Another blast wave shook the ground vehemently. The concrete underneath his feet crumbled under the pressure. Adrenaline thundered through his veins. This was his life. He had been ready to fight ever since the future had been unfolded to him.
Tyler looked up and saw a pack of a.r.u.[1]'s fly over. Their search lights flashed over the streets and the ruins, scanning for possible threats. A stab of sadness shot through him: he wasn't on the rooftops or any higher place. He felt like a.r.u.-surfing today.
Instead of giving in to temptation by finding a higher place so he could jump on the back of one of those flying metal monsters and hitch a free ride, he gestured the two Rooks to take their strategic positions. Rooks were Resistance recruits, fresh from what could be called boot camp. It was their first night out on the constant battlefield that was Los Angeles.
John had gotten word of two more pockets just north and northeast of the Hills, and since the Rooks had to learn how it was to be out on the battlefield he had chosen them to come with him instead of his regular support team. Rescuing pockets was not without danger but it was one of the safest tasks around.
Under his guidance and with his knowledge this should be a piece of cake, even for the Rooks Rodriguez and Thompson. They had to learn someday and today were as good as any other day.
He looked at the a.r.u.'s again and sighed disappointed. John and many at the base with him could not appreciate his love for a.r.u.-surfing. John and he were still the best of friends but in the absence of his mother John had started to become a tyrant. It was either his way or the proverbial highway. By now Tyler was the only one left who would call him to reason and who would second-guess his strategic decisions.
The war had changed everyone. It slowly seeped into the heart and soul to stay there forever. He had seen it in the other Tyler whose words "I’m no hero… I’m a monster, forged in the heat of battle, formed and defined by war, death and destruction" still haunted him in thoughts. War consumed the most innocent of heart and corrupted the purest of souls. No one remained unscathed.

Sarah lowered her hand with the palm upwards so the two German Shepherds could sniff her scent. One of the dogs even licked her hand and she chuckled at the roughness of the animal's tongue.
Catherine had told her about this Resistance base and she had decided to check it out. Maybe she could lend a hand in teaching them about the machines.
"State your name, stranger," one of the three Privates barked at her.
She looked at him. He was the only one without a dog.
"Sarah... Sarah Baum," she said slowly.
"State your business, Baum," the Private growled while he jotted down her name on his clipboard.
"I'm... A teacher."
"This is CD base. We have no need for teachers or any other civilians here," the Private grumbled. "Unless you teach how to kick tin heads asses," he grinned, obviously amused with himself.
She felt her temper ignite but managed to keep it in check. Instead she pretended that she had no idea what he was talking about: "Tin heads?"
The grin disappeared from the Private's face: "I have to clear this with C, but I doubt he will give you permission to get in. Follow me."
The Private lead her into a small room, gestured she should take a seat and closed and locked the door behind him on his way out.
"What the fuck?!" She exclaimed furiously, trying to open the door.
"Sorry, Ms. Baum. C.'s strict orders," the Private said on the other side of the door. "A matter of base security. We can't have strangers wandering about and later have them telling Skynet our secrets in exchange for their lives."
For a second she thought about telling that smug Private her real name, but decided against it: "Why not do a fucking cavity search while you're at it?" She growled.

The first things Tyler noticed when they had reached the first pocket was the absence of the Hound and the small trails of blood on the floor. It had become standard procedure to send a Hound to secure the pocket when it had been discovered. Hounds were specially trained for this task of determining if the pocket was real or a trap. They were usually former Rooks who had failed the Resistance boot camp, teamed up with dogs that had been specially trained for this task.
Tyler liked the Hounds-division because their lack of confidence and what else was required on the battlefield they were most useful units.
"Awaiting orders, sir," Rook Thompson whispered as he made a slow 360 turn to make sure the coast was clear.
Tyler gave Rook Rodriguez a hand signal. The young fighter nodded and descended the second flight of stairs. He had barely reached the bottom of the stairs when hell broke loose. Rook Rodriguez was riddled with a rain of bullets. Tyler moved to the edge cautiously and saw a steel skeleton appear at the bottom of the stairs. Its bright red eyes searched for a new target. Instinctively Tyler stepped back into the shadows of the landing. He knew that it would not matter but it would give him time to get ready. If this tin can was what he thought it was, and he did not doubt it, Skynet had reached a new stage in its determination to wipe out mankind.
Whispers in the tunnel had told him that Skynet had a new toy on the market. To him and a handful of others this wasn't exactly a new toy but for most of the survivors it was.
Metal resounded on concrete. Tyler grabbed his bow, took out a thermate arrow and prepared himself. Metal reverberated on concrete. The iron man came up the stairs, wielding two machine guns. Metal re-echoed on concrete. Tyler aimed and fired. The arrow flew from the bow, driving into the hydraulics of the steel skeleton's neck. The friction caused a spark, igniting the thermate in the weakened tip. Metal collapsed on the concrete steps when the steel skull dissolved in thermate flames.
Tyler went down the steps, kicking the machine aside with his foot and knelt over Rook Rodriguez.
"Sorry, kid," he whispered while he removed the dog tag and took Rodriguez's weapons.
He heaved a deep sad sigh, put the dog tag in his pocket and rose to his feet again. He looked at Rook Thompson, who looked close to throwing up his cat-rat-stew.
"Sir, the survivors?" Rook Thompson muttered upset when Tyler came up the stairs.
"What survivors?" Tyler countered. "This was a waste of time and life."
"What do you mean, sir?" Rook Thompson asked.
"They never had a chance," Tyler answered slowly.

The door was unlocked and opened slowly. Sarah looked up from where she was sitting. Two young girls were pushed into the room: one red-haired teenager, the other a dark-haired little girl.
"You two wait in here," the Private, who had been so disrespectful to Sarah earlier, said gruffly while he closed and locked the door again.
Sarah managed to smile in a motherly fashion when she saw the scared looks on the girls' faces. Both girls looked familiar to her but she could see that they weren't related. Then she remembered where she had seen the red-haired teen before: in Dr. Sherman's office, only she had been a few years younger.
The dark-haired girl, who desperately tried to hide behind her red-haired friend, looked familiar in a different way. Slowly Sarah got to her feet and went over to them: "Hi," she said with a warm smile. "I'm Sarah."
The red-haired girl studied her for a few seconds in a way that sent shivers down Sarah's spine. It was almost machinelike how the girl looked at her. Finally the girl said: "I'm Savannah, and this here is Robin."
"Nice to meet you, Savannah," Sarah said friendly before she sat on her heels. "Nice to meet you too, Robin."
The girl name Robin turned beet red and hid behind Savannah. Robin? Sarah thought. The other Robin?
"Are you little Robin O'Conlin?" Sarah asked in a soothing voice after she had remembered the other Tyler mentioning that name in his nightmarish sleep once.
Apparently the young girl felt a little more at ease because she came out from behind Savannah and nodded enthusiastically. Shock struck Sarah's heart now that she could get a better look at the little girl. This was definitely Tyler's little girl. She could see the strong resemblance between father and daughter. But how was that possible?
The realisation sent a dagger through her heart. After desperately trying to swallow the big lump forming in her throat, out of fear she might choke, she sent the little girl another warm smile.
"I'm Savannah Weaver," the older girl stated, obviously annoyed that she was left out.
For a moment Sarah feared that she was going to faint: this was the daughter of the woman who had blown up the world by developing Skynet.
"Are you okay, Sarah?" Robin squeaked panic-stricken with eyes wide with fear.
Sarah stood up straight again and looked at Savannah. She studied the girl closely but could not feel the hate she had expected to feel for the daughter of that monster: "Whatever you do or say, never give them your last name," she advised.
"Why not? Because I share my last name with that metal bitch who killed then posed as my mom?"
Sarah nodded: "Metal bitch?" She asked after Savannah's words had sunk in.
"After the helicopter accident she started to act all freaky, like she didn't feel anything anymore. I only understood why when she tried to kill me on Judgment Day," Savannah answered with a voice brimming over with hate. "That bitch killed my mom and dad and I was only kept alive to keep up appearances."

Tyler felt relief wash over him when it turned out that the second pocket of that night was not an ambush. The Hound had welcomed them heartily after making sure that they were good people.
Now he walked down the main tunnel to meet up with the pocket leader. Left and right he saw kids, adults and elderly, dressed in rags. Smudged faces turned to him expectantly as if he were the one to rescue them. He swore inwardly when he almost tripped over something small. As he looked down he saw it was a little girl, no older than four years old. She was chasing an emaciated cat, probably for dinner. He smiled friendly at her when she looked up at him with big startled eyes.
A woman in a dirty and torn military uniform came walking towards him. She extended her hand and introduced herself: "I'm Catherine Ryan," she said firmly.
"Sergeant Devlin, at your service, ma'am," Tyler said as he shook her hand.
She sent him a funny look: "You're military?"
"That's one way of putting it," Tyler answered wryly. "We're not a real army per se. Just a group of people fighting against Skynet's tyranny."
"Oh," she muttered.
"Disappointed, ma'am?"
"No, I just thought since you're ranked that-"
The secure door flew off its hinges and a metal skeleton, like he had seen earlier that night, barged in and just like the one earlier it wielded two machine guns. It opened fire immediately. Rook Thompson, closest to the secure door, raised his weapon to take aim but he was too late as the bullets riddled him. Automatically Tyler reached for his bow and arrows.
"Fuck!" He growled through gritted teeth when he remembered that he had left them at the secure door.
It had become standard procedure to leave your weapons at the secure door when you went to meet with a pocket leader for the first time. By entering unarmed you would show them you were to be trusted and that you trusted them. Tyler thought it was a stupid, senseless rule that could get you killed.
He pushed Catherine into an alcove before diving out of the line of fire himself. He peeked around the corner and watched helplessly as the machine systematically killed everyone on its path. It made no distinct between young and old, male and female, sick and healthy. It just killed without mercy.
People screamed in pain and horror. They pleaded for their lives but it fell on deaf ears as the metal man slowly continued down the hall.
Tyler had to do something to stop this killing spree. Without a second thought, he ran towards the metal man in a zigzag pattern, keeping his head low, charging it below its waist to knock it over. For a second time that night Tyler heard metal collide with concrete.