Episode Three - Teaser
Enjoy this teaser of episode three!
There is a moment in combat where time stands almost still. A moment where every action and reaction happens in slow motion, where every sense is strained to its maximum potential, and sight, sound, touch and even taste, are processed and recorded down to the tiniest detail. For Sarah Connor, that moment begins with the harsh scrape of a metal door and the bitter taste of fear in a single indrawn breath.
The terminator stepped over the threshold and into the warehouse, every movement a sickening combination of determination and mechanical grace. Sarah saw a flash of her own startled features in mirrored sunglasses, and her reflection was enough of a shock to make her move. Spinning away, she caught a glimpse of a sawed-off Winchester lifted in delicate, long-fingered hands, the dual barrels pointing at her back.
Recognition and betrayal ran along beside her as Sarah fled into the warehouse. It wasn't their warehouse, and Sarah allowed herself an instant of gratitude for that. She was alone; she hadn't brought anyone with her to investigate the Zeira Corp properties. No one else would have to pay for her stupidity.
This building was larger than the one where they'd made their temporary home, and it gave Sarah a few more places to hide, but she was painfully aware that the only weapons she had were a Glock tucked into the back of her jeans and her wits.
It was only battle-hardened reflexes that saved her life as she ducked around a corner, wincing as the boom of the shotgun assaulted her ears. An explosion of wallboard and plaster splintered outward, raining particles over Sarah’s hair and jacket.
Ripping her handgun free, Sarah started running down a narrow hall, chambering a round and trying to come up with a plan. She risked a glance over her shoulder, anger erupting in her guts at the sight of a face she’d trusted with her life… with her son’s life. The terminator walked through the cloud of plaster particles that still hung heavy in the air, unhurried but intent.
In a moment of silence, Sarah heard the tiny, all too familiar sound of a shotgun shell pinging off the warehouse floor and another sliding home in its place. Ducking behind a row of computers, so new they were still wrapped in plastic, she heard the terminator’s heavy tread getting methodically closer. Sarah reviewed her options as she plotted her fastest and safest route to the back door, knowing it would take her into another empty warehouse full of used desks, shelves, and filing cabinets.
She couldn’t run back to get help. Sarah would be damned if she brought metal down on Savannah’s head, or let anyone else get caught in the crossfire. This was between her and the machine.
It ended here. Sarah just hoped she would be the one left standing.
*****
Check in Monday for Episode Three of The Sarah Connor Chronicles Virtual Season.
There is a moment in combat where time stands almost still. A moment where every action and reaction happens in slow motion, where every sense is strained to its maximum potential, and sight, sound, touch and even taste, are processed and recorded down to the tiniest detail. For Sarah Connor, that moment begins with the harsh scrape of a metal door and the bitter taste of fear in a single indrawn breath.
The terminator stepped over the threshold and into the warehouse, every movement a sickening combination of determination and mechanical grace. Sarah saw a flash of her own startled features in mirrored sunglasses, and her reflection was enough of a shock to make her move. Spinning away, she caught a glimpse of a sawed-off Winchester lifted in delicate, long-fingered hands, the dual barrels pointing at her back.
Recognition and betrayal ran along beside her as Sarah fled into the warehouse. It wasn't their warehouse, and Sarah allowed herself an instant of gratitude for that. She was alone; she hadn't brought anyone with her to investigate the Zeira Corp properties. No one else would have to pay for her stupidity.
This building was larger than the one where they'd made their temporary home, and it gave Sarah a few more places to hide, but she was painfully aware that the only weapons she had were a Glock tucked into the back of her jeans and her wits.
It was only battle-hardened reflexes that saved her life as she ducked around a corner, wincing as the boom of the shotgun assaulted her ears. An explosion of wallboard and plaster splintered outward, raining particles over Sarah’s hair and jacket.
Ripping her handgun free, Sarah started running down a narrow hall, chambering a round and trying to come up with a plan. She risked a glance over her shoulder, anger erupting in her guts at the sight of a face she’d trusted with her life… with her son’s life. The terminator walked through the cloud of plaster particles that still hung heavy in the air, unhurried but intent.
In a moment of silence, Sarah heard the tiny, all too familiar sound of a shotgun shell pinging off the warehouse floor and another sliding home in its place. Ducking behind a row of computers, so new they were still wrapped in plastic, she heard the terminator’s heavy tread getting methodically closer. Sarah reviewed her options as she plotted her fastest and safest route to the back door, knowing it would take her into another empty warehouse full of used desks, shelves, and filing cabinets.
She couldn’t run back to get help. Sarah would be damned if she brought metal down on Savannah’s head, or let anyone else get caught in the crossfire. This was between her and the machine.
It ended here. Sarah just hoped she would be the one left standing.
*****
Check in Monday for Episode Three of The Sarah Connor Chronicles Virtual Season.