The rusted metallic door slid open with a clang that reverberated throughout the silo area. Gordon's head popped around the open door to see what lay ahead. A metal bridge connected the rocket silo to the other side and on that side, a bullsquid spat at Gordon. Gordon pulled his head back in and switched the shotgun for his Glock. The metal and plastic handgun was gripped firmly as he leaned out the corner and fired at the bullsquid.
POW POW POW POW POW
The bullets bored holes into the creature's body, green blood spattering on the wall behind it. The bullsquid jumped in the air out of reflex. Gordon's next shot went wild, ricocheting off the wall into a crate of dynamite that had been placed ever so close to the bullsquid.
BOOMM
Organs from the thing sprayed everywhere. Gordon jerked his head away to avoid getting a face full of the bullsquid's thick green blood. So instead the left side of his head got hit with the stuff. Opening both eyes, he started the wipe the offending goo with his free hand. He looked back at where the creature used to be.
A large chunk of the concrete wall and floor was missing, and the rims of the craters were charred black.
Gordon thumbed the magazine release catch and slotted in a fresh clip. Walking over the metal walkway, Gordon noticed a thick power cable strung along the side it. Logic then dictated that this was the way to the rocket power room. Hopefully it wasn't that far of a walk. The less he had to do of that, the better. Following the decaying concrete wall, Gordon delved deeper into the facility.
Unfortunately it was a long walk with several corridors that either ended in a wall or circled around themselves. And to make matters worse, they were occupied by several packs of houndeyes. Gordon was forced to switch back over to his shotgun to dispatch them. He had just finished off his third pack of five when footsteps started to echo from back towards the entrance; heavy, booted footsteps.
"Shit."
Leaning up against a wall, Gordon held the weapon close to his chest. The footsteps got closer and closer. Peculiar thing about them however, is that there were no others. The soldier was apparently traveling alone. Odd, but he could be some sort of special op sent after the HEV clad scientist. Gordon heard the footsteps enter the corridor beside him. He tensed up as they approached his position.
Gordon made his move.
Wheeling around on the heel of his right foot, Gordon smashed the soldier in the chest with the butt of his weapon. He grunted and fell down, but not before pulling out his sidearm and aiming it Gordon. The scientist pointed his weapon down… and then blinked. Lying down was not a soldier but rather the security guard from above the rocket room. The guard returned Gordon's confused expression with one of his own.
"Why the hell did you hit me?"
"Thought you were a grunt." They both lowered their weapons and sighed in relief. Gordon helped the guard on his feet and picked up his helmet for him.
"Sorry."
"S'alright, I would've done the same thing." The guard put his helmet back on and readjusted his vest.
"Hey, how'd you get down here anyways?" The guard grinned and patted the grenades that hung on his belt.
"I observed your method and simply copied it. The name's Chuck, Chuck Jones." He extended his right hand. Gordon shook it.
"Gordon Freeman. I'm from Anomalous Materials Labs."
"Sector C? Man, you've come a long way with all the systems being down."
Gordon nodded and started to walk further down the hall. Chuck followed in step, his pistol held by his left hand.
"So what are you planning to do over here?"
"Get that rocket back online and kill that tentacle thing."
"Then it's a good thing I came along. You'll need my access code to get the lift online again."
Before anything else could be said, the sound of something small and quick splashing through liquid came from further ahead. Gordon leveled his shotgun down the concrete hall and Chuck aimed his piece. A trio of houndeyes ran came into view, chirping merrily away. It almost seemed a shame to have to kill such cute little creatures. Almost. A flurry of gunfire erupted from the barrels of a pistol and a shotgun.
And with the pale green bodies of the houndeyes now becoming room temperature, Gordon and Chuck walked on. Around the next corner, they saw a pool of coolant forming just below a pipe near the ceiling that had ruptured.
"Come on, the elevator's just ahead."
The two men passed through the entrance way to the power generator's elevator. Hanging from the hundred foot ceiling were several cranes used to lift heavy objects onto the elevator as well as a small bunch of barnacles. Empty metal crates dotted the floor. In the far corner a bullsquid feasted on the remains of a freshly killed scientist. To their right was a small metal platform that opened onto a vast shaft. An eerie green glow was seen coming from below.
"If we be quiet," Gordon whispered, "we can slip right by that bullsquid and not have to fire a shot." Chuck nodded in acknowledgement. Carefully stepping around the cranes, barnacle tongues, and crates, they managed to get to the lift control panel without alerting the bullsquid. Chuck set to work reactivating the lift while Gordon kept a close eye on the bullsquid.
"There, got it!" Chuck whispered. The control panel beeped in acknowledgement as the systems came back online. Yellow lights adorning the side of the shaft came on one by one as the circuit breaker for each row was activated. The hiss of power couplings reconnected was heard from above and the lift descended to their level.
"All aboard."
The two men stepped on and Gordon hit the descend button. Gears shifted, counter weights moved, and cables slid, all to lower the lift. Gordon and Chuck breathed a sigh of relief. Gordon let his suit reabsorb the shotgun and Chuck holstered his pistol.
"Thank GOD that thing was too intent on eating to notice us." Chuck remarked, leaning against the corner of the lift.
"I'm even more relieved that it ignored this thing starting back up." Chuck nodded in agreement.
"So how far does this shaft run anyways?"
"About three hundred feet; right now we're about a third of the way down."
Gordon was about to ask Chuck a question regarding what lied ahead when the lift came to a sudden stop.
"What happened?" He asked. Chuck walked over to the activation button and pressed it. Nothing happened.
"I don't-" He was cut off by the groaning of gears from on top of the lift.
"Ohhhh… shit."
"I knew I should've called maintenance down here last week."
The elevator groaned again and buckled under their weight. The cables wouldn't last much longer.
"Is there anyway off this thing?" Gordon frantically asked.
"No but…" Chuck's eyes locked onto a ladder that ran the entire length of the shaft. "We'll have to jump over there if we want to survive." He pointed at the ladder. Gordon didn't even waste time responding. He immediately climbed onto the railing and jumped. He slammed into the ladder and somehow managed to grab onto a rung. The elevator creaked again.
"Come on!" He yelled back at Chuck. The security guard swallowed hard and ran. Hopping onto railing, he used it as step to gain extra speed and height. He jumped just in time. The cables snapped, sending the lift down the shaft. Gordon saw one of the metal ropes coming around like a whip. Squeezing his eyes shut, he cringed on the ladder.
KRAAKKK
The cable made a foot deep gouge in the concrete shaft and would've taken off Gordon's head had he not ducked. The wire lost its momentum and joined the lift at the bottom of the shaft. Chuck, amazingly, had survived without a scratch and let out a grunt as he impacted the ladder and grabbed hold.
"You okay Gordon?"
"I'm fine."
The two men took a few breaths before starting the long climb down the shaft.
Twenty minutes later Gordon hopped off the ladder and onto the solid concrete floor at the bottom. Immediately he let his arms flop by his side and sat against the wall. All four appendages felt like they were going to fall off. Chuck soon sat down beside him, feeling the same exact way.
"Man… I am NOT looking forward to the climb back up." Chuck let out between breaths. Gordon nodded in agreement and looked at the bottom of the shaft. Somehow a few of the pipes that ran down here had burst and filled the area with radioactive waste. His suit's Geiger counter was clicking away merrily at the decay rate of the isotopes.
Chuck nudged Gordon's shoulder to get his attention. Gordon groaned in response and pain from the physical contact.
"What?"
"We're not alone."
Gordon followed Chuck's gaze to see one his fellow scientists standing in front of the generator control panel a few yards away. Forcing his tired muscles to work, Gordon climbed back on his feet and walked over. Chuck groaned as he rose as well and walked a few steps behind the gun toting scientist. The man had heard the two men climbing down the ladder long ago and merely turned his head and nodded to them.
"Hello. I didn't expect you to be able to still move after that long climb."
"Trust me, we're surprised as well." Gordon said. Chuck kept silent.
"So tell me, what's the condition of the system?" The scientist simply motioned to the readout panel.
"Everything's shut down. I hope nobody expects me start up the generator. Smithers went down there and never came back." Gordon looked at Chuck. The security guard shook his head.
"No way in hell I'm going there. There's a hundred foot drop to the bottom of the generator pit and I'm not about to climb up the ladders to reactivate the thing."
"Then I guess it's up to me then." Gordon sighed and walked down the corridor.
Substations, power cables and rust covered fuse boxes lined the leaking limestone walls. It was an electrician's nightmare but somehow it all still functioned perfectly. All that was needed was for 20,000 volt electric generator to be restarted. About half way down a pipe jutted out from the floor and ran along the opposite side of the power lines. Gordon's Geiger counter started acting up again
And sure enough, around the next bend, the pipe had been breached and radioactive coolant was leaking onto the floor. Grunting, Gordon pulled himself onto the red pipe and crawled on all fours so he could avoid getting his armor charge depleted. The pool itself reeked of sludge and other waste materials. Gordon grinned to himself. The EPA would have a fit if they had the clearance to enter the facility. Then again, there'd have to be some environment around the place to speak of.
Black Mesa was in the middle of the New Mexican desert with the nearest town a hundred miles away. The only thing environmentally wise they had to worry about was the river that ran at the base of the mesa cliffs. The thought of the refreshing liquid made Gordon's throat instantly feel parched and demand relief. With no suitable fluids anywhere near, Gordon swallowed his saliva to try and quell the feeling. It did, to a degree.
Having finally passed the leak, Gordon slid off the pipe and resumed walking on the concrete floor. The pale yellow lights left over from the late seventies when the facility was first constructed lit his way forward. Up ahead was the entrance to the rocket generator. To its left was a security station. Gordon grinned and headed for the potential arms cache.
The glass barrier that served as the guard on duty's view port to those that wanted to access the generator was smeared with blood. Instinctively, Gordon's thumb grazed the button on the side of his shotgun. Cautiously, he stepped up to the metal door and pushed it open. The metal hinges creaked, the sound seemingly stifled in the surrounding area. Gordon kept his index finger hovering just above the trigger, ready to blast anything that might appear.
But nothing did.
The room inside was quiet and void of all life. Taking a relaxing breath, Gordon lowered his guard and walked in. The concrete floor had a tile like pattern to it, which seemed strange but then again, the seventies was a strange time. The backroom that connected to the booth area was in a surprisingly clean state. Unfortunately for Gordon, the place was devoid of all ammunition. He turned to leave, but his eye caught the booth door. The source of the blood wasn't resolved. Raising his shotgun once again, he prepared to open the door.
CRISH
The aluminum door was blown apart. The zombified security guard sprang at Gordon. The scientist was knocked on his back, the shotgun flying from his hands to the far side of the room. The zombie didn't even pause in its assault. It immediately knelt down, claws extended. Baring his teeth, Gordon grabbed the zombie's arms and resisted with all his strength. The mouth that ran the length of the creature's torso snapped hungrily at Gordon. It was taking all of Gordon's strength to keep the monster from tearing his body apart.
Gordon glanced at the shotgun. There was no way he could get to it and he couldn't keep up his struggle much longer. Turning his gaze back to the zombie, he narrowed his eyes. He had to rely on his own strength to get out of this situation. There was only one course of action possible. Gordon leaned back, letting the monster close some of the space between them. Then, it a mighty shout, Gordon summoned all the strength he could and tossed the creature off him. He didn't waste any time.
PAPAPAPAPAPAPAPAPAPAPAPA
The entire seventeen round magazine of Gordon's Glock was emptied into the monster. The zombie fell dead, letting out only a mere gurgle in surprise. Taking several deep breaths, Gordon reloaded the handgun and retrieved his shotgun. Finally he left, leaving the cooling corpse behind and returning to his mission of reactivating the generator.
Chuck had been right; the bottom of the generator pit was a hundred feet down. The generator itself was suspended in midair a good fifty feet above Gordon, held up by several steel support beams that jutted from the cylindrical walls. Apparently the generator produced an incredible amount of heat as the sides of the thing were completely exposed with only a thin grating acting as a barrier.
The only way up to the generator was a ladder on the other side of the pit, accessible only by a platform that ran the around its circumference. Gordon stepped on and sent it whirling around to the other side with the press of a button. When it stopped two seconds later, Gordon was grabbing onto the platform's railing, swaying in place and blinking several times. The speed had been a little too fast for his liking.
When his disorientation subsided, Gordon climbed up the (thankfully) short ladder to the generator's main control panel. Sitting by it was Smithers. His bald head was covered in grime and a pair of broken glasses sat in his lab coat pocket. The man turned to face Gordon.
"This is my hiding spot and I'm not moving until the situation has drastically improved. Now go away, and don't tell anyone I'm here."
"Sorry to tell you bud, but from the way things look, that's not going to happen any time soon."
"You're one of those pessimistic kinds of people, aren't you? All we have to do is wait for the military."
"They're already here but that has bad news as well."
"How?"
"They have orders to shoot anyone that's not wearing a uniform."
At this, Smithers face paled.
"There must be some kind of mistake…"
"No mistake about it. If I could venture a guess, it'd be that the government doesn't want they story about this getting out."
Smithers shoulders sagged and his face fell. For a moment, the only sound to be heard was the light hum of various parts of the generator that were active. Gordon crawled up beside the man and shook him slightly.
"Hey, not everything's lost. The Lambda Team has a plan to stop this invasion. And I'm heading over there, soldiers or not. There's other survivors all over the facility, banding together to survive and fight back. Granted I'm not part of any one but I've brought a few together. One way or another, we're going to beat back these aliens and show the government just what happens when they abandon their people."
It was the biggest load of bullshit Gordon ever said. Half was made up, and the other part was just half-truths. But it was enough for Smithers to regain his spark of hope.
"You're right. We're going to survive this come Hell or high water." Smithers gave Gordon a slim smile that he returned. Gordon clapped him on the shoulder once in reassurance.
"Now if you could give me a hand turning this thing back on, I'd appreciate it." Smithers looked at Gordon curiously.
"Why do you need the generator back on-line?"
"There's these big ass tentacles blocking my way and the rocket engine is the only way past them."
Smithers nodded and set to work on the control panel. Not much needed to be done. Only a few switches needed to be flipped but he had to replace a couple burnt out fuses. With an audible clunk, the power generator sprang to life. The turbines inside slowly whirred into action and spun merrily along. A pair of massive conduits lowered from their resting place high above the generator and automatically slid into place. And finally, the power flowed.
"Excellent, someone has restored all power! We'll have the engine up again in no time." Chuck looked up from his position of sitting against the wall.
"Who else could it be other than Gordon?"
"Well, it could've been Smithers…"
"From the way you were talking before, you had already written that guy off as dead."
The scientist didn't have anyway to retort Chuck's statement and merely went back to monitoring the panel readings. Chuck sighed and leaned his had against the wall. 'Some day this had turned out to be. First everything all over the facility is screwy, and then we're stuck in the middle of a God damn alien invasion.' Reaching into his back pocket of his blue jeans, Chuck pulled out his wallet and took out a photo within.
Shown smiling on it was the figures of his five month pregnant wife and seven year old daughter.
A lump formed in Chuck's throat as he thought, and not for the first time that day, that he would likely never see them again. All day long he had been trying to hold back the tears, but now, in a relatively safe place, he let them out. Squeezing his eyes shut, he let out heavy sobs at the notion of never being able to hold his baby child, at never meeting his daughter's first boyfriend, and at never hearing his wife's voice again.
Putting his free right hand up, he buried his face in it and continued to weep. People always say that seeing a grown man cry was one of the worst things in the world. And people just might be right, for anything that could bring a man to cry must be a dreadful thing. And the prospect at not seeing one's family would most certainly qualify.
Brett Johnson, the scientist, glanced over at Chuck to see what all the commotion was all about and merely had to see the photo in his left hand to understand. Brett swallowed and turned his attention back to the power console. He wouldn't understand what Chuck was going through. He had never married and was adopted. Any attempts of his to comfort the young man would be vain and hollow sounding.
Chuck continued to cry, his sobs coming through in brief chokes. The cold, hard lump of the hand grenades pressed against Chuck's back and reminded him that there was still a way out of this nightmare. It would involve danger and the very real chance at becoming room temperature, but it was is only hope.
And with God as his witness, that hope would get Chuck through this.
Regaining control over his emotions, Chuck slid the photo back into his wallet and then placed the faux leather object back in his rear pocket. Drawing his Glock, he ejected the magazine and checked it. The holes running along its rear were full, save for the top one, which meant that he had one 9mm bullet in the chamber. Satisfied, he slapped the mag back home and holstered the pistol.
"Feeling better?" Brett's hesitant voice came from to Chuck's right.
"Much, thanks."
Brett nodded and leaned against the wall. The cold concrete surface was felt through the scientist's thinning gray hair. Sighing, Brett reached into his pant's pocket and pulled out a lighter and pack of cigarettes. He had been trying to kick the habit but after everything went to hell that morning, he felt the craving for a cancer stick growing by the minute.
'May as well, if these don't kill me, the aliens will.'
Sticking one of the small, cylindrical objects in his mouth, Brett put the blue colored lighter up to its exposed end and lit it. Taking a few puffs to get the tobacco glowing, he flipped the top of the lighter back on and placed both items back in his pocket. Taking a long drag, he let his smoke slowly drift out of his nose. Brett glanced back over at Chuck.
"Want a smoke?" He offered. Chuck shook his head.
"No thanks, those things'll kill you."
Brett smirked.
"Like any of the other things running around here won't?" Now it was time for Chuck to grin.
"Touché."
As if on cue, the sound of running footsteps came from down the hall. Without a moment's hesitation, Chuck had his handgun ready and pointed down the pathway. The footsteps got louder and louder, until two figures rounded the corner. Chuck sighed in relief and let the pistol hang by his side.
"I was wondering what took you so long."
Gordon gave Chuck an exasperated look.
"We would've been here sooner if SOMEONE hadn't made such a fuss about climbing onto a pipe." At that, Smithers groaned.
"How many times do I have to remind you? The coolant used for the generator is very corrosive. I'm still amazed that neither of us slipped and fell."
Brett shook his head and took another puff from his cigarette. Smithers saw this and gave him a dirty look.
"Oh, and you're Mr. T all of a sudden? You're just as scared as I am. In fact, if I remember right, when the power went you screamed bloody murder when someone bumped into you." Brett's face flushed red and he simply took another drag.
"Children? Children? Could we stop bickering please?" Chuck's voice sounded. Gordon had walked past the security guard and looked back up the shaft where he had climbed down from a short while ago.
"So Chuck, how are we going to get back up? There's no way any of us could stand the climb without falling down."
Before Chuck could reply, Smithers spoke up.
"Actually I've been thinking about that and I believe I have a solution." He took one last puff of the spent cigarette before dropping it to the floor and crushing it with his shoe.
"The pulley system for the elevator is still functioning. If our blue clad colleague could deactivate the security override, we could pull some of the cable over to us and tie it around the waist of someone. After that, we simply start the lift system back up and the person attached to the cable would then be pulled up."
Looking at the other three individuals, he waited for some kind of response. Gordon was the first with a shrug of his shoulders.
"What the hell? It's better than climbing a few hundred feet."
Walking to the edge of the floor, Gordon took out his crowbar and cautiously put the curved end around the steel cable and pulled it towards him. Grabbing it with his left hand, he let his suit absorb the crowbar while he began to tie the wires around him.
"I'll go first. If anything goes wrong, my HEV suit would give me a better chance of surviving." Chuck took his helmet off and scratched his head.
"Are you sure Gordon? Why not let Smithers or the other guy go first?"
"They'd probably panic and piss in their pants halfway up. And you're needed down here." Gordon finished tying the cable around his waist. Brett's face turned red again while Smithers huffed and crossed his arms.
"Well, no way with arguing with that."
Taking a deep breath, Chuck started hitting the appropriate keys to retract the cable.
"When I get to the top, I'll fire off a few rounds with my pistol. That'll be your signal to stop." Chuck nodded and pressed the final key.
Gears came back to life and the slack in the wires was taken up. Gordon began to ascend into the shaft. Taking out his Glock, Gordon let the cable do its work and simply relaxed. Closing his eyes, Gordon started to wonder on what the Lambda Complex had in mind to stop this invasion. Hopefully it involved very little danger but seeing as how the situation was, he wasn't willing to place all his cards on that.
Silently, the HEV clad scientist rose higher and higher. The lights along the side of the tunnel illuminated his body in a yellow beam whenever he passed by them. The cable itself swayed only slightly under his weight. The cold, hard metal of the pistol's slide caught some of the light, reflecting it onto the approaching steel platform above. Gordon raised his pistol, ready just in case anything was up there waiting for him.
And of course there was. Standing in the middle of the room was a bullsquid, the eyes set on both sides of its head blinking at the figure coming up from the depth of the pit.
POW POW POW POW POW POW POW
The brass casing of the 9mm rounds cascaded down the shaft, the light twinkling off each one. The bullsquid didn't flinch and spat at Gordon. The man shifted his weight to the right, evading the acidic mucous. He squeezed off a few more rounds and the creature fell down dead. The gears grinded to a halt and the cable stopped moving. Putting away the handgun, Gordon began to swing back and forth on the cable, each time getting closer to the floor edge.
After a few swings, he got close enough to grab the handrail to the lift platform. Pulling himself onto the platform, Gordon undid the twisted mass of wires around his waist and let it sway back to the middle of the pit. And he waited for the gears to start up again. But they didn't. Gordon waited several more minutes, but nothing but silence was heard.
"Hey Chuck, what's going on down there!?" Gordon shouted down to the group at the bottom of the shaft. Against the green glow of the radioactive sludge, a figure stepped into view.
"Something's gone wrong! The system won't respond to my access code!" Chuck yelled back.
"How long until you get it all cleared up again!?"
"Hard to say! Just go on without us!"
"Are you sure?!"
"Yes! We'll be fine, don't worry!"
Swallowing uneasily, Gordon left his former companions behind.
If anyone's interested in contacting me, I can be found on Steam with the same handle.
