Disclaimer: I do not own Half-Life 2 or any of the characters in it. Awesome game, though.
Summary: A normal citizen is relocated to City 17. Yet what will happen when the revolution begins?
"Welcome to City 17. It's safer here."
Helena sighed. She had just gotten off of the train, and already she was sick of this Breencast shit.
Does anyone even believe what he says?
"Were you the only ones on that train?" she heard a desperate voice call out. Helena turned around and saw a woman standing at the gate. Upon seeing Helena's questioning gaze, the woman clarified, "Overwatch stopped our train in the woods, and took my husband for questioning. They said he'd be back on the next train. I'm not sure how long ago that was…." there her voice trailed off into barely concealed sobs. Helena bowed her head in sympathy. This combine oppression has already ruined too many lives.
Helena glanced around. She appeared to be in a large waiting room. There was a large billboard; train names and departure times (only departure times... strange) were displayed in dull, yellow letters. There were a few people here. Helena paused for a second, straining to listen.
"They are always departing but they never arrive... and the ones that do arrive... they never leave... you never see them go yet they're always full... no one ever gets on but they're always... they're always departing but they never arrive..."
A man was pacing back and forth in front of the billboard, repeating the line like a mantra. The mutterings bordered on hysteria. Helena sighed. It was time to move on.
She and the three other passengers walked down the corridor, to one of the combine checkpoints. She hoped they would find her passport alright. They were notorious for torturing civilians for even the most trivial matters. Along with the suppression field in place, the human population was taking quite a beating from this, dropping from 8 billion to less than 1 billion in 20 years.
Sparing a second, she looked at her fellow passengers. Two were the usual city inhibitors. The third bothered her. He did not act like a normal civilian. Most people know to keep their heads down, and look only at their feet to try, and appear as insignificant as possible. The penalty for not following these unconscious customs was almost always trouble, torture, and even death. This man strode slowly, while curiously looking about. In fact, he looked more clueless than dangerous.
That attitude will get him killed. I can only pray the combine don't decide to arrest us along with him.
As she predicted, the man was quickly ushered into an office room. Helena knew well enough what would happen to him there. Tortured for non-existent answers, then sent on a train to Nova Prospect… and either killed... or even worse... made into a stalker. Although that was far from her mind at the moment, as she was occupied with praying to every deity she knew that the combine wouldn't make her follow suit. She approached the checkpoint. After a few long moments…..
"You're clear."
As soon as the words left the CP's mouth, Helena moved down the corridor, not wanting to give the combine another reason to detain her. She turned the corner, glad to be out of sight. Now, out of danger herself, she spared a moment to pray for the damned man's soul. After finishing that, she sat down at the nearest table to eat the meager food ration she brought with her from City 13. Her uncle, the last of her family, had joined the Civil Protection to feed himself and his niece. Now that she was reassigned to a different city, she would have to learn to cope with the public food, although her uncle would probably still send food when he could.
It took her only a few minutes to finish the whole meal. There wasn't that much and no one in their right minds would take time to savior the taste. In fact, most people would prefer to shove it down their throats in an attempt to pass the tongue, just to escape the taste of the food.
First things first. She would need to reach the compound in which she was going to live for….. god knows how long. It may be the rest of her life or just a few minutes. Helena kept walking towards the exit, keeping her head down and shoulders scrunched up. She reached the door without incident. Only briefly hesitating, she pushed open the door and walked outside into the square.
It wasn't much to look at. The air wasn't fresh, and the city itself looked like it could use quite a bit of repairing. CP patrols and observation towers dotted the roofs in search of suspicious activity, and the ominous citadel loomed over the city, reminding everyone of its inescapable presence. Even though it was sunny that day, it still felt like a heavy shadow had fallen onto the city. The square was eerily quiet, and only the occasional squawking of birds and hum of machinery broke the silence.
Besides the citadel, the most prominent feature of the square was the TV screen on top of a large brick spire. It was turned off right now, but Helena was sure that it was used to broadcast Dr. Breen and his unconvincing speeches.
However, she quickly remembered why she was here and took out a map from her briefcase. She unfolded it and had begun to study it when she felt a slight breeze as someone ran by. Helena lowered the map a bit to see who was in such a hurry to get out of here. She located the culprit pretty easily, yet as soon as she did, Helena started to wonder if she was beginning to hallucinate from the stress.
It is the same man from before… The one that was apprehended by the combine!
She kept staring in disbelief, but quickly recollected her thoughts and focused back on the map. For a few moments, she tried hard to think only about the map, yet the stranger would not leave her thoughts.
How did he get out? Was he a rebel and killed all of them? Not likely. Perhaps he's a CP himself? Then he would be in uniform. Maybe he is a high-ranking scientist or something of that sort? Perhaps. In fact, that is the most probable explanation.
Despite the difficulty she had in concentrating, she found the apartments she would live in with relative ease. She entered the run-down brick building.
5th floor east, room 508
Helena repeated it again like a mantra as she anxiously walked up the stairs. Corridor after corridor was locked with the combine locking mechanism. One of the third floor hallways, while unlocked, was overrun with CP soldiers. She even began to doubt that she would be able to reach her room any time soon. Yet it seems that fate was with her, and she found the fifth floor east corridor to be unlocked and largely unoccupied. She walked down the hallway, looking for room 508. Helena was left with a bit of difficulty, because strangely none of the rooms had doors…..
After being much disoriented for a few seconds, Helena decided to walk to the nearest room to see if she could inquire about the room numbers from one of the residents. Not finding a doorbell of any sort, she carefully knocked on the doorframe. After hearing no response, she stepped into the apartment. She was relieved to see that it was still occupied by 5 living humans. There were many stories of headcrab outbreaks in apartments like these…
"Was that you knocking? I didn't know we still had a door," one commented.
"I need to find room 508. I was relocated from City 13, and just arrived here."
"Ah! Ya'll be livin' with me then!" a woman with a distinct foreign accent said. "It's two doors down and on de left. Here, let me show ya."
They were about to head out when they heard sirens from outside. Everyone immediately crowded over in front of the broken windows. Helena hesitantly walked over to the window as well, straining to see over the backs of her new acquaintances. There were several CP patrol cars outside of a building down the street.
"It always starts out this way. First the building, then the whole block," one sourly said.
"They have no reason to come to our place," someone tried to be hopefull.
"Don't worry, they'll find one," the former snapped bitterly.
"Anyways, what did ya say your name was?" the woman inquired, hoping to break up the tension.
"Helena. Dr. Helena Rosenthal. I'm a psychologist and somewhat of a field doctor."
"Helena is it? Lovely name. Much better dan mine; Maria. I'm just a blue-collar worker for de combine down in de industrial district."
Maria led Helena down the hall and into their apartment. There was no door here either, and the windows were boarded shut, leaving the room in near darkness. The aqua-blue paint was peeling off of the walls, and the moth-eaten couch and beds screamed anything but comfort. The wooden floors was filled with splinters, and in places boards were missing altogether. On a small wooden table, a TV was busy broadcasting one of the Breencasts, although it thankfully was muted.
"It ain't much. Ya don't even have ta stay in dis room. I sleep over in da one across da hall, although it ain't much better dan dis one. Da only ting you need ta remember is be here when de combine checks da building. De attic is up de stairs over dere if you ever need a breath of fresh air."
After a few more minutes of furious explaining, Maria left to rejoin her friends in the first room. Helena had already unpacked the few possessions that she had and decided to explore a bit. One couldn't be too careful, and she wanted to have some backdoor left if she ever needed a quick getaway.
Several minutes later, Helena decided to take a look at the attic. The 5th floor only had one exit; to the staircase down, and as far as she could see, there were no other ways to escape.
You can always jump out of a window. Although that will guarantee a few broken bones…
She finally reached the attic. Helena grasped her jacket; there was a chilly wind blasting through the two open windows. A few black crows were pecking about. Outside, the sirens kept wailing. Through the din, she thought she heard popping sounds… almost like... firecrackers.
Silly. No one would be shooting fireworks with the combine around. They must be… gunshots?
So they were shooting. But shooting at what? Or who? Helena turned away from the windows. She did not want to see a massacre on the road below. Yet even after a full minute, the shooting had yet to stop. That was strange. Then again, ever since she stepped off of that train, things became abnormal.
Is City 17 always like this, or did I just arrive at the wrong time?
There were a few more gunshots. Helena finally lost the fight against her innate curiosity and slowly creeped toward one of the windows.
'Curiosity killed the cat, but no one ever says anything about humans.She thought with irony.
She never got a chance to look outside, because someone chose that precise moment to jump through the window from outside, knocking the very surprised doctor down.
I've never been good at naming things. Sorry. :( I'll also try to update soon, but this will at most only have 8-10 chapters.