The One Free Man
This is exhausting and exhilarating at the same time. Crisp, acrid tang of burning bodies and buildings. Sharp report of pulse rifles. Bullets whizzing past me. I think Frederick is down. He's lying in a pool of blood. Probably his own. Damn Combine. I swear we'll get back at them; for now, I'm concentrating on keeping my head down amongst the incessant gunfire. I'm visibly shaking. My submachinegun is useless in my hands. Wait, what the hell was that? A grena-
Ow! Pain! Pain..! All I can think of. The blast is still ringing in my head. Reluctantly, I look down. My leg looks like a cauterized stump. That confirms it - I'm still alive. Bastards, you won't get me that easily. Well, how the heck am I going to survive this? Distantly, Michael is barking some commands to his squad. Nearly inaudible over the pandemonium. Sounds like they're pulling out. Damn. Leaving me for dead, are they? Hell, I don't need them. I've got a gun. I can hold my own against the faceless troops of the Combine. Hm... So that's what my blood smells like; I must be losing a lot of it. My fingers tighten around my weapon's grip as I prop myself up against a concrete slab. Plaster is flaking off the ceiling and irritating my eyes. How am I going to shoot with all this gunk in my eyes? Better be ready, then. Just me and them now.
Whirring noise. Red lights flashing in and out of my sight as they weave among crumbling pillars. Searching for resistance, for living flesh to rend apart. What are they - They're heading for Frederick! Not going to happen on my watch. With some kind of newfound courage, or perhaps idiocy, I point and fire without thinking, drawing the manhacks towards me. There are three, no, four. I unload the clip on the flying bastards, taking two down. Quick, hafta reload before they reach me. Rip out magazine. Slam in new one. Looking up, I'm left gaping at the recently vacated space. Where the hell did they go? A quick glance up tells me all I need to know. I fire frantically, with the sun in my eyes. Can't tell how much damage I've done. Out of ammo. Where's a new magazine when you need one? Tossing the empty gun to the side, I grab a segment of steel pipe.
A remaining manhack hovers menacingly towards me. Mocking me with its glowing red eye. Let's see what you think of this, then. Harkening back to my younger days, I swung for a homerun when I smashed the miniature killing machine with the pipe. It's outta the ball park, ladies and gentlemen. I chuckled as the accursed thing turned to scrap, its collision with the wall accompanied by a sickening screech. Okay, dealt with immediate danger. I can't expect to crawl through this war zone, what with Combine and possibly striders running amok. They might have even reached the rebel base. Well, it's not much of a base. What used to be an apartment complex, now a haven for rebels and refugees alike. Every foot of the way was won with blood and bullets. But now, with Combine troops streaming down the streets in full force, our efforts here will have been wasted. I don't know what will happen. Today, I learn that you don't know hopelessness till you fulfill the following: sitting in a pile of debris, lacking a limb you possessed just that morning, and awaiting inevitable death by either blood loss or a more violent and painful end - at Combine hands.
Tired. I drifted in and out of consciousness. Afraid that I might not wake up. Can't fall asleep. Still can't get used to the missing leg - Just as my body adjusts to find a comfortable position, my mind reminds it that it's not there anymore. Pain has dulled; no longer a sharp, stabbing sensation. Lost track of time. The sky looks like it's about sunset. Or it could be the fires playing a trick on my vision. Really tired. Need sleep -
It's dark, and frigidly cold. A dim, but visible light appears on the horizon. I take a few tentative steps towards it - wait, I have both legs? Before I know it, I'm being shaken awake. My dirt encrusted eyes struggle to break open. A bleary image of a man - he's wearing some kind of bright, orange armour. What's he holding? Looks like a medkit. He saved me. Leg still gone. I guess medkits can't reattach limbs. Such a shame. I try to mumble my gratitude, but it comes out garbled. Never mind. He's done; I'm no longer bleeding simultaneously out of every wound now. He begins to lift me up, in an attempt to rescue me. But as with such situations, it always has to go terribly wrong.
An alien, yet robotic howl was carried on the chilly night breeze. The man gingerly sets me down against the same concrete slab, which is still warm with my blood. I watch on as he retrieves an RPG launcher from a fallen rebel, then begins an ascent up a hill of rubble. Framed against the cloudless, starry sky, his orange suit glowed as the flaring light of dying fires played upon its grimy, metallic surface. I felt the ground tremble as a great limb crashed down in the centre of the ruined building. Blue tracers flew as the strider's shots scored gouges in the ground. Its target deftly rolled to the side, out of harm's way, before launching a swift counterattack. The rocket had barely left the weapon's barrel when it impacted upon the alien machine's hull. I watched on in awe as the strider reeled from the blast, veering dangerously close to my position. I held my breath as it regained its balance, joints groaning as it righted itself.
I had little time for relief, because the strider began preparing some kind of energy blast. A wailing noise preceded what was to come. With my peripheral vision, I noticed the man seeking cover just as the mechanical monstrosity unleashed all hell.
The light and sound of it simply overwhelmed all my senses. As I began to recover from the shock, I realized that it wasn't over. A searing heat washed over my makeshift shelter, scorching some of my hair off. I looked up. Holy sh- ... A whole segment of wall had simply been sheared away and ceased to exist. Whatever that weapon was, it was more than deadly enough to finish off both of us. Shifting my gaze to confirm the fate of my rescuer, I looked just in time to witness his renewed attack. The strider made some sort of anguished noise before stepping through the smoke trails to fire upon its evasive, armoured target. Its determination was replied with yet another rocket blast. Bricks and glass fell from above as the building shook with explosive force. I abruptly noticed that I was breathing heavily, my heart racing with agitation. The man chucked the empty launcher to the side as he dodged the attacks of the enemy. Involuntarily, I let out a gasp as the man stumbled as the rubble gave way below his feet. The strider, seeing an opportunity, impaled him with a barbed, insectoid leg. Letting out a grunt of pain, the man struggled but to no avail. Without thinking, (that's twice today, a personal best) I grabbed my discarded SMG and pointed it at the strider, just as it prepared its powerful laser weapon.
I still had one grenade left.
The secondary trigger launched the grenade high into the air, where it detonated against the weakened strider. A resounding bang rattled the building to its foundations, followed by a discordant shriek that the strider emitted, as it swerved upon its unstable legs. With a final groan, it began to topple over. My eyes grew with terror as it fell... towards me. I shut my eyes-
I lay dying, vital organs failing as my body was crushed beyond recovery. The last thing I see is a man in an orange suit, standing up and adjusting his glasses, before he turns his back on me and leaves for the next building.
Then, nothing.