mary either.
Chris wished they were alone so he could allay her anxieties, but at the moment
it was impossible. He made a mental note to steal a moment alone with her when
they arrived at the Wells’ place.
"Is that right Darien?" Chris said
turning back to the man from the future. "Does thing want to kill me
because I’m related to Kyle Reese?"
He had to hear it for himself. Until Darien
Lambert said it for certain, none of this would be real, and it had to be real
to him if Chris was going to be in any position to fight Skynet and its
Terminator.
"I’m sorry Chris," Darien answered with
a nod once the strange exchange between Chris and Mary had passed, putting an
end to the question once and for all. "According to the genealogical
records of the 22nd century, Kyle Reese is a direct descendant of
you and Mary."
So now he knew for certain, and in knowing,
understood just how much was at stake. Mary was no longer looking at him; in
fact her eyes were staring into the night at some terrible monster only she was
privy to. Chris was almost positive that it had little to do with the
Terminator that would soon be on their trail in its savage hunt to destroy the
future.
Nevertheless, despite the danger and implications of Darien Lambert’s
statement, Chris could not help feeling some pleasure in the knowledge that
some day he and Mary would be husband and wife, and that there would be
children born to them. Knowing that he and Mary had a future ahead of them
filled with children and grandchildren gave Chris some measure of contentment.
Although he tried not to show that he was pleased at the possibility of being a
father again, Chris did admit to feeling a sense of purpose that been absent
from his life since Sarah and Adam were so cruelly taken from him. He liked the
idea that he and Mary would have children some day.
Suddenly, something clicked inside his mind.
Events began to fall into place one after the other,
tiny fragment of images that made little sense on their own but once together,
brought about a startling realization. It made perfect sense and he chided
himself that he had not seen it. The short temper, the exhaustion and the loss
of appetite, it was a string of obvious symptoms he should have seen before
this. Hadn’t it been the same way with Sarah? Just how long did he think that
he could share her bed without there being some consequences of their union?
Their lovemaking had a deeper purpose other than sexual expression of love.
What if…the thought trailed off in his mind and without even realizing the
words were coming from his lips, Chris turned to Mary.
"Mary, are you pregnant?" He asked out
loud, not caring who heard.
His question froze all the conversation around
them dead in its tracks. Mary turned to him slowly; her face reflecting nothing
less than pure astonishment and in her eyes he saw his answer. "Yes."
She nodded after a moment, almost dazed by the intellect that had allowed him
to guess the secret she had been trying to cope with all day. Ever since they
had begun this flight from Four Corners, Mary had been aching to tell him, but
was seeking a more private place to make the announcement. She wondered what
had precipitated this sudden flash of insight.
No one said a word as they stared at either Mary or Chris, waiting in
anticipation for one of them to speak.
Finally, it was Chris who broke the silence
between them. "Darien," he said with supreme calm that showed
absolutely no signs of the stunning information he had just received. He did
not look at Mary when he spoke. "I assume if this thing can’t get me, it
will get Mary."
Darien nodded slowly, feeling some pity for the
beautiful Mary Travis who was probably reeling from what he had told her. He
tried to imagine what she must have been feeling to be pregnant and unmarried
in this day and age, while being told that some mechanized monster was on the
hunt for her unborn child and its father.
"Yes, that’s right." Darien nodded,
making no attempt to conceal the harsh reality from the man. "It has a
battery life of a 120 years, it can wait you out for a long time if necessary.
If it can’t get you or Mary, it will try for any one of your descendants before
it finally powers down."
"How the hell do we fight something like
this?" JD exclaimed, hoping that Darien had an answer. He had been privy
to some earth shattering news in the last hour and he had to know that someone
had a plan. Youthful optimism would allow him no other option.
Chris did not know. He wanted to take Mary away
from here and hide her away until the danger was over, but hiding was not in
his nature. He refused to start now. However, there was more to consider than
just his pride. There was the child that slumbered inside Mary. It deserved to
know both of them, but at the moment he had no idea how to make good on that
wish.
"If you care to make a detour when we get to
the Wells place, I may have a solution." Darien spoke up because he saw
Chris debate these things silently. It was understandable that he should feel
slightly out of his depth with the presence of Skynet and the Terminator. These
were battles to be fought by the generations that came after them, not by him
personally. Yet he would do it without fear, as long as the woman was safe and
the child within her. That much Darien Lambert knew about Chris Larabee.
"At this point," Chris let out a sigh.
"I’m open to suggestions."
Darien nodded. "I guarantee you, you’ll love
this one."
Part Five
Revelations
There were moments when she wondered at what exact
point had he come to mean so much to her. She was an old woman with only a
niece to care for and Casey was more than a handful at times, even more so now
that the impetuous tomboy was evolving into a young woman. There was no need to
feel so warmly towards a mostly silent, bounty hunter with a price on his head
and eyes that were older than his years. Yet Nettie Wells found that Vin Tanner
had come to mean something to her since he and his friends came riding to her
rescue almost a year ago. Thanks to the seven, the land her husband had died
taming was still hers and not the property of some greedy land baron waiting
for the inevitable arrival of the railroad.
Of the seven it was Vin that touched her most
because she saw in his eyes a need to know what it was to have the love of a
mother. His own had died when he was too young and Nettie knew that something
of her manner reminded Vin of the woman who bore him, deep within those
memories of childhood he would never admit to having. Since their first
meeting, he had often rode to see her, sometimes staying for supper and
ensuring that he was available for whatever chores she was unable to do
herself.
During that time, she had come to know a bit about
him because of the intuition that came only with age and experience. People
found him quiet while Nettie found him shy. He did not speak a great deal
because he had spent too much time alone and was only now starting to emerge
from the wall he had built around himself. Unlike Chris Larabee’s whose walls
were intentional, the fortress around Vin Tanner had emerged without him even
realising it. Only now that there were people in his life, he starting to
realise the necessity of human contact.
She had not seen him for a month and was more than
surprised when he turned up with Nathan, Ezra and the new doctor whose arrival
Nettie had heard but had never seen. Casey helped Nathan and Vin settle the
injured Ezra Standish in one of the guestrooms while they waited for the rest
of their band to arrive. The doctor had asked for a place to wash and
considering the blood on her clothes and her hands, Nettie saw no reason to
deny the request. The young woman was polite and refined, extraordinarily
beautiful in the way that could make men go wild with desire should she chose
to use her looks in that way. Judging by the manner in which she conducted
herself, Nettie guessed she did not. Once she was cleaned up, she disappeared
outside, citing the need for fresh air.
Vin had emerged shortly after she had left the
house and disappeared outside, explaining to Nettie that Nathan would keep an
eye on Ezra until the others arrived. Nettie had sent Casey to bed, knowing the
young woman would only fidget until JD arrived and Nettie could just get tired
watching her. Besides, once JD arrived, Casey would not be going to sleep
anyway. It was best she got some rest before that time. After ensuring that
Nathan supplied with a hot cup of coffee, Nettie joined Vin at the kitchen
table. She noticed something different about him almost immediately. There was
an unusual edge to his manner, a surliness that had not been present before.
She could not understand what had caused it to appear so abruptly.
"Where did she go?" Vin inquired gruffly
when Nettie poured him a cup of coffee.
"Out for some air." Nettie replied,
watching the expression in his eyes. It was a slight reaction. Nettie doubted
anyone but she would have noticed it. It was like a flicker in the eyes that
disappeared almost as quickly as it began.
"I reckon she need it." He said staring
into the black depth of his coffee cup. "She saved his life."
Nettie watched his face and then realised
something else as well. "She’s very pretty."
"I suppose." He cleared his throat and
gulped down a mouthful of coffee. He was detached even for Vin and Nettie
realised in a flash of insight what he was hiding beneath that practised mask
of indifference.
"How long has this been going on Vin?"
Nettie asked finally, never taking her eyes of him.
Vin looked up at Nettie, not understanding what
she meant by that remark.
"What?" He probed.
"How long have you been feeling this way
about her?"
His eyes widened at the declaration and his cup
landed on the table with enough force to spill some coffee on the table.
"I don’t feel anything about Alex." He said evasively but Nettie knew
perfectly well that she had rattled him considerably. Knowing Vin, he would
keep it bottled inside and never do anything about it. "It’s the first time
I’ve ever you heard you call a woman by her first name."
"That’s what she tells everyone to call
her." Vin pointed out. "Call me Alex, she says." Despite
himself, he could not help but smile a little whenever he remembered her saying
it. He saw the stare Nettie was giving him, like she was able to see past all
the barriers as if they were not even present.
"She doesn’t belong to me." He stated so
Nettie would understand. "She’s Ezra’s."
Nettie nodded in understanding knowing how mindful
he was of such things, especially after Charlotte. "Have you spoken to her
at all about how you feel?"
Vin’s face registered panic at the possibility of
such a thing. He could not for a moment fathom exposing his inner most feelings
in that manner. Charlotte had ripped out his soul when she walked out of his
life, Vin knew without doubt he could not imagine going through that pain
again. Not to mention what it would do to his friendship with Ezra if he ever
learnt about Vin’s infatuation and that was all this was, Vin told himself, an
infatuation.
Why did he always fall for the ones who were
taken?
"No." Vin said firmly so that Nettie
would understand just how serious he was about this. "And I ain’t never
going to either." He answered placing emphasis on the word ‘never’. Vin
stood up and started towards the door, needing to get out of this room and away
from this conversation.
"You may regret it." Nettie pointed up
as Vin twisted the door handle to leave.
"I already do." He replied and
disappeared outside.
********
She could not stop crying.
Alex found herself walking until she found the
creek than ran through the Wells property and took a moment alone to release
the emotions bottled up inside her. She had never had to operate on anyone she
cared for and hearing Ezra scream had effected her more deeply than she had let
on. Even though she was the picture of calm while washing the blood of her
hands in Nettie’s kitchen, she could not get rid of it fast enough. She could
not understand why this was so hard. When she had operated on Nathan, she had
done without a thought as to how it would make her feel because it was
necessary to save his life. However, the experience in the wagon was different.
She had felt almost none of the confidence of surgery that had served her in
the past. Each incision through his skin, followed by that awful cry made her
doubt herself.
What if she had made a mistake? How could she have
lived with that knowledge?
"Alex?" She heard Vin’s voices in the
bushes behind her and groaned visibly. She did not need another verbal joust
with Vin Tanner at this point. For some reason whenever he was anywhere near
her, he became so adversarial she felt compelled to meet it in kind. Quickly
composing herself before answered, Alex wiped the tears from her face.
"Yes." She said abruptly, sniffling one
last time before he reached her.
After the conversation with Nettie, the last thing
Vin had wanted to do was run into Alex but he had gone walking mostly to clear
his head and the tracker in him had noticed the signs of her in the presence in
the terrain. Unconsciously, he had followed the trail of broken branches and
crushed twigs that eventually gave him a reasonable idea of where she would
arrive once she had followed the path to its conclusion.
He had heard her crying and wondered what was
compelled to find out why even though every fibre of his being was telling him
to leave her be. Speaking with Nettie had brought out an uncomfortable kernel
of truth he had preferred to left buried. However, Nettie drawing it out of him
was like releasing of the proverbial genie from the bottle.
"Are you all right?" Vin asked upon
reaching her. She was staring into the greenish water, the evidence of tears
yet to dry on her glistening cheek.
"I’m fine." She replied with a slight
nod of her head.
"You don’t look fine." He pointed out.
"I’m just suffering a little post surgery
jitters." Alex lied, not wanting him to see how shaken she was. For some
reason, Alex did not want to appear weak before Vin Tanner. She could not
explain why. Perhaps because he had been so difficult since her arrival in Four
Corners. Theirs was never a warm relationship; it barely bordered on the civil.
They seem to annoy each other with little or no difficulty at all. Alex could
not understand it. She wondered if Vin did.
"You did fine." He said taking a step
closer. "Ezra would be dead if it weren’t for you."
"Well that’s a first." She managed to
say. "You’re not this normally kind." It had meant to be a joke but
when it was spoken, it sounded neither funny nor nice. Immediately, she felt
terrible for making the remark, after all, he was trying to be supportive.
"I’m sorry Vin," she apologised and turned away. "It was hard
operating on Ezra."
"I reckon it couldn’t be easy hearing him cry
out like that." He guessed accurately and took another step towards her.
"I know that." Alex answered unable to
force away this turmoil that was raging inside her. "I’ve never had a
problem performing surgery since I left medical school. Look at my hands,"
she said showing him her trembling fingers. "I can’s stop shaking."
Vin Tanner did something then that was very
unexpected.
She had not noticed how close he had been standing
before her but was perfectly aware of him now. Vin reached for her hands and
enveloped them in his own. His skin felt pleasantly warm against hers and Alex
felt her stomach leap inside her as he gently held her hands in his until the
shaking had ceased.
"That any better?" He asked quietly, his dark eyes staring at her
intently.
"Yes," Alex replied swallowing hard as she
removed her hands from his. "Thank you." Her heart was pounding in
her chest, not at her confused emotions but at his unexpected behaviour. Ever
since she had arrived in town, Vin Tanner had been a thorn in her side at every
turn. The others accepted her medical knowledge without question after that
first night in town when she had saved Nathan’s life. Since then, it was with
pride that she could honestly say that she had been invited into a circle of
camaraderie that had very exclusive membership. However, she had never felt
comfortable around Vin and often reacted to his gruff manner in kind. This show
of tenderness surprised her.
"You did what you had to for Ezra." Vin
continued speaking, choosing to remain on familiar ground instead of exploring
uncharted waters that it was clear she was unprepared for and he had no
intention of violating. "Its bound to effect you when its someone you care
about, knowing that you hold their life in your hands by everything you
do." He paused a moment and a sliver of hurt escaped him when he thought
about what he was going to say next. "Sometimes to do the best thing for
someone you care deeply about, you have to hurt them a little. It’s hard and
eats away at you a little but its necessary. I know it ain’t much comfort but
try to think of it that way."
"It isn’t at the moment," she smiled;
touched by his efforts to say the words that would make this hurt go away. To
some degree, he had succeeded. "But I suspect it will when I get a little
more time with it." She looked at him with a little of her former spirit
returning and remarked. "Are we becoming friends now Mr Tanner?"
Vin returned her gaze and replied. "Not that
I can see" He grinned and drew a laugh from her. "Come on," he
gestured for her to follow. "Nettie’s made some coffee."
Still chuckling, Alex nodded and accompanied him
back to the house.
*******
Buck Wilmington had questions.
When Darien Lambert had given them the truth, Buck had been expecting all of
his questions to be answered. For most part, Darien had done his best to fulfil
all their curiosities except one. Why they both looked so similar. As they
continued riding towards the Wells’ place, each one of the group with silent
thoughts of their own, Buck found himself similarly preoccupied. He glanced at
Chris and saw the man in black riding away from the main group, not even
looking at Mary Travis. Buck suspected that he was coming to grips with news
that he would be a father come spring. Even JD seemed at a lost for words and
Buck could hardly blame him. Darien's story could challenge even the most
open-minded and JD was a kid who knew barely anything about the world except
what he had learnt from books.
Darien had expected at some point that Buck would
approach him. The time traveller had seen the burning desire in Buck’s eyes to
know the truth. Why did they look so alike? From the moment, Darien had
actually seen Buck Wilmington for himself and realised it was not just a case
of mistaken identities, he had been pondering the question. The similarities between
them were too exact to be simply a coincidence and reluctantly, Darien began to
consider the question on a genetic level. The answer was obvious but it
frightened him to find out for certain.
Whoever his parents might have been, Darien had
become comfortable with the knowledge that they had not wanted him. The
surrogate who bore him was also lost to him but what he had of her was more
substantial than what he had of those whose genetic stuff had given him life.
He chose the name Lambert because it was the only real connection he possessed
to the woman he considered to be his mother. Over the years, it became
unimportant for him to learn who his parents might have been even though the
question regarding the desertion of him still lingered.
Seeing Buck Wilmington brought all those questions
back because he was almost certain that Wilmington was a direct ancestor as
John Connor was a direct descendant of Chris Larabee and Mary Travis. The irony
of it was not lost on Darien that he might discover his own roots in this quest
through time.
"It must be something." Buck Wilmington
said as he and his horse came alongside Darien.
"What?" Darien looked at him and felt
another chill of uneasiness seeing his own eyes on Buck’s face.
"Coming through time." Buck replied before facing the darkness in the
plains beyond. The country was quiet at night except for the occasional howl of
coyote and the hooting language of owls.
"Not really." Darien replied. "Most
of the time it gives me a headache and a need to throw up."
"Kind like a hard nights drinking." Buck
said sympathetically, knowing how it felt after a hangover and decided that he
would never again complain that it was only the drink that had caused it.
"Do you have time to drink?" Darien
retorted with a faint smile. "You must be popular man with the ladies. I
must have seen a dozen of them smiling at me on my way to the saloon."
Buck laughed and then returned with a grin of
mischief. "It is my animal magnetism. Come on now," he looked at
Darien. "You can’t tell me it ain't the same where you come from?"
"I’m not much of a ladies man." Darien
admitted and realised with his surprise that it was mostly a truthful
statement. His travels had him zigzagging from one place to another, with
little time to pause and make attachments. There were women here and there,
Annie being the one that came to mind first but she was a possibility that he
kept at arm’s length because he feared caring for her would not be a genuine
emotion but a longing for Elyssa whom she resembled so closely. "I’ve got
too much work to do."
This clearly troubled Buck. "Man can never
have that much work." He said seriously. "Don’t tell me there ain’t
vacations in the 20th century."
"I lost someone a long time ago." Darien
found himself admitting, feeling slight defensive that Buck’s words were
getting under his skin.
"I see." Buck nodded in understanding.
He knew what it was like all too well but he also knew that withdrawing away
from everyone and everything was no answer. He had seen Chris drag himself into
the abyss and had remained there for so long that Buck did not believe that
Chris would ever escape its darkness, even with Mary in his life. Grief had a
way of changing people so irrefutably that it was impossible to ever remember
what it was like when mourning and sorrow was not a way of life. "I’m
sorry, I didn’t mean to pry."
"It’s okay," Darien replied blowing out
the attempts of conversation with a heavy sigh. "Look, we both know our
resemblance to each other is not just a coincidence. So let’s just stop the
pretext of getting friendly and find out for certain."
"What is it about me that scares the hell out
of you?" Buck suddenly asked.
Darien looked at him sharply. "I am not scared of anything."
"Yes you are." Buck stared at him hard. "You’re damn afraid of
finding out whether you and I could be related. Why is that?"
"Look, you want it do or not?" He hissed
angrily, unable to deny that Buck had pushed all the buttons that ensured his
temper would get the better of him. It did not help matter much that the man
was right and Darien did feel some measure of fear. After so many years
wondering whom his parents might have been, Darien was faced with the
opportunity of finding out who he was. He could not deny that he was terrified
as well as exhilarated. There was a gamut of emotions battling control over him
and Darien felt his self restraint slipping.
"How?" Buck asked.
"This," Darien reached into his coat and
produced Selma. "Selma, can you do a DNA scan?"
"Yes Captain." Selma answered
automatically.
"What is that thing?" Buck asked looking
at it with deep suspicion. Although Darien had produced the device earlier,
Buck was still uncertain of what it was meant to do beyond the fact that it
appeared to be one of those machines he had mentioned before.
"Think of it as a library that talks."
Darien retorted gruffly. His stomach was quickly twisting into knots at the
possibility of what Selma would find and that Buck was right. He was afraid on
some level of questioning the safe comfortable fantasy he had built around his
surrogate mother and his birth parents. He had accepted that he was abandoned a
long time ago and not knowing who he was had allowed him to go on because there
was little choice but to do so.
Selma was guarded in her vocalisation in Buck’s
presence. Darien’s directive over the years had been specific. He preferred her
silence when in the company of the others for she was too difficult to explain.
However, in this time period, he had been forced to be brutally frank in all
things and that included what Selma was. "I shall need to make personal
contact, Captain."
"Captain?" Buck inquired wanting to know
everything about Darien Lambert. Even if Darien wanted to admit it, Buck knew
without hesitation that this carbon copy was family. He could not understand
why the prospect was so daunting to this man of the future who seemed so
focussed when it came to everything else.
"Captain of Earth Police." Darien
replied without thinking and handed the thin piece of card to Buck. "You
need to hold this." He said quietly, handing Selma to Buck.
Buck examined the tiny mainframe with obvious
curiosity, taking note of its smooth texture and the meaningless words scrawled
against it. "Did you call it Selma?" He met Darien’s gaze in
question.
"Yeah," Darien nodded. "It makes it
easier to talk to." He explained as best that he could without getting
into the whole user-friendly notion of computing and interfacing human
relations.
Buck nodded not really understanding but felt a
slight tingle in his fingertips. For a moment it felt like a sting but realised
it did not hurt enough to be considered that. The feeling was beyond his
ability to describe but he felt like he had been hit with some kind of a
charge.
"I have completed the scan Captain."
Selma replied much to Buck’s delight. He put his ear close to it as if that
would explain how he could hear it speaking. "The scan of mitochondrial
DNA is a 100 per cent match. You are a direct descendant of the subject Buck
Wilmington."
Buck saw the colour evaporate from Darien’s face
even in the moonlight. The fear he had spoken about so accurately before
resurfaced in Darien’s eyes to such a fearful extent that Buck was actually
concerned about his physical state. Without another word, Darien dug his heels
into the side of his mount and rode off into the darkness. Buck heard the hoof
beat come to a stop some distance ahead and knew that Darien was keeping them
in sight, even if he wished to be alone.
"Now I ought to be insulted." Buck
replied still holding Selma in his hand.
"Do not take offence Mr Wilmington."
Selma spoke up suddenly much to Buck’s surprise.
"You can talk in real sentences?" Buck
exclaimed in mild surprise, marvelling at the piece of 22nd century
technology in his hands. He could understand what Darien meant when he had
stated that it was easier to speak to it. The calm, elegant feminine voice was
just the kind of interface that Buck Wilmington was most comfortable with.
"I can speak in real sentences in a dozen
languages." Selma said with a touch of what Buck considered to be
boasting.
"What’s wrong with him?" Buck said
gesturing in the direction that Darien had gone and realised that this thing
had no eyes to see where he was pointing at. In truth, he felt a little silly
talking to a piece of card and did not expect any satisfactory answer.
"The Captain is somewhat overwhelmed, I would
imagine." She responded in that schoolteacher voice, Buck had decided.
"By what?" Buck retorted. "He must
have known that it was likely that we were kin. Hell, after that story he told
Chris, it made perfect sense to me."
"The Captain has no data regarding his birth
parents Mr Wilmington." Selma answered in defence of her human. "He
never knew his parents." She repeated, realising that this ancestor from
the 19th century may not be particularly learned. His verbal skills
certainly indicated that much.
"He’s an orphan?" He stated, starting to
realise why it was so difficult an admission for Darien Lambert.
"It is unknown whether his parents are dead
or alive. They did not claim him after his birth and so he was listed as an orphan."
"Damn." Buck swore to himself realising what learning the truth meant
to Darien. To Buck, it had been little more than a curiosity, a preview of the
future he supposed. His need to know had been motivated by a necessity to
understand why Darien looked so much like him and catch a glimpse of those who
would come after him. It never occurred to Buck that the truth would have far
deeper implications for the man who travelled through time to save the lives of
his nearest and dearest friends. "I guess he has a place to start looking
now."
"That is an affirmative." Selma
answered. "I am able to trace the genealogical records of your family tree
until the 22nd century. There is a high probability that it will
yield the name of his parent from your side of the family, as it were."
"Want some advice?" Buck said still
staring into the night, trying to decide if he ought to approach Darien or not.
"I am subject to any useful
information." She said sounding somewhat annoyed that he should even have
the audacity to ask. Suddenly, the notion that machines could run themselves in
the future did not seem as outlandish after all.
"I wouldn’t tell him unless he asks."
"It is what he wishes to know." Selma
pointed out, now more than ever finding human behaviour to be very perplexing.
"Perhaps he does at that," Buck agreed,
"but not now. He ain’t ready for it and you’ll do more harm than good by
telling too soon."
The voice was silent for a few seconds and Buck
guessed that whatever it had that passed for a brain was carefully regarding
his advice. "I concur with your assessment."
However, Buck was still felt like he had opened
Pandora’s Box for Darien Lambert.
*********
This was hardly the time for hysterics and Darien
knew it.
Of course he had suspected that Buck Wilmington
was a direct ancestor after seeing him for the first time. It was the only
answer that made any sense but having Selma erase any traces of doubt brought a
finality to it that took him by surprise. He knew the full implication of what
it meant to learn that Buck was apart of his family tree. With the records at
Selma’s disposal, she could quite conceivably trace the genealogy of Buck
Wilmington stemming from this point onwards until the 22nd century
and provide to him with his Holy Grail, as neat as you please.
Buck was wrong. He was not scared. He was
terrified.
However, he had come back through time to save the
future, not just his but all mankind and it was a task too important for him to
become unsettled by questions, best left for another day. He was Darien Lambert
and he sworn an oath to protect Sarah Connor’s son. Everything else was
incidental until he restored the time line and went home to the 20th
century.
What Selma knew would keep and when the time was
more appropriate, he would deal with the question of his parentage. At the
moment, he just did not want to think about it.
There was just too much to do.
******
By the time they arrived at Nettie’s, it was well
into the night and the group was exhausted. Chris in particular was mindful
about Mary’s condition and wanted her to rest while he and Darien decided what
they would do next. According to Darien, his mechanical hunter would now shift
its attention to Mary. Although the thought had not occurred to her yet, Chris
knew that the fastest way to draw Mary out of any hiding place was to threaten
young Billy Travis.
Which meant the Terminator would soon be on its
way to Eagle Bend where Billy was in residence with the Judge Orin Travis and
his wife Evie. There was no need to tell Mary about this yet because it was
almost a full day’s ride to Eagle Bend and somehow Darien did not believe that
the Terminator was going to be able to ride there. However, that would not stop
the automaton because Eagle Bend was on the railway line and if the Terminator
made it to Bitter Creek, he would be able to ride the locomotive straight into
the small city.
Fortunately, Nathan had spent most of his time at
the Wells’ place, keeping watch on Ezra, he had barely time to tell Nettie what
had taken place in the saloon. Chris had no idea how to explain the situation
to the elderly lady and had a quiet word to Nathan to keep silent about the
mechanical monster that had almost killed them all. With Alex knowing nothing
and Vin intelligent enough to wait until he received Chris’ permission before
disclosing anything about what he had seen in the saloon, Nettie was only aware
that a dangerous outlaw was in pursuit of them. Vin knew that something strange
was going on and he was willing to wait until Chris had the privacy to discuss
it with him.
In the meantime, Darien who had been the hardest
thing to explain because of his shocking similarity to Buck Wilmington had
asked for the use of the wagon and JD’s assistance to collect some equipment he
had brought with him from the future to combat the Terminator. Since their own
guns were next to useless as proved during the gun battle in the saloon, Chris
was appreciative of any edge they could get. JD seemed eager to accompany the
time traveller and Chris guessed this was mostly due to Darien’s similarity in
nature and resemblance to Buck. However, he did notice that Darien took great
pains to keep away from Buck. He had noticed the exchange between the two men
earlier and assumed something had happened that rattled Darien severely enough
to take flight for a time.
Chris had watched the departure, curios as to what
had been discovered and would have concerned himself enough to ask had he not
been so preoccupied with his own affairs. In particular, the affair that would
precipitate his becoming a father again in about eight months or so. Despite
the current situation and the target that Mary had now become, Chris was
thrilled by the idea. He thought of Adam as baby and reminded the first time he
had to hold the child in his hands. He remembered with bitter sweet memory of
what it had been like to hold something in his hands that was him and Sarah and
know with complete certainty that there was nothing he would do for this life
he was holding. He wanted to share all that with Mary and more.
Chris knew she was afraid. He had not noticed when he had first barged into the
house tonight following the confrontation in the saloon but on the ride from
Four Corners, it was very evident that something was bothering her. There had
been little time to speak to her privately. Everyone had been listening in
quiet shock to the fantastic story that Darien Lambert was weaving for them
with its climatic ending in the revelation that the progeny of Chris Larabee
and Mary Travis would include a child who would save the world. All this with
the first child of that lineage was slumbering inside her.
Chris looked out the front window of Nettie’s
porch and saw Mary alone outside. She was staring into the moonlight, trying to
hide the fear in her face at being so frightened about her current. It was a
general misconception that motherhood was a completely natural thing to women,
even those who went through the ritual more than once. Chris observed Mary and
realised that it was time they had that talk. Inside the house, Nettie
was making a pot of coffee in the kitchen, while Inez and Vin were engaged in
conversation. No doubt, she was telling the tracker just how odd it was to have
two men who looked like Buck Wilmington in her life. Other than Mary, Vin was
the only other person in Four Corners to be Inez’s confidant.
Much to Nettie’s chagrin, Casey who was wide awake
the minute she heard JD’s voice had insisted that she accompany he and Darien
on their little detour. Chris smiled to himself wondering if Darien had any tolerance
with teenagers. Meanwhile, Alex and Nathan, ever the healers despite their
differing methods, were looking after Josiah’s aching shoulder and Buck’s
bruises, respectively.
Chris put down his cup of coffee on the nearest
surface and left the room, content that things would take care of themselves
without his supervision long enough for him to get a few things straight with
Mary. No one made any remark when he left, being perfectly aware of what was
going to be discussed, with the sole exception of Nettie, whose sensibilities
might be offended if she were aware of what liberties Chris and Mary had been
taking with each other out of wedlock.
He stepped out onto the porch and saw her staring
into the night, eyes fixed on a point she only she could see. Mary barely
noticed his presence, even when he came up behind her and slipped his arms
around her waist. Breathing in the scent of her hair, he felt her soften up
against him as her hands squeezed the arms around her.
"You haven’t said anything." She said
softly.
"Looks to me like there was nothing left to
say." He answered, testing the waters gingerly. For the first time, they
were moving into uncharted territory where the mystery of the future had been
stolen from them.
She broke away from his grip then, not altogether
gently. "Don’t say that!" She hissed.
Chris realised then, that once again he had
underestimated just how frightened she was, by a country mile. She was not just
afraid. She was terrified. He could see the raw edge of panic in her eyes barely
concealed by a brave attempt to keep herself composed. "Mary, what’s the
matter? I mean we knew this might happen. We shared enough nights together to
at least have some idea that this was a possibility?"
"For me, not for you!" She cried out.
"Its simple for you. If you wish to leave, you can. You can get on your
horse and keep going and there would never be a need to turn back, would
there?" She challenged.
Chris stared at her in nothing less than
astonishment. After everything they had meant to each other and still did, he
could not fathom her making a statement like that. It was the fear talking,
Chris told himself quickly. He had not seen if before and he should have. He
should not have waited until things had settled down to speak to her, he should
discussed it then instead of letting a thousand anxities haunt her into a
frenzy of terror. "No, there wouldn’t." He said quietly. "But
you know better than that."
"I don’t know anything." She replied and
started to cry. He took a step forward and she backed away instinctively.
"All I know is, at this moment, I am more afraid of you than anything
else."
"Me?" Chris found himself exclaiming and
quickly reminded himself to calm down or his attempt at being the voice of
reason was going to get shot down in a blaze of glory. "We got a
mechanical monster out there hunting the both of us down like a pair of dogs
and I’m the one you’re afraid of?"
She wiped the tears from her eyes and nodded. "Yes, you are." Taking
a deep breath, she tried to steady herself, uncertain if these fears were real
or some hormonal response her body was having. She knew she had a tendency to
be irrational at times like this. "Do you know what it was like when
Steven was gone? I knew nothing, not a damn thing. I had no idea how to balance
to books, work the printer or anything. He let me work on the paper by writing
but everything else was his to run and rule. I loved him but when he left me, I
was not just alone I was helpless!"
"Mary, you’re not helpless any more."
Chris pointed out unable to see what she was alluding to. Whatever frightened
her was real and tangible so Chris was not willing to dismiss it so casually.
He genuinely wanted to reassure her. "You’re far from it. You are one of
the most capable people I know."
"You’re damn right I am." She said
savagely. "It took time and I had to sacrifice my son to do it but I learn
to take care of myself. For the first time in my life, I learned to take charge
of my fate, to let no one make the decisions for me."
Finally, he understood and in understanding knew the words to say that might
convince her, he was better than that and he would rather be without her then
steal from her soul everything she had come to cherish so much in herself.
"Mary, if I had wanted some pretty young thing without a brain in her
head, I could have done better than to find myself the most opinionated,
goddamn stubborn woman in creation to fall in love with. Do you think that I’m
gonna take away everything I saw in you to begin with? This isn’t about the
baby is it? Its why I have to sneak out of your bed and still call you Mrs
Travis when we’re out in public. This is about getting married."
The anger evaporated from her eyes then once the
irrelevancies had been burnt away and they were left with nothing but the pure
product in the crucible before them. "I have no difficulty marrying
you." Mary said evenly but even Chris could see his words had shaken her.
"Like hell you don’t." He stated firmly,
going on the offensive now that he knew how to attack the problem. "Face
it, Mrs Travis you have a problem with commitment."
"I do not have a problem with
commitment!" Mary said in defiance. "You’re not exactly the catch of
the day you know." She retaliated with as much fire in her voice.
"I was good enough for the last two
months." Chris snorted in counter point. "Good enough as a matter of
fact to get you pregnant and be willing to marry you, even though you’ve done
everything except jump on the next stage out of town to avoid the issue!"
Well, being calm was a nice idea, Chris thought to
himself as those words came flying out of his mouth.
*********
"Hey, it is becoming somewhat ugly out
there." Alex announced her concern while wrapping a support bandage around
Josiah’s shoulder. Despite the group’s attempt no to eavesdrop, the volume of
the conversation outside had risen to a level that now made it impossible to
ignore the tantalising entrails of words slipping through the door.
"Should someone go out there?" In her present condition, Alex was
mindful of Mary’s continued state of mental health. She knew the widow was
already having a number of anxieties with her present condition.
"Nah," Buck replied, wincing slightly as Nathan dabbed the cut over
his eye with a solution that stung. "It’s like a pre-mating ritual with those
two. How about it Vin? Two bits say they go another two minutes?" Buck
looked over his shoulder at the tracker.
Vin met Buck’s gaze and smiled a little. "I
call it at three."
"I say less than two." Inez added,
looking up from her cup of coffee.
"That ain’t exactly nice," Nathan said
reproachfully. "Betting on your friends like that."
"What do you call it?" Buck looked at
him sarcastically, knowing Nathan all too well.
The healer dabbed more solution onto the cut and
muttered under his breath. "I say five minutes."
Alex rolled her eyes and exclaimed in
exasperation. "All right, all right, I’ve caused Ezra enough pain tonight.
He’ll probably have a nervous breakdown if he found out he missed out on a
wager. I’ll go three and half for Ezra."
"Now that’s true love." Buck grinned at
the doctor.
Josiah shook his head in resignation. "You
people have no shame." The preacher retorted. "But I’m timing it
cause I got the pocket watch."
*******
"I am not avoiding the issue!" Mary
declared hotly not liking the truth that Chris had forced her to examine.
"Just because I refuse to rush into marriage does not mean I have a
problem with commitment!"
"Oh really?" Chris returned her heated
glare. "Prove it."
"How?" She asked suspiciously.
"Let’s get married right now." He stated
firmly. "Josiah is a preacher, he can do it for us. Hell everyone’s
here!" This time, she was not squirming out of this. He understood her
need not to be rushed and he even respected it for two months. However, the
issue was no longer about her reputation or his inability to become accustomed
to having a woman in his life again. This was about a baby. His and hers. The
issue had become larger than both of them. The child inside her deserved to
have a name and it was not going to be illegitimate if Chris Larabee had
anything to do with it.
Mary looked at him as if he had gone mad.
"Have you lost your mind?" She exclaimed. "That thing is out
there trying to kill us both and you want me to organise a wedding?"
"Who said anything about a wedding?"
Chris replied. "We both say I do, Josiah says we can and that’s the end of
it. We could do it in two minutes, no fuss, no rice."
"Give me your gun," Mary retorted.
"You’re too dangerous to walk around armed."
"So is that a yes, Mrs Travis?" Chris
ignored her sarcasm and pressed again because she had managed to avoid the
question, as she always avoided the question.
Mary fell silent, knowing that the gauntlet was
thrown at her feet and there was no way to escape from picking it up. In a
moment of clarity, Mary Travis realised that if she said no right this moment,
it would be the biggest mistake of her life. She loved him dearly and could not
imagine herself with him in her life so she knew that time for delays and
protests were over. The child inside of her needed Chris as much as she did and
it was time she started remembering that their world was growing by a number of
one.
"Fine." She said bravely. "Let’s
get married."
"Really?" He looked at her, watching for any signs of weakness and
anticipation in any covert attempts to change his mind.
"Yes!" She cried out. "What do you
want? An editorial?"
"No." He shook his head and smiled
faintly. "A yes is good enough. We’ll get married as soon as this thing is
over."
"Wait a minute! What happened to the no fuss,
no rice?" She glared at him in confusion. And they said women were
fickle!
"Well we can’t do it without a wedding."
He looked at her innocently before taking a step forward having disarmed the
situation slightly. He could tell that her anger was disappearing fast even if
her natural stubbornness was holding on desperately. This time Mary did not
step away as he took her hand and pulled her gently towards him.
"I suppose you think this gets you out of
trouble?" She started to smile as their lips met in a passionate kiss that
made the tension of the last few minutes almost completely forgotten. Suddenly
Mary felt that despite the fact that there was indeed a mechanical monster out
there somewhere wanting to kill both of them, that things might just end up
being all right after all.
"Just one thing," Mary asked as Chris
led her back towards the door after they parted. "How did you know?"
"Oh that was easy," he replied, opening
the door for her. "You had that ‘my father is going to kill me
look’."
"I did not!" She said half laughing as
Chris and her rejoined the others in Nettie’s front parlour before she noticed
what they were doing and had to ask. "Why is everyone giving Vin money?"
*******
The Terminator looked in the mirror of the general
store he had broken into. It was night now and the store was left unattended
for the evening. Beyond the glass windows of the premises, his audio sensor
could detect the voices outside. Activating his internal recorder, he took note
of the conversations, scanning for any information that might be useful in his
search for the secondary target while he conducted some maintenance on his
appearance.
The skin on the side of his face had been damaged
because of the shotgun blast he had taken when Larabee had fired. Beneath the
blood and pulp of flesh, his metallic endoskeleton was clearly visible and the
Terminator knew that the first order of business was to camouflage this injury.
A hat would not hide his face well enough and eye patch would only hide cover
his eyes and nothing else. Rummaging through the goods on sale, the Terminator
soon found something that would suffice just as adequately. Unrolling the
length of crepe bandage, he began wrapping the rouche material across the raw
half of his face.
While it wound the bandage across his face, the
Terminator considered his next move. With the disappearance of the primary
target and now the secondary target, it was necessary for him to widen the band
of his search. During the gunfight earlier, the Terminator had scanned all the
humans who had attempted to defend Larabee. His memory banks contained
information on almost all of the six men who were recorded as known associates
of Christopher Larabee.
The Terminator kept its scans localised on
geography, knowing that there was a high probability that Christopher Larabee
would not return to his residence, in anticipation of interception by the
Terminator. A title deed recorded in Larabee’s name told the Terminator exactly
where the target’s land was situated. The human called Nathan Jackson owned a
basic medical infirmary but once again, the probabilities were not in favour of
either the primary or secondary target fleeing to its location. The saloon from
which the Terminator had recently departed belonged to Ezra Standish in part
ownership with a Maude Standish who had no fixed address at this point in
history.
Two possibilities had very high probabilities of offering the Terminator
success. One was a religious establishment frequented by Josiah Sanchez who was
one of Larabee’s associates and was known to be a practitioner of these arcane
beliefs. The youngest of the group, JD Dunne, was purported to have remained in
the town and was noted to have taken a wife whom was this moment, in residence
in this community. The bride to be at this point could be found on a small
farming property several kilometres from the Terminator’s present location.
The Terminator examined himself in the mirror and saw no signs of his
endoskeleton being visible once he had swathed the exposed metal under layers
of bandage. A small crack had been placed in the wrapping procedure so that he
was able to use his optic sensors. Scanning the area, the huge cyborg saw a
hat, stacked neatly with others on a shelf and went towards it. Placing the
headgear over his brow, the cyborg examined himself once more to ensure he
resembled a human once again. Albeit he looked like an injured human but
nonetheless, nothing like a Terminator.
The Terminator also took the opportunity to
discard its soiled clothes, now soaked in blood and replace it with better
fitting garments from the stock in the establishment. He noted the weapons
trapped in place by the thick chain holding them against the rack. Encircling
his titanium digits around the steel, the Terminator removed the link of metal
with one sharp yank. The chain snapped like kindling and the weight of the
heavy links, rattled noisily in its downward descent to the wooden floor. He
surveyed the range present before choosing the most efficient weapons in the
limited arsenal. The ammunition was kept beneath the glass counter and once
again, the cyborg had little trouble smashing his way through the fragile
display case to retrieve what he required.
Once the Terminator was satisfied that he had all
the tools necessary to complete the mission objective, he departed just as
unnoticed into the night to continue the hunt.
**********
There were times when Mary hated being a woman.
There were some things she had forced herself to
bear because the conventions of society demanded it. The endless rules of
behaviour that women were meant to follow while men flaunted them with the
greatest of ease. She detested the prejudices, the constant upkeep of
reputation and the physical danger a woman was often helpless to defend. Most
of all, she hated the constant waiting while men rode off to face dangers she
could not fathom, while she was required to wait patiently for their return.
This was one such moment.
As Chris prepared to make the long journey to Eagle Bend with the rest of the
seven, Mary was forced to trail behind; unable to lend a hand while that
mechanical monster went after her son. Chris was taking no chances with Billy’s
life and thus he was not even waiting for the dawn that would be upon them in
some hours to begin their journey. Orin and Evie Travis had to be warned about
what was coming in their direction so they could escape while there was time.
Mary wanted badly to go with Chris but he would not even consider the notion,
let alone agree to it. As annoyed as she was by his refusal, she knew this time
he was right. It was not just her own life that hung in the balance. There was
also the child growing inside her.
"You get riding to Bitter Creek as soon as
its dawn." Chris instructed her. "When we get Billy, we’ll make our
next move."
Mary did not like the idea of separating but she
understood the need. They had to make time to catch the Terminator as Darien
called it and she would only slow them down. "Okay." She nodded as
she saw the others waiting for Chris to mount his horse. Only Ezra was absent
because he was in little condition to travel at such a frantic pace after the
injuries he had sustained at the monster’s hands. When it was light, Mary,
Alex, Inez and Ezra would travel by wagon to Bitter Creek. None of them had any
connection to Bitter Creek so if the Terminator was using only what information
was available in the historical archives, then it was likely that the town
would be ignored as possible interception point.
"What is our next move?" She asked,
hoping he had an answer.
"I’ll have it figured out by the time I come
back." He smiled and leaned forward to kiss her gently on the lips.
With Darien joining them, the group was still
seven strong without Ezra’s participation. Josiah was at the reins of Mary’s
wagon with Darien riding shotgun, since the time traveller was not terribly
comfortable on a horse. The weapons he had brought with him from the future lay
nestled in the back tray of the wagon, awaiting use on the Terminator when the
group finally encountered the mechanical hunter. Inez was saying her farewells
to Buck, pretending that she really did not care what happened to him even
though Buck could see differently in her eyes. He wondered as she blew him a
kiss if the descendants that gave birth to Darien Lambert would come from Inez
and him. He was almost tempted to ask Darien if he knew that would not bother
the man considerably. Besides, Buck wanted some surprises in his future.
Meanwhile Vin Tanner received the obligatory
caution from Nettie, instructing him to be careful. The tracker was grateful
that the old woman was in his life, no matter how annoyingly easy it was for
her to read him. It gave him some sense of satisfaction knowing at least one
woman would weep if anything happened to him. Since their exchange by the
creek, Vin noticed Alexandra Styles giving him an extremely wide berth. He
suspected what had transpired between them had unsettled her somewhat but he
was not foolish enough to read any more into that then necessary.
"Take care of yourself Mr Tanner." Alex
surprised him by coming up to his horse before their eminent departure. "I
don’t relish having you under my care if you become hurt." She remarked
with the barest hint of a smile on her lips as she met his gaze.
"I’ll try not to inconvenience you Alex." He drawled and turned away
before his own gaze gave away more than he intended.
Mary watched in silence as Chris dug his spurs
into his mount and started the group on its way. As always, he took the lead,
his dark duster trailing in the wind as he rode off into the night. She stared
after him until the cloud of dust left by the trail of horses pulling away into
the darkness, settled in place once more.
"They’ll be fine." Inez said squeezing
her arm gently, knowing she needed support more than ever.
"God I hope so." Mary sighed. "I
don’t think I’m ready to raise another child by myself."
"It won’t come to that." Alex declared
coming up along side of her, offering the reassurance that Mary needed to feel
right now. As her closest friends, the two women knew what anxieties were
running through Mary’s mind about now.
"Come on now," Nettie Wells broke into
the conversation. "You ladies need some sleep." The older woman
gestured at them to come back into the house. "You got a long day ahead of
you."
To that, none of them could disagree.
********
Ezra Standish blinked.
Sunlight was pouring at him through an open window
and as he squinted into focus, he knew that he felt utterly awful. The sharp
pain in his throat quickly followed the realisation of dawn and instinctively
he reached for his neck, only to be subdued by more pain that would have made
him cry out if his throat had chosen to cooperate. There were vague images in
his mind following the burst of horror that was his last conscious thought.
Closing his eyes, he felt his stomach heave
slightly as the memory of tightening fingers around his throat returned to him
and sent a shiver of cold panic through him. He remembered Chris warning the
monster off and it not listening before he was struck with an agony so
excruciating, it left a black hole inside Ezra’s mind. The fear diminished upon
the discovery that he was not in a saloon and the view outside told him that he
was at Nettie Well’s farm some hours ride from Four Corners. Ezra tried to sit
up when suddenly; he became aware that he was not alone on the bed. Slumped
across from her chair, he saw the sheen of dark hair that could only belong to
Alex, resting her head against the bed while the rest of her tried to sleep in
the uncomfortable chair next to the bed. Ezra had no doubt that she had been
there all night.
He ran his fingers through the strands of long
dark hair, luxuriating in its texture against his skin which was the most
tangible evidence of heaven if he had not survived his encounter with that
demonic creature that nearly killed him. She nuzzled against his hand as he
caressed her hair, letting out a soft sigh that would make even the most
resolved of men lose control in a wave of lust and desire. Fortunately, Ezra
was in no condition to do anything remotely in that direction even in the
unlikely possibility Alex were incline to let him take such liberties with her.
She cared for him perhaps even loved him but he knew she was not ready to trust
him with that much power over her. His feelings for Alex were such that Ezra
was willing to wait until she was ready.
In the mean, he could still dream.
His touch stirred her into awakening and after
another breathless sigh; Alex rose her head and blinked at him with heavy
eyelids. It took a few moments for her to register where she was before she
rewarded him with a smile. "How are you feeling?" She asked, brushing
a stroke of tousled hair from her eyes as she started to sit up.
"I’ve been better." Ezra responded and
found that it was not as easy to manage as he believed. His voice little more
than a croak and using his vocal chords had been an exercise in pain.
"Don’t talk," she held a finger to his
lips. "You’re only going to cause yourself more pain." She warned
gently before making a quick examination of the bandage around his throat. Ezra
felt a twinge of arousal as he experienced the light tips of her fingers
against the tender skin of his neck. Her butterfly touches moving up and down
his neck threatened to lull him back to sleep and made the pain he felt almost
bearable. "Whoever did this to you almost crushed your windpipe."
"Almost?" Ezra croaked sarcastically,
unable to let that remark slide without comment. If only she knew what they had
faced. He blinked away the blind panic that came with the image of those last
few seconds as it reached him. Ezra fought the wave of nausea that came with
the memory of that vise like fingers encircling his throat. Suddenly, the
clarity of the moment brought to surface a flurry of questions that demanded
answers. "Chris!" Ezra sat up quickly and groaned in pain at the
sudden exertion. "Did it get Chris?"
"No." She shook her head, trying gently
to coax him back into the pillows. She had heard from Nathan how bravely he had
stood up to his attacker. They enemy was only seconds from killing Chris
Larabee when Ezra provided the interference that allowed Chris to escape at
great cost to himself. Fortunately, Chris Larabee who was never one to miss an
opportunity or abandon friends had used the time to prevent Ezra’s own death.
However, now even Chris was fast enough to keep Ezra from sustaining severe
injury. "You gave Chris enough time get away."
"I gratified to know that he is well,"
Ezra groaned before resting back on the bed as she wished. "However, I
wish I could say the same for myself."
"You’ll live." Alex replied, pouring him a glass of water from a
pitcher that was resting on the side table. He had to be thirsty considering he
had slept most of the night and the cool water would go some way to soothing
his injured throat.
"I’ll trust you on that." He grimaced,
lying back in his pillows again after taking a sip of water. The fluid felt icy
in his throat and did appease some of the irritation he felt but not much.
However, Ezra was grateful when he noticed that there were any injuries
anywhere else on his body. He wriggled his toes and was pleased to know that
they worked which indicated everything else was in order as well. "Am I
mistaken or are we currently at Nettie Well’s humble abode?" He asked,
curious to know to why they were not in his saloon.
"The man who attacked you is still out
there." Alex replied. "Chris and the others thought it was best for
us to keep out of his way until they figured out his next move."
Ezra remembered the glowing red eyes and the steel
plate under the creature’s skin and knew that Chris had obviously left a few
things out in his account of their experiences to Alex. She looked oblivious to
the true nature of the beast and at the moment, Ezra had no wish to enlighten
her. Part of his was still questioning what he had seen and hoped it had not been
a product of bad dream in his unconscious state. Until he spoke to the others
and confirmed that they had seen the same thing he had, Ezra was not about to
enlighten her on what had done this to him.
"So where are the others?" Ezra asked,
disliking the idea that the six might have ridden off without him.
"They had to leave." Alex replied,
"they think its going to go after Billy Travis to draw Chris out."
"That would do it." Ezra admitted
ruefully. Considering the nature of Chris’ relationship with the boy’s mother,
the dept of his concern could not be underestimated. Anyone who wanted to find
Chris Larabee’s weakness need not go any further than the young widow and her
son. "So are we to remain in Mrs Wells’ hospitality until they
return?"
"Afraid not," she shook her head.
"Chris wants us in Bitter Creek as soon as possible." Alex glanced at
the sunshine outside and could hear sounds of the others moving about. Slowly,
the house came alive with the sounds of morning. There was a certain sanity to
it that balanced out the chaos of the past night. "As a matter of
fact," she rose to her feet and stretched her tired muscles from its
cramped position the night before. "I do believe, we ought to get going
soon."
Even though she was trying hard not to show it,
Ezra could see the depth of her concern at his welfare. He had no doubt she had
spent most of the night at his side, keeping a vigil on his life, which she had
undoubtedly saved. It made Ezra marvel in wonder at what he had done to inspire
such passionate feelings in one as centred and sometimes glacial as Alex
Styles. What was it about him that made her care so much?
Ezra had almost no time to ponder that question,
when he heard the sudden explosion of gunfire and the terrified screams that
followed soon after. Alex jumped to her feet immediately and Ezra surprised
himself by scrambling out of the covers with even greater speed. Despite his
injuries, Ezra had beaten Alex to the door as the roar of gunfire impacted
against wood.
"Wait!" He hissed and shoved her aside
as he peered through the open door.
Outside, he saw the monster. It was dressed
differently with a bandage around his face but Ezra knew without a doubt it was
the same thing he had faced the night before. Nettie Wells was lying against
the floor, a terrible gash running across her forehead. The front door was
smashed open, glass and wood covered the wooden floor by the doorway,
undoubtedly how it had gained entry and accosted Nettie. Ezra did not think she
was badly hurt but knew his deduction was amateurish.
Casey was screaming, trying to run past the man to
reach her aunt on the floor. She was almost hysterical from fright.
Ezra closed the door and turned back to Alex.
"Get out the window," he ushered her towards it.
"I’m not leaving you." Alex said
defiantly.
"Trust me, I do intend on staying." He
retorted. "But I need you to get Nettie’s wagon so we can leave."
"Mary and Inez is here as well!" She
declared trying not to let the fear best her but just realising at this moment
that Ezra had no idea that the two women might be with them since he was almost
unconscious throughout the entire trip here.
"Damn." He whispered, having no desire
to face the demon again but knowing now that he had no choice. He just hoped
that this time he would live to tell the tale.
******
The Terminator caught Casey before she could reach Nettie. The young woman
could think of nothing but the blood running down the older woman’s face and
had no idea of what had her so firmly in his grip. She knew it appeared to be a
man but somehow it wasn’t. She had no way of articulating the feeling.
The Terminator picked her up under the chin with his powerful arms, leaving
Casey dangling like a fish on a hook as she struggled above the floor.
The cyborg examined the young woman and estimated
that she was not Mary Travis. This was a female in late adolescence and he was
searching for an adult woman. Upon realising that Casey was not who he sought,
he tossed the girl aside like a rag doll. Fortunately, Casey knew how to land
for she was quite the tomboy, although until now, she had never dreamed her
masculine pursuits would be of such use. Dropping awkwardly on the floor but
not enough to cause herself injury, Casey Wells scrambled to Aunt Nettie’s
side.
She knew how to tell when an animal was dead. She
had gone fishing with JD enough times to realise the look of some thing dying
and to her utmost relief, Casey’s quick examination of Nettie, told her that
her aunt was still in the land of the living. The intruder was almost oblivious
to her now as he moved deeper into the house and Casey took advantage of his
indifference to heave Nettie to her feet. She was a strong girl; Casey Wells,
because she had taken to doing the chores that were still required on a farm
even if there was no man to perform them.
Staggering out the broken remains of the front
door, Casey was aware that something terrible was in pursuit of her friends and
the safest thing for her to do at the moment was to get out of his way. Nettie
was starting to come around as they hurried down the front steps.
"Casey!" Alex exclaimed as she ran
around from the other side of the house after making her hasty exit through the
window. She fought the urge to go back after Ezra but knew he would not
appreciate her return. Right now, he needed her to bring the wagon so they
could all get out of here alive.
"Miss Styles," Casey wailed. "I
think Aunt Nettie’s hurt real bad." The girl said panic stricken as Alex
helped her with the injured older woman. The cut on Nettie’s forehead was deep
and bled profusely, as all cuts on the head tended to do but Alex knew it was
superficial. If Nettie was suffering anything, it was most likely to be a
concussion.
"We’ve got to get out here!" Alex
replied as they both moved towards the wagon.
"Miss Travis and Miss Inez are still in
there!" Casey declared and Alex shared her fear for their lives. She felt
similar distress for Ezra as well, who was injured and would undoubtedly feel
it necessary to get the ladies to safety first, despite the dangers to himself.
She tried not to worry about him and knew that to best help him, she had to get
the wagon to allow him an avenue of escape when he needed it.
*****
"Inez, I am not going without you!" Mary
as Inez took point before the door to the guestroom they were sharing.
"I don’t have time to argue with you!"
The Mexican said angrily. "You know what depends on you staying
alive!" She barked. "Get going!"
Mary Travis was at a loss over what to do. The
window lay before her as her only way to escape. Inez had barricaded the door
but it was obvious after what the Terminator had done to the front door that no
barricade was going to be quite enough to keep him out. Chris had insisted that
they keep a gun in close proximity just in case of trouble, even if he had not
possibly suspected that the Terminator would track them down here. She knew
Inez was right but she could not stomach the thought of leaving her best friend
to face the creature that was slamming the door to the room so hard that the
dresser in front of it was starting to teeter backwards and forward against the
constant pounding.
"I’ll keep behind you!" Inez promised
even though it was a futile hope at best. "Take the horse in the coral up
there and get going!" Inez ordered again, her eyes pleading with Mary to
obey.
Mary could see the grey stallion that was already
reined and knew that she had no choice. "You’re the best friend I ever
had!" Mary cried out as she hurried towards the opening and climbed
through.
"Stop saying that in the past tense!"
Inez shouted back just before a final jolt against the door sent the dresser
crashing forward. Inez jumped back in shock while Mary practically fell out the
window from the loud shudder throughout the room. No sooner than the dresser
had fallen, a powerful fist smashed through the wooden door. Tearing a wide
enough hole in thick wood, Inez was transfixed in a moment of horror as she saw
him rip through the planks as if they were paper. It was only when he was half
way through the door that she raised the gun in her hand and squeezed off a
series of shots.
They had little or no effect on the Terminator as
it entered the room and took note of the open window. The human before him was
of the right age but not the correct racial type. Mary Travis was Caucasian and
this female was almost certainly Hispanic in descent. The six bullets escaped
the chamber of the weapon and struck him across the chest. Her skill in
actually hitting him was mostly due to the fact that she was standing before
him in point blank range. He quickly estimated that she would not pose much of
a threat and in any case was not the subject he was seeking.
Predictably, the weapon soon discharged all its
ammunition when the Terminator was almost on top of the woman, bullets having
no effect on a titanium strong endoskeleton. He struck her in a backhanded blow
that sent her sprawling against the floor. The blow was so powerful that Inez
felt all the wind knocked out of her as her face flared in pain. She hit the
wooden floor and saw the Terminator take a step forward. Inez crossed herself,
knowing with absolute certainty that when he reached her; she was going to die.
"Sir, your manners with the ladies are
absolutely appalling." Ezra Standish’s voice suddenly spoke from the door.
He had entered through the opening made by the Terminator and was standing
before the mechanical monster holding both of Nettie’s double barrel guns in
each hand. The Terminator turned around, disregarding Inez now that a more
formidable threat had arrived.
This time, Ezra did not wait until he got close
enough. He fired both weapons in rapid succession, each blast from the shotgun
forcing the Terminator backwards, towards the open window. Ezra kept firing,
until spent cartridges were flying in all directions. The Terminator staggered
backwards, the force of the blast, keeping it off balance. Finally, as it
neared the window, Ezra aimed both barrels side by side and fired once. The
recoil almost lost Ezra his own footing but it had the desired effect. The
Terminator went crashing through the window into greenery outside.
"Inez!" Ezra hurried to her. He was
aching every step of the way but he knew they would not have much time.
Inez had been dazed but the shotgun fire had
brought her back to her senses with surprising speed. The bruise on her lovely
features had yet to reach full bloom but Ezra had no doubt she would sport a
spectacular black eye when it was all said and done.
"Come on my dear," Ezra helped her to
her feet as his eyes darted back and forth anxiously from the open window and
Inez. "We need to make a hasty retreat." He replied. Speaking was
agony but then Ezra had to admit, he nothing he ever knew could keep him quiet.
The two of them hurried through the house and
reached the front door without incident. Ezra had discarded both the shotguns because
their weight was slowing him down and he had no idea where Nettie kept the rest
of the ammunition. He assumed in light of what had happened in the past 24
hours, the old woman had chosen to load both weapons in anticipation of the
danger that had caused the seven to flee the town of Four Corners. Ezra hoped
the lady was not seriously injured.
"Ezra! Inez!" Alex cried out as the
wagon came rushing forward from the direction of the barn where it and the
horses was kept. Alex was at the reins, forcing the gelding to slow as it ran
past them. Inez had no trouble jumping onto the back of the wagon and neither
did Ezra, but the pain in his neck was considerable and he knew that he was
bleeding again beneath his bandages. Only when he had scrambled onto the back
did he realise that Mary was not with them.
"Where’s Mary!" He demanded when he
discovered only Casey and Nettie in the wagon tray.
His response came in the form of another horse
thundering behind them. The grey stallion was charging up the path in pursuit
of them with Mary in the saddle riding hard to join them. Ezra let out a sigh
of relief that they had not done the unforgivable and forgotten the fair Mrs
Travis. Ezra would rather take his chances with the monster they were running
from, rather than explain how such a thing might have happened to Chris
Larabee. Ezra was certain no matter what the outcome; he would still be dead.
Suddenly, Ezra’s eyes widened as he saw the
Terminator make his appearance. He ran across the grass effortlessly, in an attempt
to cut them off, Ezra assumed, when just as abruptly, he came to a pause.
Producing a rifle, he took careful aim and to Ezra’s shock, the gambler
realised at what he was aiming.
"Mary, watch out!" Ezra shouted the
warning too late.
The bullet caught the horse in the rump but it was
enough for the animal to stop abruptly in full gallop. It kicked its hind legs
backward in pain, propelling Mary out of the saddle with little or no effort
whatsoever. Ezra’s heart stopped beating for a second when he heard the
terrible crunch of bone as she landed on the dirt. For a second that might as
well have been an hour for all he knew, no one could speak. Then as they saw
the Terminator advancing, everyone was prompted into action.
"Stop!" He heard Inez shout and Ezra was
practically jumping out of the wagon and running forward before the horse had
even come to a full stop. He was hardly aware of his own injuries as he raced
towards the blond woman who was sprawled across the dirt path. He skidded to
his knees upon reaching her and saw that Mary was out cold. He could not even
tell if she was breathing or not. However, with Terminator coming up the path,
running at full speed, Ezra knew he would not have time to find out. Scooping
her in his arms, Ezra started running towards the wagon, feeling his heart
pound in his chest as he struggled to keep ahead of the mechanical beast that
may have killed Mary Travis.
"Come on Ezra!" Inez urged him on, her
eyes staring behind him in obvious panic. Ezra did not look behind him and
forced himself forward, ignoring the pain and the heart that was unaccustomed
to such labour. When he reached the wagon, Inez was on hand to pull Mary out of
his arms into the tray as Ezra leapt in after her.
"GO! ALEX! GO!" Inez screamed as soon as
they were safely inside.
Ezra looked up to see the Terminator leap forward
as the wagon began to rumbled forward. The thick fingers that Ezra was so well
acquainted with grabbed wood. His feet were leaving trails in the dirt as the
wagon dragged him along and Ezra was prompted into action when he saw those
massive arms attempting to heave itself into the wagon with them. Reaching for
the nearest thing he could find, in this case a shovel, Ezra swung the tool
against the Terminator’s fingers. Whether or not the thing felt pain was a
mystery Ezra did not require answering for he did not stop striking the hands
holding on until the wood itself had crumbled and the Terminator was tumbling
away from the departing wagon.
Ezra let out a sigh of relief when he saw the
Terminator fade into the distance, no doubt, recovering quickly to take up the
pursuit. Ezra lay where he was for a moment, too exhausted to move once the
rush of adrenalin had subsided. He wondered how quickly the pain in his neck would
follow and had only a few seconds to ponder that question when he felt the
sickly moisture under his throat. Ezra had no idea what medical procedure Alex
had performed on him but knew for certain that it would almost definitely have
to be repeated.
"Is everyone all right back there!" Alex
called out as she continued the juggernaut pace of the wagon. She wanted to put
as much distance between them and that maniac they had just encountered.
Inez who was leaning over Mary Travis, met Ezra’s
gaze and shook her head with barely concealed tears. "No, Alex," she
said softly, "everyone is almost definitely not all right."
DISCLAIMER:
All the characters from the
"Magnificent Seven" TV series are property of Trilogy Entertainment,
The Mirisch Group, MGM Worldwide. The same goes for all characters from Time
Trax, which belong to Gary Nardino Productions Inc and Lorimar Television. All
characters and situation from Terminator and Terminator 2: Judgement Day is the
property of Carolco Pictures and Corolco International.
CONVERGENCE
Part Six
Future’s End
They had stopped at a way station a few hours
after leaving Nettie’s place and while everyone took the opportunity to rest
and stretch their legs; Darien felt the slow vibration of Selma’s mechanism
inside his coat pocket. The computer interface usually utilized this method of
alerting him to her presence when the issue to be discussed needed to be done
so in private. At the time, Darien had been having an interesting discussion
with the preacher Josiah about the state of religion in the future. Darien
found Josiah to be an extremely learned man, and tried not to insult his
intelligence by telling him what he wanted to hear instead of the reality of
the situation. Josiah had taken much of what Darien told him in stride, that
religion still held the belief if not the fear it once had. Josiah seemed to
believe it was a better mix.
When the vibration started, the 20th century lawman made a polite
excuse to go by himself and left the small diner where the others were currently
eating. The food was nothing fancy but it was hot, and after what they had been
through during the past 24 hours, was a welcome repast. Darien strode into the
open air, admiring the green plains and the mountains in the distance. In some
ways, he was gratified that he was able to enjoy its unspoiled splendor before
the stink of gasoline propelled vehicles in the air and big developers put
condominiums and theme parks where there ought to be nothing but wide open
spaces.
"What it is Selma?" Darien inquired
somewhat intrigued by this apparent need for secrecy. The others were aware of
her existence now, and although he was not about to flaunt the technology in
their faces because he guessed accurately they were uneasy with it, there was
no reason for Selma to contact him without audio mode.
"Captain, I searched through my data banks upon learning that Mary Travis
was at this moment with child and have found some conflicting
information."
"What’s there to be conflicted about?"
He asked because he understood the logic perfectly. "Skynet was a little
late. He sent the Terminator a little later than he should have. The child was
already conceived but it’s still at risk."
Selma paused and Darien had that bad feeling he
always experienced before she presented him with some disturbing news.
"Stop giving me radio silence, Selma." Darien said abruptly.
"What have you found?"
"No child was born to Chris Larabee and Mary
Travis during the year of 1878 or 1879. The children that become Kyle Reese’s
ancestors are not scheduled to be born for some time yet."
"But she’s pregnant!" Darien exclaimed
and quickly silenced himself when he noticed he was getting curious looks from
the other patrons of the way station.
"I am aware of the situation Captain but as I
said, the information is very clear on this point. Chris Larabee and Mary
Travis will marry soon enough, but not because of any child."
"That would mean…." The words died in
his mouth as the full implications of what Selma was attempting to tell him as
sympathetically as the machine was able. Darien glanced in the direction of the
diner, feeling a wave of pity for Chris Larabee at this moment.
"Do we know how Selma?" Darien asked
softly.
"Not at this time, I’m afraid Captain."
Selma offered with almost a note of sadness in her voice. "With the time
line in such a state of corruption, exact details are difficult to locate. It
could be happening right now at this moment, or even months away. There is a
nine month margin of error."
Suddenly Darien was struck with a terrible
thought. What if it was because of the Terminator? It could not be coincidence
that the Terminator had arrived at this point in time. In fact, it was almost
too much of coincidence for Darien to simply dismiss it, and this started him
on a different line of thought.
"Selma," he said after a few minutes
with such dark thoughts, "is there any way for the Terminator to know
where Mary is at this moment?"
"I am unable to provide a completely
satisfactory answer" she replied. "I do not understand its
programming parameters. If it has the ability to conduct interrogations to meet
its end, then it could well discover Mr. Dunne’s affiliation with the girl
Cassandra Wells. However, if I am to understand what Sarah Connor had reported
about the cybernetics’ behavior as being accurate, then I doubt it would use
interrogation as a matter of information retrieval."
Darien was not so optimistic. In fact, that bad
feeling was now reaching an apogee in new heights. "What about
Casey?" Darien pressed. "Anything about her on record that might give
away her relationship with JD Dunne?"
"I shall make a search." Selma replied
dutifully. After a few moments, she spoke again. "Captain, the archival
files on JD Dunne indicate that he remains in Four Corners permanently as its
law enforcement officer. It also mentions that his wife is Cassandra Wells who
is a resident of Four Corners."
"Which the Terminator will undoubtedly be aware
of as well!" Darien retorted, realizing how fatal a mistake they had made.
It had never occurred to him until now to take into account the future
relationships that might provide the Terminator the information to continue his
hunt. Suddenly, Darien knew that the Terminator was not on its way to Eagle
Bend.
He started running and hoped it was not too late already.
*********
Casey had never ridden so fast in her life or so
far on her own. However, the young woman knew that it was imperative that she
reach JD and the others in light of what had taken place earlier this morning.
At Ezra’s behest, they had proceeded to the Indian village where he knew Chano
and Kojay would welcome them and offer refuge while Alex tended to her injured
friends. The village was not very far away and it would allow them the time to
recuperate from this latest encounter with the thing that had nearly killed her
Aunt Nettie and Mary Travis.
As anticipated, Kojay, who owed a great debt to
Vin Tanner, was more than accommodating to his friends and the brave
newspaperwoman who often defended their rights in her paper. They also knew
Miss Styles because she had taken over Nathan’s medical examinations while he
had been injured some weeks before. Kojay had even provided Casey with a horse
once the decision was made to find the others. Ezra had wanted to go, but the
bandage soaking with blood around his throat determined that he was in no
condition to ride. In truth, Casey was almost as good a rider as JD, and she
was capable of making the trip cross-country with a fresh horse in record time
if necessary.
As the palomino mare moved across the plains as if
she were sailing over the expanse of golden stalks of grass, Casey kept worries
of Aunt Nettie out of her mind. Even though Miss Styles had assured her that
her aunt had suffered a concussion and would merely require rest, she could not
forget the blood she had seen gushing from that terrible wound on her head. It
boiled Casey’s blood to know that she had been helpless to do anything while
the intruder had done its worst. With the exception of Alex and her, it
appeared none of them had escaped the encounter unscathed.
She marveled at how Ezra Standish was able to rise
to the occasion; despite his weakened state and protect them. She had always
thought little of the man, even though JD felt otherwise. Ever since he had
come with the seven to protect the farm and then claimed menial work was not
for him, Casey had made up her mind that he was nothing more than a insipid
city dweller. When she had left the village, he was being placed under the
ministrations of the medicine man who was seeing to the torn stitches on his
throat since Alex was otherwise occupied with Mary.
Casey knew without having to hear it that Mary was
very badly injured. The fall she had taken was nasty enough and it was minor
miracle that she had not snapped her neck. Casey had seen better riders than
Mary suffer similar dismounts with tragic results. Mary had been unconscious
throughout the journey to the village, and Alex had told Casey to take the
reins while the doctor examined her. Casey had heard something of the
conversation with Inez and knew that Mary’s condition was a great deal worse
than anyone had believed. It appeared to the young woman that they were privy
to some information they were not at liberty to disclose. Casey wondered what
it might be.
She thought about the intruder and remembered how
dispassionately it had stared at her while it held her off the ground. Even
now, she felt her skin throb slightly at the bruises left by uts powerful
fingers. Ut had tossed her aside as if she was less than nothing, not even
worthy of a bullet. It frightened her to think that JD might have to face it
with the others. Ezra had chosen to run instead of facing it, and Casey remembered
JD once telling her that Ezra was very fast with a gun. He might even almost be
faster than Chris if they ever agreed to a showdown to find out.
Anything that could frighten the gambler gave
Casey cause to worry if JD was going to face it.
*******
Darien burst into the diner and sought Chris
immediately. The gunslinger was at the table with the rest of his companions,
downing the contents of his coffee cup. His expression as always was somber and
he was deep in thought. Even though the conversation around him was thick,
Chris did not add his voice to it. He preferred to listen most of the time, but
today he had other things on his mind.
"Chris we have a problem." Darien said
coming to the head of the table since Chris was seated at the far end.
Chris looked up sharply. "What sort of
problem."
"Its my fault really," he said wondering
if any apology might ever be enough. "It never occurred to me."
"What?" Chris rose to his feet and
Darien now had the undivided attention of everyone at the table.
"The Terminator may be able to track Mary
back to Nettie’s farm." Darien did not want to disclose any more of the
future than necessary, but he had to prove how he had come to this assumption.
Leaning over to Chris, Darien whispered quietly in the gunslinger's ear at how
JD’s future history might provide the Terminator a clue to Mary’s whereabouts.
There was no need for JD to know any more about the future than what Darien had
already revealed.
Without saying another word, Chris bolted out of
the room past the stunned faces of his companions.
"We got to go back." Vin said without
any doubt whatsoever. For Chris to run out of here like that, whatever Darien
had told him was quite convincing.
"Wait a minute." Darien spoke up.
"We don’t know for sure." He did not want to fill them in on what he
had learned from Selma about Mary’s pregnancy. "I think some of us should
keep going to Eagle Bend because Billy has to be protected."
"Right," Buck agreed. "Someone’s
got to tell the judge what’s going on."
"All right," Vin thought quickly because
they usually looked to the young man for guidance whenever Chris was not
around. Vin himself could not understand it, and would have been mildly
surprised by their answer had he chose to ask. "Buck, you, Josiah, Nathan
and JD keep going to Eagle Bend. Take the wagon with you."
"I’m coming with you!" JD protested,
full of worry for Casey even though he was not voicing it. In truth, he did not
have to. They all knew his feelings for the young woman, but JD was young and
hot-tempered. Despite himself, Vin knew that JD was not the right company to be
around Chris in the gunslinger’s present state of mind.
"No you’re not." Vin said firmly.
"We don’t rightly know what’s going on out there. It may be nothing, and
if it is, then that monster is still on its way to Eagle Bend and Buck and the
others are going to need all the help they can get. I swear, we’ll send word as
soon as we know."
JD was still resistant to the idea but Vin knew
the young man would capitulate eventually. Although he was young and impulsive,
JD had a good head on his shoulders, good enough to know what was the right
thing to do. He stared at Vin hard, trying to draw support form the tracker’s
confidence before finally letting out a sigh of agreement.
"Okay Vin" he nodded. "I’ll go with
them."
"Good," Vin smiled in approval at JD,
squeezing his shoulder gently. "Darien and I will go after Chris." He
glanced over his shoulder and knew even without seeing it for himself that
Chris was already on his way to collect his black gelding. The best that he and
Darien could hope to do was keep up, because they were certainly not going to
slow him down.
"Vin." Buck said as they started to
leave the table towards the door. Buck looked down at the younger man trying to
articulate what was in his mind. He remembered how Chris had been after Sarah
and Adam had died. Chris had withdrawn into a dark abyss then and had never
really emerged from it. If he were to lose Mary and their unborn child, there
was no telling what Chris was capable of doing in his grief. "If the worst
has happened, be careful."
Vin nodded in understanding, knowing all too well
what overwhelming grief could do to a person. It was one of the reasons why he
had chosen to avoid human contact until now. The pain of losing someone forever
was not an experience he wished, and even though it ached losing Charlotte, Vin
knew that pain was nothing in comparison to the agony Chris would endure if
Mary was gone.
"I hear you." Vin replied quietly,
praying secretly that it had not come to that already. Chris Larabee insane
with grief could only be likened to a rabid dog. Vin remembered how he had been
when Chris came across news of his family’s murderer for the first time in
three years. It brought out a side to him that put the fear of God into most of
his friends, even though none had spoken of it to each other. Chris barely
walked the line between good and bad, who knew what kept him balanced in favor
of one. Even Buck, who had known him longer than the others, was unable to
explain it. All Vin knew for certain was that he did not wish to find out.
*******
After all this time he remembered it as clearly as
if it had happened yesterday.
He often wished he might have been spared that
cruelty, but the passage of time had not lessened the clarity of what he
remembered. Sometimes he was almost tempted to believe that it became more
pronounced with each year that passed until the memory of Sarah and Adam’s
faces was obscured by the tragedy that had taken them. Even now it was hard for
Chris to picture her face in his mind, since all the pictures of her had been
destroyed in the fire. There were nights were he simply sat and tried to recall
what she looked like before drinking himself into a stupor when he could not
remember.
He could not even remember why he and Buck had
gone to Mexico, but he knew he had not been back since. For some reason, Chris
could not force himself south of the border after that day. What awaited him at
home after a night spent in that forgotten Mexican town had taken him
completely by surprise. The familiar path meandering through the green of his
land that eventually led home had offered no warning to the tragedy that had
taken place during the night. Only when Chris had seen the tendrils of black
smoke diminishing in the light of day, did he realize that something had
happened.
He had been aware of nothing as his horse sped
forward through the trees, not until he reached the place where his house had
been, occupied by the charred remains of wood and glass that was still
smoldering. Chris was conscious of Buck saying something as he fell down on his
knees, staring at the debris and knowing that in the darkness of black ash and
cooling embers, were also Sarah and Adam. He and Buck had been forced to wait
until the heat had subsided before they went searching for the bodies.
What remained of his wife and son when he finally
found them was burned into his memory. For weeks after he had woken up
screaming into the night, plagued with nightmares that still had not vanished
completely. To fight the dreams, he had started drinking heavily. There was a
point where he was drinking a bottle at night to help him sleep, and Chris
shuddered to think what would have happened if Buck had not been there to rip
him out of that abyss. Their friendship had suffered irreparable damage because
of that and was now a shadow of what it had been.
He knew he was capable of existing. He just had
not believed he could live until he met Mary Travis.
Almost from the moment he saw her facing those men
who were hell bent on stringing up Nathan for some imagined sin, he knew his
heart was no longer his. She had taken it as quickly as Sarah had, and although
Chris fought his feelings for Mary, he knew he had lost the battle virtually
from the very beginning. Chris was almost terrified of her at times, terrified
because the feelings she brought out in him were so passionate and intense he
could not imagine the loss if she were suddenly torn from him as Sarah and Adam
had been.
When he finally succumbed and allowed her into his
life, Chris had marveled at how easily she could drive the demons away with the
overwhelming might of her love for him. He basked in her, reveled in every
moment they spent together, and until he learnt she was carrying his child, he
had not believed it was possible to find such joy twice in a lifetime.
Which was why he knew with utmost certainty that
if he lost her there would be no recovery. He would die from the sheer despair
of it. As he rode through the sun burnt plains of the Territory, trying to
reach her before the inevitable stole her away, Chris prayed for the first time
in too long.
Please, God, let her live. I can’t go through
this again.
He was vaguely aware of Vin Tanner calling out to
him in the distance, but Chris did not care to answer. He was pushing his
gelding faster than he should have, but each second that kept him away from
Mary was too long. He could hear the thunder of Vin’s horse behind him, but
Chris had no desire to stop. If they could keep up with him, so be it.
If not, keep out of his way because he was going
to reach her if he had to kill himself to do it.
**********
Casey had been riding for a few hours when she
became aware of hoof beats coming towards her at a fast and furious pace. Her
own joints were sore from the ride and she wished she could stop, especially
since she was now moving into unknown territory far away from home. Casey had
never been this far away from Four Corners alone, and despite her youthful
bravado she felt some measure of apprehension. She was wearing her work clothes
and from a distance looked like a young boy making the ride of his life.
She had taken this path at Ezra’s request because
the gambler knew that this was the most direct route to Eagle Bend. From
previous experience, Ezra knew Chris preferred this route because there were
way stations for food and places to water the horses during the journey. If
Casey hoped to catch up with the party of seven on their way to intercept the
Terminator at Eagle Bend, this would be her best chance. Casey looked around
for the signs of the horses approaching from the other direction. Tucked in her
pants was Ezra’s small derringer. It could only take two bullets but there was
a handful of ammunition in her coat pocket. She felt comforted by its presence,
even though she could not imagine using the weapon against a person. She could
shoot well enough, but she had never drawn a gun on another person. She hoped
she would not be forced to now.
Suddenly, she saw the first rider breaking through
the foliage as he rode across the meadow. Casey felt her heart swell at the
sight of the familiar black duster and gelding coming in her direction. It was
Chris!
"Chris!" Casey cried out as he thundered across the field, looking as
if he was not about to stop for anything.
Chris Larabee looked up, recognizing the voice if
not the face. Casey saw his eyes widening upon the realization of her identity
before pulling up the reins to stop his gelding. The horse neighed loudly as
its head was pulled up sharply, lifting its front legs off the dirt in protest.
The horse was blowing softly as Chris dismounted and hurried towards her,
almost running. Casey climbed off the palomino once it had stopped, never
feeling happier to see the imposing man in black. Like most of the women in
town, Chris intimidated her with his imposing manner and his somber features.
If there had been any doubt in his mind that Mary
was in danger, it was more or less swept away when he saw Casey Wells.
Instinctively he knew the girl would have ridden this far from home for one
reason only, to find the seven. "Is Mary all right?" Chris strode
towards her and grabbed her shoulders hard when she did not answer him quickly
enough.
"She’s hurt really bad!" Casey said
unashamed to show her fear at his manner. She began to recount her tale in a
flurry of chatter, telling Chris how the stranger had appeared that morning and
hurt Aunt Nettie. How Ezra Standish had helped them escape and how Mary had
been throw off the horse when she was attempting to escape.
Chris listened, his jaw tightening with every word
that escaped Casey’s quivering lips. She had seen Chris Larabee angry before,
but not like this. His eyes became very hard, so hard that it was difficult for
Casey to meet his gaze. She had seen coyotes with eyes like that and it
unsettled her. For a long while, he merely stood listening, saying not a word
while she vented the full details of her story. It was a long while before he
spoke to her again.
"Vin is going to be coming this way
soon." Chris replied after a long while. "I want you wait until he
arrives." He started away from her, retreating to the gelding once more.
"Where are you going?" Casey called out,
frightened of his manner, but more afraid to have him leave her alone.
"I’m going to see Mary first," he said
quietly. "Then I’m going to kill that fucking thing."
**********
He arrived at the village a few hours later, his
insides still twisted by the fact that Mary had been harmed. In his worst
moments during the ride, Chris was gripped by the terrible fear that he would
arrive too late to see her before she slipped away from him, as he had been too
late for Sarah and Adam. The Indians were not surprised to see his arrival, but
knew the look in his eyes as he dismounted the horse and walked through their
village. All knew Chris Larabee as being the friend of Vin Tanner, but they
also knew him as the undisputed leader of the seven and one of the most
fearsome men to carry a gun. In either case, they were not about to delay his
journey to his woman.
Chano wasted no time showing him to the group of
tepees that currently gave shelter to Mary Travis and those who had come with
her. Chano gave him the news that Mary was still among the living and during
the few seconds it took for him to be shown the way there, Chris made the
journey unaware of anything but the relief that uncoiled the knots in him. She
was alive!
As he approached the tent where Mary was, Inez was
seated cross-legged in front of the crackling fire. She looked up as he
arrived, showing little more than a faint smile as he saw the terrible bruise
against her cheek. Something had hit her incredibly hard and the flesh beneath
her eye was engorged with blood, purple pressed against her skin. Chris winced
at the sight of such blight on a lovely face like hers and only when he knelt
down and placed his hand against her cheek, did he realize it was glistening
with tears, not swelling.
"That looks bad" he said softly.
"Its nothing." Inez replied, dismissing
the inquiry as unimportant because it was nothing.
"Mary?" Chris was almost afraid to ask.
For a brief instance, he entertained the thought that she might have died after
Chano had spoken to him, no matter the reassurances the chief’s son had made to
him that Mary’s condition was serious but no longer life threatening.
"She broke her arm and several ribs,"
Inez replied with great difficulty as she glanced in the direction of the tent.
"Alex said that she has a concussion and that she was very lucky she had
not broken her neck."
That was more to it than that. Inez was not so
distressed because of some broken bones and a reassurance that something worse
had been avoided. The pain in her eyes was not just for Mary, Chris guessed in
a flash of insight, but for him as well.
"The baby?" He asked, his voice almost a
hoarse whisper. He knew the answer even before she responded.
"I’m so sorry Chris." She answered
meeting his gaze because she had to look a man in the eye to tell him his
unborn child was dead.
Chris blinked. He felt his breath catch in his
throat as the sense of loss overtook him. A multitude of things flashed in his
mind - of those moments with tiny fingers enclosing his fingers tips, a
toothless smile, a soft gurgle of laughter. All those things that would never
be now because the child was gone, killed before it had even a chance to be.
Chris forced the pain away because he knew he had to be strong. He had to be
strong because if he felt like this, he could hardly imagine what Mary must have
been feeling now.
"She’s in there." Inez gestured to
closed tent flap. "She’s awake."
Chris stepped forward to the tent, not needing to
ask how Inez knew this without being able to see inside its leather confines.
He could hear Mary from here.
********
She was lying on her side, stripped down to her
undergarments, partially covered with a blanket that hid nothing of her
injuries. Her arm was wrapped in an uncomfortable looking splint of wood and
bandages and he could see the break clearly in the discoloration of her creamy
skin at the forearm. The signs of her fall were marked across her skin in
lacerations and ugly bruises. It infuriated him seeing her in this state. She
was lying on her uninjured side because he could see under the lace of her
camisole, the rough material of bandages Alex had taped around her broken ribs.
Judging by how much of her torso had been wrapped by the material, Chris
estimated a break of at least three of four bones on the rib cage. Suddenly he
was grateful that she had not been killed. He could only imagine how hard she
had landed when she was thrown off the horse.
Mary was curled up into a ball, her knees were
pulled up to her chest, and she looked very much like child at that moment. Her
gold hair splayed across her face, as if Mary were trying to hide beneath the
canopy of silken strands. However, even through the gold over face, Chris was
able to see that her lovely features were covered in cuts and bruises. They
formed an uneven patch from the side of her face down to the arm that was
trapped in wood. She barely took any notice of him as she wept quietly. Her
sobs were soft and each breath drawn to weep again was a knife stabbing at his
heart.
"Mary" he called out, letting her know
he was here at last.
She looked up at him, brushing the strands out of her eyes so that she could
see him. Her face was red, not just from the crying but also from the fall. Her
cheeks were scraped and slightly swollen but it was the eyes that caught his
attention most of all. For an instant, he was reminded of a rabbit caught in a
trap, waiting to die. Terrified, in agony, and yet completely resigned to the
end that was coming. Her blue grey eyes screamed at him in despair and Chris
started to feel his own tears coming. She held his gaze for a moment before
looking away, seeming as if she was truly unable to face him. Her sobs had
subsided as he approached her and knelt down beside the soft skins that made up
her resting-place.
"The baby." She said simply, barely able
to keep the tears from bubbling to the surface again at the mere mention of the
word.
"I know." Chris responded quickly,
wishing to spare her the pain of telling him. Chris eased gently onto the
ground, resting on his elbow as he stretched out alongside her. She needed to
feel his touch but did not have the strength to sit upright. Considering what
she had been through, Chris did not want her to even try. He reached for her
uninjured hand, savoring the warmth of her skin as her fingers encircled his.
Chris heard her release a sigh of relief when she squeezed it weakly.
"I’m sorry." She started to say, her
voice was shaking and he knew she was trying not to cry. "I should have
listened to Inez. I should have got out of there sooner."
"You didn’t know." Chris said, utterly
unaware of what she was talking about but not caring. What had happened was not
her fault, and he would die before letting her think that way. It broke his
heart to hear the agony in her voice, but Chris knew nothing of the words that
could ease this kind of pain. In some ways, he could mourn the sorrows of a
would be father, but the child was something she had carried inside her, to
whom she had an intimate connection that he would never understand. Chris would
be there for her, but he would never truly understand the real intensity of
what she was enduring.
"I wanted it so much." she whispered
softly, imploring him with her eyes to believe him. Despite all the
apprehension she had felt initially, Mary knew deep inside there was never a
question of not wanting the child. How could she not want anything that was him
and her? "Even when I was scared, I still wanted it. I swear Chris, I
really did."
"I know that Mary," he said trying to
convince her that he believed her with doubt or hesitation. He could see the
guilt in her eyes, the terrible self-loathing that had started to creep within
her that perhaps she might have allowed this to happen because of her earlier
fears. "I wanted it too. It would have been beautiful Mary," he
smiled with reassurance, trying to will his strength into her. He would have
sold his soul then and there if it would mean taking away her terrible pain.
Until this moment, Chris Larabee had not believed that there could be anything
worse than losing Mary Travis. Now he knew better. "It would have been
beautiful like you."
"Oh Chris, what have I done to the
future?" She stared him wide eyed at the sudden realization of what the loss
of this child would mean to their present situation. "I’ve ruined
everything!"
Chris refused to let her continue. She already had
enough guilt on her conscience without having the added burden of believing
that as well. "Mary, you didn’t do anything to the future." he said
firmly. "You and I decide our fate based on what we want, not because of
fancy tales that we have no idea if they are true or not. Everything we do from
here on makes that future and we will do it at our own pace and our time. The
future is not set Mary, it is what we make of it."
She almost believed him but the pain inside her
was still too raw for it to aid her in any way. The consistency of the physical
part of it only served to remind her continuously of the child that had died inside
her body. Mary kept Chris’ hand against her cheek, cradling it against her
bruised skin as she descended into a fresh bout of tears. Chris allowed her the
chance to vent her sorrow because she needed to cry and feel and scream and
kick if necessary to heal herself. She needed to feel all these things if she
was ever to get on with the rest of her life.
"Mary," he said softly, breaking through her tears because she needed
to hear what he had to say. He knew much of her pain came from the guilt of her
earlier anxieties about marriage and the baby. If he did not say the words now,
it would burden her soul until it destroyed them both. "Mary I love
you." He made sure she was meeting his gaze when he said those words.
Despite how shallow they may seem in the face of her loss, it was important
that she heard them. Although she was still crying, Mary’s eyes were fixed
firmly on Chris.
"I know you wanted the baby. I wanted it
too." He felt the emotion threaten to overwhelm him when he thought of
what they both lost. "But the baby was not all there is to us. I know it
hurts, but we can get through this. I won’t let you face this alone Mary, I
promise. I can’t go back to the way it was, when everything inside me was cold
and empty. I can’t live that way again if you are gone. I need you to live
Mary, more than I need any baby. I can’t imagine what it would be like if I
were to lose you too." His voice was very quiet, almost a whisper but he
knew she heard every word of that plea.
Whatever restraint Mary had dissolved completely
and she leaned towards him suddenly, burying her face in the crook of his
shoulder as she released the full torrent of her grief. Chris wrapped his arms
around her; careful not to hurt her broken arm as he held her close while she
sobbed away all the pain and heartache she had been trying to hold back
unsuccessfully. Chris held her tight, keeping her within his embrace, and more
importantly, allowing her to know that he would never let her go, not for
anything in the world. While she was with him he would protect her and keep
her, because without her Chris Larabee would rather be dead.
*******
Alexandra Styles did not feel like a doctor today.
She barely felt alive. At this moment, Ezra Standish was sleeping soundlessly
in the tent, half drugged and exhausted by what his injured body had been
called on to perform when he had saved all their lives. She had cleaned his
exposed throat, sewn the torn stitches and sedated him because he deserved the
rest of slumber. Alex watched him sleeping for a while, thinking to herself how
innocent he seemed at this moment. The serenity in his face reminded her of the
reason she cared so much for him, an admission she did not admit to himself,
even if she confessed to the feeling. He was filled with so many beautiful
dreams, as her father had been filled with dreams. The content of Ezra’s were
more material and glittery, but the substance was the same and that was what
had drawn her to him from that very first moment.
She let him sleep and checked on Nettie Wells who
was resting comfortably, even if the old woman felt somewhat disturbed that her
niece had made the long journey to Eagle Bend alone while she was taking refuge
in an Indian village. Nevertheless, showing the resilience that came only after
a life time on this earth, Nettie took the news in stride and allowed her tired
body to get some well needed rest in light of the wounds she had received at
the hands of the stranger.
Alex emerged into the open air to see Vin Tanner
and Darien Lambert already in attendance. After greetings were made all around,
she realized that Chris Larabee was here too. Knowing where Chris was at
present brought the real reason for her depression to the surface. There were
rules that every physician had to understand, no matter how skilled or
unskilled they were. It was a rule almost as binding as the Hippocratic oath to
which all doctors swore. She had broken it a dozen times over since her arrival
in Four Corners, but never had she feel it stab at her with such acuteness as
at this moment.
Alex wandered away without anyone noticing because
she could not bear to face them when she felt like such an utter failure. She
kept telling herself that she should have been able to save Mary’s child.
Somehow, she should have searched her books and her skills to find a way to
save the unborn baby on which Mary had placed so much hope for the future. She
had not even needed to tell Mary the news about the miscarriage; the widow had
looked in her eyes and knew it.
She walked through the village, ignoring the eyes
that were looking at her as she moved through their community. At that moment,
Alex felt like there were too many people in the world and for some reason they
all seemed to be turning an accusatory eye in her direction. She half expected
someone to point a finger and scream the word she heard echoing repeatedly in
her head.
Failure!
She stopped walking when there was no more village
left to escape, when the voices behind her seemed far away and there was only
the dusty plains filled with its tumbleweeds and dry grass awaiting her. Alex
paused and took a deep breath, feeling as if there was no more air to breathe.
She could not show her grief before the others because a doctor was supposed to
maintain a professional detachment. If she could not show them confidence in
her abilities, what right did she expect them to trust her to save their lives.
For four years that lesson had been drilled into her head, more persistently
because men did not believe a woman was capable of reining her emotions. Alex
had showed them all by maintaining control always, having to be twice as good
to even be considered competent.
"Are you all right Alex?" She heard a
voice ask.
Alex spun around, wondering whom it was that could not leave her alone and then
was hardly surprised when she found that it was none other than Vin Tanner. For
some reason, he always seemed to sneak up on her without notice. It had to be
tracker in him she supposed.
"I’m fine, thank you." She said calmly
although she wanted him gone. Alex did not have the energy for another sparring
match with Vin Tanner, no matter how entertaining it might be to cross swords
with him on occasion. "I just need a moment alone."
Vin surveyed the landscape before them, devoid of
any life except the buzzards, scorpions and rattlers. "You picked a good
place."
"Go away." Alex retorted sharply,
wanting him to leave so she could wallow in the solitude and compose herself.
She could not do it while having to maintain this facade of professionalism for
his benefit.
"I’m going." Vin replied quietly.
"I just thought you might need to talk."
"What could I possibly have to talk about to
you?" She glared at him. "You barely think I’m competent enough to do
anything!"
"I didn’t say that." Vin replied and
knew that in every unspoken way he had actually done so. However, he could not
bring himself to admit it.
"Who am I kidding," Alex turned away.
"I couldn’t even save Mary’s baby."
"Come on now," Vin returned quickly,
understanding what was at the heart of all this ambivalence. Their arguments in
the past had always possessed an underlying note of good humor but he sensed
none of that now. He had always seen her in complete control of herself, always
composed and ready to help. Until the night before, he had never even imagined
she could be so vulnerable inside. "That ain’t your fault. You couldn’t
have done anything if it weren’t meant to be."
"That is such a load of crap!" Alex
swore with uncharacteristic fury. "I am a doctor. I heal the sick. I
should have been able to do something!"
"If you don’t mind me saying so ma’am,"
he retorted, unwilling to let her torture herself with this. "You ain’t
God and you can’t keep people from dying, no matter how smart you think you
are."
Alex knew he was right. She could not understand how this barely housebroken
tracker in his skins and obtuse manner could make such an accurate assertion,
but he was right, she had to give him that. Doctors were as human as the next
person, and sometimes the ability to heal was not absolute. She had to
understand that. "I’m sorry." she said turning away from him. "I
had no right to take it out on you."
"I didn’t mind." he remarked. "It’s
the first time I’ve been the one doing the telling."
She gave him a filthy look filled with the sarcasm
of old fire. "Enjoy it while it lasts Mr. Tanner." She said with a
contemptuous smile. "You are never going to experience the moment
again." With that, she brushed past him and returned to the village, since
it was obvious solitude was not on the agenda any time soon.
Vin let her pass and muttered under his breath
incoherently before following her. "I wouldn’t count on it."
**********
It was time to finish this once and for all.
By the time Chris had emerged from Mary’s tent to
face his friends he knew that much for certain. He was sick and tired of
running from a mechanical monster that had nearly delivered a mortal blow to
the only person who gave him reason to live. Chris also knew he was not going
to condemn Mary to a life where it was necessary for her to hide away in
despair, from everything she loved and knew, when they were the only things
that might ease the pain. For that reason alone, Chris was going to find the
Terminator and then he was going to destroy it. He had never been surer of
anything in his life than he was at this moment.
"Chris, I’m sorry." Vin said upon seeing
him. The news of Mary’s miscarriage was known to all of them, and Vin had been
uncertain how to approach his friend. The words of warning Buck had offered
before they had left the way station returned to haunt Vin Tanner most potently
now. It disturbed him to stare into Chris’ eyes and see that they were almost
black.
Chris merely nodded in acknowledgment of the
attempt, but in truth he wanted to hear no apologies or condolences. His own
pain could wait until he was alone or there was a bottle of whisky in which to
drown it. Right now, he had larger concerns on his mind. There was much to do
and he wanted to get started immediately. Glancing in Darien’s direction, Chris
wondered if the man from the future had some idea of what would happen with
Mary’s pregnancy. However, he soon discarded the thought as being irrelevant to
the issue at hand. It did not matter whether Darien knew or not because it was
too late, the baby was gone and all that remained for Chris to do was find it
and kill it before the monster did anything worse.
"I’m through running from this thing."
he announced as he glared at Darien.
Darien could see the cold ruthlessness behind Chris Larabee’s eyes and knew
that he did not want to contradict that statement. "What have you got in
mind?"
"Do you think it will go after Billy
now?" Chris asked again.
"Well," Darien looked around the rustic
setting. "It could not possibly track you down here." In truth,
Darien had Selma search all the information on the seven thoroughly after
underestimating the Terminator earlier. Even though Chris did not blame him for
it, he could tell the gunslinger was not about to tolerate any further mistakes.
Chris Larabee was not simply angry, he was killer angry.
"Everything else in Four Corners is a dead end so it will widen its search
parameters. I’d say yeah, it’ll go after Billy now."
"Good." Chris nodded, counting on that
information because he had a plan. "Get some food and rest." He said
to Vin and Darien. "We’ll ride in an hour."
"Back to Eagle Bend?" Vin guessed.
"Yeah." Chris replied and went towards Alex who was examining Inez’
bruised eye. With all the injuries she had been forced to deal with, Inez’ eye
had almost been an afterthought.
"I need to get going in an hour." he
explained to the two women. "I‘m trusting Mary in both your hands until we
get back."
"Don’t worry Chris," Inez replied
because she was more familiar with Chris than Alex was. "We’ll make sure
she’s okay. You’re going after that thing?" It was more of a statement
than an actual question.
"Yes I am." He said through gritted
teeth, trying not to think about the Terminator or what it had done to Mary and
all his friends. "How’s Ezra?" He asked Alex.
"Resting comfortably" she answered
automatically. "He should be up and about in a few hours."
"Let him rest" Chris instructed, knowing
Ezra would want to be in this final assault. Unfortunately, the leader of the
seven would be unable to accommodate him in this instance. "He’s done
enough." It was true. From what Casey had told him earlier, Ezra was
responsible for the escape of all the women present, Mary included. Despite
being wounded himself, Ezra had retrieved Mary after her fall and for that he
was grateful to the gambler. As much as Ezra would hate to admit it, he needed
mending after all that effort.
Chris focused his rage into a thin line of
singular concentration. In the last few minutes, a plan had formed in his head.
With the weapons Darien had brought from the future, he knew he would still be
gambling with his life, but Chris wanted to see it burn after what it did to
Mary. For her, he would destroy this thing once and for all, so she need never
have to fear losing another child again.
He owed her that much.
******
The Terminator entered the town of Eagle Bend in
the early hours of the morning following its encounter with the secondary
target. With her escape, it was once again forced to widen the parameters of
the search since the primary target had no exploitable weakness it could use to
extrapolate the present whereabouts of Chris Larabee.
Unlike Four Corners, Eagle Bend was a much larger
township, thriving with a number of industries other than the more obvious
rural pursuits. As the Terminator walked through the streets, it was lost in a
sea of bodies that had no idea of what it was that walked amongst them. If the
cyborg had been capable of feeling human emotion, it would have found some
measure of distaste in the lengthy amount of time it had taken to arrive in
Eagle Bend. The disadvantage of travelling through this time period was the
decided lack of useful transportation. Although it was quite possible for the
Terminator to run all the way to the growing metropolis, it expended too much
time and allowed a wider margin of escape for the prey. As animals had
instincts that could not be calculable by Skynet even in the 21st
century, no Terminator was able to hide itself from the lower order organisms.
Dogs had been employed by John Conner’s ilk to seek out the cyborgs that
attempted infiltration of their underground refuges.
In this time frame, it made travel on horseback
absolutely impossible. As its first encounter with the human that it would
later identify as one of Larabee’s companions had proved, equine mammals had
the same aversion to cybernetic organisms as the canine variety. Thus, the
Terminator was forced to make its way to Sweetwater, where the mass transit
system of the time would ensure that it would be delivered to Eagle Bend where
Billy Travis was known to reside. Its files indicated that this human was only
a child and that the secondary target was its birth mother. Without doubt, the
retrieval of the child would bring her out of hiding. The Terminator and Skynet
knew that where Mary Travis was to be found, Chris Larabee would not be far
behind.
The Terminator made its way through the tree-lined
streets where Judge Orin Travis and his wife had a residence. It was a nice
neighborhood, none of which the Terminator could appreciate in any shape or
form. According to its calendar, today was a weekend and so the hunter knew the
prey would be at home. As it continued up the pathway, along the rows of white
picket fences and children playing in yards, the Terminator collected the
visual data as it was programmed to do. Under normal circumstances the
information would be transmitted to Skynet after completion of the mission,
however, in this case, Skynet was thirsty for any byte of information that
would assist in the annihilation of the enemy.
It turned up the walkway of the house on the
corner. An animal was tethered to a hitching post before the front gate. It
neighed its dislike in a loud whinny as the Terminator walked past, kicking its
spindly legs up and down as it passed by the animal, with little more than a
glance. The black gelding stamped its hooves in protest until the Terminator
was far enough away that its scent was no longer frightened the animal.
Its internal sensors immediately detected a
familiar DNA signature. Without further hesitation, it removed the weapon
concealed under its coat of tanned animal hide. Aside from the shotgun in its
hand, the Terminator had several smaller handguns on its person, but it
selected the more efficient and deadly of its arsenal first. Larabee was in the
house. It did not matter how or why, the Terminator was uninterested in the
details. The primary target was here and the hunt could resume once again. Its
sensors detected no other life forms in the house and there was a moment of
pause, it you will, where it considered this unusual happenstance. Why was
Larabee here alone?
After a moment of calculation, it selected the
most obvious response. An attempt at deception. However, the discovery of the
threat did not end its advance. The Skynet part of its reasoning was exerting
full control, ignoring tactical information for the more immediate desperation
to complete the mission and save its existence. The Terminator advanced up the
path, past the rose shrubs that flanked the paved way to the front door. With
one swift kick it was able to bring down the heavy oak door with a thundering
crash. Torn hinges hung precariously from the damaged wood as the Terminator
entered the premises.
Larabee was close.
The sensors were starting to become ineffective by
the close proximity of the target. The Terminator struggled to narrow the beam
of location as it made its way through the house with its elegant antique
furniture and lace curtains. The odor of fresh flowers followed it as it
crossed the length of the house in an instant. It was almost to the kitchen
when suddenly its audio sensors detected noise behind it. The Terminator swung
around and found itself staring at the primary target, glaring at it from the
doorway of the front entrance.
"I hear you’ve been looking for me."
Chris Larabee said glaring at it through narrowed eyes.
The Terminator reacted with lighting fast
reflexes, swinging the shotgun into firing position. Before it could squeeze
the trigger Chris had darted through the door and was running down the walkway
the cyborg had just traveled. The Terminator fired anyway, the trajectory of
shotgun pellets smashing a hole through the wooden door frame and sending
splinters in all directions. However, the primary target had fled. The
Terminator saw his life signs placing great distance between himself and the
mechanical assassin.
Without further delay, the Terminator ran out of
the house and saw Chris mounting the horse that had been tethered outside. It
raised its gun to fire again, when it saw Chris dig his spurs into the
gelding’s sides and send it bolting forward. The horse took off through the
street and the Terminator leapt over the fence and was able to keep pace with
it. Unlike the wagon earlier, the speed of the animal was hindered by the urban
location with people crossing the streets and other animals moving up and down
in a flotilla of obstacles that served to keep Larabee in sight of the
Terminator.
Very quickly, the horse and rider had reached the
crowded main street of Eagle Bend with the Terminator still able to keep the
primary target in its line of sight. The animal had difficulty weaving through
the Saturday morning crowd of housewives and children who were indulging
themselves in the weekend opportunity to shop and play respectively. Food vendors
were out in force, along with newspaper boys as the township of Eagle Bend came
alive with the morning. No one paid any attention to the man in black riding a
black gelding through town. Eagle Bend was not so far removed from its frontier
days that it had forgotten the rabble-rousers and cowboys for which the west
had become infamous. Shoot outs, although rare, were still a part of its
culture, and while people ducked for cover at the sight of the Terminator
chasing Chris on foot, it was nothing that they had not seen or remembered from
the town’s earlier days.
Chris looked over his shoulder and saw the
Terminator keeping up with his horse. Despite himself, he could not help
feeling a little awed at the speed of the mechanical man. As soon as it came into
contact with people, it began shoving them aside with little regard. The air
came alive with the screams of outrage that trailed the Terminator in its wake.
The gelding turned the corner of the dirt street and for the first time, Chris
could see the silhouette of the locomotive in the distance. At this moment, the
train was idling as it waited for the cleaning crew to arrive to prepare the
carriages for the next leg of its journey. At this moment, Buck and Darien were
ensuring that no one was on the locomotive when he and the Terminator arrived.
Chris dismounted the gelding as he reached the
station, barely looking behind him to see if the Terminator was following
because he knew it was. Its pursuit of him was almost human in its
relentlessness. Chris pushed his way through the passengers who were lingering
at the ticket booth. Leaping through the turnstile, he stepped onto the empty
platform. Until the cars were sanitized, the paying public would not be allowed
access to the train. However, no one attempted to stop him because Darien had
neutralized most of the station staff by injecting them with bullets that acted
like sedatives. When they awoke again, they would find the train missing with
no idea of who had taken it.
Crushing gravel underfoot as he ran towards the
train, Chris finally risked looking over his shoulder and saw the Terminator
following just as closely. As a matter of fact, it was gaining ground quite
rapidly. Chris caught sight of Darien waiting at the head of the locomotive.
The train was already billowing clouds of smoke through its funnel in
anticipation of the journey soon to begin. For the last hour or so Darien had
been familiarizing himself with the vehicle to play his part in Chris’ plan.
As Chris ran through the open door of one of the
cars, the whistle at the front of the train bellowed its intention to depart.
Pistons came to life, forcing conrods into motion as the wheels started
forward, propelling the locomotive. Chris disappeared into the one of the
numerous carriages on the train and held back long enough for the Terminator to
see where he had gone. The Terminator had no difficulty now that it had picked
up on Chris’ DNA signature. It leapt onto the narrow platform that led into the
last carriage to maintain the pursuit.
The wheels of the train heaved into movement as
the locomotion jerked into action, slowly gaining speed as it began its snake
like exodus from Eagle Bend towards an uncertain destination. As it chugged
past the platform, leaving the town behind, Chris allowed himself a note of
satisfaction knowing that Billy was this moment with Orin and Evie Travis, safe
from the grasp of any mechanical murderer. Chris had not lied when he had told
the others that he was bringing an end to this relentless hunt.
With the exception of Buck and Darien who were at
the controls of the locomotive, Chris as alone on the train with the
Terminator, preparing for a game of cat and mouse which would decide the future
of them all. Chris was unwilling to risk any more lives to protect himself from
this creature of steel and flesh. This was the final showdown between him and
the Terminator and Chris did not intend to lose. If Skynet wanted Chris Larabee
so badly, it better be prepared to storm the gates of hell to find him because
Chris was going to destroy it one way or the other.
The game, as they say, was now afoot.
********
"You sure you know how to drive this
thing?" Buck looked at Darien uncertainly as the train began to pull out
of the station. Eagle Bend swept past them in a blur of color within a few
seconds and they were soon heading out towards open country.
"Trust me Buck." Darien grinned, unable
to not feel some excitement at what they were planning to do. He had seen
trains like these in museums in the future, however, it was nothing like the
euphoria of riding one, or better yet, driving the enormous locomotive.
"Selma knows everything there is to know about trains."
Buck was unimpressed by his enthusiasm. "That
does not make me feel better." Buck retorted over the sounds of engines
chugging along as its increasing pace.
Darien did not blame Buck for his grim outlook.
Buck had been very vocal in his dislike of Chris Larabee’s plan, mostly because
of the danger to Chris himself. Darien could share that feeling, since he did
not like the idea that at this moment, Chris was to keep one step ahead of the
Terminator in the carriages they were taking along for the ride. Fortunately,
Selma’s memory erasing abilities would keep the seven from suffering any
consequences for stealing the train. Darien did not like utilizing her neural
manipulation functions, but realized that it was necessary in this instance.
The only memory that would be retained by any witnesses would be that of the
Terminator stealing the locomotive, and if all went as planned; even that
little aspect would become a moot point.
Buck kept looking out of the window, trying in a
futile attempt to catch a glimpse of how Chris was faring inside the train
carriages. The urge to help his friend was making Buck pace the floor of the
driver’s compartment like a caged animal. Darien was starting to get nervous
merely looking at him, and the future policemen quickly spoke up. "Buck,
he will be okay."
Buck paused a moment. "I know that." He
replied. "Chris can take care of himself." Somehow, he did not sound
very convinced. "Let’s just hope that you can drive this thing and Josiah
takes care of his part of the plan."
Darien hoped so too because if Josiah and the rest
of the seven did not fulfill their end, then this was all going to be for
nothing.
********
Chris had caught himself a tiger by the tail.
He had always wondered what that meant actually,
or why anyone would place themselves in such a dangerous situation. However, as
he moved further up the train with the Terminator never more than a carriage
behind, Chris understood the saying perfectly. The Terminator showed no
indication that it was aware that it had been led into a trap, not that it had
any reason to be worried. Chris had been dodging it long enough for the train
to leave the station and get fully under way. The journey to the rendezvous
point was an hour away and for that long hour, Chris was going to have to stay
ahead of the mechanical hunter.
Removing the gun that Darien had give him from his
holster, Chris paused a moment in the dining car to examine the weapon closely.
It looked like a handgun but it had none of the refinement of his pearl handled
peacemakers. Instead, its appearance was squarish and chunky, with a finish
that made the metal seem black. It had ten rounds, and inside Chris’ pockets
were a handful of replacement clips. Darien had given him an abridged lesson in
how to use the gun and reload it before the Terminator’s arrival. There were
other such treasures hidden all across the train for his use, but for the
moment this would have to do.
Suddenly, he heard the familiar slam of a carriage
door and peered through the glass to see the Terminator crossing the juncture
in between the train cars. Chris was told that the gun was capable of extreme
distances and as soon as he saw the Terminator appear at the door to the dining
carriage, he aimed at the cyborg’s head and began firing.
A hail of bullets ripped from the barrel, startling Chris to no end since he
was accustomed to cocking his gun after every shot. However, the momentary
lapse was quickly hurdled and Chris saw the bullets tear across the
Terminator’s chest in quick succession. The force of the gunfire staggered the
cyborg and it recoiled into the door, shattering the glass in its retreat. Not
allowing it the chance to recover, Chris squeezed the trigger again and was
rewarded by seeing the Terminator jerking around like a puppet as multiple
bullets tore its chest apart. Chris saw an expanding stain of crimson stretch
across those massive pectorals. The Terminator smashed through the doorway,
swinging the wooden door, carried by the wind rushing past the train, outward.
It leaned against the railing, as it took a second to recover from the gunfire.
However, the second had no soon elapsed than it was striding purposefully
through the door of the dining car once again.
Chris knew when it was time to leave and he
stopped shooting immediately. He hurried through the rear access of the
carriage and saw the Terminator running after him in full pursuit. The cyborg
had both guns drawn and was firing at him now, perhaps to return the favor of
his earlier barrage. Chris kept his head down as he felt bullets whizzing past
him. Some impacted on the wooden walls of the carriage while others shattered
crockery resting neatly on the set dining tables. It was open season on
everything in the room and no object escaped unscathed. Forks and knives spun
on the tablecloth surfaces as projectiles brushed past them. Pictures frames
clattered to the floor and the sound of breaking glass almost eclipsed the
gunfire. The whole room was quickly transformed into a war zone as pieces of
shattered ceramic covered the floor, becoming lost in fallen cutlery and the
debris of splintered wood.
Chris could see it coming as the gunslinger ran
down into another empty passenger car. He ducked into one of the private
compartments as he heard the crash and clatter of the Terminator’s approach.
Locking the door to the compartment, a futile gesture Chris thought on
reflection, he went to the wide picture window. Glancing outside, he could see
that they were well on their way to the rendezvous point. Chris began undo the
lock when to his chagrin he found the mechanism had been damaged and the window
was not opening. The seconds ticked by as Chris wrestled with the uncooperative
lock, trying to force the window open when suddenly the Terminator was at the
entrance to the compartment.
Chris remembered what Darien had told him about
getting into any enclosed space with the cyborg and immediately forgot about
the window or the bad luck of it being jammed. The Terminator aimed its gun at
Chris and began firing; Chris ducked for cover as the bullets tore through the
small space, shattering the glass window and tearing through the upholstered
seats. In a moment of absurdity, Chris found some satisfaction in the
destruction of the window, considering what it was about to cost him in the
delay. Beams of light started appearing in the bullet ridden holes of the
compartment as Chris stayed down and let the Terminator do its worst, knowing
inevitably, the cyborg would come through the door to deal with him directly.
After what he had seen in the saloon, Chris had no intention of going hand to
hand with the monster under any circumstances.
As expected, the Terminator entered the
compartment and quickly located Chris. Chris scrambled to his feet in an
attempt to get away when the Terminator yanked him back by his duster. The
human felt his head slam against the floor and a thousand colors flashed before
his eyes in the stupor of disorientation. The warmth of blood ran down his
forehead. Chris felt himself being dragged backwards by a powerful hand and
recovered enough to turn around and see what the Terminator was planning. The
cyborg had produced the shotgun with its other hand, with every intention of blowing
a hole through Chris to fulfil its mission objective. Without thinking, Chris
swung his gun at the Terminator and took careful aim. He had no concern as to
where the others following it would go; he only cared about the initial
projectile. The bullet penetrated the opening in the folds of the bandages
wrapped around the Terminator’s head.
The cyborg released its grip of Chris as its hands
instinctively clutched the optical sensor in its left eye when it was
completely destroyed by the strength of a 45-caliber bullet. Chris wasted no
time using the few seconds it would take for the Terminator to recover from
this assault. With its huge form blocking the door of the compartment, Chris
lunged instead for the shattered window as he had originally intended. Climbing
through it, he fought the air rushing past him as he wrapped his fingers around
the safety bars of the window, to shimmy to another compartment. He felt
himself pressed up against the smooth surface of the train car while telegraph
poles breezed past him. Resisting the urge to look down, he started the
laborious journey to the next compartment, fighting the wind that was
threatening to tear him away.
He had almost cleared the compartment when the
Terminator appeared through the window and grabbed his wrist, pulling him back.
"Get your fucking hands off me!" Chris
swore and risked letting go of one of the bars to use his gun.
This time, he aimed point blank into the cyborg’s
face. It indifferent to the danger or did not presume to believe it could be
damaged. Chris did not care which and squeezed off a round nevertheless. The
bullets slammed into the cyborg’s face before the thick endoskeleton deflected
the projectiles, sending one straight into Chris’ arm. Chris let out a groan of
pain as the Terminator released its grip. The injury caused Chris to lose his
grasp of his gun and the automatic was swept away with the wind. Chris was
half-aware of it clattering down the tracks as he dangled precariously from the
bar with one hand. Despite the pain, he knew he did not have much time. The
Terminator was better at recovery than he was and Chris bit down as he
continued his advance to the next compartment.
*******
"How long until they get here?" Nathan
asked as he and Josiah finished their work of redirecting the train tracks.
They had ridden out of Eagle Bend some hours ago
to reach this point, and knew that much hinged on completing their part of the
plan. Chris’ strategy was tenuous at best and not one of the seven liked the
idea of what he had planned Unfortunately, they had to begrudgingly agree with
Chris that this situation had gone far enough. They understood his motivation
was fuelled by hatred for the monster that had robbed him and the woman he
loved of their first child together, but they also knew despite their
reservations, that this was the best way.
Nathan, Josiah and JD had reached Eagle Bend the
afternoon before the Terminator’s arrival, while the rest of their number
arrived later on that night. Once they were together again, Chris had outlined
his audacious plan, basing everything on the supposition that the Terminator
would arrive by train since it was not possible for it to ride after the
reaction Vin’s horse had to the cyborg. Volunteering himself as bait, the plan
was to lead the Terminator well away from Eagle Bend and Billy Travis before
destroying the evil machine permanently.
"About twenty minutes I think," Josiah
replied as he placed his large hands on the lever that would sent the train
from the main line to the disused track. With a sharp push forward, the lengths
of steel slid into place and connected to the tarnished line that was overgrown
with weeds and shrubs from years of neglect. The fork in the tracks curved away
from the main line and would continue into the mountains toward its ultimate
destiny.
"I hope Chris can stay ahead of that
thing." Nathan said, trying not to worry about their leader, even though
Chris was extremely capable. However, none of them could ignore that what Chris
was fighting was no man, and even if it took a mechanical creature from the
future to defeat him, it was quite possible that Chris might have met his
match.
"Well," Josiah said with a quiet sigh,
staring into the horizon at the direction in which the unseen train would
arrive and replied. "We’ll know soon enough."
*******
Instead of climbing into the second compartment
where the Terminator was undoubtedly waiting for him, Chris decided to make his
way towards the rungs on the side of the carriage that would lead to the roof.
The wound on his arm ached painfully and it took more time than he liked to
make the crossing. However, this ensured that the Terminator would not attempt
to pull him back into the carriage again. Chris entertained the brief notion
that he might have injured the cyborg after he stepped onto the roof of the
train.
No sooner had the thought crossed his mind than,
the floor in front of him erupted outwards as bullets tore through the wood
from inside the carriage. Bullet holes riddled the roof and snaked towards
Chris with barely a moment to spare for him to get away. He was on his feet
immediately, ignoring the pain in his arm and hoping that the intensity of it
did not mean he was hurt seriously. Chris ran down the length of the carriage
roof, just keeping ahead of the gunfire nipping at his heels. He reached the
end of the carriage and took a deep breath as he leapt across the gap between
cars and landed on his knees at the edge of the next car. In turn, the
Terminator reached the juncture and quickly assessed that Chris was still on
the roof before continuing with its current strategy.
When Chris heard the door opening on the carriage
below, he resumed running again. The engine car of the locomotive was only
three or four carriages away and Chris could not allow the Terminator to
disrupt Darien’s attempt to bring the train to its destination. Somehow, he had
to think of a way to draw the Terminator away from that final carriage. Instead
of running forward, Chris began backtracking to the carriage where one of
Darien’s futuristic weapons was kept. He knew the Terminator would immediately
pick up the change of direction but at this point, Chris did not have any
choice in the matter.
Judging by where they were, Chris realized that
the train was due to change tracks in approximately five minutes if that. Very
soon, he should be able to catch sight of Josiah and Nathan if they had played
their part as instructed. His arm ached as he ran but Chris was beyond caring.
They were almost at the end of this nightmare and he was not about to let a
little pain hinder their progress.
Okay, so it was a bit more than a little
pain.
With only a narrow margin of time to act, Chris
jumped onto the platform that led inside the carriage he had been attempting to
reach. The car was allotted as a third class carriage, with seats for
passengers instead of exclusive compartments. As Chris stepped inside, he saw
the Terminator quickly making its way through the next carriage towards him.
Chris estimated no more than a minute before the cyborg reached him. He ducked
behind the last seat and found the weapon nestled underneath it. For all
intents and purposes it looked like a rifle to Chris, but like the smaller
version had to be loaded with clips of at least twenty to thirty rounds,
requiring nothing more than a single pull of the trigger to send a murderous
hail of bullets in the direction desired.
Chris was going to hate returning it to Darien.
By the time the Terminator reached the doors,
Chris was ready for it. Waiting until the cyborg had entered the room, Chris
started firing. Unlike a rifle, the weapon was not very loud and it made a
strange rat-tat-tat voice sound that Chris found was strange to hear from a
gun. There was no dramatic booming sound, but the effect was not as understated
as the its audio acoustics. The rounds tore through the Terminator’s wounded
and bleeding outer covering, creating spurts of blood with each entry. Chris
saw flesh starting to fly off its skin as the bullets dug into its metallic
shell. The fearsome hail forced the Terminator to retreat, but it did not take
long before the cyborg was able to absorb the shots and resume the chase. There
was never any sign of pain on its face despite the abuses received by its body.
It looked at Chris impassively as ever, completely mechanical in its
expression. Its indifference infuriated the human to no end and Chris fired
again, wanting the continuous barrage of gunfire to hurt it in some way.
Suddenly, he saw Josiah and Nathan as the train
sped past them. Their eyes were searching the carriages, trying to see him, but
the train was travelling too fast for that. He took note of the territory the
train was entering and realized that the time to keep the Terminator distracted
was fast dwindling. The locomotive had been diverted from the main track as
Chris had planned, taking the disused line leading through the rugged
landscape. The dozens of frontier towns in this area had dwindled away with the
destruction of the bridge and until such time as it was repaired, those towns
would remain in limbo.
Chris ran out of the carriage with the Terminator
following close and firing. He felt a bullet graze his ear as he ran out of the
car and scrambled up the rungs that took him to the roof once again. This time
the Terminator was not wasting its time with any half measures and climbed onto
the roof after him, with no hesitation about shooting a man in the back.
It was a minor miracle that Chris had avoided
another bullet for as long as he had, but the miracles were about to run dry
for him. Chris felt his leg give way as one of the Terminator’s projectiles
sent waves of screaming pain when it penetrated the flesh of his thigh. He let
out a soft grunt as he felt his knee hit the hard wooden surface, with the
instinctive knowledge that he was hit badly. Unfortunately, Chris did not have
time to suffer the wound because if the Terminator reached him, an injured leg
was going to be the least of his problems. Forcing himself to stand because the
Terminator was gaining valuable ground, Chris started running again, feeling
exquisite agony with each step forward. When he leapt across the gap, he barely
made it, almost missed clearing the distance. The blood was starting to soak
his trouser leg and Chris knew he could he could bleed to death.
The Terminator was still behind, determined not to
let him escape. Chris ran forward, noticeably slower as he limped painfully
against the rush of the wind created by the speeding locomotive. As they passed
the hills and took the meandering track that would eventually lead to the
damaged bridge, Chris saw riders emerge from behind the rocky pass. There were
just two of them, riding hard with horses in tow.
The arrival of Vin Tanner told Chris just how long
he had until the train arrived at the bridge, which was not very long at all.
******
Vin saw Chris struggling to keep ahead of the
Terminator, obviously injured, and knew without any doubt that the monster
would catch up with the gunslinger unless he and JD did something quickly.
Fortunately, Vin did not have to tell the young man to act because JD was
already pulling away from Vin’s side and edging his horse along side the
locomotive. JD was easily the best rider among the seven, even if he was the
youngest and hailed from the east. Years of dreaming to become a Wild West
legend had encouraged the boy to learn the discipline rigorously.
JD brought his mount to a parallel course with the
train and got as close to the Terminator as possible. The young man could see
Chris struggling to maintain the pace of keeping ahead but could tell from his
movements that the injuries were getting the best of him. JD drew his gun and
started squeezing shots in the direction of Chris’ assailant. If what he had
been told was right, the bullets would do very little harm to the thing, but at
least it would distract it enough to let Chris widen the gap between them. The
bullets fired struck the side of the Terminator which did little more than
pause before turning sharply to JD. JD saw the huge man raise a shotgun in his
direction.
"Watch out!" He heard Vin yelled but JD
was ready already ducking the blast that roared through the air. He did not
know how close the shot had come to hitting him, but the roar seemed very close
and JD returned fire with the remaining shells in his gun. He would need to
slow down to reload but somehow guessed that time had almost run out. As he
looked ahead, JD could see that they were fast running out of land and track.
Chris had better make his move fast or they were
all going to have reason to regret it.
*********
Chris saw the same thing that JD did and using the
distraction the young man had provided, jumped onto the freight bin carrying
the locomotive’s fuel supply. The Terminator was currently dealing with JD
allowing Chris to use the railings on the side of the bin to reach the engines.
In the distance, he could see the bridge. From this angle, it was not possible
to see that it was incomplete but Chris knew for a fact that it was. He had
ridden through this area some months ago and had come across the damaged
structure.
As Vin rode past him with the horses, Chris could
see Buck and Darien emerging from the driver’s compartment. Buck’s face showed
his worried expression and Chris followed his worried expression to find the
Terminator was only a few feet behind him. By now Vin had brought the horse to
the front of the train, somehow matching the pace as Buck and Darien prepared
to dismount. The plan had been to wait until Chris had joined them but it was
fast becoming apparent that it would not happen.
"Chris!" Buck called out, urging him to
hurry.
His injuries had cost him valuable time but Chris
was not about to let Buck and Darien pay for it with their lives. Maintaining
his advance to the engines, Chris shouted back at Buck. "Go!"
"We ain’t leaving you!" Buck shouted
back in protest realizing what Chris wanted him to do.
"NOW BUCK! NOW!" Chris fairly screamed
against the roar of wind threatening to toss him aside.
Buck gave him an anguished look as Vin urged them
to hurry. Chris had no intention of dying but if he jumped now, the Terminator
would follow and this entire exercise would have been for nothing. He had to
stay until the very last moment. He saw Buck leap out of the driver’s
compartment and land shakily on the horse.
"Larabee!" Darien cried out. "This
is for nothing if you die!"
"Just go!" Chris ordered once more.
Darien looked at him uncertainly and complied finally, jumping off the edge to
the horse waiting for him. As soon as the two men were away, the horses veered
away from the train and Chris let out a sigh of relief as he watched them fade
into the distance.
Chris slid across the rail and finally reached the
abandoned driver’s cabin. The furnace was closed and the stench of smoke was
heavy in small compartment. Chris saw the approaching bridge and peered out the
window to see exactly where the Terminator was at this point. The cyborg was
clambering over the woodpile, oblivious to where the train was headed, only
concerned with the fact that Chris was finally within reach.
Chris saw the track moving into the superstructure
of the incomplete bridge and stood poised at the edge of the compartment,
keeping his eyes trained on the Terminator advancing forward. Chris waited
until it had to climb off the woodpile to shimmy the rest of the journey when
he saw the land before him start to dissolve.
It was now or never.
Closing his eyes and taking a leap of faith, Chris
Larabee jumped. The Terminator’s head pivoted sharply in the direction of his
descent when it suddenly realized what had happened. Unfortunately, the
discovery came too late as the train had crossed the edge of the terrain and
was now moving over the chasm. It was still considering its position when the
track finally disappeared and the train tumbled off the jagged edge of metal.
There was a final moment of silence as the juggernaut slipped into a free fall
before the entire weight of the locomotive and carriages collapsed on top of
each others, folding upon itself in a final dance of death.
When the earth finally reached up and claimed its
prize, the resounding explosion echoed through the canyon with a loud roar. The
shock wave sent tremors through the ground, making the land quake like ripples
through water. A wall of flames jetted through the air, consuming everything in
its path, air, wood and metal until it curled into a column of black smoke.
Chris Larabee did not dare to move for a few
seconds. He felt the violent tremors beneath him following the train’s
explosion. His body ached in a dozen places and the sharp sting in his shoulder
was not just from a bullet but from a dislocated shoulder which had taken the
brunt of his landing. He remained where he was for short time, letting his
exhaustion overtake him momentarily before making the attempt to sit up. It was
an action he regretted almost instantly but Chris was compelled to satisfy his
curiosity. With a loud groan, he rose to his feet and staggered forward,
expecting Vin and the others to appear soon enough.
Chris hobbled to the edge of the cliff and looked
down into the canyon below. The ground beneath was an inferno of twisted metal
and burning wood. The debris was spread over a large area of the canyon floor
but Chris could see nothing that might indicate that the Terminator was
similarly destroyed. He did not think that anything could have survived such a
fiery end, but the past few days had been one of surprises. The impossible
seemed to have little meaning when it came to the matter of time travelers and
machines that thought like human beings.
"You okay pardner?" he heard Vin Tanner
ask after the tracker rode up to him and dismounted. Behind him were Darien
Lambert and the others.
Chris, who was clutching his shoulder and had a
visible grimace on his features, offered the younger man a faint smile. With
dirt and soot stuck to his skin with sweat and blood, Chris could only mutter a
painful response. "I’ve been better."
"Did it go down with the train?" Vin
asked, peering at the fiery wreckage below. He did not need to elaborate on
what ‘it’ was.
Chris nodded slowly. "All the way."
"Then it’s over." Vin met his gaze.
Chris stared at the burning heap of wood and steel, smelling the stench of
heated oil and metal that was wafting through the air. He wondered if the
warmth he felt was from the summer heat or could it really be the roast of the
fiery wreck below. Was it over? Chris was not prepared to make that assumption
just yet. "We need to get down there" he said simply. "I need to
see it before I can believe any of this is over with."
As always, Vin’s reaction to such a statement was
little more than a raised brow. "I reckon we better get going then."
The tracker said quietly and continued watching the mesmerizing dance of flames
consuming remnants of the locomotive below and hopefully the Terminator as
well.
**********
It took a little more than an hour to reach the bottom
of the canyon to verify that the Terminator was indeed dead. Chris needed to
see it for himself or else he would never believe that it was truly gone. He
was unprepared to live the rest of his life watching the shadows around Mary
for signs of eminent danger. For her sake as well as his, Chris wanted there to
be no doubts. Despite Nathan’s protests, they took the difficult path down the
craggy terrain, their eyes constantly watching the wreckage in their descent.
The fire would eventually attract someone’s attention, so Chris wanted to do
this now while they could still slip away anonymously.
"What a mess." JD exclaimed as they
reached the floor of the canyon. The destruction was almost complete with
debris covering a wide area, until there were smoking embers of steel cackling
everywhere. It was hard to imagine that all this twisted metal had once been
the main form of transport between Sweetwater and Eagle Bend.
"Just keep an eye open." Chris warned as
he stood still long enough for Nathan to examine the wound on his leg once
again. The healer had wanted him off his feet immediately, not hobbling about
the place searching for mechanical phantoms. Chris’ injuries were serious, but
nothing Nathan could say was able to influence Chris Larabee, once he had set
his mind on something.
"I better stick with him then." Josiah
remarked, knowing just how young and eager JD could be when it came to rushing
into trouble. The young man had a keener scent of getting himself into strife
than anyone the preacher had ever met. For some reason, Josiah felt as if JD
was a lamb in his flock that required special tending, and as one of his
shepherds, he was obligated to keep an eye on him.
"Good idea." Chris offered Josiah a
knowing smile. They were all accustomed to JD’s naivete by now.
"Selma," Darien spoke. "Are you
picking up any signs of artificial neural patterns?" The seven had fanned
out, keeping the wreckage under deep scrutiny. It was hard to spot movement
when there was so much damage and heat. In fact, Darien did not like remaining
in the vicinity because the air was almost toxic.
"None Captain," Selma replied.
"However, it is difficult to ascertain an accurate reading with the
surface temperature being what it is."
"I understand." Darien frowned, his eyes
moving past the demolished carriages whose remains were burning steadily in the
late morning heat.
"Could it have survived the fall?" Buck
asked Darien, since his descendant from the future seemed to have all the
answers lately. Despite his aloof manner, Buck knew that Darien did not loathe
him or what he was. Darien’s fear came from the unanswered questions about his
own life, and Buck could appreciate what it meant to be finally in the reach of
that need. In some ways, Buck felt protective towards Darien, feeling a desire
to remain close to the man because in essence, Darien was his legacy to the
world. Whether or not he knew it, Darien had become proof of Buck Wilmington’s
belief that his life would mean something to someone and there would be
children in his future. It was a good feeling.
"I doubt it." Darien shook his head. "Titanium or not, that was
almost a hundred foot drop riding the tail of a locomotive. The shock wave
alone should have vaporized it." Darien was probably exaggerating, but
Buck seemed to have an idea of what he was talking about. "However, we are
talking about technology I’ve never seen before so, it’s anyone’s guess."
"What about that fancy machine you got
there." Buck remarked, indicating Selma. "She seems to know quite a
bit."
"I’ve asked." Darien smiled, wondering
how Selma would have taken the description. "The heat from the fire is
making it difficult to tell."
"You really should be off this leg."
Nathan reminded Chris. He and Vin were following Chris closely as the
gunslinger limped around the periphery of the blaze, trying to see more than
just shards of twisted metal and flaming wood in the fiery heap.
"Nathan, you sound like my mother."
Chris grumbled. "Stop clucking."
Nathan stiffened in annoyance. "Well don’t
you come running to me if your leg don’t work right later."
"In that case he won’t be running
anywhere." Vin said with a faint smile that received a scathing look from
Nathan.
Anything else Chris was going to say was
interrupted when there was a sudden creak of metal directly in front of him.
Chris saw the heaving of a steel girder, shifting position as something forced
it away. The length of iron tumbled aside with a loud clang and immediately
brought the others running towards Chris’ side. He held his ground, listening
closely to the sounds of something beneath the debris burrowing towards him.
The Terminator appeared. What was left of it
anyway. Its outer covering of skin was completely gone now and the seven found
themselves facing a monstrosity of metal with one glowing red eye. It crawled
towards Chris, pulling itself along the ground since it no longer had the
ability to stand. Both its legs and one arm had been completely detached, wires
and conduits bleeding fluid and sparks as it struggled to complete its
directive even in this damaged state. What was left of its destroyed
microprocessor still identified Chris as the enemy. Chris stared at it
dispassionately, allowing himself to feel the hatred he had been keeping inside
since he found out about Mary.
"Vin." Chris replied, never taking his
eyes off the beast in its painful advance.
"Yeah Chris?" Vin asked, staring at the
thing with something akin to horror and disgust. In fact they were all looking
at it with similar shades of distaste. Until now, they had only pictured the
Terminator as a man, walking, talking and breathing, capable of taking several
bullet wounds but nevertheless, it appeared in their minds as something human.
Not any more.
"Vin." Chris spoke again, snapping Vin
out of his observation. "You got the dynamite?"
"Yeah," Vin nodded and strode away to
his horse to retrieve the explosives Chris had asked him to purchase while they
were in Eagle Bend last night. Despite the weapons that Darien had been so good
to provide, Chris had wanted the use of something familiar.
Vin handed him the cylindrical length of explosive
when the tracker returned. The Terminator was only a few yards from Chris, but
judging by its state, it was incapable of harming anyone now. Still it was not
wise to take chances.
Chris hobbled forward, meeting the cyborg half
way. It made a weak attempt to grab his leg but Chris slammed his uninjured
foot against the metal hulk’s wrist and ground it into the dirt, imprisoning it
where it was. Bending down slightly, Chris lit the stick of dynamite as the
Terminator snapped its head upward to look at him. The destroyed optic sensor
gaped open at Chris through a dark eye socket. Jamming the dynamite into the
open orifice, Chris lit the fuse and stepped back as it started to burn with a
loud hiss. He then stepped away with the rest of his companions as they waited
for the dynamite to do its work from a suitable distance.
Chris had parting words for the cyborg in the
instant before destruction.
"Terminate this."
With that, the cyborg who had no reply could do
little as its skull exploded outward. Metal chunks flew in all direction,
pieces of a central processor and other integrated chips far beyond the
capability of 19th and 20th century technology, rained
down around their ears as fragments of alien metal. The exoskeleton was blown
apart completely, pieces scattering over wide area in a smoking mess. Chris
shook a piece of debris from his duster before turning his back on it with a
quiet whisper.
"That was for Mary."
Epilogue:
Season of Change
After the seven had collected the remains of the
Terminator and buried it deep beneath the earth within that desolate canyon,
Darien knew his time in the 19th century was at an end. Even though
he had come to care about the people in this time, he was not of it and his
continued presence could pose as much a danger to the time line as the
Terminator itself. Injecting himself with the modified TXP pellet that Sahmbi
had provided for his return journey home, Darien hoped that the drug would do
everything Sahmbi said it would. Despite himself, he was still unable to take
the doctor on good faith, even though without Sahmbi’s help, the future would
have died in the making.
Fortunately, the quick death that Darien feared
never came, and he authorized Selma to send the transmission. He had no idea
how long it would take before he dissolved into nothingness, transformed into a
matter stream riding the temporal waves that would return him to the 20th
century. Thus, Darien chose to say his good byes before that moment, knowing
that he did not want to leave things unsaid. Most of all, he wanted to speak to
Buck Wilmington who was no doubt his ancestor and had given him something
precious that Darien had never expected to gain in his wildest imaginings.
An identity.
It was quite a sobering experience to know that
you were not just a Caucasian or a blanco but also an American with
ancestors that originated in the untamed frontiers of the west. If he chose, he
could trace his family tree from Buck Wilmington all the way to his parents,
whoever they might be. Perhaps he would do that some day after he got home, but
at the moment, he was comfortable with what he already knew, to leave it a
mystery for awhile. It brought a smile to his face, knowing that he had at the
very least found himself in time, instead of fleeing it.
"I better get this over and done with."
Darien remarked as he and Buck rode side by side while they took the steep
climb out of the canyon. He had been saying his good byes as they continued
along the trail, making quiet farewells as the journey progressed.
"Kinda spooky that you just disappear like
that." Buck pointed out. "Inconvenient too."
"Yeah," Darien nodded. "I’m used to
it. I disappear a lot even in the 20th century." He stared into
the unspoiled beauty of the land before them. Even with the pyre of the
locomotive burning at the bottom of the canyon, it maintained a serene quality
that would be gone by the time the 20th century claimed it.
"I kind of guessed that." Buck nodded,
unable to ignore the underlying sadness that lived inside Darien Lambert. He
sensed a great loneliness in the man, which made Buck grateful for the friends
he had around him. "Maybe, you ought to let go of her."
Darien met his gaze. "She’s the reason I
decided to do this." He responded although Elyssa’s name was never
mentioned between them in conversation.
"I don’t think she’d want you to spend your life in mourning." Buck
looked at him seriously.
"I’m not mourning." Darien began to protest and saw the knowing look
in Buck’s face. "Perhaps just a little."
"A man can only spend so many years dreaming
of what might have been before it takes its toll and you find your life has
slipped by, without you even living it. I hate to think that any of my kin
would have to go through that."
Darien smiled at Buck’s use of the word ‘kin’. It
brought warmth to his soul to hear that someone considered him family,
even in this time period. "I promise I will get back on the horse."
"Now you’re talking and if I might add, getting
yourself some female company ain’t such a bad idea either. You got to sow your
wild oats a little."
Darien could only shake his head in resignation.
While he had not exactly been celibate since Elyssa’s death, Darien could not
womanize the way Buck did. The man made it seem like an art, if even half
the stories that JD told him were true. "Do we have rabbit somewhere in
our family tree?" he laughed. "Besides I thought you and Inez were an
item."
"She hasn’t succumbed to my charms yet,"
Buck grinned. "But she will."
"I am really hoping that she doesn’t end up
being my great, great, great grandmother or something."
"Why?" Buck looked at him in confusion.
"She’s a fine lady."
"Exactly," Darien retorted "I just
hate to think what you’re going to put her through."
*******
Finally Darien reached Chris Larabee, the entire
reason why he had made this journey into the 19th century. In some
ways, he was grateful to Larabee for all the things he had gained on this trip.
He just wished it had not been at the cost an unborn child. History had decreed
that Chris and Mary would raise a number of children whose progeny would produce
a Caesar into the world when it needed one most. However the little footnotes
in history sounded shallow in light of the heartache that they were now
feeling.
Chris was sitting straight in the saddle despite
his injuries. It was hard to know what was on the man’s mind half the time. He
was, in Darien’s opinion, one of the most difficult people to read. It was easy
to understand where John’s presence originated after meeting Chris Larabee.
Darien admired him greatly, admired his strength, and most of all, the quiet
patience in which he attacked a problem. Not many men would have placed
themselves in the danger he had to destroy the Terminator but Darien had a
feeling, Chris found no difficulty making such decisions on a daily basis.
"I’m liable to disappear at any time,"
he said as he reached Chris. "I thought I’d make my good byes while I
still can."
Chris looked at him and nodded. "When do you
think you will get taken?"
Darien shook head in response. "I have no
idea. It will be soon enough. No more than a day for certain."
Chris stared at the road ahead before speaking
once more. "Thank you for what you did."
"You did most of it." Darien returned
quickly. "I just told you what was coming."
"You saved my life in the saloon." Chris
said firmly, in a manner that tolerated no argument on that point. "I
would have died then if you hadn’t come along."
"I did it for myself as much as I did it for
you Chris." Darien answered, feeling embarrassed by the sentiment since it
was just as much in his favor that Chris Larabee lived. "If you had, I’d
have nothing to go back to."
"Learn to take a compliment." Chris
retorted with a smile, eyes still fixed on the trail ahead.
Darien returned his smile with one of his own.
"You’re welcome."
"What will you do when you go back?"
Chris inquired, genuinely interested. In the past two days, he had come to see
Darien as someone who could have been a friend, the way Buck was. Although they
were poles apart, Chris could see the same personality underlying the
experiences of each other’s lives.
"The same thing I always do," Darien
answered, thinking about the fifty to sixty fugitives still escaping justice in
the 20th century. Granted he had help now, but it was still a
difficult task he had set himself for the sake of the promise he made for
Elyssa. "Find them and send back to the 22nd century."
"Do you go back when you’re done?"
Darien stared at him, wondering where Larabee was
going with this line of inquiry. While he had been presented by many questions
in the past two days from the others, Chris had shown very little interest in
what the future held. Darien could understand that he supposed, considering how
Chris had unwillingly been privy to more about his future then any man should
be aware. "No," he answered truthfully because he was sure Chris
would spot it if he lied. "I don’t think I will. I like the 20th
century, rough and tumble as it is. There’s still a little mystery left in the
world then."
Chris nodded. "This woman named Sarah. What’s
she like?"
"Sad." Darien said without hesitation.
"Lots of memories in her eyes of things that never happened but she
remembers. Now that the Terminator is gone, things should be back to normal. My
time line would have restored itself and there won’t be any Judgement Day. Kyle
Reese will be born in about ten years and he won’t have any idea what he meant
to her."
"My wife was called Sarah." Chris
replied quietly. "I hate to think that your Sarah is alone with a son, the
way mine were when I lost them."
"She’s a strong woman." Darien pointed out.
"Strongest one I’ve met."
"So was my wife." he returned. "But
I’d still appreciate it if you kept an eye on both of them. It feels kind of
right that you do it. Buck loved Adam like he was his own. I never realized
until later how much it hurt him too when they died."
"I can do that for you." Darien agreed,
with every intention of doing so even if Sarah did not remember him, or even if
Chris had not asked. "If you do me the favor of seeing to it that Buck
doesn't get himself killed by an angry husband."
Chris laughed softly. "I’ve been doing that since we met. I don’t think
I’ll be quitting now." He paused a moment and then turned to Darien,
meeting the man’s gaze for the first time. "It’s been a pleasure knowing
you Darien. I mean it."
"Well," Darien sighed trying not to let the emotion get the better of
him. "I won’t forget any one of you, that’s for sure and I think I’ll even
miss you."
Chris believed he meant it and wished a happier
life for this man from the future. Chris did not add that the same sadness that
Darien perceived in Sarah Connor was also reflected in his own eyes. The
gunslinger knew personally what it was like to endure the loss that he saw in
Darien’s eyes and hoped that some day, Darien would meet someone who could take
that emptiness away.
Otherwise, the future was a cold place already.
*********
Darien Lambert disappeared out of their lives as
abruptly as he had entered it. They were almost back to Eagle Bend when
suddenly he vanished into the thin air, leaving only his horse behind as it
looked at them, confused by the sudden disappearance of its rider. He shimmered
away into nothingness, leaving them all gaping in astonishment with the final
proof of what he had told them. Until now, the concept of time travel and
alternate universes had an unreality about it. As Darien Lambert disappeared
before their eyes, the world had expanded for all them. They would never speak
of what they had seen today, choosing to interpret the extraordinary events in
their own personal way. However, the world for them would never be the same. It
would go on in familiar patterns but they would all know the existence of
things unseen and how it could effect everything.
********
25th July 1878 – Four Corner, New
Mexico
"Are you coming up to the infirmary or
not?" Nathan Jackson eyed Vin Tanner critically.
Despite the fact that Vin had broken some ribs
less than a week earlier, Nathan had been unable to get the tracker back for a
further examination. With all the activity that Vin was forced to do after
sustaining the injury, what with the Terminator, riding from one end of the
Territory to the other in flight and pursuit, Nathan was concerned that the
ribs might need some additional treatment. Unfortunately, convincing Vin of
this was another matter entirely.
"I told you Nathan." Vin said in that
quiet manner of his. "I don’t need any more doctoring."
With the exception of Chris Larabee and Ezra
Standish, the rest of the seven were aiding with the repairs to the saloon after
the extensive damage incurred during their initial encounter with the
Terminator. At the moment, Vin was more concerned about conducing repairs to a
broken table rather than his own ribs. A situation that did not at all please
the healer.
"I ain’t gonna let you slither out of this
Vin." Nathan continued to persist, when suddenly, his gaze moved up to the
steps, where Ezra was currently making his way down followed by Alex who seemed
almost as perturbed as the healer.
"You’ve got to take it easy, Ezra." Alex
said exasperated. "You’ve got a broken windpipe, you shouldn’t be moving
at all."
"My dear Alexandra," Ezra croaked as he
descended, his voice was not quite back to normal yet. "I am capable of
overseeing some of the work being conducted on this establishment. I will not
leave it in the hands of these heathens."
"Thank you Ezra." Josiah retorted from
where he was mending the bullet holes in the walls with a mixture of mortar.
"I knew you’d appreciate the help."
"No offence intended," Ezra said in that
charming manner of his, although the effect was not as dramatic without his
elegant voice. "I simply meant that you lack the necessary refinement to
envision this place in the grandeur that I do."
Alex met Josiah’s gaze and they both rolled their
eyes in the same show of sarcasm.
"I got better things to do than clean up here
you know." JD added with similar annoyance. The young man was currently
sweeping out the debris that had covered almost every inch of floor space
inside the saloon. Everything from glass shards, to plaster and splinters of
wood made up the heap, which was now his responsibility to clean. Pushing a
broom was not the most glamorous way for JD to spend an afternoon, especially
in the face of Ezra’s recent remark. "I told Casey I’d go up and help her
on the farm for a few days, until Nettie’s on her feet."
"Don’t worry," Alex glared at Ezra for
his rudeness. "When I get him back upstairs, I’ll try to replace the part
of his brain that keeps him from saying exactly what’s on his mind."
"If you get him back up at all." Josiah
said with a smile. "Counting today, it’s been almost four days since
Ezra’s had a decent game of cards. Didn’t you tell me you wanted some challenge
in your poker?"
Alex frowned and stared at him with an accusing
eye. "Hey, I’ve been playing cards with you!"
Ezra looked at Josiah through narrowed eyes while the preacher wore a satisfied
smirk on his face before turning back to the wall he was currently working on.
"Now Alexandra," Ezra started to explain amidst of JD’s laughter in
the background. "Mr. Sanchez may have misinterpreted my meaning."
Alex nodded in obvious disbelief as Ezra found
himself an undamaged chair upon which to rest. "I’ll bet." She
remarked, giving him a skeptical look. "You can make it up to me if you go
back upstairs for a few more days."
"I am not that apologetic." He replied.
"What is it with you healers? Rest is for the weary. I am not weary nor in
any need of further medical aid."
"You said it." Vin agreed, meeting
Nathan’s gaze as if to prove the point that he was not going to any infirmary
to have any ribs examined again. As far as he was concerned, he was well and
truly on the mend.
Nathan stood up and went next to Alex. "I’ve
got a plan." He stared at the young doctor who merely nodded, instantly
knowing what Nathan intended.
"I’m with you." She answered with her
arms folded staring at both impossible patients with a set look about her.
"You get Ezra upstairs and I will take care of Mr. Tanner’s ribs."
"A nice neat trade." Nathan grinned as
he took a step towards Ezra, who knew the healer would have no trouble slinging
him over his shoulder if necessary.
"Wait a minute…" Vin replied as he saw
Alex taking a step forward in his direction. He was not letting such a
beautiful woman put her hands anywhere on his body. No matter how much
he might enjoy the sensation.
"You have another suggestion?" Alex met
the tracker’s gaze and then shifted to Ezra’s.
Ezra and Vin exchanged glances before Vin stood up
a second later and turned towards Nathan. "Let’s go." He replied,
unabashed in his resentment. The healer could only grin as he followed the
reluctant tracker out of the doors.
"Shall we?" Alex offered Ezra her
sweetest smile as she waited for him to move.
"You have won this round." He returned with a wry grin. "I
assure you, you will not win the next."
"Whatever," she shook her head and
received looks of sympathy from both Josiah and JD respectively as they started
slowly towards the stairs again. "What shall we play? Go fish or old
maid?"
"Oh God…..’ Ezra could only groan. "I
have died and gone to hell."
*********
Buck Wilmington was quiet throughout all this. He
was deep in thought, his mind still wondering about the possibilities Darien
Lambert’s presence had opened up for him. For the first time in his life, Buck
looked at his future seriously. He knew now that he would marry and have
children some day. At least he hoped he was married first. He could not help
wondering if in all his sexual encounters, he had already sewn the seeds for Darien’s
existence. Or was he yet to do so?
He worked on the bar quietly, contemplating such
deep thoughts about all the women he had slept with in his life, wondering if
he had ever left any of them in a family way without his knowing. There were so
many, it was hard to place a name to every one of them. He wished he could have
been able to find out from Darien for certain but knew it was impossible now.
Besides, he still believed that some part of his future ought to surprise him.
"You’re quiet." Inez broke into those
silent thoughts from the other end of the counter, where she was presently,
clearing the broken bottles and replacing them with new stock.
Buck looked up at her distracted. "I guess. I
was just thinking."
"About Darien?" She guessed accurately.
Inez could not deny that seeing two men with the exact same face was
disconcerting, especially when they were so remarkably different.
"How did you guess?" He said pausing a
moment.
"If I met a relative from the future, I would
be a little lost in thought as well." She offered him an understanding
smile.
"He was very different, wasn’t he?" Buck
sighed, wondering if he could have been the same way if circumstances were
different.
"A lot of things shaped his life Buck,"
Inez pointed out. She saw the expression on Buck’s face and found herself
adding. "Although I thought he was bit to straight and narrow for me. I
would have liked him to be a little louder." She offered him one of those
smiles that could melt him where he stood.
"Does that mean we can do a little something
tonight?" He looked at her suggestively.
"Hold you horses, cowboy." She said with
that stern voice of hers that indicated that he had gone too far again. "I
didn’t mean that as an invitation."
One of these days Buck suspected, he would not go
too far and that was a day he looked forward to with great anticipation.
"You wound me darling." He grinned, feeling a little better. He did
so hope Darien Lambert was going to be a product of their relationship.
Whenever he looked at Inez, he always had a feeling it was meant to be, if such
things could be presumed by simple instinct.
"WILMINGTON!" A loud voice tore through
the bar. Buck’s eyes followed the sound to the doors and found his eyes
widening at the sight of Jasper Cray, glaring at him.
"Oh shit!" Buck swore as he saw the hulk
coming toward, with no intention of being friendly or inquiring as to progress
of the repairs. Both Josiah and JD were staring at him, wondering what he was
intended to do before they decided to act.
"The back door’s open!" Inez suggested
quickly, pointing him in the direction of her kitchen. Buck gave her a hasty
kiss on the cheek before bolting for dear life. No sooner had he began running
than Jasper Cray was rumbling after him.
"I’M NOT DONE WITH YOU WILMINGTON!" Jasper screamed after him.
Inez shook her head and thought with a sigh that
he was a rogue but she still loved him.
God was having a lot of fun at her expense.
********
Today she woke up and decided she was going to
live.
For a while there, Mary Travis had not been so
sure. They had returned to Four Corners last night, even though she was very
sore and Chris had not at all been eager to let her make the trip. However,
Mary would risk the journey because she needed to be at home, and after some
convincing by Alex, who liked the idea even less but understood the need was
therapeutic, convinced Chris that it was the best thing for her. It was funny,
she thought on the ride back. Six months ago, she had believed her life to be
devoid of people, even though there were many faces. Now she had Chris in her
life, she had Inez who was her best friend and Alex who was fast becoming
another. Suddenly, her son was not the sole member of her family any more. Her
circle was expanding.
Chris was right, she was never alone.
She mourned the child that might have been and she
was far from recovered over its loss, but she could accept that there would be
children in her future, Darien had told her so. If anything, this child had
proved to her just how much she had in its loss, not how little. Inside, she
prayed that there was a heaven and her little baby was there at this moment,
doing all the things that were stolen before its life even began. Wherever it
was, she hoped it knew the sparkle of magic it had brought to her life and its
father’s, even for a brief moment.
As far as the town was concerned, a terrible
outlaw whom by now had been captured by the seven, was responsible for her
terrible injuries. No one outside the circle knew about the baby, not even
Nettie and Casey. Mary preferred it remain that way. She wanted her grief to be
private and so she returned home to the safety of her house with the intention
of hiding herself away until she was ready to face the world again.
Both Inez and Alex had come by earlier, even Nathan
had dropped in to see how she was faring. If it was not for the impropriety of
it, Mary might have been tempted to let Chris remain in the house with her,
reputation be damned. Unfortunately, it was not something he would allow her to
sacrifice, no matter how defeated she felt. Thus, her best friends had made
themselves available because Chris was in little shape to do much himself,
considering what he had endured to kill that metal monstrosity. Mary knew he
had been shot at least twice, not to mention a dislocated shoulder and numerous
cuts and bruises he received after jumping from a moving train.
It was late morning when Chris finally made his
appearance. He had been staying at the saloon while he was convalescing and she
knew after the hard ride yesterday, he would probably sleep in. Mary remembered
their exchange at the Indian village and how he had struggled to remain at her
side every day since the seven’s return from Eagle Bend. It warmed her inside
to know that he had not been lying when he told her that she would not endure
this sorrow alone.
For she knew in his own way, he grieved for their
child too.
She had remained in bed most of the morning with
no real inclination to leave it when she heard Chris tapping at the door to her
bedroom. Still in her nightgown, Mary saw him peering through the doorway with
an uncertain expression on his face.
"You can come in." She sighed meeting
his gaze with a shadowy smile. With everything else she was feeling, Mary was
in no mood for Chris treating her like a porcelain doll. True, she felt fragile
but she needed him more than anyone else at the moment and was somewhat
surprised that he still believed he was capable of hurting her by his mere
presence. In Mary’s opinion, when a man fought a mechanical beast from the
future by becoming the worm at the end of a hook, it gave the woman in his life
somewhat of an idea about his reliability. He could be so thick
sometimes.
"I missed you.’ She said with the barest hint
of a smile upon meeting his gaze.
Chris dropped his duster on a chair as he entered
the room, limping slightly. She could not see the bandages but knew that his
arm and shoulder were still tender from his injuries. He moved forward a little
stiffer than usual before coming towards the edge of her bed. Instinctively,
Mary slid over as she had done numerous times before when he had slipped in the
covers in the dead of night. He took the gesture as an invitation to join her
and complied immediately, nestling into a comfortable position that allowed her
to rest her head against his chest while accommodating her broken arm.
"How are you feeling Mary?" He asked
quietly, breathing the heavenly scent of her hair into his lungs. It was not so
long ago on that terrible ride from Eagle Bend that he believed he had lost her
forever. Chris was never more grateful for anything than when he found that she
was still alive.
"I’m okay." She replied softly, drawing
more comfort from his warmth next to her than anything else at this moment.
What was this power he had over her? Mary was sometimes at a loss to understand
how simply being with him could be so fulfilling, even in the face of such
terrible loss. "I’ll be up and around in a few days, Alex tells me."
"That’s not what I asked." He answered,
stroking the golden strands of her hair. It soothed her to no end and allowed
her to drift away.
"I know." She admitted a little
guiltily. "I feel like we’ve lost something precious, something that comes
only once in a life time."
He raised her chin and looked at her. "We did
lose something precious Mary," he sighed deciding that he would not lie to
her. "But it’s not the end of the world and some day, we may find it
again."
"I keep thinking of all the things that the
baby might have been." She swallowed, trying not to let the emotion
descend her into another fit of tears. She had not really stopped crying for
any length of time in days. Each time, such thoughts came to mind, it also
brought the full torrent of sorrow back with mind numbing clarity. She knew it
was natural that such feelings would not disappear overnight and that it would
take time to heal properly, but she hated being so vulnerable. It was not what
she was about.
"Me too." Chris whispered, thinking
about the child that would remain nameless forever. "I keep thinking about
how much like you I would like it to have been. I was thinking of a little girl
with your hair." He looked at the flaxen strands in his fingers and
relished its feel against his skin. He felt a pang of grief and pleasure at the
same time and wondered how such paradoxes could exist.
"Or a boy with your eyes." She added
sadly, biting her lip fighting the tears.
"It will happen some day Mary." Chris
held her closer. "I promise you."
And as they lay there together, watching the blue
sky outside her window, Mary was almost ready to believe him because Chris had
been right about one thing.
The future was not set. It was what they made of it.
*******
7th February 1997 – 7 am EST
Darien Lambert found himself peering through the
picture window of the florist shop called Sarah’s Place in exactly the same
place he left it only a short week ago. She was working behind the counter with
her roses and her petunias, creating a display that was no doubt destined for
someone who liked the scent of both. She looked no different than she had the
first moment he laid eyes on her, trimming rose stems while dreaming of things
not so mundane in her emerald colored eyes. The sadness was still there in her
face but so was the picture of John Connor hanging on the wall behind her.
Everything inside the place appeared as it had the first time he saw it and the
only question burning in his mind was whether or not she would remember him.
Time had righted itself because Darien had
returned to an empty warehouse in the middle of the Nevada desert. The date
indicated a full week after his date of journey to the 19th century,
and he realised that Sahmbi had planned it this way because it gave the good
doctor ample time to remove the TRAX control device and all his operations to a
different location. Sahmbi had kept his word to bring Darien home to the 20th
century as promised but he was not about to risk Darien knowing any more than
necessary about his business. Darien did not mind really. After his days in the
19th century, he had no intention of embarking on another ordeal
trying to bring his arch-nemesis to justice. In fact, when he finally managed
to get a ride into the nearest town, since Sahmbi had not left him any
transportation to get back to civilization upon his return, all Darien was
interested in was a shower and Chinese takeaway.
He needed real food and his sneakers.
Upon satisfying those first two important
requirements, Darien ordered Selma to give him a current report on the status
of Miles Bennett Dyson. If Dyson still lived then whatever they had done in
Four Corners was for nothing. Skynet would still bring about Judgement Day in a
scant six months. It was almost with a held breath that Darien learnt that
Miles Dyson had died three years before at the Cyberdine building. Through the
same network that he had used to contact Sahmbi earlier, Darien sent the doctor
the message that their temporary partnership had succeeded. The time line was
restored and the 22nd century should be similarly intact.
He sent that message and another informing Sahmbi
that the détente between them was over. Their cat and mouse game would resume
as soon as he took care of some personal business. To ensure that the 22nd
century was where he had left it, Darien communicated with his commander
through the classifieds. The next day, he found a lone cigar in the ladies room
of the Smithsonian with an attached note.
CAN’T YOU BUY YOUR OWN?
So now that brought him to this moment in time,
standing outside the window once again, staring at Sarah Connor and her flowers
within a florist shop in Reseda, California.
"Captain." Selma spoke up. "You
have been standing here for three minutes already" she pointed out.
Darien frowned. "I’m picking my moment"
he hissed at her quietly. "Since when were you my alarm clock?"
Suddenly, he heard a new voice clearing its throat
and interrupting them. Sarah Connor was standing before him, looking at Darien
with an expression on her face he could only call annoyed. With a sinking
feeling, he realized she did not recognize him and that discovery, hurt more
than it should have. He supposed he should not have been surprised. The
possibility had preyed in his mind even though he did not want to entertain it.
Perhaps, he could get to know her again, without a crisis in time hampering their
relationship…
Sarah’s hands went to her hips as she let out a
sigh and met his gaze critically. "You just going stand there gawking at
me or you going to come in and tell me where the hell you’ve been all week,
Darien?"
"Sarah?" Darien stammered once he
understood that she knew exactly who he was. According to the date, it was
about a week since they had shared dinner together. With his disappearance and
everything, she was naturally upset, considering what he had told her about
Skynet. He was so pleased that she knew whom he was that Darien did not even
care if Sarah was mad at him.
She was staring at him impatiently, trying to
decide why he was lingering outside her door like a tourist. Probably trying to
find some way of explaining where he had disappeared to all week. She hoped he
had a very good excuse. Despite herself, she had a good feeling about
Darien Lambert, no matter how strange he could sometimes be. They were
strangers in time, the both of them and Sarah liked the idea of having someone
who understood what she had been through in her life. Since his absence, she
had tried hard not to assume the worst, that a Terminator had killed him.
However, his being here now seemed to disprove that theory.
"You know," she shook her head wondering
what this strange behavior was all about. "You really shouldn’t talk to
that thing in public. Someone might lock you up."
Darien Lambert could only grin as he followed her
inside, convinced at last that he had finally come home.
The End