The ghastly din of the Snowminators hunting down her people scraped at Molly’s soul. The armored walls of the car spared them the same fate, but also trapped them inside the train. Stuck in the innards of the machine that’s trying to kill us, she thought, fighting despair. Not a good situation to be in. Forcing herself to tune out the carnage outdoors, she took stock of their surroundings. An unsettling red light, characteristic of Skynet’s installations, suffused a cramped vestibule at one end of the car. A second rent— this one in the ceiling—offered a glimpse of shimmering sky. Riveted steel walls were devoid of signage or ornamentation. The train was as ugly and utilitarian on the inside as it was on the surface. Beauty was strictly a human concept, or so Ernie Wisetongue always insisted. “Not exactly the Orient Express,” Doc said, reading her mind. He tapped his skull. “Still, I will endeavor to employ all my little grey cells.” Thank God for small favors, Molly mused.
What do You think about Terminator Salvation: Cold War?
