Terminator Salvation: Cold War

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Gunfire sounded above their heads. Explosions lit up the sky. Staring up in shock through the sundered ceiling of the storage car, Molly caught a glimpse of a Resistance warplane taking on the surprised Hunter-Killer. The noisy aerial combat was the answer to her prayers.

She knew at once who to thank for this unexpected stroke of luck

Losenko, you old sea dog! She punched the air with her fist. I should have known I could count on you!

She wasn’t about to let this gift horse go to waste.

“Out!” she hollered at Sitka. “Now!”

The women rushed out of the railcar, leaving Doc Rathbone’s lifeless body behind, along with several kilos of primed plastic explosive. They scrambled down the piled wooden trestles, which were now riddled with bullet holes. Averting their eyes from the grisly remains of their comrades, they sprinted alongside the river toward the woods. Snowmobile tracks crisscrossed the bloody snow. The icy spray of water pelted their faces. Molly gripped her pistol in one hand, the detonator remote in the other. She looked about anxiously for the snowmachines, but there were none in sight. She counted her blessings.

Maybe our luck is changing....

Sitka kept pace beside her. She nodded at the detonator.

“Forget something?”

“Not for a moment.” Molly glanced back at the plundered train. It was maybe sixty yards behind her. Far enough, she decided. She spotted a fractured concrete pier thrown clear by the train crash and explosions. It was lying sideways at the edge of the river, only a few yards to their right. They weren’t going to find any better shelter.

“Cover your ears!”

Sitka recklessly turned to take in the fireworks, but Molly grabbed her and tossed her behind the uprooted pier instead. “Duck your head, you loon. Unless you want those freckles blown off your skull.”

She clicked the detonator button.

The C-4 charges went off in unison. A tremendous explosion shook the valley, ripping out the train’s guts. More of the cliff gave way. Rockslides crashed down on the Skynet Express, hammering it to a pulp. A cloud of smoke and dust, liberally mixed with yellowcake, billowed up into the sky. Uranium scattered like snowflakes in a blizzard. They’d be digging radioactive powder out of the soil for years to come, but, after Judgment Day, what was a little more fall-out?

The important thing was: Skynet would have to do without.

We did it, Molly thought. Despite everything, we did it.

“Bye, Doc,” Sitka whispered. The blast had surely vaporized the old man’s body. “Never forget you.”

They lifted their heads cautiously. Ears ringing, Molly surveyed the aftermath of the blast. Mangled machinery and charred body parts were strewn all over the terrain. It was like Judgment Day all over again. She spied one of the train’s bullet-shaped heads lying smoking on the other side of the river. Its demonic red eyes flickered briefly, then went out for good. The Skynet Express was well and truly dead at last.

About time.

A second explosion, coming from further up the canyon, startled her. The ground quaked as something heavy crashed to earth a few miles away, beyond the demolished train and bridge. A churning pillar of smoke rose on the horizon. Molly searched the sky, realizing that she had lost track of the aerial dogfight that had saved their butts before. She wondered who had gone down in flames. The fighter? The HK?

Both?

Sitka stared at the smoke, too.

“Think the pilot made it?”

“Who knows?” Molly said. “We need to get out of here if we’re ever going to find out.”

They weren’t out of the woods yet. Or into the woods, to be more exact. Taking Sitka by the hand, she turned away from the dismembered train and started thinking about the fastest way back to camp. They had a long, scary hike ahead of them.

Wish I knew where those fucking Snowminators were.

The ear-pounding roar of a two-stroke engine provided an answer faster than she would have liked. A snow-machine barreled out of the woods in front of them, spraying a roostertail of white powder behind it. Fresh blood glistened on its front skis. A second machine appeared on the other side of the river. Another engine growled in the hills around them. The damn machines were closing in on them. Evil red optical sensors fixed the women in their sights. The muzzles of their mini-guns flashed.

“Down!”

Molly and Sitka dived behind the other side of the concrete pier. A furious barrage of bullets chipped away at the sideways foundation. Molly heard the snowmachine roaring toward them. She remembered what had happened to Tom Jensen. The crumbling concrete block wasn’t going to shield them for long.

She looked around frantically, trying to find some way out. The spray from the rushing river sprinkled her face again. Molly’s gaze seized on the frothing white water and rapids.

It’s our only chance.

Thrusting her pistol into her belt, she yanked the heavy pack off Sitka’s shoulders. It was only going to weigh her down.

“Hey!” the girl protested. “What’s that for?”

There was no time to explain. The Snowminators would be on them in a second.

“Shut up and follow me!”

Keeping low, she dived into the freezing river. Bullets whizzed over her head, but she could barely hear them over the crash of the rapids. The current gripped her and sent her hurtling downstream at a breakneck pace, far from the deadly machines. Tossed about like flotsam and jetsam, she fought to keep her head above the water. Churning white froth invaded her mouth and nostrils. She kicked and sputtered, swallowing a mouthful of ice water, then spitting it out again. The sudden, frigid immersion shocked her to her marrow. Her heart skipped a beat.

She tumbled over the deep rapids.

There was another loud splash behind her.

“Molly!”

Twisting her head, she caught a glimpse of Sitka bobbing in the water not far away.

“Where are you?”

Molly reached out for the teen, but the relentless current tore them apart. The river carried them away.

Molly tried to remember if Sitka knew how to swim.