Terminator Salvation_ The Official Movie Novelization - Alan Dean Foster [44]
“Yeah, that’ll work,” the man growled. “Wait until we land and they dump us in a pot, or whatever.” His hands bunched into fists. “I’m not waiting around for whatever the machines got in store for me. I’m fighting back now.” He let his gaze sweep the compartment. “Who’s with me?”
The gauntlet he threw down was allowed to lie where it fell as his challenge was met by a deafening silence from the rest of the downcast prisoners. He kicked at the unyielding floor, unable to scuff the smoothly machined surface.
“Cowards.”
Ignoring him, Reese shifted Star against him. Having moved to join them, Virginia took one of the little girl’s hands in her own. “I’m going to tell you a story. Guaranteed to make you smile. Okay?”
Staring up at her, Star nodded.
But she did not smile back.
***
It was raining hard and Wright was cold again. The downpour didn’t seem to bother Williams. Or maybe she was just one of those stoic types who like to pretend they are immune to whatever the world cared to throw at them, be it bad weather, harsh language, or explosive projectiles. He had known many people like that and thought it a foolish way to go through life. Marcus Wright had never seen much point in trying to deny reality.
They had arrived at a racing arena of some sort, and clearly it had been a long time since anyone had taken a victory lap around the old racetrack. With humankind locked in a battle for its very survival against the machines, the devotion—even in another era—of so much time and effort to something so superfluous seemed not merely wasteful but obscene. Wright didn’t care whether the track had been home to pointlessly circling horses, deceived dogs, or supercharged engines masquerading as cars. What mattered now was that it offered the promise of shelter from the elements, which was more valuable than anything it had ever hawked when performing its intended function.
The first overhang they encountered was not large, but it was intact and kept off the rain. Moving as far in away from the weather as the structure would allow, Williams regarded their surroundings with satisfaction. They should be safe here for a while. Though the machines were immune to the rain, they preferred not to operate during strong downpours. Heavy rain complicated electronic perception of their surroundings and occasionally interfered with bipedal movement. Even the most powerful machines preferred to operate on a stable surface rather than mud.
“Looks like a good place to camp for the night.” Williams took a last glance at the compass before flipping it shut and slipping it back into her suit pocket. “I think if we can maintain the same pace as today, we can make it to my base by tomorrow night.”
Wright’s attention remained focused on their surroundings. The track was a useful place to stay because the open area fronting their shelter would allow them to see anything that was approaching while it was still a good distance off. Personally, except for the chill, he was enjoying the rain. In a world gone mad it was a familiar and insofar as he could determine unaffected companion from the past.
Turning away from the wind- and water-swept track, he watched as Williams slipped the pack off her back. She was moving slowly, deliberately. Using both hands she lowered her service belt to the ground. Eschewing comment, he took note of the holster and the oversized pistol it held. That was when he saw the dark stain that had soaked part of her flight suit. She winced as she dragged off the underjacket. As his eyes roved over her, his gaze settled on the gash above her arm. Something gleamed there that was not exposed flesh. In addition