INT – BLACK MESA – ANOMALOUS MATERIALS – LOCKER ROOM
Gordon enters the locker room cautiously, the only light coming from his helmet-mounted flashlight. It is spooky in the darkness, filled with eerie shadows that all look like they could hide some sort of alien monster. He looks around, his breathing loud and tense within the helmet. His light falls on a janitorial mop and bucket set, stenciled with the Black Mesa logo; whatever became of the janitor must have happened too fast to disturb them.
As he makes his way to his locker, a shuffling noise makes him pause, glancing to his right. His light falls on the bank of lockers that separates one side of the locker room from the other. He is unable to make out anything lurking beyond.
His grip tightens on his crowbar, his only defense. He reaches his locker and quietly manipulates the combination lock, crouching so his light falls on the dial. He lifts the handle as silently as he can, and eases the door open with a faint rattle.
Something scampers along the tops of the lockers towards him. He looks up in time to see a headcrab scrabbling over the lockers. It stops short as the light hits it, and crouches in preparation to spring. He grabs the closest thing to hand – his copy of "The 37th Mandala" – and holds it up like a shield as the headcrab pounces at his face. It latches onto the thick book reflexively, its beak gnawing its way through the pages. He throws the book hard against the floor, crab-side down, and stomps on it. The headcrab squeals and dies.
There is a bellow from the other side of the row of lockers – the creature has been alerted – a headcrab zombie!
Gordon must think fast. He glances at the mop and bucket set. He gets an idea. He snatches his messenger bag from the locker, taking a moment to glance at the Albert Einstein poster for reassurance, and slams the door.
The headcrab zombie shambles around the end of the lockers. It is wearing a stained blue janitorial jumpsuit with the Black Mesa logo stenciled on the back. It glances around, notices the book with the squished headcrab under it.
It hears a sharp whistle and turns.
It barely has time to register Gordon's presence before he strikes, whipping the wet string mop around so the business end slaps the zombie across the face with a satisfying SPLAT.
The impact spins the zombie around almost 180 degrees, and before it can regain its equilibrium Gordon grabs the back of its uniform and heaves the zombie around in a wide arc to slam it, headfirst, against a locker with a thunderous crash. It staggers back, the crushed headcrab oozing yellow blood down the remains of the zombie's head, until it trips on the janitorial bucket and falls to the floor. Gordon looks down on it, prods the body with the toe of his boot, and finally nods, satisfied that it is dead, or at least disabled.
He shoulders his messenger bag and heads out of the locker room.
INT – BLACK MESA – ANOMALOUS MATERIALS – CORRIDOR
Gordon hustles along towards the staff kitchen, a purposeful look on his face.
HAZARD SUIT (FREEMAN), v.o.
"May I ask you a question?"
GORDON FREEMAN
"Go ahead."
HAZARD SUIT (FREEMAN), v.o.
"Where did you learn such skills?"
GORDON FREEMAN
"High school gym class."
HAZARD SUIT (FREEMAN), v.o.
"Oh. Did you play field hockey?"
GORDON FREEMAN
"Nope. I was a chemistry nerd all through school."
HAZARD SUIT (FREEMAN), v.o.
"Then why…?" [beat] "I see. That explains the presence of a file in your permanent record entitled 'The Capsaicin Incident'."
GORDON FREEMAN
[grins] "Our quarterback never ran so fast."
He turns a corner and enters…
INT – BLACK MESA – ANOMALOUS MATERIALS – BREAK ROOM
Gordon approaches the vending machines and considers his choices: A sandwich machine on the left, a snack machine in the middle, and a soda machine on the right. Beyond the soda machine Gordon's flashlight falls on a countertop with a microwave oven at the far end and a series of storage cabinets underneath. Beyond the counter there is a refrigerator.
Gordon jams the straight end of the crowbar behind the front of the soda machine and pries at it. After a couple heaves, the machine gives way, revealing the tidy columns of canned soda stored within. He sets the crowbar on the floor at his feet and kneels on the floor, opening his messenger bag, and starts loading it with soda.
When the bag is about a third of the way full, he hears a crackling sound behind him, like the universe clearing its throat. The sound is accompanied by a green-orange flash and followed by a slightly disoriented silence.
Gordon pauses with a can of Mountain Dew in his hand, listening hard and very carefully not moving. He hears leathery footsteps on the tiles of the hallway.
At the doorway, a digitigrade leg unfolds into view, followed by its partner. They belong to a humanoid alien of a similar type to the one that tried to blast Gordon with green lightning during his earlier unwitting jaunt to Xen, but we see that this one wears a metal collar and bracelets. It has smooth, slightly slimy dark green skin, a hunched posture, and a slender third arm growing from the middle of its chest. This is a Vortigaunt. The slit pupil of its central eye dilates, while the five smaller red eyes surrounding it gleam. Its fingertips start to crackle with electricity…
Gordon spins on one knee, side-arming the can of Dew at the alien and catching it in the chest. The lightning latches onto the metal can, which explodes in a green shower of soda, temporarily blinding the Vort while Gordon snatches up another random can of soda and takes aim.
The Vort charges, its clawed hands ready to attack.
Gordon, backed into a corner, kicks out with one boot, catching the thing in the abdomen and sending it stumbling back a few steps. As it gets ready to pounce again, Gordon swings his messenger bag, weighted down with canned soda.
The bag catches the Vort broadside, slamming it into the opened soda machine, the jolt causing the machine to eject out all the remaining cans of soda with a loud CHUNKA-CHUNKA-CHUNKA-CHUNKA.
The Vort stumbles away from the soda machine, attempting to outmaneuver this unexpectedly dangerous opponent. It steps on the rolling soda cans and flails for a few seconds, trying to regain its balance.
Gordon advances slowly, until he is only a couple of feet away from the creature.
The Vort stops flailing, having finally caught its balance… mostly.
Gordon glances down and sees that it is standing precariously on a couple rolling cans of soda. By all appearances, a hard sneeze would send it flying. Gordon smiles at the creature and, keeping his eye on his opponent, bends to pick up his crowbar from the floor.
GORDON FREEMAN
"Say goodnight."
Its expression is hard to read, but it seems to fully expect the next few seconds to hurt.
Gordon clocks it in the head with the crowbar with a satisfying CLANG. The Vort's feet go flying out from under it. It lands hard on the floor, scattering soda cans everywhere.
Gordon double-checks to make sure it is out for the count. Satisfied, he turns back to the vending machines.
GORDON FREEMAN
"High school lunchroom."
HAZARD SUIT (FREEMAN), v.o.
"I never even asked."
Gordon steps carefully between the scattered sodas and starts prying open the snack machine.
INT – BLACK MESA – ANOMALOUS MATERIALS – SERVICE LIFT
Cross, Green, and Rosenberg wait as the lift rumbles to its destination. Cross ejects a spent clip and shoves a new one into place, chambering a round with practiced ease.
DR. ROSENBERG
"Now, despite what Dr. Keller said, our priority must be the safety of Black Mesa personnel. We need to reach the surface to get to the satellite communication equipment. Once they know what's going on, I'm confident they will immediately send in the military to rescue us. There's an elevator nearby that will take us where we need to go." [The elevator rumbles to a stop] "Follow me!"
The door opens into:
INT – BLACK MESA – MAINTENANCE ROOM
This room is made of dull gray cement, with computerized controls against one wall. In the far corner a flight of stairs leads up to a security door. Rosenberg runs up them, followed by Cross and Green.
At the top of the stairs, Rosenberg keys open the door. They continue through a short hallway to another door, which opens into:
INT – BLACK MESA – HAZARD COURSE – OBSERVATION ROOM
This small, low-ceilinged room is brightly lit by fluorescent lights, revealing the computerized controls set into the middle of the wall opposite the door they came in. Flanking the terminal are a pair of windows, covered by metal shutters. In the left wall there is another service lift, while the right wall is dominated by a cork bulletin board partially covered with assessment sheets.
DR. ROSENBERG
"I should be able to activate the radio from here, so we can transmit right away when we get up there. The less time we're fiddling around with things on the surface, the better. Considering what we've seen down here, God only knows what's topside."
He starts working at the controls, occasionally dashing back and forth between the two computers.
Dr. Green glances at the metal shutter, working out where they are.
DR. GREEN
"So, this is where you watch over the Hazard certification tests?"
DR. CROSS
"Yeah. I designed the course when I was testing the Mark III Hazard suit, and retooled it for the Mark IV. [beat] I never imagined anything like this would happen."
DR. GREEN
"Neither did I. I mean, we're scientists, not soldiers."
DR. CROSS
"But I bet you're glad that Dr. Breen insisted on hazard certification."
DR. ROSENBERG
[still typing, reading the results as they flicker across the screen] "Okay, looks like the radio isn't damaged – that's a relief. It's up and ready to transmit." [nods towards the service lift] "This should get us to the surface… if it's still working. If not, we may be in trouble."
The three of them enter the lift, and Rosenberg pushes a button on the control panel.
INT – BLACK MESA – HAZARD COURSE – SERVICE LIFT
The lift gives an affirmative chime and rumbles upwards; only then does Rosenberg relax.
DR. ROSENBERG
"Thank God. That's the first good thing that's happened all day. I just hope we don't run into any problems up ahead."
DR. CROSS
"Are we headed to the service trolley?"
Rosenberg nods.
DR. ROSENBERG
"It should take us directly to the surface."
DR. CROSS
"There's a high-security access tunnel we'll have to get through first."
DR. ROSENBERG
"How high is the security clearance?"
DR. CROSS
"I should be able to override it – but the override console is at the surface end. It was designed to be used from that end, after all."
DR. ROSENBERG
"Well, there should still be security personnel who will let us through…"
Cross and Green exchange a dubious look.
DR. ROSENBERG, cont'd.
[hopeful] "… shouldn't there?"
DR. GREEN
"Sounds like somebody's never watched Star Trek."
DR. CROSS
"The turrets are going to be hell to get through."
DR. GREEN
"I'll go."
DR. CROSS
"Are you sure?"
DR. GREEN
"Well, you scored me on the speed and agility obstacles. I should be able to push a button at the end."
DR. CROSS
"Is your suit fully charged?"
DR. GREEN
"It's at 90 percent. It should be able to take a few rounds."
DR. ROSENBERG
"You know, there is a fine line between brave and suicidal…"
DR. GREEN
"Don't worry – I know exactly what I'm doing." [beat] "I hope."
The elevator comes to a halt, the door sliding open.
INT – BLACK MESA – ACCESS CORRIDOR – ENTRYWAY
There is a dimly-lit, small control room here, with a security door in the far wall and another metal door to the right. A figure in a security guard uniform sits slightly atilt in a swivel chair by a radio station, his back to them.
DR. ROSENBERG
"Ah! You see? I told you there would be nothing to worry about – we'll just have this guard radio ahead… sir?"
At this point he reaches out and takes the guard by the shoulder, intending merely to get his attention. He turns the guard in the swivel chair…
… and lets out a cry of horror, recoiling when he sees the guard has been clawed all to hell. The face is a ruin, the lower jaw torn away. Exposed ribs are visible through the gory tatters of the man's uniform. He still clutches the radio's microphone in one hand and a service pistol in the other. The slide is back on the pistol, looking like the gun jammed or ran out at a crucial moment.
Rosenberg shrinks back from the mess, pale with shock. Green looks like she wants to throw up.
DR. CROSS
[weakly] "Still want to do this?"
Green swallows her bile before speaking.
DR. GREEN
"… I don't think we have any choice."
Rosenberg gingerly over and picks up the microphone the corpse is holding – the hand comes with, still clutching the mic in a death grip. Making a face, Rosenberg presses the talk button.
DR. ROSENBERG
"Er… hello? Is anyone there?"
He releases the talk button. There is silence for a few seconds before the speaker crackles to life. An eerie cacophony howls through, sounding at first like the incoherent roar of a headcrab zombie. Then…
ZOMBIE, radio
[distorted and muffled; the sound guys will have a ball with this] "Checking in… area secure… Oh God what is that… somebody help meeeeee…"
DR. ROSENBERG
"What in God's name…?"
DR. GREEN
"This is going to suck. Dodging bullets, then dodging more of those zombie things."
Dr. Cross has been glancing around the room, and presently she sees something encouraging: a wide ventilation duct running along the ceiling, one branch of which apparently heads over the secure corridor.
DR. CROSS
"I think there may be an easier way."
DR. ROSENBERG
"What is it?"
DR. CROSS
"When I was evaluating Dr. Freeman for his Hazard certification this morning, the power went out, but he still finished the course."
DR. GREEN
"But the firing range at the end… without power, the course won't register that you hit the targets."
DR. CROSS
"That's right – and until you hit all the targets, the last door won't open."
DR. GREEN
"So how did he get out?"
DR. CROSS
"Well, I told him he would have to wait for the power to come back on, but he said he had it handled. The next thing I knew, he dropped out of a vent behind me – it scared the hell out of me."
DR. GREEN
"But that had to be more than fifty feet of vent-crawling!"
DR. CROSS
"Yeah – but according to one of the security guards, he did this all the time during his internship – apparently, Dr. Kleiner kept locking his keys in his office or something. The guard called it 'the Freeman Maneuver'."
DR. GREEN
"Well, it certainly sounds less dangerous than running through gun turrets, in any case. I'll give it a shot."
DR. CROSS
"On the bright side, the duct looks like it should accommodate you with no problem."
Cross reaches up to the low vent and jimmies it open with her crowbar. She pulls herself up on the edge of the opening, peeks inside, and drops back down, satisfied.
DR. CROSS, cont'd.
"It's wide open for a good hundred feet. When you get to the security door at the other end of the hall, just hit the security override button on the console. It should be marked. That will deactivate the gun turrets so Dr. Rosenberg and I can get through. I'll stay here in case anything tries to get in."
She looks at the mangled corpse of the guard.
DR. CROSS, cont'd.
"Just don't open the other security door until we get there. We don't know what, or how many, is in there."
DR. GREEN
"Got it. Wish me luck."
She holds up her clenched fist at about face level. Cross taps it with her own fist, then cups her hands low to boost Green into the duct. Green steps up and pulls herself into the duct, then peer back out at Cross.
DR. GREEN
"I'll let you know when I'm through."
Cross nods.
DR. CROSS
"Be careful."
Green retreats into the duct, and we hear her moving away as Cross closes the vent cover.
INT – BLACK MESA – ANOMALOUS MATERIALS – TEST LAB
Dr. Vance and Scientist #4 glance up as they hear a metallic tap-tap-tap on the door. As Vance gets up to answer it, we hear something being beamed in outside the door, accompanied by a green flash at the left end of the thin crack under the door.
GORDON FREEMAN, outside
"Shit!"
Sounds of boots running and leathery feet in pursuit. To the far right of the door, we hear a fire extinguisher going off, followed by a Vortigaunt's snarl of frustration and confusion. There is an electrical blast, followed by a muffled curse from Gordon. Pandemonium reigns outside for maybe ten seconds, until a hollow, metallic impact ends the fight.
Footsteps approach, accompanied by a heavy dragging sound. These end just outside the door, followed by heavy breathing. Finally, there is a metallic tap-tap-tap on the door, as before.
Dr. Vance exchanges a glance with Scientist #4, and then cautiously approaches the door.
DR. VANCE
"Gordon? Is that you?"
GORDON FREEMAN
[catching his breath] "Yeah. Let me in."
Dr. Vance sighs in relief. He operates the retinal scanner, and the door hisses open.
Gordon's hazard suit and visor are spattered with yellow alien blood. In particular, his right arm is splashed with yellow, as is the spent and dented fire extinguisher he still holds.
DR. VANCE
"My God, Gordon! Are you okay?"
GORDON FREEMAN
"Relatively speaking."
He drops the fire extinguisher on the floor. He un-shoulders his messenger bag, now filled with soda and bagged snacks.
GORDON FREEMAN, cont'd
"I brought some food and drinks, and the first aid kit from the break room."
He sets the bag on the floor near Scientist #4 with a thud.
GORDON FREEMAN, cont'd
"Careful. The soda might be a bit fizzy." [beat] "It's not much in the way of nutrition, but it should keep you going until help arrives."
He rummages in the bag and surfaces with a white metal box with a red first-aid cross on it. He hands this to Vance.
GORDON FREEMAN, cont'd.
"Just in case."
DR. VANCE
"Thanks, Gordon."
Scientist #4 investigates the contents of the messenger bag.
GORDON FREEMAN
"Now the two of you just stay put until help arrives. There's a lot of scary stuff out there [motions to his spattered self] as you can probably tell. I'll be back as soon as I can. And lock up behind me."
He turns and heads back for the open doorway. Presently, Scientist #4 surfaces with a snack bag…
SCIENTIST #4
"Funyuns? I *hate* Funyuns!"
Gordon stops dead in his tracks, a muscle twitching in his jaw. He slowly turns back, giving Scientist #4 a look of pure doom.
GORDON FREEMAN
"Tell you what. Next time I make a snack run, you can come with me and pick out whatever you like. And since you offered…"
He heads outside and hauls something into the room: the battered corpse of a Vortigaunt, with Gordon's crowbar hooked into the back of its skull like a gaffing hook. Both Vance and Scientist #4 recoil from the corpse in surprise and horror.
GORDON FREEMAN, cont'd.
"You can help me kill any more of these we run across."
DR. VANCE
"Good God! What is that?"
GORDON FREEMAN
"It *was* dangerous. *Now* it's a specimen. You might be able to find out a thing or two about these things."
He wrenches the crowbar out of the corpse with a sickening crunch.
Scientist #4 stares at the alien corpse in wide-eyed silence. In the background we hear distant sounds of gunfire, alien monsters, and people dying. Scientist #4 regards the bag of Funyuns in his hand, then glances at the dead Vortigaunt, and finally looks at Gordon, considering the fact that Gordon is fairly uninjured and in a protective suit, and he is not.
SCIENTIST #4
[cowed] "I suppose nobody ever died from eating Funyuns."
GORDON FREEMAN
"Glad to hear it." [to Vance] "Any idea where I can find a new helmet radio? This one's shot."
DR. VANCE
[still looking apprehensively at the dead alien] "There might be some in a supply closet in the lower levels of the office complex, near the research labs. If not, I'm sure you can cobble something together. You've always been quite… resourceful."
GORDON FREEMAN
"All right. Thanks."
Gordon leaves, and Dr. Vance secures the door behind him.
SCIENTIST #4
[sulky] "I still don't think he needed to take that tone with me."
DR. VANCE
"Shut up and eat your goddamn Funyuns, Walter."
Scientists #4 opens the bag and munches unhappily.
End of Part 3.
Author's note: I cut out pretty much the entirety of the Hazardous Course mission because I didn't like the way it flowed. The scenes with Gordon in the locker room and kitchen were to give the Decay subplot time to catch up, so that the distress call to Santego will have gone out by the time Gordon gets to the offices in the next chapter. I'm going to have fun in the coming scenes demonstrating that Gordon is smart as well as a badass... esp. when the military arrives for "We've Got Hostiles" up ahead... (science nerd + survival situation = MacGyver?)