Screamer stretched. This was not a good thing to happen and he was speaking about the aliens they were now encountered with. Maybe they had some technology to stop the Terminators, but then again, why would the Terminators go somewhere they knew had weapons to stop them. So that could not be depended upon. Remembering life before 2003 was no longer a habit of Screamer. Neither was remembering anything. One thing he had learned about "treasuring memories" was that if you took the time to reflect on the past you would inevitably run upon something that you regretted or wished you had/hadn't done. That was depressing and Screamer was not interested in bringing himself down any further. Destructive robots had destroyed human civilization. He did not need to be reminded of that. In any case, he followed Finch to the ride before tapping him on the shoulder. "Yea, definitely gotta keep moving. What do you want me to do with the weapons?"
Following Finch's lead, Screamer readied himself with two assault rifles and ran a meter or two ahead of Finch and then posted, waiting for the others. He loved combat. Maybe as a result of too many Rambo movies or maybe he was just deeply disturbed. It really did not matter. He mentally shrugged and smiled. "Finch, I'm not having a good feeling about this." Nobody would have a good feeling about fighting a robot. Robots had alot of weapons and they were strong and hard to hurt. Matter of fact, he was wondering why he was fighting the terminators. Was he insane? Oh yeah, he was. Duh!