"Miles," she whispered, and her heart shriveled with horror. She watched bodies being carried out on stretchers and she forgot to breathe. There were shattered police cars everywhere and the strobing lights of dozens of ambulances. When she looked back the screen had cleared and there was Cyberdyne Corporation… on fire. What kind of jerk leaves the volume on max? Tarissa thought, then answered herself: The type who thinks that sort of thing is funny. The little guy turned over and uttered a muffled protest, but didn't wake up. Her heart pounding, she turned guiltily to Danny and Blythe.
#TWO POINT HOSPITAL ALIEN INFILTRATORS TV#
Sound blared from the TV and she groped frantically for the mute button. If she kept the volume down it probably wouldn't bother them, and there might be something… Tarissa sat on the end of the bed and tapped the remote. Too long? Who could say? How long did "missions" take anyway? Miles, Miles, come home to me! Please, please, please… She looked at the TV and then at Danny and Blythe. He'd slide his arms around her, his beautiful dark eyes smiling… Tarissa shook her head. Miles was less so, and had often teased her out of her irritation over his tardiness by asserting that opposites attract.
Call! She'd never been good at waiting that was why she was so punctual herself.
#TWO POINT HOSPITAL ALIEN INFILTRATORS FULL#
The corners of her full lips wanted to lift in affectionate amusement, but she lacked the physical strength, even for such a little thing. Danny started snoring and she looked at him. Tarissa sighed again and squeezed her eyes shut, whispering a brief prayer for Miles's safe return. The endless sound of cars shushing by might have been lulling… had there been any possibility that she could sleep. If what they'd told her was true, then the loss of Miles's dreams was a small price to pay to ensure that their son and daughter would live to have dreams of their own one day. Tarissa put her hand down on the bed beside him, fearful that touching him might wake him. She looked at her son, awed by the courage in that small package. Then her son had slipped from her grasp and thrown himself over his father's prone body. Then Miles broke from his office, running toward them. She'd grabbed their son and dragged him toward the front of the house. "Take Danny and go! Run! Just run!" he'd shouted. Images crowded into her mind: Miles pressed against his file cabinet, terror on his face as shots destroyed the room, glass shattering and paper turned to confetti swirling around him. Mission-another word that distanced people from what they were doing. They would meet here after the mission, she'd said.
So Sarah Connor had chosen this place from the phone book. The Terminator had said that the T-1000 would probably go to their home, extract information from whomever it found there, and then terminate them. They were in a little motel off the interstate, clean but shabby, showing bare spots in the tired carpet and worn patches on the arms of the sofa, smelling slightly of disinfectant soap. That memory was like probing a broken tooth with your tongue, at once painful and irresistible. The brutal image of the Terminator peeling the flesh off the metal skeleton of its forearm flashed unbidden into her mind's eye. Frightened them and terrified me, she admitted to herself. She'd rather feel guilty for letting them get some muchneeded rest than for yelling at them when they were already so frightened and stressed. But their constant refrain of "Where's Daddy?" and "When's he coming back?" had strained her nerves to the snapping point. She felt a twinge of regret for not keeping them awake. They had wanted so desperately to stay awake for their father's return, had fought so valiantly to keep their eyes open. Blythe and Danny lay totally abandoned to it, like puppies collapsed after a long, hard romp, dark lashes still against soft, plump cheeks. Stirling PROLOGUE A MOTEL, LOS ANGELES: 1995 Tarissa Dyson sat silent and motionless in the motel room's uncomfortable chair and watched her children sleep. Made prettier by use of EBook Design Group Stylesheet. Proofed by DragonTL (was a mess, believe me!). Stirling, SM - T2 Infiltrator (v1.0) (html).html Scanned by Highroller.
0 kommentar(er)
