The tunnel was, as I expected, very moist and very unpleasant. As I slid I accelerated quickly, and the white bar far below me soon widened into a yawning opening. The closer I got the more I could make out, until finally I emerged from the pipe into a splash pool. I burst into the water, sinking slowly, and it was a few moments before I got my bearings together and pulled myself to the surface.
I gasped for air and was met with a stench even more foul than from the sewers above. I wasn't sure where we were now: the pool I floated in flowed out via a small stream into a drain system some distance away which plummeted through a large steel grate and into the gloomy depths of the earth. I looked around: behind me was a cliff, into which the pipe was built and from which it jutted now, spewing a slow drip of sewage from the city. Before me was a small section of sandy beach, which extended far off to either side. It was littered with large boulders, grassy mesas and – most noticeably – junk. Doors, crates, paint cans, planks... this beach surely contained everything that City 17 had ever thrown out, and in some places it was so tightly-packed that the sand was hidden beneath it. Had I then known the purpose of this abstract collection of refuse, I wouldn't have pondered it so deeply, but I did not. I would be quick to figure out, though. I dragged myself out of the water and collapsed onto a concrete slab.
Behind me, another splash alerted me to the arrival of the squad. Apparently they had entered en masse, as there was only one sound and they all surfaced at once in a confused, soggy group. They looked around, and waded over to where I had climbed onto the ledge.
"Where now?" I asked of Kyle, who was inspecting his gun. It was good to see he had his priorities straight – checking his weapon before even performing a headcount. Then again, if the Combine chanced upon us now with malfunctioning pistols, we'd be the next things to litter the dull sands of this scrapyard beach. Kyle looked around and somehow drew a location from the vague surroundings.
"Oh. Shit... this isn't... right..." He said half to himself, and frantically drew a damp map from a dripping satchel at his side. He quickly unfurled the scroll to reveal a map of the area around the city – I looked over his shoulder and tried to make sense of it.
City 17 and its local environment was unfamiliar to me – I hadn't even been here a day – but the cluster of buildings in the centre of the map was unmistakable as it was the only city there, and certain points of interests were roughly circled in vibrant red. Kyle indicated one such circle now.
"We need to get to here. Black Mesa East." He then moved his finger in a large arc around the city to the opposite side, in an empty stretch of coast bordering the sea. "And we're here."
"Is this a joke? It's because I'm new here, right?" I objected. Kyle looked at me with an expression of sarcastic disbelief.
"Yeah. I'm kidding. It's a fucking joke. Now you just walk that way till you're up to your knees in antlions, then it gets really funny. That's the punchline – we all get desiccated and die horribly because the fucking map was upside down, or something. Everyone laugh!" Kyle began to laugh with an almost insane desperation, and I looked appealingly around. The others were as confused and stunned as I.
"There are no jokes here. We're not play-fighting, we're not kids with mud stripes painted on our cheeks. I don't know if you noticed, but the world is run by aliens. And even the bits that they don't run are infested with God-knows-fucking-what. We are not at an advantage against them, we do not have the upper hand at all. We don't even know what we're doing! So just assume from hereon out, if you'd be so kind, that I am not joking." A long, uncomfortable pause ensued. I knew he was right, everyone knew he was right, but... I hadn't even known Kyle that long, and I knew this was definitely not like him. He sighed heavily, and threw his arms up.
"I'm sorry. I get stressed and snap easily, it's... it's a condition. Maybe they'd treat me for it if the Combine hadn't slaughtered everyone even partially qualified." He laughed weakly, a sharp contrast to his mad, bellowing laughter earlier. "Just... just don't take it to heart, okay? I'm sorry. We do need to move though."
"I get it. Let's go." I replied sharply.
If he'd told us anything then it was that there was no time for sentimentality. If I'd thought I was going to make friends on this... whatever this was, I was wrong – this was about survival, and nothing more. No attachments, no frivolity, no light chit-chat between acquaintances. And no jokes. We lived or we died, and that was the end of it. Kyle knew that, and now we knew it too.
We gathered around the map, gathered our bearings, and set out.