Terminator: Realities


BOOK 1 John Connor is alive. His friend Quin finds himself in a new place and must convince John to be the savior he was meant to be while battling a new type of Terminator. Please note: the original works are completely owned by James Cameron & Gale Anne Hurd and based on their story "Terminator".

Scifi / Action
Jose Rodriguez
Age Rating:

Table of Contents / 'FOOTBALL'

Terminator: Realities

By Jose Rodriguez Jr

Based on Terminator by James Cameron & Gale Anne Hurd

Cover by Tatiana Villa

Copyright 2021 Jose Rodriguez Jr


This is a work of fiction. Characters, business, events and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.


Table of Contents



3. FNG (f****** new guy)




7. O/B/G (oldie but goldie or original gangster)



10. PBJ (peanut butter & jelly)




Everything was destroyed, and it was dark. The ground was littered with the bones of the fire’s first victims. The only things left standing were the ruins of a once-great, world-spanning civilization.

Now, a war raged between humans and machines. What was left of humanity formed what would be known as the Resistance. They fought against Skynet, the computer that now sought to wipe them out with Terminators.

Once activated, Skynet had become self-aware, went rogue, and started a nuclear war that nearly annihilated humanity. Terminators were the AI robots created and led by Skynet. They were just as numerous and varied as the human race.

In one of the now rock-ridden cities; T-70s, T-500s, T-600s, and T-800s, skeletal machines, the Terminators, patrolled. They weren’t alone, however, two ground and two flying HKs patrolled the area as well. HK was just short for hunter-killer. They were just as deadly as any man-made military machine and maybe even worse, were completely automated. Ground HKs, basically tanks, were big and rolled around on treads. Flying Hks, as the name implies, were VTOL-capable aircraft with a devasting array of weapons for carrying out their mission. All of them had been designed and developed by Skynet for one purpose: the extermination of the human race.

Among the rubble, two humans, fully shrouded in dark-colored clothes, very quietly crawled against what was left of a wall. One carried a standard plasma rifle while the other carried a high-powered sniper rifle. Ahead of them was a small nook made from the surrounding debris. They made their way to it as silently as possible. The Terminators were just on the other side, so the least amount of noise was of paramount importance.

Nearby was a small path leading to the building’s basement. One of the men used a hand signal for the other to follow him down and inside. They could have easily stood and walked the distance, but with the machines around, it was far too dangerous. Instead, they got back down on their stomachs and slowly crawled their way in.

One of the men cautiously opened the basement door and checked the room before entering. It was intact, mostly just dust with paintings, chairs, and a small table lying about.

The man removed his face covering, revealing himself to be John Connor. He waited for his partner to close the door before whispering. “Quin, make the call.”

John Connor, a scrappy-looking man in his forties and a scar on the left side of his face, was the leader of the Resistance.

“You think these walls will be a problem?” Quin whispered back. Quin Uno, son of Jason Uno and Dulce Qi. His father wanted to name him Li Qian Uno, but a compromise with his mother led to Quin Uno. She wasn’t too fond of his name possibly being mistranslated to 2001. About the same height and a little thinner than John, he was also in his mid-twenties serving as Connor’s personal protector and one of many good friends. He was the one carrying the sniper rifle. It took a lot of training, but he eventually became one of the Resistance’s top crack shooters.

John shook his head. “Shouldn’t be a problem,” he said in a low voice. “We should be close enough.”

Quin kneeled beside one of the walls, set his rifle down, and unpacked the radio transceiver he carried on his back. After a few quick adjustments, he was ready to go and whispered into it. “Coach, this is Quin.”

‘Coach’ was the codename for the man in charge of the Resistance HQ in the area. He was located underground with a few other members. “Coach here,” he said. “We’ve been expecting you, ”

The volume on Quin’s portable radio was low but good enough for him to hear. “Coach, this is Quin,” he replied. “I am in the area and I have ‘Football’. Repeat. I am in the area and I have Football.”

Coach rubbed his face with both hands and breathed a sigh of relief. “How’s Football?” he asked.

“He’s alive and well at the moment,” Quin answered. “But we have Terminators all over the place. Can you help? We need at least a little distraction.”

“For Football,” Coach said. “We’ll give you a lot more than a little distraction.” He then turned to a man sitting next to him and nodded for him to switch channels on his radio “This is Coach to all players in the field, Football is in play, engage the Terminators.” he said. “Repeat. Football is in play, engage the Terminators.”

The next thing Jonh and Quin heard was the eruption of battle outside.

“That must be our queue,” John said.

Quin quickly packed the radio. “I know the way,” he said. “Let me go first.”

The sound of battle slowly grew deafening as both men crept up the stairs. A glance of the field, in any direction, showed explosions now dotting the land and lasers flying everywhere.

John and Quin crawled and quickly skipped from one hiding spot to another.

Hanging from John’s belt was a regular handheld walkie-talkie modified by the Resistance to become active at a certain distance, with a green light turning on to act as an indicator. Almost as soon as it became active, John came to a rest against a wall.

Quin peeked through a crack in the wall with the scope on his rifle. It was a special scope for detecting human body heat versus the heat given off by the Terminators, similar to a thermal scope. A human had a normal heat signature. Terminators showed up as varying shades of red. He held off on taking any shot. Shooting now would only give away his position, and with John in tow, that wasn’t a chance he was willing to take.

“Coach,” John called. “This is Football, I need you to lay down a strobe for the rendezvous,”

“You got it,” Coach said and immediately jumped from his chair while grabbing a walkie-talkie and running to another part of the base. As he ran past a shelf, he grabbed a small metal ball and made a hard turn to go outside where others had taken up positions overlooking the battle. It was one story off the ground but secured with dozens of Resistance members in and around the area. All of the fighting was taking place in spots other than there. The guerilla style of warfare the Resistance used was meant to confuse the enemy, with the shooting and moving coming rapidly from different spots.

Coach twisted the ball and then dropped it before speaking into the walkie-talkie. “Ok, the strobe is down.”

John checked for any machines in the area before equipping a special pair of binoculars to see where the strobe was. An area flashed with light repeatedly through the binoculars. It wasn’t visible to the naked eye and, hopefully, from the intel they had, wasn’t visible to the machines either.

Quin came around, kneeling beside John. The area ahead was clear, the machines were preoccupied.

John checked with his binoculars again before pointing the way for Quin. “Twelve o’clock,” he said. “Dead ahead about fifty yards.”

Quin took the lead. “Ok, stick close.” He said.

John followed, moving from wall to wall, crawling through any ditch the entire time to the safety of the rendezvous point.

Quin and several other members surrounded John like a herd of elephants and guided him inside the complex.

John met up with Coach, Shawn O’Neil, a slender man with blue eyes and blond shoulder-length hair. Step-brother to Quin and a little older. “Shawn, thanks,” John said, shaking hands with his general. “I need a radio to talk to our men out there.”

Shawn gave a quick salute before saying. “Sir, right this way.”

John followed Shawn to the transceiver and wasted no time issuing orders. “Listen up men. This is Football. I want anyone with a SAM to focus on taking out those flying HKs immediately. Then, I want you all to concentrate on the ground HKs. Use your canister bombs. Snipers, take out any Terminator that comes into your crosshair…”

Quin, along with another Resistance member crawled rapidly to a new spot out in the field. He peeked into his scope to find two Terminators moving away. He quickly aimed at one’s head and squeezed the trigger.

The Terminator fell with a clean hole going straight through its head. Anything that had been in the bullet’s path was blown outward like brain matter. Being so close, the second Terminator immediately noticed its fallen comrade. It barely had time to process the bullet’s trajectory before it too was taken out with another headshot from Quin.

Several SAMs went up almost simultaneously, giving the flying HKs next to no room to dodge. One HK avoided being struck by the first missile, only to inadvertently move into the path of another. The second flying HK barely had a chance to move out of the way before it was struck by multiple missiles.

Quin crawled rapidly with the other Resistance member to a barely-there corner of a building. Much of the building was gone, in ruins. Quin was nicely hidden with his shroud that blended in with the surroundings. The other Resistance member was also concealed by the rubble but exposed himself just enough to the HK when he attempted to toss a canister bomb. The ground HK instantly acquired a lock on its target and fired, blowing the Resistance member to pieces.

Quin went wide-eyed at the sight of the canister bomb rolling in front of him. He quickly grabbed it and tossed it as he rolled over on his back, he wasn’t about to make the same mistake as his partner and expose himself.

It was a lucky toss, as the canister bomb landed directly in the path of the HK, treads rolling over it. The following explosion tore through the HK, leaving it a burning pile of wreckage.

Quin crawled to the other end of the ruined building and peeked through the rubble with his scope. At some distance, he spotted several other Resistance fighters taking out the other HK with their canister bombs.

The only things in the field now were the Terminators. Each was then taken out by the guerrilla warfare common among the Resistance. They could be easily distracted by the sudden throwing of dozens of rocks and grenades that made it hard for the machines to determine what was a threat and what wasn’t. Much of the Resistance was able to slowly close in, encircling the enemy and eliminating it in a crossfire.

Shawn came running. “Sir,” he called. “Looks good. We have just a few Terminators out in the field to take care of.”

John looked at him before going back to the radio. “Regulars, all regulars, fall back into support positions for snipers. Snipers, don’t stray more than fifty yards from any support post, and do not hesitate to call for backup if needed.”

Quin laid by several other members who had a radio. Upon hearing the message he began to crawl away to carry out John’s order. The Terminators were terrifying in most instances that found one unprepared to deal with such a threat, however, couldn’t put up much of a fight against a well-informed army waiting for them.

In the end, daylight broke, and humans carefully scavaged through the remains of the enemy.

Shawn approached John. “Sir,” he said. “Seems clear. Reports indicate we got them all.”

Quin entered the room and stood by John. “I made it here in one piece,” he said. “I ran from across the field. Didn’t find anything.

“Pack everything up,” John said. “Head back to base. We need to leave this area immediately. I wouldn’t want to be here when the machines come back.”

Shawn nodded and saluted. “Right away, Sir.” He said before moving on.

John looked over at Quin, patting him on the arm, and said “Let’s go.”

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