A headcrab sat tranquilly hunched at the foot of an undersized, grimy makeshift bed. The diminutive bedroom was silent, except for the muted sound of rhythmic breathing being done face-first into a pillow. Sunlight filtered in through the room's lone window, positioned 15 feet off of the ground, just below the ceiling. It was wide enough to create a dirty rectangle of light across the bed. The air was heavy with dust and musk, which made breathing challenging, even when one was not laying face-first in a tattered pillow.
The bed's resident shook and choked on the ancient cloth of her pillow. She snorted, took a deep breath, ingesting as much dust as oxygen, and rolled-over with her hands over her eyes to block the light. She was exhausted, a tiredness that could be felt in the aches of every muscle and her clouded mind. It was an exhaustion that can only be understood by one who has gone weeks without a full night's sleep. Recent nights offered her little more than a truncated, shallow sleep, more defined by its level of unrest than restfulness. Stomach pains and racing thoughts of self-preservation kept her on constant edge. Her existence was under constant threat from hostile invaders and she could not even have a decent meal to temporarily nourish her aching shell of a body.
Alyx Vance held her head and closed her eyes. She wanted to go back to sleep and to dream quiet dreams, but knew that it was impossible. She felt a slight shifting of her sheets and looked towards the end of the bed, eyelids heavy, head throbbing. When the form of a headcrab revealed itself in her vision, her muscles stiffened and she let out startled exclamation. Alyx had learned to never drop her guard, but waking up with a headcrab at the foot of her bed was difficult to handle with grace.
Her body became tight and immobile; she kicked her feet and scrambled to her haunches. The headcrab did not attempt to pounce, but rather quickly retreated off of the edge of the bed. Alyx attempted to stand up, but the sheets became tangled and she fell to the floor, violently landing on her side. From the cold ground, she watched the headcrab crawl through the narrowly cracked door. The old doorframe was warped so thoroughly that no amount of tinkering would allow it to close properly, so each night it perpetually lay partially open.
She caught her breath on the floor and relaxed as she heard Dr. Kleiner's voice echo down a hallway, calling the name of his beloved, experimental pet, Lamarr. The relief of knowing that the headcrab that she just encountered was a de-fanged friend of her host allowed her to relax a moment, but the relief quickly turned to frustration. Lamarr had become a consistent nuisance for anyone who happened to visit Dr. Kleiner's laboratory. Short on rest and frustrated, she decided this morning was a good time to address the issue with Dr. Kleiner.
The hallway outside her temporary room was barren. A few scattered chairs sat on top of the old, dilapidated tile floor. Empty boxes, which previously held assorted shipments for Kleiner's lab, gathered at the end of the hallway. The old ceiling lights buzzed audibly and emitted a sickly yellow light. There were no signs of Kleiner or the irritant, Lamarr. If she had brought the prototype of the Zero Point Energy Field Manipulator instead of leaving it to sit idly back at Black Mesa East, she would have gladly grabbed a few of the boxes and launched them to the side so that she could see if the domesticated headcrab was hiding in the corner. The thought of that ruckus scaring the tiny guy seemed therapeutic in her current state. But rather than get down and sift through the boxes thick with dirt, she decided to head towards the lab. As she turned a corner, she heard a hushed voice in the kitchen.
"There, there, where have you been now?" Dr. Kleiner was softly trying to calm Lamarr. Kleiner sat in a chair and Lamarr was positioned on top of the kitchen table.
"Oh, no, no, no… Doctor you have her on the table?" Alyx interrupted the reunion of master and pet. "The kitchen table that I was going to eat off of at some point today? Unless you've decided to prepare her for dinner - and god knows I could use some protein to accompany our canned-food diet – this is not going to work."
"Oh, good morning, Alyx, but please don't joke like that about Lamarr. She's a fickle friend to have and I think she's really getting quite adept at understanding tones of speech," Dr. Kleiner replied.
"That thing woke me up. As shocking as it may seem to you, that's not a face that I want to wake up to in the morning."
"You know how valuable Lamarr has been for our research, Alyx. The more I've learned, the more I've come to appreciate her species."
"It's just that, I don't know, that thing is not really meant to be a pet. Dogs are a pet. They greet you, they fetch, they wag their tails, and, perhaps most importantly, they don't eat human heads to become a two-legged zombie-dog... And all you have to do is feed them and take them for a walk…" Alyx's stream of thought led her to a new idea. "Maybe that's the problem. When's the last time that you took that thing for a walk? Never, I'm guessing. If she could stretch out her stumpy legs a little more frequently then maybe she wouldn't have to wander around this place and keep scaring everyone at inopportune moments. Plus, Doctor, I think a small dose of exercise and time outside of the lab might be beneficial for you, too."
"Alyx, I always appreciate your ideas, but the practicality of talking a headcrab for a walk outside right now is slightly, um, diminished. Well, with the undesirable current state of affairs we have out there."
"Fine, but I bet I could scrap together a smooth-running headcrab-treadmill pretty quickly," Alyx joked; although the joke was lost on the doctor's ears.
"Maybe if we get some new parts in, Alyx. You should help yourself to some breakfast. I have some unfinished business in the lab that I need to attend to."
"Surprisingly, my appetite is not entirely squelched after the surreal scene in here… But I think I'll take my food into a room without a table that was recently used as a headcrab lounge-chair."
***
Alyx decided to microwave herself a can of processed pasta and meatballs for breakfast, but was quickly disappointed by the sound of silence when she hit the "3" button on the microwave. Electricity was a valuable commodity in Dr. Kleiner's laboratory and scientific equipment was always given a higher priority than the "luxuries," as Dr. Kleiner described them. Microwaves, toasters, hot water, and coffee makers were frequently the victim to science's unsympathetic hand. Alyx was accustomed to the displeasure of a lack of electricity, but this morning, after a deficient amount of sleep and a startling wake-up call not from an alarm clock but a headcrab, she could have used the mental and physical comfort of a warm meal, even if it was processed pasta and meatballs with a manufacture date that might precede her own birth date. She missed the home-cooked meals of the Vortigaunts back at Black Mesa East, her father's lab and her permanent place of residence.
A can of soggy food eaten at room temperature seemed a better meal for a pet (unless the pet is a brain-controlling headcrab) than a person, but every calorie was needed to energize her undernourished body. She choked on a few bites, but she was not interested in complaining about the nauseating taste. Lamarr was one of the few things about which Alyx would openly carp. That stemmed from the primal fear of attack. Headcrabs were an assailant, a manipulator of human life. Accepting that one was de-fanged and essentially harmless required a reversal of instinct. Even then, Alyx understood the scientific and sociological benefit of Kleiner's abnormal study.
Full of food, stomach still aching dully, Alyx entered the main laboratory. She overheard Barney Calhoun and Dr. Kleiner in the midst of a conversation as she entered.
"I understand, Barney, but that is a very dangerous proposition. Are you certain that you have remained inconspicuous enough to attempt this?"
"Doc, it's just a meeting. The Combine knows that the threat of a rebellion is bubbling beneath the surface and could reach a boiling point with the slightest act of… well, you know. Every new member of the 'Civil Protection' – such bullshit – is one less enemy and one more brain-washed human instrument ready to be played like a piano."
"All of our progress could be lost if they find a trail back to the laboratory. It is imperative that we do not give them any reason-"
"I assure you, Doc, no one knows my connection to this laboratory. I'm no one to them; just another generic face. They just want some warm bodies to turn cold with their sick image of us. They need man-power to protect the perverted sense of order they are keeping."
"I comprehend the situation, Barney. I know I'm usually tangled in experiments and equations, but at the end of the day I, um, remember the reason why I'm so consumed with these… formulas. If you think you can get through this meeting without creating any problems or sacrificing your safety, then please proceed. But please proceed with extreme caution."
Alyx's curiosity was piqued by the conversation. She saw Kleiner return to an experiment and Barney head towards the backdoor. There was no way that she could watch Barney just leave now without trying to get an explanation.
"Hey, Barney. Have a minute?"
"Oh hey, Alyx. What's up?"
"I just overheard the tail-end of your conversation with Dr. Kleiner. What's going on with this meeting you mentioned?"
Barney scratched his head and thought for a moment. He hated the thought of Alyx being a part of the violent world that the Combine created. True, it was Black Mesa's own negligence and dangerous curiosity that attracted the Combine to their world, but that did not lessen his anger with their dictatorial rule. He could still see Alyx as a young girl, running through the halls at the end of a work day, waiting for her father to leave his desk and become a dad again.
The horror of the Black Mesa Incident covered the corners of his mind like an endlessly expanding black shadow, cold from the absence of light. The Incident unveiled more than the inquisitive, brilliant men at Black Mesa were ready to encounter. Countless men were destroyed, yet one young girl survived it all. And here she was before him, flourishing in a filthy world. She was the new modern woman, he thought. She knew how to survive, better than any of them perhaps. She also kept her father's heart calm through all of the terror of invasions, forced relocations, and a crippling attack from a creature that should never have crossed into our fragile world. Yet, all he could see was a small girl running through the halls, looking so miniature in an office of oversized ideas and unrestrained scientific exploration.
"Ah, it's nothing. Just a meeting I have setup with a low-level Overwatch member." Speaking now to Alyx, Barney's voice became softer, a strange low tone that scratched through his throat and tremulously slipped out of his mouth.
"Combine? What are you meeting with Combine about?"
"It's not about much. There's just an avenue that I'm interested in exploring a little further."
The vague answer normally would not have been accepted by Alyx, but she could hear a hesitation in Barney's voice. He clearly did not want to reveal the nature of the meeting to her. For whatever reason, the details would have to remain submerged under the surface until Barney was ready or until Alyx uncovered information herself. She looked at Barney in the way that a sister looks at a brother several years older than herself. His safety concerned her, but she trusted him. He knew how to gauge the danger of a situation and evaluate it in comparison to the reward of success. He would not fly into a fight with the Combine gun-first. Defeating them single-handedly was a task designed more for a messiah than man.
Alyx just hoped that he was not getting into a situation from which he could not untangle himself once he got too deeply involved. The clandestine band of Freedom Fighters was not an army; they could hardly be called a militia, at this point, but she knew how important Barney was to their cause. They had a long fight ahead of them, one that could only be won with careful planning, patience, and, undoubtedly, a miracle or two.
Barney did not have a scientific mind like her father or Kleiner, but he had become a leader over the last several years. The transformation of his personality from Black Mesa to here was difficult to fathom. The acceleration from reliable, common Barney to the Resistance Barney was probably only possible in a world where laws were forgotten. Worlds melted together with portals and the definition of human laws, of humanity itself became new abstract concepts. The edicts of other universes smudged and erased truths humanity had held indisputable.
Barney grew from a simple guard, one of a thousand, to a man who many trusted to lead a future militaristic rebellion. Kleiner, Eli, and even Dr. Magnusson, trusted in him. He became a necessary partner. He was the scrapping fighter who could protect their labs, organize citizens, and would never throw himself into a fight too dangerous, too poorly timed. Eli, Kleiner, and Barney seldom spoke about when the right time would be, but they all knew it was not now. They held hope and waited patiently. They devised formulas and organized weapons. Through all of it, they knew none of it would matter if unseen forces did not play the board.
***
Alyx worked quietly on a computer console in one of the back rooms of the lab for most of the day. She was trying to get a current running through some hybrid-contraption that was made from the parts of an old hot plate and other scraps. The device was some sort of triggering mechanism that was but a small piece of a much larger project on which Dr. Kleiner was working. He gave her a few details on the project when she really pushed, but the project's higher purpose was still not disclosed. It was not because Dr. Kleiner did not trust Alyx – he actually shared formulas with her and occasionally asked her for opinion because he knew she had a talent that needed fostering – but rather because he was so lost in his work.
Kleiner obsessed over each number and idea out of pure desperation. Humanity relied on his math and, at the deepest level, he knew it. Despite the immense pressure, he managed to stay relaxed and under control. He worked as hard as he could, often for 16 hours or more each day, but he slept well the remaining hours. The satisfaction that came from the continuous challenge of his job kept him preoccupied and satisfied.
As the afternoon faded away, Alyx heard quick footsteps resonate in the hall. She poked her head out and saw the hurried figure of Barney exit. The discussion earlier in the morning came back to her instantly. She hastily unplugged her contraption that she had been testing and made off down the hall. Barney's safety was a large concern of hers, but it was her curiosity about the meeting that pushed her forward. A meeting with Civil Protection was exciting, unknown and potentially disastrous. It was not clear what Barney's plan was, but she had to see for herself.
She peeked into the main laboratory area before proceeding. Barney's pace had quickened even more and he was already on the other side of the lab and exiting through the door. Alyx breathed in deep and began her covert pursuit.
***
The streets of City 17 were misshapen; the swollen ground pushed the stones in angled directions. The time for civic improvement had left and may never return. Alyx knew these empty streets well and followed Barney from a distance. She carefully used every alley and interjecting building entrance as concealment. If Barney knew she was following, he showed no signs of his knowledge. He never looked back or paused once as he marched toward his destination.
Besides the occasional grouping of Civil Protection officers talking in their muffled, synthetic voices on a corner or shabby citizens nervously hurrying to or from their ramshackle apartment, the streets were vacant of life and sound. The inactivity forced Alyx to be particularly careful. She welcomed the growing shadows that were being provided by the fading sun.
After several minutes of walking, Alyx began to wonder where exactly Barney may be going, when without warning Barney adjusted his constant fevered pace and promptly stopped in his tracks. He did not turn around as she feared, but rather lowered his head and raised his opened hands to his temples. He gently massaged his head, seemingly deep in thought. Alyx used the moment to dip behind a small staircase off of the front of a building. She cautiously peered towards him, hoping the shadows and shelter should be enough to disguise her squinted eyes.
Barney began to pace slowly back and forth, obviously lost in concentration. She saw that he was quietly talking to himself. He slowly sat down, propping his back against a derelict building front. Hands still on his head, Alyx thought she saw tears slowly sliding down his worn face, each drop clearing the thin path of dust and grime that had built upon him. She had never seen Barney let his guard down like this. Her instincts told her to approach him and comfort him, tell him that he, Dr. Kleiner, her father, the resistance, and all of mankind was going to be alright, even though she knew she would have to lie to say it. They could both believe the lies for a moment and feel free, safe, the way that she imagined her father feeling before the Incident. But as he started to return to his feet, she thought better of her aching need to comfort him. He was on a dangerous mission and there was no time for weakness to enter. She closed her eyes for a moment, slowly rose to her feet and then continued her cautious, furtive chase.
Barney made a sharp right around a corner and Alyx scrambled to catch up. As she glanced around the decaying building, she saw Barney enter a door-less front entrance of a building. She slowly counted to three in her head, putting off the unsafe desire to follow immediately, and then proceeded into the building. Footsteps echoed down a stairway. Judging from their conspicuously spaced rhythm, Barney had slowed his pace finally. Barney thought that his adjusted rate reminded him of the times as a little boy when he had walked from the parking lot into a doctor's office. His mother's hand had pulled, but she always gave up because his feet were like lead. Then and now, he moved forward out of necessity and an understanding of inevitability, but each step was done drudgingly. Time pulled him forward. He felt trapped on rails like a train going from one predetermined stop to the next.
Alyx carefully began her approach to the stairs once she was certain that Barney was at least two stories above. She waited at the bottom for another few moments, trying to count his steps in her head so that she could be assured of which floor he had stopped on. The reverberating sound of footsteps on the stairwell disappeared after she had counted to 36. She began her way up, now silently counting her own soft steps.
When she reached the third floor and counted her 36th step, she came to a complete stop and listened carefully. The warbling voice of a Combine soldier could be heard in the distance. She slowly peered down a long hallway and saw Barney at the end of it, standing alone. He was facing a door and speaking to someone behind a door. The door was locked and small rectangular speaking panel had been opened. Alyx could not make out any words, but began moving forward once she saw an arm pull Barney in through the doorway.
Paint was peeling off of the hallway walls. Alyx noticed graffiti adorned on it in two different places. She could not make sense of the Cyrillic lettering, but she wondered who had dared to enter this building to paint their message. The entire third floor smelled of must and decay. If this was a Combine office, they did not seem to take much pride in their workspace. The space was largely utilitarian, just a box to keep its inhabitants dry and warm while they conducted their internal affairs. Barney had laughed to himself before he knocked on them door labeled 8E when he realized behind the door there would be no bubbly secretary, ready to check his name off of a list of clients. He missed Black Mesa for a moment.
Alyx walked past five closed doors before she advanced to the door though which Barney had been tugged. The aging wooden door was splintered. The energy-lock planted on the front was the only remnant of the alien technology behind the door. When she noticed the characters "8E" painted on the front of the door she shivered a bit. The scrawled, shaky writing was the work of someone who may have once been considered a human being, but was now no more than soul-less hybrid of technology, alien culture, and faded humanity.
Alyx leaned next to the doorway and listened. The thin wooden door may have held an impressive lock on the front, but sound was freely carrying through the large slit between the door and floor. There was no other sound in the building, so Alyx was able to focus on the words being spoken and make out most of the unnerving conversation that took place.
***
Barney Calhoun was shown to a seat behind a large metal desk. The Civil Protection officer who escorted him had a strong grip on his arm, but it did not seem to be a sign of an intimidation practice, but rather standard procedure. The grip was cold and unrelenting, like a metal vice. The only humanity he could trace from this being was the outline of a human body hidden beneath a layer of armored equipment and genetic modification.
"Sit here, citizen." The voice came through a low filter in his armored suit. The mask that protected his head and ensured appropriate breathing conditions at all times also made his voice sound like a computer using a voice-box to speak. The bass-heavy voice rattled through the helmet like a speaker on the brink of blowing out. Barney thought that the helmets had another effect on these former men: a unified face of conformity. To Barney, they all represented the cowardly act of bowing to a captor who had no business even being on the planet that mankind was gifted.
"Okay, thanks," Barney muttered as he sat down. He knew that the slightest transgression could give him away, so he intended on behaving as well as he could. He knew this would be difficult while face-to-face with the enemy, especially a faceless enemy hidden behind a mask. There were no eyes to make contact with here.
Barney's escort stood behind his chair as three more CP officers came in from the adjacent room. He heard them shut-off some radio transmission, presumably coming from the Citadel. As he looked at each one's mask, he wondered if he had known any of these men before their induction into their miserable Combine society. He could not tell any way to discern a difference between them. They were indistinguishable.
Two of the officers went to the corners by the entrance, pulse rifles drawn, and one sat behind the other side of desk where Barney had already sat. The officer behind Barney stayed about a foot behind his chair. If they blindfolded Barney and then all switched places, Barney thought he'd have no way of ever knowing. He wondered how they could recognize individuals within their own kind. Perhaps there were no individuals, just robots who knew their places.
"Are you the citizen known as Barney Calhoun?" the officer behind the desk asked. There was a file in front of him on the desk, but he had only glanced downwards at it long enough to read the name.
"Yes, I am."
"Are you interested in becoming a part of our Civil Protection force?"
"Yes, I am." Barney thought that there would probably be a lot succinct answers coming from his mouth over the course of the conversation, at least if things went well.
"What makes you think you are ready for this position of servitude?" While saying this, he motioned to the CP officer behind Barney's chair, indicating with a flick of his right-hand that the officer should go into the other room. Barney turned to watch, but the officer behind the desk interrupted. He banged the desk once with a heavy armored glove and asked a second time, "What makes you think you are ready for this position of servitude?"
Barney thought that his repeated question, asked with the same inflection each time, made the officer seem like a machine programmed to say and do certain things, and if anything attempted to stir him from his projected path, violent outbursts would be likely. "Well, before the whole decimation of the planet earth, I was a security guard. And I happen to think I was a damn good one." Barney had been broken from his frozen state of neutral speech, fearing it would present him as being too cautious, thus creating suspicion. "I know how to handle myself in more…" he paused, searching for the right word, "turbulent situations, and I certainly know how to handle firearms."
The officer behind the desk was looking towards the adjacent room into which the other officer had entered. He had closed the door behind him, but it had bounced open a crack after it hit the doorframe. Barney grew nervous; he did not like not knowing what was going in the other room. He could not think of any good reasons why the officer had been sent in there. The situation was not going anywhere he liked.
The officer returned his attention to Barney. "Serving the combine is a difficult task and many sacrifices must be made for the cause. But the cause is beyond worthy of any of the trials that precede it. Do you think you are ready for a successful transition into a post-human state?"
"Post-human? Oh, you mean the masks and what not?" Barney let out a quick laugh. "Yeah, I mean, I know the ladies of City 17 will be disappointed because I'm such a looker, you know, but I think those things are pretty damn cool." The officer stared at Barney in silence for a moment before looking back towards the other room. "Sorry, that was a joke by the way, I don't know if post-humans have the same sense of humor as us regular, old humans." The mechanistic stare continued. "Probably not, I'd say."
"Please wait a moment, citizen." The officer behind the desk rose and walked towards the cracked door of the other room. He opened it a couple of inches further and asked into the room, "Is the transmission from the Citadel office complete?" Barney thought heard the other officer reply with a "No," but he was not certain.
The officer from behind the desk turned back to the room for a moment and said in his vibrating voice, "Please continue." Barney was not exactly sure what he meant by this, but the officer went completely into the other room, closing the door behind him, leaving Barney with the two officers standing by the doorway. Barney was about to ask what he should do to continue, when one of the officers calmly walked to the desk and sat down in the same chair that the other officer had just vacated.
The officer continued the interview as if nothing had changed and he had always been the one asking questions. "Is your paperwork all in order, citizen?" The voice was exactly the same as the previous. The interchangeability of these "post-human" men struck Barney, leaving him feeling cold. These men had no humanity left in them.
***
Alyx's jumped up from her haunches as she heard a Combine conversation reverberating from the stairwell. It sounded like they were coming up. Her listening session was over.
"Shit!" she exhaled, nearly silently. Her eyes began wandering in every direction, trying to establish what the environment around her offered for safety. There was no obvious route of escape, so she decided to try her luck by going deeper into the hallway; at least that would take her away from the staircase.
Near the end of the hall, just as the voices behind her sounded as if they were arriving onto the third floor, Alyx found an open door. Without checking to see what was behind the threshold, she bolted through. The room appeared to be largely unused, except for some stacked boxes scattered about. She worked her way to a corner, carefully trying not to make the ancient floorboards creek, and caught her breath. The distorted voices were coming closer. She noticed a yellow-tinged window in the back of the room. It looked large enough to climb through, but she was not sure if it would even open. Not to mention the fact that she was three-stories up. Jumping from that height was a gamble that would almost certainly lead to an injury, a broken ankle if she was lucky.
The footsteps in the hall stopped, but the voices continued. She estimated that they were about 50 feet down the hallway, probably near the door behind which Barney sat. Her senses were heightened and she listened to the officers in the hallway closely. She tried to envision where they were, how many there were, and what they would look like. She had seen enough of them to get the idea. She had confidence that her abilities exceeded theirs' individually, but in a building full of them, there was not much hope of winning any form of brawl.
While she listened, she picked up another sound. This one was coming from within the room. At first it was a soft-scraping, but it quickly morphed into a tapping. It sounded almost like a mouse slowly moving across the hardwood floor. Minimal sunlight came in through the filthy window and there was no electrical light, so she could only make out shadows and boxes. When she began to turn her attention back to the men in the hallway, one of the stacked boxes across the room fell over, violently crashing to the floor.
Her heart stopped. She was confident that the men in the hall would have been able to hear the sound. She began edging her way to the window without taking her eyes off of the box that had fallen. Before she had taken more than two steps, two things happened that demanded Alyx's attention: the men in the hall began walking quickly in her direction, and, the creature that had knocked over the box soared through the air with its fangs aimed directly for her skull.
Without a moment to think, Alyx reacted quickly. In a half-moment her feet went from being firmly planted on the ground to arcing through the air. In that instant, she was able to register that a headcrab had knocked over the box and was now intent on sinking its sickening fangs into her. If she had backed up or not seen him, he may have succeeded and turned the two of them into the latest City 17 zombie. But instead she leaped and was able to squarely jump-kick the air-born creature, knocking it across the room with a cry. It seemed stunned and she did not want to take any chances with the approaching soldiers, so she immediately ran for the window. If the window did not open this would surely be the end of her, but she had no other choice.
The window was heavy, but with a hard push, she was able to open it. She looked at the cement alley below and began to crawl through, determining the best place to aim her falling body. When she was about half-way through and getting ready to steady herself, she took her hand off the window for a moment, expecting it to stay up, but instead it crashed down onto her back, knocking the breath out of her completely. She reached her left arm behind her and tried to pry the heavy window from her. While doing so, she pushed her body through further, finally doing a complete spin, so she could hang from the window's ledge. The window closed completely. Her body was now facing the building and her eyes were fixed on the ground below. Before she could work up the courage to take the plunge, the headcrab made a decision for her.
The creature had apparently regained its composure and wanted another shot at his target. It lunged for the closed window with a ferocious velocity powered by a dark animal instinct. The window shattered into rigid pieces of glass as the headcrab sailed over Alyx and into the alley below. It screeched one last horrible cry as it realized its fate. The startling sound of the creature and the broken glass raining down on Alyx shook her grip on the edge of the window. She too began to fall to the alley.
This was not the first time that Alyx had been so close to death. She understood how to survive. But sometimes she wondered if there was more to it than that. She was not the only one with a strong survival ability. Many men and women who had possessed a similar preternatural instinct had died ingloriously in the days since the Combine arrived. Sometimes she felt that someone was watching her over. That there was a force in the world that could not be seen, but if she pulled back the veil of human reality, there would be someone waiting for her, ready to greet her. "Hello, Alyx! Don't worry. We've got everything covered behind the scenes for you. Now you go back and have fun! Bye now!" This was one of those times.
As she fell backwards, she saw a rusty, iron pole to her right. She had not noticed it before, so she could not even definitely say that it had even been there all along ("Hello, Alyx! We see you are falling. Would you like a pole to grab onto?"), but she did not have time to question the nature of her fate. She reached one right arm out to the pole and squeezed as tightly as she could. Her hand slid with her body's momentum. Her eyes squinted with pain as the skin on her hand was scraped harshly.
Still holding the pole and falling, she swung her body closer and grabbed on with her left hand. The pain burned through both of her hands now. Finally, she kicked her feet up against the wall and tried to slow her fall. She thought her ankles may snap, but before they did, she was able to come to a complete rest while still 10 feet above the ground.
She gingerly moved her cut hands and climbed to the ground below. The headcrab was twitching five feet from where she stood. Without thinking she ran to it and gave it a swift kick.
"This is not your home! Why are you here?" She watched the body fly through the air. As it came back in contact with the ground, she remembered her other problem.
"Citizen, do not move! You are subject to questioning!" a CP officer hollered at her from the broken window above. There was no gun pointed at her yet, but she thought that this might change quickly, so without another word, she ran from the alley. They had three floors of stairs to climb down before they could catch up to her. She felt confident in her head start; as long as no one started firing at her while she was still in the alley.
She heard one single shot ring out as she turned from the alley and into the road. She took it more as a warning shot than a shot intended to kill because it went no where near her. Her lungs burned and legs kicked. Buildings blurred past her. She began to laugh. She was not sure why she was laughing, but there she was, running at a full sprint and laughing aloud. There was no telling when her run with luck may end, but for now she did not care. Alyx Vance was going to live to see at least one more day.
***
Barney walked slowly back to the laboratory. He was visibly shaken. His plan had almost been destroyed because some intruder had snuck into the building during his interview. They ended his interview early and let him know that they would have to hold another session in the coming days, but Barney did not have any intention of going back now. He half-expected to be unceremoniously murdered on his way home, but that was beyond his power now. He only received rudimentary information about the transition process, but it would have to be enough. Everything was falling apart before he had a chance to even get started, and now someone was hiding behind a tree waiting for him.
A shadow of a figure, sitting behind a leaf-less elm tree, jutted out into the road. Barney's nerves were tight, so he did not take another step.
"Whoever the fuck you are hiding behind that tree, I can see your shadow in the road." Barney shouted. "If you are here to kill me, at least give me the god damn respect to surprise me or kill me well. I don't deserve some lazy, soulless soldier to claim my life in the middle of a filthy fucking road. I suggest you go call a superior officer to deal with me with some respect, or you go off yonder and put a bullet in your god damn synthetic-head."
Alyx laughed, even though the tone of Barney's voice worried her. "Sorry, buddy. I thought I would walk you home, but I guess that you deserve better than some civilian girl to guide you home. I'll go see if I can find a war-hero for you."
"Alyx? What the hell are you doing out here sitting behind a tree?"
"Just enjoying some fresh air. But what about you, Barney? What the hell is going on? I followed you to your meeting and-"
"That was you?!" Barney was dumbfounded. His plan and his life were gravely endangered because Alyx had gotten curious. "Alyx, my god! Do you realize what kind of trouble you could have gotten us into back there? I had things under control and now I don't know what's going on."
Alyx sighed. She felt guilty for what she had done, but some unseen force had pushed her to go there. She could not have done anything differently. "Listen, Barney. I screwed up today. I know."
"You more than screwed up, Alyx. This is serious."
"Barney!" Alyx interjected. "I know. Please, I just need to know what the heck is going on here. Why are you meeting with the Combine? I deserve to at least know that much."
"This isn't about deserving anything. We have to be careful right now."
"Okay, when I think careful, I don't think of visiting the Combine in their corporate office building." Alyx felt a tinge of anger boil up. She felt as if she was now too old to be left out of the secrets of the boy's club at Dr. Kleiner's.
Barney could sense her hurt and knew that she deserved more. "Alex, alright, listen. First, know that this had to be done. I can't give you all the details now, but we'll have a talk soon. All of us: Dr. Kleiner, your father, you and me." Barney was not sure how to continue. The sun was shining in his eyes, which he shielded with his shaking hand.
"We're better off than you might think," he continued softly. "I know it does not sound like much, but an old friend of your father and mine is going to be returning soon. We need to get all of the pieces in place to ensure that we are ready for him. He could provide the shift in momentum that the resistance needs."
"What? Who's coming?" Alyx's voice wavered. "Barney, I don't understand. Who are you talking about?"
"Gordon Freeman."