Kyle Reese tags along John Connor whenever he goes; in terms of Resistance work load. They are like best friends. 'Best friend' is commonly used to describe the relationship between Connor and Reese. That is how most of the Resistance members (Including Washman) describe John and Reese. I do not know what 'friend' means even with Washman trying to teach me. But perhaps today I will learn the definition.

"Friend means someone you know and have a bond of mutual affection," Washman explains. "They are usually supportive and willing to do anything for their pal. Pal is just another word for friend, so is Bud."

"Humans have a lot of words to replace 'friend'," I said.

I hear feet padding along metal, twigs breaking, and birds flapping their wings.

"Yeah," Washman said, walking down the street. "That we do."

I look around scanning the city street.

I saw two figures below the ledge and a puppy yapping. Oh right, more survivors. I stop in my tracks while Washman goes on talking about the numerous phrases for the word 'friend' not even turning his head towards me. He is that kind of guy who keeps talking even though his accomplice has left. I went in through the doorless building with my gun lowered towards the floor. I register a table, chipped chairs, a lantern recently turned off on the table, two plates, streaks on what once had been dust riddled, and a carpet pushed back within the room. The survivors are upstairs. They could not have been here long s the dust says the survivors just arrived hours ago.

I go up the stairs being careful listening to the building's sounds. My boots creak on the wooden steps. I went up another set of stairs, through a doorless threshold, and came up on the roof. I saw two humans hiding under the table. I had a soft smile coming over towards the table towards the two survivors. Oh, then there is puppy yapping. I look down to see a beagle hopping up and down running around my legs.

"Cute dog," I said.

The dog steps back growling at me.

"Good grief," I said. "Dogs should get over me." I turn towards the survivors then lower myself down to their level. "Come out, you don't need to be scared of some Resistance soldier." I hold my hand out towards the boys. "It is okay--"

The dog bit my hand.

"Ow!" I said, waving my hand with the dog still attached. "Damn it, my hand is not a treat!"

I manage to pry the dog off which resulted in Washman coming up the stairs (After finally realizing his little walking pal is on the roof) right behind me. My hand had lost skin from the dog bite. I take a glove out then slide it on covering up the metal. I notice the smallest survivor is a little boy about ten years old with strange eyes that seem shrouded in fog but are not fog.

"He is one of us," Washman said. "He is not with Skynet."

"It is a Terminator," The oldest boy said. "How can we trust a Terminator?"

I frown.

"I am not just a Terminator," I said. "I am a Resistant Soldier."

The ten year old boy held his hand out for me.

"Billy!" The older boy shouts.

I help Billy up from out under the table.

"They are coming for you," Billy said.

I rise a brow.

"Huh?" I said. "Who?"

"Don't listen to him!" The older boy said, getting out scrambling on his feet acting scared. "Don't!"

"Skynet is coming," Billy said.

"What's wrong with his eyes, lad?" Washman asks.

"He is blind," The older boy said. "He is a Psychic."

"Try,try, try hard as you can to resist," Billy said. "Skynet has decided to make you it's host."

That sounded like a death sentence.

Skynet is a computer program taking one step forwards to being in reality in the flesh.

"You are going to the children center with your pup and brother," Washman said. "Don't listen to the young boy, T-11."

I knew much about Skynet because of small talk and paper work. I read the paper work within a hour then made my choice last week. What I know about Skynet is from listening to the whispers acting like I was too focused on the ceiling or something else to throw them off guard like juggling a couple pieces of screws leaning against the wall. The stares I get for trying to engage in conversation with humans and the silence met with is utterly rude. No matter how they fall silent, the group dispersing when I enter, no matter what they do I will try to be a human.

The Children Center is located off the base of the Resistance underground far from Terminator grasp. I cannot go to the Children Center because of the magnets that works specifically on Terminator body metal make up attraction. Humans can only go through the tunnel not machines. I suppose that is what I am fated to be reminded of every day in my unfortunate life. It doesn't help what the arrogant humans have been doing to me. It doesn't really help fancying Elizabeth Collins because of her soft fine skin and the gorgeous fine hair rolling on her shoulders.

Now it seemed fishy Washman is agreeing with a survivor about not listening to the young boy.

Let's change the scene to outside the building about 15 minutes later.

"Do you know something about myself that I do not,Washman?" I ask, as we are leading the boys to the Children Center.

"You are new," Washman said.

I roll an eye.

"I know that," I said. "But what do you know that I do not?"

Washman clears his throat.

"You might not want to hear it," Washman said.

I stop in my tracks.

"I do want to hear it," I said. "I am the one living the life of a Hybrid Terminator!"

Washman sighs stopping as well with the boys and their yapping dog.

"If what they say is true," Washman said. "You don't have a choice."

"I do have a choice," I said. "This is my life!"

"But you are a machine," Washman said. "Not a human."

"What has everyone been saying about me?" I ask.

"You are Skynet's shell," Washman said. "Trying to infultrate and preparing for the transition."

"I am not a empty shell," I said. "I am speaking to you."

"Well, they don't see you have a soul," Washman said. "They think your entire personality is a decoy."

"So you know Skynet is coming?" I ask.

"By our assumptions; later today," Washman said.

I feel anger coursing through my veins.

"I don't see the point," I said.

"What point?" Washman asks.

"You wouldn't teach me how to live if I didn't have a choice," I said. "I think I understand what John Connor wants. A delay." I turn away back in the direction of the base. "So I will give him that as he wants."

I quickly walk away.

"T-11!" Washman shouts.

I ignore Washman's shouts getting further and further away.