T-600 Oil

	The tracers hit the massive oil spill. Hundreds of gallons of crude went up in flames, lighting up the ravaged wilderness. A titanic fireball roiled up into the sky, maybe even high enough to be seen from camp. A scorching blast of heat blew past them, and Molly grinned wolfishly. It was the first time in memory that she had felt warm.
	That’s it, baby. Light my fire.
	Earth-shaking explosions blew the pipeline apart. Mammoth hunks of steel and concrete were thrown up into the air, before they came hurtling back down like a meteor shower. Deafening blasts assaulted her ear-drums until all sound was muffled. Shock waves almost knocked her from the sled. Beneath her gloves, white knuckles clung to the handlebar, while Geir squeezed her so tightly she could hardly breathe. One of the swing dogs lost its footing, stumbled, and was dragged along by its frantic teammates.
	Thick black smoke blocked out the feeble sunlight. It looked as if a volcano had erupted.
	But was it enough to stop the Terminators?
	“Did that do it?” she shouted back at Geir. “Did you get them?”
	“Huh?” Geir hollered. “What’s that?
	”Molly responded at the top of her lungs.
	“Did you get those fucking machines?”
	“I don’t know!” He squinted back into the smoke and heat. “Maybe?”
	Maybe’s not good enough, Molly thought. They couldn’t head back to camp until they knew that they had shaken the T-600s and their homicidal pursuit. No way was she leading them back to Sitka and the others. We’ve already lost too many good people today.Hatred, hotter even than the inferno behind her, surged through her veins.
	“Hang on!” Geir shouted. His face was blackened with soot, and his beard was singed. “I think I see something... oh, shit!”
	She didn’t like the sound of that.
	The plow, still loaded with Terminators, barged out of the smoke. Dancing flames licked its blackened exterior, and its mounted machinegun turret had been mangled beyond recognition, but the tank was coming on strong. Fiendish red eyes glowed in the skull-like visages of the four T-600s who clung to the sides of the speeding vehicle. Their phony flesh and clothing had completely burned away, exposing their scorched endoskeletons in all their naked horror. They looked like metallic grim reapers riding a snow plow from hell.
	“Fuck,” Molly muttered, angry but not too surprised by the enemy’s persistence. Skynet built its cybernetic storm troopers to last. Terminators weren’t alive—not really—but they were damn hard to kill.

-Terminator Salvation: Cold War (chapter 4)