Disclaimer: I don't own Half-Life.
The Black Mesa Incident
Chapter Seven: Office Complex
The shakes were beginning to fade. Gordon put it down to the suit's influence, rather than anything he was doing.
Because he sure as hell wasn't calming down.
With another heavenly ding, the elevator doors opened, revealing the strobe-lit chaos outside.
After taking a deep breath bordering on a sigh, Gordon stepped out into the corridor, his boots making a patting noise against puddles that riddled the black and white checked floor.
A cable was hanging from the broken roof, sparks flying wildly in every direction. On the other side of the corridor, behind the cable, three of the head-crab things were making their way towards their new prey.
Gordon lifted the 9mm Glock up to bear, surprised at what little heft the weapon had in his increasingly less shaky hands.
The dangling cable did his work for him. Electricity sprang out and roasted the lead headcrab on the spot, quickly doing the same to the other two as they came closer.
The miniature Barney in Gordon's head smiled.
Kamikaze headcrabs.
He was left with no way through the corridor, however. Gordon looked around for any other methods of transportation around the cable. There was a large window on the other side of the corridor that he could easily smash with either the crowbar or the gun, but he didn't like his chances of surviving such extreme electrical current, even with the HEV suit. Green eyes settled on a jarred vent cover, and quickly darted back to the cable. It seemed to stare back at him.
Gordon tucked away the pistol and gripped his crowbar with both hands. He ran at the cover, attacking the corner that jutted out of the wall. As soon as the gap was big enough, Gordon dove through, ending up in a rather uncomfortable square shape. With a grunt that bordered on a frustrated growl, Gordon uncurled himself and began shuffling in the direction that emitted the most noise.
After what felt like a year of awkward, noisy, dirty crawling, Gordon came to another closed vent. With an ease that was beginning to concern him, he ripped off the cover with his crowbar and crawled into the space beyond.
He was in the space above a tiled ceiling, the support struts giving him a source of mild irritation as he tried to squeeze through them. He put one foot on the ceiling tiles and immediately fell through, landing with a thud on the very, very solid floor.
A groan escaped his lips as he pulled himself up. He felt something grasp him by the arm, and he lifted his crowbar.
"AAH! Wait, wait!"
Gordon froze as recognition set in, and he realised he was about to bludgeon Smithers to death.
"If I'd known it was you, I would have let you in."
The bespectacled scientist's shoulders sagged, and Gordon let his arm drop.
"Are you all right?" Smithers asked.
Gordon nodded silently, already searching the room for anything that might help him. He frowned. "'You would have let me in'? Did you hear me outside?"
Smithers nodded his head, curly brown hair bouncing back and forth with it. "But I didn't dare look. There are… things out there that can latch on to your face."
Silently, and without acknowledging Smithers' frightened words, Gordon got to his feet and walked to the two red fire doors that led outside. Looking cautiously out of the small square windows, Gordon saw the corridor he had just been in, deadly cable and all. Unfortunately, he was still on the wrong side.
He looked around the room. It was a common room, the drinks machines, well worn sofas and coffee tables attesting to that.
Gordon pushed his glasses back up his nose.
"What are you looking for?"
He spared a glance at Smithers. His bug like eyes were almost popping out of his head, they were so wide.
Gordon nodded out to the corridor. "I need to get past that cable."
"What cable?"
"In the corridor." He looked around the room.
"In the corridor?"
Gordon cast a slower look back at his newfound companion. "…yes."
"You're not going back out there, are you?"
"I have to."
"What? Why?"
"People are hurt downstairs."
"And?"
"And… I need to get to the surface."
Smithers rolled his eyes. "Everyone else is heading to the surface as well. But I think they're crazy not to stay put. Someone is bound to come along and rescue us."
The only response he got for the longest time was a blank stare.
Finally, Gordon gave him a helpless 'it's out of my hands' shrug and began exploring the room. There was a door behind one of the sofas.
"What are you doing?"
Without a word of explanation, Gordon tossed his crowbar on the sofa and squatted down by one the armrests, hooking his fingers underneath. With a grunt, he lifted his end and pulled it around.
Thankfully, the door was unlocked. Gordon went inside the small room, squinting at the intense red light that lit the room. In front of him was a power box, with a rather simple red lever to turn said power off.
After checking to make sure there wasn't something more complicated to it, Gordon pulled down on the lever. All of the lights went out, but were quickly replaced by dimmer emergency ones.
He was about to turn and leave when Smithers rammed the red lever back up, glaring at Gordon.
"Are you insane? We need the power on! These… creatures thrive on hunting you in dark conditions!"
Gordon cocked an eyebrow. "How do you know?" he asked, the tone more curiosity than accusation.
Smithers took it as the latter, throwing back his head so he was looking down his nose at Gordon. "I don't have to explain myself to you. Just leave the power on!"
"I need it off."
"No you don't, because you're not leaving."
Smithers got the same blank stare as before.
"I have to." Gordon gripped the lever again. "Sorry," he added, almost as an afterthought.
Down the lever went again, taking the lights with it.
Gordon stepped out of the room and bent over the sofa, scooping up his crowbar. "You can turn the power back on once I've passed the cable."
Smithers was silent until Gordon pressed down on the release bar on the red fire door.
"Wait."
Gordon stopped.
"Don't leave me here."
His eyebrows going up in surprise, Gordon turned to face Smithers, whose face took on a particularly haunted look in the dim emergency light.
"You can come with me, if you want," Gordon offered.
"Well… no, but… just don't leave me here. Brock left ten minutes go, saying he would be back. He never… just, please, don't leave me here alone."
Gordon sighed. "Smithers… you want to stay here and come with me. You can't do both."
"I…" Smithers' head fell, defeated. "Why do you have to go?"
He opened his mouth to speak, but then found himself thinking about it. Because the people down there needed him? Because he wanted to get the hell out of here? Because he was running on adrenaline and survival instinct?
"I have no idea."
Gordon pushed the door open and stepped out into the corridor, taking extra special care to close the door behind him. After making sure it was secure, he walked down the corridor, surprising himself at how steady and brisk his pace was.
Definitely the suit's influence.
Because he sure as hell wasn't feeling steady.
As expected, the window broke with little effort from his crowbar, and Gordon was through. There were two more red fire doors ahead of him and to the left, thankfully with the release bars on his side. He made his way over and was about to press down on the lever when he noticed a particularly dark corridor on his left that bent back, filled with wooden crates.
He looked back to the doors, and once again to the crates. With a sigh, he moved on to the crates, shoving the smaller boxes aside and climbing over those he couldn't move or tear apart with his crowbar.
On the other side of the crates was a walkway in a particularly large and grey room. On the other side was a reinforced metal fence and gate. As he got closer, Gordon could make out a figure through the fine metal mesh of the fence.
"Stand back."
Gordon froze, and did as he was told. With a loud clang, the gate swung open. Heavy footsteps clomped through the open gateway, and the scientist breathed a sigh of relief as he saw a security guard coming around the corner.
It didn't quite occur to him that the guard was pointing a gun at him.
Before it dawned on Gordon to be concerned, the guard smiled and put away his sidearm.
"Hello," he said lightly. "Boy, am I glad to see you. C'mon over."
Gordon walked over, already feeling safer under the guard's friendly watch.
"Don't think I know you. You a scientist?"
Gordon nodded, but didn't elaborate further. Somehow, he doubted that telling the guard he was responsible for this mess would help matters.
The guard shrugged. "Not that it matters. We're all in the same boat now, right? I was hiding out here until I got confirmation that things were gettin' better. Looks like I'm not gonna get it for awhile, huh?" He thrust out a steady hand. "The name's Wheatfield. Harvey Wheatfield. Friends call me Harv."
Good God, the man was built like a bear. Gordon introduced himself, and Harv half shocked him to death by suddenly withdrawing and loudly clapping his hands.
"So! What're you doin' up here? Tryin' to get to the surface?"
The bespectacled scientist nodded. "There are people hurt down below."
"Huh," Harv said, nodding. "Well, the way I see it, we might live longer if we work together. You in?"
Gordon gave the only response that he could, and his new companion grinned.
"Great!"
Harv turned and opened a green metal crate, pulling out a shotgun. He displayed it to Gordon.
"This here's Martha."
Green eyes looked over the weapon. It did indeed have 'Martha' etched on the side.
"Got me through quite a few scrapes, she has."
The only response Harv got was a slightly bewildered nod.
"Now, this is the only big gun I've got. And it's not like I don't trust you with it, but I'm the trained professional here, so… y'okay with that?"
Gordon nodded.
"Well all right!" Harv said, grinning. "I see you've got the standard Glock firearm with you. I'll give ya some extra ammunition."
A sheepishly uttered 'thank you' escaped Gordon's lips as the security guard stuffed clips into his unprepared hands. Harv quickly took the lead.
"Okay. You're tryin' to reach the surface, right?"
Before he could even respond, Harv was leading the way to freedom. Before long they were back at the two red fire doors, and Harv opened them with a gusto usually reserved for the theatre. He quickly stopped in his tracks when he nearly ran into a corridor almost full of metal crates.
Harv looked back to Gordon and winked. "Just give me a sec, Gordy, and I'll have this outta the way."
Gordon cocked an eyebrow.
'Gordy'?
He was about to point out that 'Gordy' contained the same amount of syllables as 'Gordon', and therefore served no purpose as a nickname, but decided against it when he saw Harv clamber over one of the bigger crates and disappear into the corridor.
Letting out a deep breath, Gordon idly looked behind him and saw a closed door to a supply closet. He leant against it, letting his crowbar clatter to the floor.
"You okay, Gordy?" a disembodied voice yelled.
"Um… yes. Thank you."
"No problem, Gordy!"
The loud shuffling noise continued, occasionally punctuated with the sound of metal scraping against the tile floor and the odd curse or two.
Gordon closed his eyes.
And quickly opened them again when a zombiefied arm burst from the door behind him and wrapped itself around his neck. It pulled him up off his feet, strangling him.
"Y'know Gordy, it occurs to me I don't know much about you! I mean, I know you're a scientist, and you seem kinda quiet, but still! I think we should get to know each other, don't you?"
Gordon let out a gurgled yelp.
"Good! I'll start, since I like talkin'. I've lived in New York most of my life. Y'know, you hear a reputation about the Big Apple, but seriously, one of the best places in the world for a kid to grow up."
Desperately, Gordon pulled his gun out of its holster and tried to aim it at the zombie. He pulled the trigger, but it didn't budge.
"You learn all the right values there, y'know? Like loyalty, honour…"
He was struggling to breathe now. The gun clattered the floor.
"You okay, Gordy?"
Gordon once again managed a gurgled cry.
"Good! Now, where was I? Oh, yeah. You learn all of the important stuff. Loyalty, honour…"
He thrust his foot down onto the crowbar below, pivoting it upwards. He reached down, his fingertips barely touching the tip of the small end.
"… and trust! I can't tell you how important trust is in any profession. If you can't rely on the people around you to do their jobs, what can you rely on, y'know?"
Two fingers finally struggled their way around the base, and soon Gordon had a firm grasp on the weapon. He turned the hooked end around and swung it back through the crack in the door behind him. A disturbingly satisfying crunch sounded from behind the door, followed by a pained moan. The arm's grip loosened, and Gordon wrestled himself free. He whirled on his heel and slammed the crowbar into the head of the zombie again, this time killing it.
It collapsed to the ground with a considerately quiet thud.
Gordon took a moment to catch his breath, picking up his pistol and checking it over as he did so.
The safety was on.
If Barney were here, he probably would have slapped Gordon round the head. Or just laughed at him. Or both.
Harv came back through the doorway. "Did you hear what I said?" He glanced over at the broken closet door and peered inside. He recoiled in surprise, but not disgust. "Jesus shit, Gordy, there's a zombie in there!"
Gordon looked up at him.
"Why didn't you say something?"
"I did."
"…oh."
Gordon cast an expectant gaze on the doorway, and Harv snapped his finger.
"Oh! Yeah, it's done. Let's go through."
Harv charged on ahead with Martha.
After a lingering look at the broken door of the supply closet, Gordon followed.
Harv lead Gordon through so many corridors, the scientist had to wonder whether Harv knew where he was going or not. The ever-continuing epic of his life story did not make the time pass any quicker. Eventually, however, Gordon realised that the corridors were beginning to look slightly different from one another, and soon enough, they were at a thick stone stairway leading strictly up.
"C'mon Gordy, let's go!"
And with that, he bounded up the stairs like a kid running to an ice cream van.
Gordon didn't need much encouragement. However, he stopped in mid stride when he noticed something moving in his peripheral vision.
Slowly and cautiously, Gordon turned and saw a wooden trash receptacle in the corner. Behind it crouched a quivering scientist.
"You can come out," he said.
The scientist's head popped up and then went back down again. As slowly as Gordon's seemingly limitless patience would allow, the scientist stood up. He was carrying a walkie-talkie in his hand.
"I… I just overheard a secure access transmission. Soldiers have arrived, and they're coming to rescue us."
"Well hot damn!" Harv yelled, bounding down the stairs. "The cavalry's comin'."
The scientist shrugged his miniscule shoulders. "Of course, I have my doubts that we'll live long enough to greet them."
"Love the optimism, Doc!" Harv slapped him on the arm. Gordon winced, fearing that the skinny scientist might snap in half if hit too hard.
"You got a name?"
"Um… Oswald Peterson."
"Good to meet ya, Ozzie. This here is Gordy. And I'm Harv."
"Nice to-"
"Well!" Harv said far too cheerfully. "It's good news that they're comin', but I don't think we can count on the cavalry finding us down here. Elevators are out of order… but we can still climb, right?" he said, nudging both Gordon and Peterson in the ribs.
"Please… could you… not do that?" Peterson asked, rubbing his ribs where Harv had nudged him with his elbow.
"Oh. 'Course, sir."
Gordon almost felt sorry for Harv as he sheepishly retreated a pace or two.
Of course, he also wished he had had the fortitude to tell Harv to call him Gordon rather than 'Gordy'.
"All, right then. Gordy, Ozzie… follow me!"
Harv led on up the stairs. Peterson looked over at Gordon. "Has he always been so… obnoxious?"
Gordon shrugged. "I've only known him for twenty minutes."
"Oh, wonderful…"
Between Harv's fond reminiscing about his overweight mother and Peterson complaining about his aching ankles, the next half hour turned into a relative day for Gordon. His senses had become so dulled to everything around him that he bumped into Harv's back when the security guard suddenly stopped. Gordon grimaced as his glasses were pushed up, leaving them slightly ajar. He readjusted them as he peered around the hulking security guard before him.
They were at a crossroads. Literally. Gordon didn't know when they had entered an office area, but they were now stood on green carpet. Ahead of them, the corridor veered off to the left, the right, and straight ahead.
Harv looked over his shoulder at Peterson. "Hey, Doc. You might want to wait in the reception office back there."
"All…" Peterson glanced between Harv and door so many times Gordon thought his head might twist off. "… all right."
Gordon turned back to Harv and saw the greasy black shock that Peterson called hair disappear into the reception area out of the corner of his eye. He cocked a sceptical eyebrow at Harv, who put a finger to his lips.
He pointed to Gordon, and then the corridor on the right.
Gordon nodded, indicating that he understood. At least, he hoped he did. He was assuming that Harv wanted him to take care of whatever he thought was hiding around the right corner. Although why Harv couldn't do it, Gordon didn't…
Ah.
That was why.
Harv had his back pressed to the wall that bent around to the left. He looked back to Gordon, and counted down from five with his left hand, Martha firmly grasped his in right.
Gordon pulled out his Glock, making sure the safety was set firmly in the 'off' position.
He glanced back, and Harv had reached 'one'.
With a battle cry that frightened Gordon as much as he assumed it did their enemies, Harv whirled around the corner, letting out a blaze of fury from Martha.
Gordon turned with his Glock, and came face to face with another one of the creatures that had tried to electrocute him in the Test Chamber. It made a quiet gurgling noise that almost sounded like a question. Suddenly, as though in pain, it ducked its head. Gordon paused, slightly lowering his weapon. Was it supposed to do this?
The creature brought its head back up, the dozen or so red eyes on its face now staring blankly back at Gordon. It began to 'charge up'. Instinctively, Gordon quickly lifted the gun and fired straight through the alien's head, splattering pale green blood along the wall and across the floor. The body fell backwards to the floor.
He stared down at the lifeless lump of brown flesh before him. Another gurgle brought his attention to the far side of the corridor, where another alien was charging. Without thinking, Gordon gripped the Glock with both hands, took aim, and fired three times, hitting the creature in the neck, the shoulder, and the eye. It too fell to the floor, left as lifeless as its comrade.
Deep breath after deep breath followed as Gordon tried to calm himself down. A heavy hand clamped down on his shoulder, sending his heart rate through the roof once again. Gordon whirled on his heel, pointing the Glock at his next attacker.
Harv put his hands up. Martha was securely slung over his shoulder, still smoking slightly.
"Whoa there, Gordy!"
Slowly, Gordon lowered the weapon and walked away, resting against the wall on the other side of the corridor.
The one with the least blood on it.
Harv whistled. "Damn… you've got a talent, Gordy, you know that? They didn't even get a shot off at ya!" He walked over to Gordon and slapped him on the back. "Congratulations!"
The security guard turned around and headed back the way they had come, going to retrieve the good Doctor Peterson.
Gordon just closed his eyes and listened to the sound of his own breathing, resting his head against the wall.
"See, Doc? What'd I tell you? Nothin' to worry about."
"Oh… dear God."
The familiar sound of retching assaulted Gordon's ears, threatening to make him follow suit. Something, perhaps willpower, perhaps tiredness, stopped him from vomiting as well.
Maybe he was just… all vomit-ed out.
"Ugly bastards, huh?"
Gordon instinctually turned around, part of his subconscious obviously not remembering what he had just done. He almost turned away, but the scientist in him couldn't help but be fascinated by the specimen that lay before him.
Curiosity overriding his nausea (for the moment), Gordon knelt beside the body and looked it over. It was wearing green metal bonds around its wrists, ankles and neck. Almost like a…
"Slave…?" Gordon whispered, absentmindedly touching the green metal.
"Say what, Gordy?"
His conscious mind caught up with him, and Gordon quickly pulled his hand away from the corpse of the alien.
"It doesn't matter," he murmured quietly, getting to his feet and rechecking his pistol before moving on.
Harv put his hand on Gordon's shoulder again, this time more gently. "Hey, you okay, Gordy?"
"I'm… fine. I'm just not used to… this."
The security guard smiled. "Coulda fooled me. You're a natural!"
Harv led the way, and Gordon turned back to see what had become of Peterson. He was stood above the dead alien, staring at it intently.
"Peterson."
He didn't reply. At least, not directly.
"A part of me doesn't want to be found. What would the people on the surface do if they found out what we were doing down here?"
Gordon cocked an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
Peterson looked over at Gordon, but seemed to quickly remember something important upon doing so. "It… it doesn't matter. Let's go."
The fragile scientist pushed his way past Gordon, struggling to keep up with Harv's giant strides.
Gordon couldn't stop staring at the bodies.
"Gordy! You comin'?"
He didn't answer.
"Gordy!"
'A natural'.
He took a quiet breath, pushed up his glasses, and walked away. "I'm coming."
Gordon turned the corner, only to find his two companions weren't there. After another corner, he came to a wide stone staircase. Assuming they went up there, he followed up with a light jog.
As expected, Harv and Peterson were stood at the top of the stairway, staring down the corridor in front of them. There was an open elevator door at the end.
With no elevator within.
Harv pointed. "There's a ladder on the other side of the shaft." He turned to Gordon. "You'll have to jump."
"I'll- what?"
He shrugged. "You're the only one who could make it. Ozzie here couldn't make it, and I'm too heavy. And you've got that fancy space suit-"
"HEV Mark Four," Peterson corrected.
"-right. So that makes you the best prepared for anything weird you might come across up there."
Gordon took a deep breath, and let his shoulders sag as he exhaled. He nodded. "You're right. You're right."
"Just be glad there's a good run-up, eh?" Harv laughed and clapped Gordon hard on the back. Thanks to the suit, he barely felt it.
Harv's smile faltered slightly. "Don't forget we're down here, all right?"
A nod was the only response Gordon could give. He couldn't think of any words that sounded grand or memorable enough. If Barney were here, he would probably think of a line from a movie.
"There's someone downstairs. A scientist called Smithers. He's in the common room."
Harv nodded. "We'll go and find him."
Well… that was kind of noble and heroic.
Gordon prepared to take his running leap when Harv put a hand on his shoulder.
"Once you make it to the ladder, I'll toss you Martha. You'll need her more than I will."
He thought about denying the 'gift', but decided against it. He had his doubts he would even make the jump, so there was really little point. Gordon handed his crowbar to Harv.
"Could you throw that to me, too?"
Harv nodded.
Gordon positioned himself so he was facing the open doorway. As he turned, he could have sworn he saw something out of the corner of his eye through the window of a fire door on his right.
The man with the briefcase…
He turned his head to look.
No-one was there.
"Look, Gordy, if you think about it too much, you'll never make it. Just do it, all right?"
Gordon paused, nodded, and repositioned himself. After making thoroughly sure his glasses were firmly in place, Gordon took off on a dead sprint, his booted feet making a light squeaking noise on the tiled floor as they pounded down on it with increasing frequency.
He reached the ledge and jumped forward, lunging out desperately.
His left hand wrapped around the bottom rung, and the rest of his body swung around and slammed into the wall below it. He suppressed a cry of pain as he felt something tear in his arm.
The HEV suit sprang to life.
"Warning. Muscle tissue damage. Morphine administered."
The pain slowly faded, and Gordon swung his right arm around and grabbed on to the ladder.
Once again wishing he had taken up weight training, Gordon managed to pull himself up until his feet were on the bottom rung.
"Nice jump, Gordy! I'm surprised ya didn't hurt yourself, the way ya hit the wall like that!"
Although Harv couldn't see it in the dark light of the elevator shaft, Gordon was giving him an intensely sarcastic glare he usually reserved for Barney.
"Ya ready for Martha? I've tied your crowbar to her with the strap. Be ready now, 'cause I can barely see ya!"
Gordon turned on the HEV flashlight, which was contained just below his ribcage on the left side of the suit.
"Ah, that's better! Okay. Now, you ready?"
Gordon was about to tell Harv he wasn't when the security guard tossed the shotgun to him. Knowing he wouldn't be able to grab the gun itself with his weakened hands, Gordon instead tried to wrap the strap around his arm. Much to his own surprise, he succeeded.
So much for being 'a born klutz'.
"Okay, Gordy. You're set to go! Good luck!" He pointed at the gun that was now dangling from Gordon's shoulder. "I'll want to see her again, y'hear?"
Gordon nodded. He looked over at Peterson.
A cold 'Be careful' was all he got.
He turned and climbed up the ladder, surprised at how well the morphine administration system in the HEV suit worked. Enough to dull the pain, but not enough to affect his reflexes. As he climbed further up, he saw an elevator car above him.
Luckily, the elevator didn't consume the entire elevator shaft. Unluckily, it was dangling from a veritable thread of an elevator cable.
As far as Gordon could see, there wasn't any way to reach the higher floors. He climbed up as high above the elevator as he could dare.
Gordon had never been fond of heights. Even relatively small jumps like jumping from over a fence could give him a mild case of vertigo. It always seemed to frustrate Barney when they took part in training sessions together. Then again, Gordon was convinced that Barney was half monkey, so he wasn't too hard on himself.
He kicked off from the wall and tumbled down on to the elevator. It creaked loudly in protest as he slammed down on the roof.
Keeping his movements as small as possible, Gordon unwrapped his crowbar from Martha (good God, he was using the name now?) and removed a vent cover. He gently slipped down into the elevator itself.
It groaned again.
Using the crowbar, Gordon wedged it between the doors in front of him.
The elevator groaned louder, and Gordon heard a cable snap. The doors parted slightly, and Gordon managed to wedge himself in the small gap between the doors as the elevator fell back and away from him, narrowly missing his shoulder.
After getting over yet another near miss, Gordon used the crowbar to make more room for himself between the doors, and slipped into the corridor beyond.
He got to his feet and wrapped the crowbar around Martha once again, putting it on top so that it wouldn't interfere with the pump action mechanism. To test it, he pulled it back. It made a satisfyingly low series of clicking noises as the shotgun cartridge popped out the side.
Red lights were flashing. The damage was more far-reaching than Gordon had realised.
Hopefully the reinforcements would be close by to help. He could definitely use some reassurance right about now.
Because he sure as hell wasn't feeling self assured.
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(A/N: Another quick update! It may have something to do with the holidays. Or maybe it's because I'm looking forward to writing "We've Got Hostiles". Which one do you think it is?
Anyway, reviews are very much appreciated.
Incidentally, it's come to my attention that another story in the Half Life section also has the title 'The Black Mesa Incident'. To avoid confusion I'm thinking of changing the title of mine. Any suggestions?
Next Chapter: Duty Calls)