A knife of pain slashed through Erik's chest, and his heart began to beat.
His senses faded into existence, blurry and dulled from a lack of oxygen.
He groggily opened his eyes, and was greeted with a wash of bright light and a burning of his retinas. Quickly closing his eyelids, he tried to yell out in pain, and choked on the sewage still in his lungs. His strength returning, he managed to sit up and vomit on his already tattered trench coat and pants. He coughed and spit the remainder of the vomit onto the floor, and realized where he was. Or tried to. He knew he was out of the sewers. But that doesn't narrow it down much. He half-grinned, gagged, and coughed up the last of the sewage lodged in his system.
A thick steel door creaked open just ahead of Erik, and he opened and squinted his eyes to look. A dark figure walked into the slightly cramped room, a stark contrast to the white of the walls. It was a Combine soldier. Erik rolled off the raised surface he had been laying on, and landed flat on his back. Unable to manage an escape, Erik could only look up in fear, and hope his death would be quick and painless. He trembled, and shut his eyes tight.
"You're Erik, aren't you?" the soldier questioned. Erik nodded furiously, hoping to extend his life, even for only a minute.
"That was quite a fight down there. I'm surprised you're even alive." Erik slowly opened his eyes, and looked up at the Combine. Only, it wasn't a Combine.
"Wh- Who are you?" Erik wondered aloud.
"The name's Barney. Barney Calhoun." He extended a black-clad hand. "Let me help you up."
Erik weakly latched onto the armored hand, and was easily heaved up to his feet. "Barney Calhoun?" he replied. "I... think I've heard that name before." He looked around the room, and surmised that he was in a refurnished hospital room. The windows were boarded up, to ensure whoever stays goes undetected by the Scanners' cameras. That was crucial, especially after leaving the site of five murdered Combine cops. The entire population would be alerted to the crime, and anyone who wasn't exactly where they were supposed to be would be shot or deported. Nobody knew for sure which the worse fate was, and nobody wanted to find out.
Barney left the room, but continued to talk. "Did you read the papers just before the invasion?" Two chairs scraped across the floor of the hallway.
"A few," Erik said. "But that was, what, fourteen months ago? I can't remember nearly anything." His eyes finally adjusted to the light, and he noticed that the walls were not white but yellow with grime, and the single sixty-Watt bulb was flickering. Hospital beds and IV trees were strewn across the room. All the electronic medical equipment had been confiscated by the Combine in the first month of the invasion. The floor was covered with dust, dirt and plaster, and a cockroach scuttled through the open door. A loud crunch came from the hall, and he heard Barney mutter, "Damn roaches, wish the Combine were that easy...", more scraping, and "Get some good food, this guy looks like he hasn't eaten in days."
Barney came back into the room, dragging the chairs up to Erik. "Take a seat, Erik," and he seated himself in the other chair. Erik obliged, and relaxed as he sank into the torn padding.
"So," Barney continued, "You can't remember anything about me." Erik nodded. "Okay." Barney grinned in mock anticipation. "Does the name 'Gordon Freeman' ring any bells?"
Immediately, Erik's eyes were wide open, and he sat straight up. "Yeah!" he exclaimed. "I know him. He led the initial rebellion force, and most of the attacks. He's one of the most important people we have!"
"You mean 'had'." Barney's mood darkened. "I didn't expect you to know about this, not with the rebellion in its current state. See, a few weeks back, Gordon disappeared."
"What do you mean, disappeared?!" Erik exclaimed.
"Disappeared. Gone. He went out on an intelligence mission with a group of our fighters. From what I've been able to gather from them, he successfully made his way into the Control Zone. A large battle erupted inside the Combine walls, and the team decided to camp out in an abandoned apartment and wait for Gordon to return. They must have stayed nearly a week, but he never came back over those walls."
Erik was stunned. "But... Is, is that all you know?" His fists clenched, turning his knuckles to a pasty white.
"I'm afraid so." Barney paused for a moment. "You were somewhat close to Gordon, weren't you?"
"Yeah," he replied solemnly. "Not that sort of close, but we were pretty good buddies."
"I thought so." He took a deep breath. "That's why we saved you."
Erik's eyes widened. "So that's why I'm alive right now? Because I knew Gordon?!" He suppressed his anger, and sighed. "We've got to find him. He's about the only chance we've got of surviving much longer. The best fighter we've got."
Barney looked incredulous, and stood up. "There's more to it than that, much more." He began to pace across the room. "He's not just a fighter. He's a scientist from the Black Mesa lab, in what used to be the United States. You've heard of Black Mesa, right? I mean, how couldn't you?"
Erik shook his head, silently afraid of what Barney might have to say.
"Black Mesa was --"
Barney was cut off by a faint rumble.
"What's wrong?" Erik asked. "What is it?"
"Shh!" Barney said, and he stepped up to the boarded-up window, peeking through the cracks. Erik followed, but didn't know where to look.
"There," Barney told him, "Straight down the street. I can't make it out too well. Does that look like a Gunship to you?"
"Hell no, that's a Strider!" Erik gasped. "We've got to get out of here!" He turned and ran, but Barney grabbed him by the shoulder and stopped him.
"Look, we don't know if we've been spotted. If we run, we'll have to leave most of our weapons here, and then the Combine are going to be at full alert if they find the weapons. We've got to be absolutely sure that the Combine knows we're here."
At that moment, another resistance fighter ran into the room. "Barney, bad news, this place is flooding with Scanners!" She tossed two unlabeled cans of food to Erik. "You, go with Barney and grab an MP7. We need to get out of here, quick!"
He groggily opened his eyes, and was greeted with a wash of bright light and a burning of his retinas. Quickly closing his eyelids, he tried to yell out in pain, and choked on the sewage still in his lungs. His strength returning, he managed to sit up and vomit on his already tattered trench coat and pants. He coughed and spit the remainder of the vomit onto the floor, and realized where he was. Or tried to. He knew he was out of the sewers. But that doesn't narrow it down much. He half-grinned, gagged, and coughed up the last of the sewage lodged in his system.
A thick steel door creaked open just ahead of Erik, and he opened and squinted his eyes to look. A dark figure walked into the slightly cramped room, a stark contrast to the white of the walls. It was a Combine soldier. Erik rolled off the raised surface he had been laying on, and landed flat on his back. Unable to manage an escape, Erik could only look up in fear, and hope his death would be quick and painless. He trembled, and shut his eyes tight.
"You're Erik, aren't you?" the soldier questioned. Erik nodded furiously, hoping to extend his life, even for only a minute.
"That was quite a fight down there. I'm surprised you're even alive." Erik slowly opened his eyes, and looked up at the Combine. Only, it wasn't a Combine.
"Wh- Who are you?" Erik wondered aloud.
"The name's Barney. Barney Calhoun." He extended a black-clad hand. "Let me help you up."
Erik weakly latched onto the armored hand, and was easily heaved up to his feet. "Barney Calhoun?" he replied. "I... think I've heard that name before." He looked around the room, and surmised that he was in a refurnished hospital room. The windows were boarded up, to ensure whoever stays goes undetected by the Scanners' cameras. That was crucial, especially after leaving the site of five murdered Combine cops. The entire population would be alerted to the crime, and anyone who wasn't exactly where they were supposed to be would be shot or deported. Nobody knew for sure which the worse fate was, and nobody wanted to find out.
Barney left the room, but continued to talk. "Did you read the papers just before the invasion?" Two chairs scraped across the floor of the hallway.
"A few," Erik said. "But that was, what, fourteen months ago? I can't remember nearly anything." His eyes finally adjusted to the light, and he noticed that the walls were not white but yellow with grime, and the single sixty-Watt bulb was flickering. Hospital beds and IV trees were strewn across the room. All the electronic medical equipment had been confiscated by the Combine in the first month of the invasion. The floor was covered with dust, dirt and plaster, and a cockroach scuttled through the open door. A loud crunch came from the hall, and he heard Barney mutter, "Damn roaches, wish the Combine were that easy...", more scraping, and "Get some good food, this guy looks like he hasn't eaten in days."
Barney came back into the room, dragging the chairs up to Erik. "Take a seat, Erik," and he seated himself in the other chair. Erik obliged, and relaxed as he sank into the torn padding.
"So," Barney continued, "You can't remember anything about me." Erik nodded. "Okay." Barney grinned in mock anticipation. "Does the name 'Gordon Freeman' ring any bells?"
Immediately, Erik's eyes were wide open, and he sat straight up. "Yeah!" he exclaimed. "I know him. He led the initial rebellion force, and most of the attacks. He's one of the most important people we have!"
"You mean 'had'." Barney's mood darkened. "I didn't expect you to know about this, not with the rebellion in its current state. See, a few weeks back, Gordon disappeared."
"What do you mean, disappeared?!" Erik exclaimed.
"Disappeared. Gone. He went out on an intelligence mission with a group of our fighters. From what I've been able to gather from them, he successfully made his way into the Control Zone. A large battle erupted inside the Combine walls, and the team decided to camp out in an abandoned apartment and wait for Gordon to return. They must have stayed nearly a week, but he never came back over those walls."
Erik was stunned. "But... Is, is that all you know?" His fists clenched, turning his knuckles to a pasty white.
"I'm afraid so." Barney paused for a moment. "You were somewhat close to Gordon, weren't you?"
"Yeah," he replied solemnly. "Not that sort of close, but we were pretty good buddies."
"I thought so." He took a deep breath. "That's why we saved you."
Erik's eyes widened. "So that's why I'm alive right now? Because I knew Gordon?!" He suppressed his anger, and sighed. "We've got to find him. He's about the only chance we've got of surviving much longer. The best fighter we've got."
Barney looked incredulous, and stood up. "There's more to it than that, much more." He began to pace across the room. "He's not just a fighter. He's a scientist from the Black Mesa lab, in what used to be the United States. You've heard of Black Mesa, right? I mean, how couldn't you?"
Erik shook his head, silently afraid of what Barney might have to say.
"Black Mesa was --"
Barney was cut off by a faint rumble.
"What's wrong?" Erik asked. "What is it?"
"Shh!" Barney said, and he stepped up to the boarded-up window, peeking through the cracks. Erik followed, but didn't know where to look.
"There," Barney told him, "Straight down the street. I can't make it out too well. Does that look like a Gunship to you?"
"Hell no, that's a Strider!" Erik gasped. "We've got to get out of here!" He turned and ran, but Barney grabbed him by the shoulder and stopped him.
"Look, we don't know if we've been spotted. If we run, we'll have to leave most of our weapons here, and then the Combine are going to be at full alert if they find the weapons. We've got to be absolutely sure that the Combine knows we're here."
At that moment, another resistance fighter ran into the room. "Barney, bad news, this place is flooding with Scanners!" She tossed two unlabeled cans of food to Erik. "You, go with Barney and grab an MP7. We need to get out of here, quick!"
