Tuesday, 6:31 A.M.- Forty Miles Northwest of Carrizozo, New Mexico
For half an hour of driving down the desolate country road neither Cal nor Alex spoke. Both sat staring intensely at the landscape, gradually turning from a dark blue, to a pale beige, to a light tan as the sun rose behind them, playing and replaying the images of the previous hour in their minds. It was Alex who finally broke the silence.
"Where to now?" he said.
Cal shrugged slightly. "Albuquerque," he said. "We gotta warn people of what these things can do. I mean, Christ, these things tore down the city before sunup!"
"Do you really think they will believe us?"
"I don't know. Hopefully, the same kinds of strange events have been happening near Albuquerque as were happening near Carrizozo. In any case, we'll have a very short time for them to do something about it."
Alex sighed. "So we'll be the Barney Calhoun of Albuquerque, then?"
"All right," Cal said, irritably. "Listen. I'll bet you anything that we're not the only ones to escape. There's probably already someone there frantically trying to get the authorities to believe his alien story. Maybe they'll pass him off as a lunatic at first, but when we show up with the same story, they'll have to believe us. Then they may have time to call in the National Guard or something."
"And what will they be able to accomplish?"
Cal shook his head. "I don't know," he said. "I don't know."
Tuesday, 6:36 A.M.- Forty-eight Miles Northwest of Carrizozo, New Mexico
Barney crept through an empty corridor of an old prison, wielding a crowbar that he had taken from a maintenance room. The walls around him were plastered with either old blood or rust; it was becoming hard to tell which was which. The stink of rotting corpses filled his nostrils, and the screams of tortured...
"Wait a minute," Barney said aloud. "I remember this. It's happened before."
No, it hasn't, his mind said.
Barney frowned, but did not stop running. He looked down at the crowbar in his hand. Where had he gotten it from?
"It's different," he said.
From what? replied the mind.
"From the first time it happened," Barney said.
It feels different because there never was a first time.
"Then what do I remember?"
Barney reached the corridor where he remembered meeting a group of vortigaunts. The voices were raised; they had apparently heard him talking to himself. He felt blood rush to his face out of embarrassment.
"What happened next?" he whispered to himself.
Then he remembered. A vortigaunt had sneaked up behind him, distracting him while the others charged their electrical attacks. Barney spun around, crowbar raised for attack.
It was not a vortigaunt that stood there, but a grunt, with its sinister-looking bee gun aimed at Barney's heart. As the alien bees pierced his body and his mind passed from existence, his last thoughts repeated the question back to him: What do I remember?
He awoke with limbs flailing wildly as if to fend off the bees that still buzzed about, eager to sink into his soft flesh. He just as soon winced in pain as his limbs struck metal and glass. He sat upright, saw a metal mesh in front of his face, and panicked at the thought of being back in the prison of his dreams.
"Where am I? Where are you taking me?" he screamed, slamming his fists on the mesh, feeling it reverberate but not give way. "Let me out of here! Let me out!!"
He kicked the window by his feet, smashing the glass. He scrambled to climb out of the gaping hole, and that was when Cal pulled the police car to the side of the road.
Cal got out of the car, slamming the door. "Are you out of your mind?" he said to Barney, whose left foot was already sticking out of the window. "Climbing out of a car going over seventy?"
Barney looked around him, then tentatively pulled his foot into the car. Cal opened the door for him. By this time, Alex was already standing outside.
"I'm sorry," Barney mumbled. "I must've been dreaming. Where am I?"
Cal looked around. "Middle of Nowhere, New Mexico," he said. "Actually, we're headed for Albuquerque. You were right, you know. The aliens had built up their army and invaded Carrizozo."
Barney leaned against the police car, sighing. "I know," he said. "I was there. I remember everything, right up until the jail cells filled up with smoke."
Cal and Alex exchanged glances.
"Listen, Alex and I were wondering about something," Cal said. "Suppose we make it to Albuquerque, warn everybody about the invasion, and they call in the National Guard. Do you think they could stop the aliens?"
Barney thought about it for a moment. Then he said, "Let's leave it at this. When the accident at Black Mesa was reported, the government sent in hordes of the most elite military forces to 'correct' the problem. In less than forty-eight hours, most of the military force was destroyed, and the rest had fled."
"Then what the hell are we supposed to do?" Cal screamed, suddenly angry. When he heard his own voice echo off the distant mesas, he realized that he wasn't angry at Barney's dismal approach. He was angry because he was terrified.
"Whatever we do," Barney said at last, "it will no longer be an offensive maneuver. And we will do it alone."
Tuesday, 7:29 A.M.- Twenty Miles Southeast of Albuquerque, New Mexico
KKRM was a talk radio station local to Albuquerque and the surrounding towns. The host, Bob Shoemaker, was a radical liberal, who spoke mainly to the young people of New Mexico. It wasn't big, of course, but it had its share of listeners in the city. Many urged Bob to try becoming national.
It was at this radio station, located in the desert outskirts of the city, that a police car with a smashed left headlight and a dented front bumper arrived an hour after dawn, when the sands were beginning to warm. Alfonso got out of the car and strode swiftly into the station.
"I need to speak with Mr. Shoemaker," Alfonso said to the receptionist.
The receptionist smiled politely. "I'm sorry," she said. "We do not start tours for another..."
"Perhaps my uniform wasn't clear enough," Alfonso said of his grimy blue suit. He whipped out his badge. "I need to speak with Mr. Shoemaker. Now."
The receptionist nodded. "Right that way."
Alfonso navigated the corridors until he reached the studio. Behind the glass, he saw Bob Shoemaker, ranting passionately into the microphone. Alfonso could hear him clearly in the speakers above.
"...New Mexicans," Bob was saying. "As you're on your way to work, ask yourself: Is this normal weather? Is it usually this hot? Don't blame random weather patterns, folks, for global warming is in full swing. That's right, scientists estimate that within..."
Alfonso tried the door, but found it locked. He knocked on the glass window. Bob looked up with a frown. His frown disappeared and his eyes bulged when he saw Alfonso holding up a shimmering badge, impatiently.
"More on this when we get back," Bob said. He pushed a button, and removed his headset, while a recording said, "You're listening to KKRM; New Mexico's liberal voice."
Bob opened the door. "Something I can do for you, officer?" he said, somewhat defensively.
"I need to use your microphone," Alfonso said simply.
Bob scoffed. "What?" he said. "Listen, buddy, this is private property, and you can't just come in and..."
"It's an emergency," Alfonso said. "I need to make a public announcement."
"Get a warrant, asshole," Bob growled. He turned and threw the door, but Alfonso stopped it with his foot. Then suddenly, instinctively, he felt his hand reach for his pistol, hold it at waist level, and cock it. Bob's eyes bulged again.
"I need. To use. Your microphone." Alfonso spoke deliberately, almost insanely. Bob probably thought he was.
Alfonso sat in the chair, put on the headset, and waited for the commercials to end. When they did, and the signal for him to speak came, Alfonso cleared his throat and spoke.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, "This is Lieutenant Alfonso Lopez of the Carrizozo Police Department. I'm sorry to interrupt your radio show, but I have an emergency announcement to make. Hours earlier, at the aforementioned city of Carrizozo, an attack occurred. No, this was not a terrorist attack, and no, it's not a joke. These attackers were of an unknown species. Aliens, if you will. They attacked swiftly and efficiently, catching most people in their sleep. We have reason to believe that they are moving on to other nearby cities, including Albuquerque. Do not panic. They are not likely to move on for another forty-eight hours." This part Alfonso made up; it was almost certain that the creatures would reach Albuquerque before then, but the last thing he wanted was mass hysteria. "Instead, alert the local authorities, for I may not be able to do so. Again, this is not a joke. That is all."
Alfonso removed the headset and got out of the chair. Bob, after a moment of stunned silence, returned to his position. He said, "Uh, Lieutenant Lopez would like to remind everybody that this really is an emergency, but that you must not panic. Also, if any of you would like to ask Lieutenant Lopez some questions, feel free to call in."
With that, Bob returned to whatever issue he was ranting about, while Alfonso stood in a corner of the studio, interested only in hearing someone call. Five minutes passed before Bob took a brief commercial break. During this time, he removed his headphones and whispered, "Don't worry. We take calls during the commercial break so we can filter out all the weirdos."
He put the headset back on and returned to the mike. For another ten minutes, he ranted almost without breath. The familiar recording and chime came, and no calls had come. Again, he removed the headset and turned towards Alfonso, but this time he wore an expression of puzzlement.
"This is weird," he whispered. "We're usually flooded with calls every commercial break."
"Maybe it's taking them some time to absorb everything I said," Alfonso whispered back.
Bob nodded and returned to his place. For the next ten minutes, he talked about the most minimalistic issues, without the heart he had put into his earlier rants. Apparently, Bob didn't usually go this long without someone calling in to argue his points. Another commercial break came, and no one had called.
Bob turned towards Alfonso. "Do you really think they..." He trailed off. Alfonso was gone.
Tuesday, 7:35 A.M.- Twenty-five Miles Southeast of Albuquerque, New Mexico
"Shit, we're out of gas."
For nearly another hour, Cal, Alex and Barney had been driving nonstop towards Albuquerque. Now, twenty-five miles from the city, Cal was beginning to notice that the red needle was getting dangerously close to the "E" on the dashboard.
"There's a gas station two miles from here," Alex noted.
Cal drove the police car for the required two miles, then, seeing a solitary gas station at the side of the road, pulled it over. He got out, approached the self-serve unit, and patted himself down.
"Damn," he said. "Left my wallet at home. You got money, Alex?"
Alex shook his head. Cal looked at Barney.
"My wallet's in my uniform pants, which are at the hospital," he said.
"I'll go inside the store and see if we can barter," Alex said, walking off. "I mean, we are the only three survivors of that invasion."
Cal stood with his hands in his pockets, reading the warning signs idly.
"Do you smell cigarette smoke?" Barney said, sniffing the air.
Cal shrugged. "It's a gas station," he said. "Gas stations always smell like smoke."
"Hey, ladies, look at this!" Alex shouted from within the store.
Cal and Barney ran inside the store, where Alex was pointing at the counter. Behind it, in the racks of cigarettes, was a large steaming crater, which smelt strongly of tobacco smoke. Cal peered over the counter. On the floor, with a large, black-rimmed hole in its chest, was the body of the store owner.
"Vortigaunt," Barney whispered, instinctively putting his hand to his side, where his gun holster would be.
Cal looked around nervously. "Where is it now?"
There was a crackle of electricity outside. The three glanced outside in time to see a bolt of green strike the gas pump. The pump exploded, pieces of concrete flying sky high as the tanks beneath ignited, gallons of gas feeding the bright orange fireball until it was satisfied, and the entire thing shrank into dark black smoke. Through pockets in the smoke, they saw the remains of the police car, little more than flakes of metal.
"Ah, hell," Cal said weakly.
"The shotgun was inside," Alex mumbled.
"Bloody, bloody hell."
There was a sound of crackling electricity from somewhere outside the gas station, which had a much shorter duration than the vortigaunts' attacks. Barney turned sharply. More followed. Two at a time, at first, then three, then five. Barney crouched behind the counter, feeling for a weapon. He found a pistol with one magazine. He, Cal and Alex hid behind the counter, expecting to be swarmed by vortigaunts. There were none; the first one had died in the explosion it caused. Instead, they heard distant wails. Barney peered over the counter, then shrank back.
"What are they?" Cal whispered.
"I don't know," Barney whispered back. "I've never seen them before."
"Well, what do they look like?"
"Like floating, white blobs. With legs. And eyes."
They began discerning sharp bursts from all around the gas station. Suddenly, a nearby window burst, and one of the creatures floated inside.
"Jesus!" Alex shouted upon sighting it.
Barney lifted the pistol and fired five times. The blob dropped dead.
"We don't have enough ammo for all of them," Barney said. "We'll have to run for it."
"Are you kidding?!" Cal cried. "We'll never..."
"We will if we split up," Barney said. "Now, judging from those sounds, they attack with small orbs of energy at long intervals. Avoiding these attacks will be much easier than avoiding the vortigaunts' attacks."
Cal listened to the repetitive bursts. "Ok," he said. "I'm going through the back door."
Alex nodded. "I'm going through the side window."
Barney looked at his pistol. "Since I have a weapon, I'll go through the front door." He shifted his body until he was in a kneeling position. "On three. One... two... three!"
From that moment on, everything was a blur.
Cal was on his feet, running for the back of the store, tackling the back door, only to find it ajar, tripping over himself on the two steps leading to the ground, recovering quickly, and dashing madly. Above, six of the creatures were whirling around like vultures, taking pot shots at him. He glanced to the right, where he saw Alex hopping out of a window and running south. Behind him, he heard the shots of Barney's pistol until Barney ran out of ammo, and all Cal heard from then on were the burst of energy.
To the south, one of the creatures had swerved with surprising speed into Alex's path. Alex scrambled to turn around, but only managed to trip on his own feet. The creature that had appeared in front of him released an electric orb destined for Alex's head. Alex shielded himself with his arm, and moments later, found it burned away to the joint of his elbow. The screams that followed would haunt Cal forever.
Cal did well for a while, running fast enough for the orbs to fall just short of their target. He didn't notice when a final burst of energy happened above, and a new creature was descending, right into Cal's path. When Cal saw it, he nearly fell backwards onto the hot sand. The creature that appeared before him was a larger version of the ones chasing him. It had many twisted appendages and a face below its massive brain that appeared almost human. It held its appendages in front of its face, creating a shimmering ring that descended onto Cal's trembling body. All the while, the creature spoke in a deep, reverberating voice. Cal thought for a terrifying moment right before his body was vaporized that he knew the words coming from the creature.
"IIIIIIII... Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaave.... Yyyyyyyyooooooouuuuuuuu... Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaave..... Yyyyyyyyyyooooooooouuuuuuuuu..."
Tuesday, 7:46 A.M.- Albuquerque, New Mexico
For a while, Cal knew nothing but darkness.
Within moments, his senses drifted back into place. First touch; the entire front of his body was touching a rough surface, so he must've been laying down. Next, smell; he smelt concrete, which accounted for the rough surface. Taste; he tasted a hint of blood in his mouth. Hearing; he heard nothing but the wind blowing.
Finally, his sight came back. At first it was blurry, but gradually, he could make out a white, creamy surface. He looked up, and saw nothing but sky. He got painfully to his feet, and looked around. There was no horizon. It meant only one thing. He was on top of a building
Cal looked around at the top of the building, then at the sky. It felt like the sun was in the same position as it was at the gas station, so he hadn't gone far. Was this Albuquerque?
Only one way to make sure, he thought. He shuffled to the edge of the building, and what he saw made him gasp.
The city below was indeed Albuquerque, but not as he had ever known it. The streets were completely devoid of human life. Instead, toppled cars, unconstrained fires, splatters of blood, and bodies lay scattered all over the city. In the skies, giant alien creatures, which resembled manta rays, floated silently overhead. In the streets, scores of alien grunts and vortigaunts stood in ranks, while gargs maintained the ranks, and mawmen, headcrabs and bullsquids roamed freely. The occasional white flying blob circled the city.
There was a sharp burst of energy from behind. Cal spun, fists raised, to see a solitary vortigaunt.
Oh, shit, he thought. I don't know how I survived that thing before, but now, I'm royally fucked.
But the vortigaunt did not attack. It cocked its head, scratching it once, like a human would. It looked into Cal's eyes, spewing forth some gurgled language. Cal suddenly realized that it was speaking English.
"Understand me you do?" it said, its voice deep-throated and guttural.
Cal nodded. The vortigaunt did not appear to understand the gesture, so Cal said, "Yes."
"Good," said the vortigaunt. "Then you hear what I say." The creature looked over its shoulder, then continued. "Spare you is for one reason, and that be you is messenger for inferiors. Humans, you say yourself. We see you as you go in move machine, our sky scouts see you. We stop you at there place. We kill weak inferior. We bring you to here place. Now, message. You see this place? We is do to every place on you planet. To stop us is you cannot do. We first conquest for Xen, many you humans try, many die. Others go run, we let them. Is not necessary to die every inferior. Is necessary to establish base here only."
"Black Mesa," Cal said.
"Is what inferiors call, yes," the vortigaunt said. "Base establish, we free conquer rest of inferior place. We do now."
"Wait, wait," Cal said suddenly. "You came first to establish a base, then to conquer the rest of our planet? I... I thought your arrival was an accident! At Black Mesa!"
The vortigaunt was silent, as if thinking. "We come by stone," it said. "Stone make portal, we come. We see you planet many year. We decide you planet adequate for we need. We send stone. Inferiors find stone, bring stone Black Mesa place. Inferiors underestimate stone power. Inferiors destroy Black Mesa place. We come the same."
"Adequate for what needs?" Cal asked carefully.
"Mines and slaves," the vortigaunt said simply. "You planet much metal have, much fuel. Xen make mines you planet. Xen make slaves you inferiors."
Cal took a swing at the vortigaunt, but moments before he connected, a shimering green ring appeared between them, and Cal fell into it. He felt the same feelings of nothingness, followed by a gradual trickle of senses coming to him, followed by the feeling of weightlessness, of falling freely, with wind whipping his hair and his clothes. He looked down, and found himself falling to the streets below. But he hardly fell ten feet when another portal appeared below him, taking him back to the top of the building. He fell hard, chipping his front tooth on the concrete.
"Do not act you against we, inferior," the vortigaunt said. Cal sensed anger in its guttural words. "We control portals. Nihilanths create portals any place. Nihilanth bring you here place. Die Nihilanths you cannot. Many Nihilanths, many place Xen. One inferior die Nihilanth, many replace. We want, we create portal here take you portal here. You go portal, portal take you here infinity."
Cal got the idea. "So if you wanted to, you could kill me anywhere."
The vortigaunt cocked its head. "We no want die you," it said. "We want you tell inferiors surrender. We conquer inferiors planet,you become slave. You work mines. Escape you cannot."
A portal appeared behind the vortigaunt. It looked one last time at Cal, then turned and walked into the portal. Cal heard the sound of a portal opening from behind, and turned to meet it.