Disclaimer: I don't own Half-Life.

Welcome to City 17

Chapter Nine: Sandtraps

The car jolted a little as it passed over yet another abandoned tyre on the road. Grimacing at the way his glasses dropped down his nose, Gordon adjusted his course accordingly.

His flashlight was not helping at all. The range was so limited. All it helped him do was identify what he was he was about to run over, pretty much as he ran over it. God, he hated driving in the dark. He supposed that most people did, but at least they had headlamps that worked. These had been shattered, although he didn't know whether that was from him or from some crash long before he grabbed the wheel.

Scratching his earlier thought, Gordon decided he hated driving in the dark with this car. Buggy. Car. Whatever the hell it was, it was useless. That much he had ascertained from the fact that the bag of supplies he had been given by the people of St Olga's had fallen off and tumbled down a very steep cliff before tearing open on the rocks below and exposing the contents to the shallow sea. Which left him with a crowbar, a Gravity Gun, and a box full of machinegun ammunition that he couldn't use because some bright spark at St Olga's had taken the gun itself out of the ammo crate and stuffed it into said bag.

As if being attacked by random soldiers from years ago wasn't bad enough…

Gordon was snapped out of his reverie when someone stepped out from behind a crashed pickup truck. The body thumped against the front of the buggy and promptly tumbled overhead, finally crashing down to the ground behind him. He slammed his boot down on the brakes, leaning forward as the wheels did their best.

He was out of the buggy and sprinting to the body before the vehicle had even stopped. Coming to a skidding stop beside the body, he knelt down and turned it over. With a yelp that was far more girly than he was comfortable with, Gordon frantically backed up before finally managing to get to his feet. Breathing heavily, he cautiously made his way towards the body once more.

Upon confirming the diagnosis with his flashlight, Gordon sighed, closing his eyes and rubbing the bridge of his nose.

Thank God. Just a zombie. Well, thank God for the fact he hadn't killed some terrified civilian or rebel. No thank you God for the fact that zombies were in this pitch black tunnel in the first place. Of all the places they could hang out, it had to be the stereotypical dark, dank tunnel with only flickering maintenance lights for company.

Then again, he supposed finding zombies in fields of daisies and lilies would be a bit odd.

Shoulders slouching after the sudden burst of adrenaline, Gordon made his way back to the car and set off again. He couldn't afford to be wasting time now; it had taken him far too long just to get the old man at St Olga's to take him to his car, let alone the amount of time it took to drive to the tunnel.

So, if he just kept on going down the tunnel, everything should be-

He once more hit the brakes and stopped. A distinct groan escaped his throat as he saw the multi-car pile-up in front of him.

"Fine," he muttered, reaching around and pulling up the Gravity Gun.

It was a long yet satisfying process. There was something that appealed to the scientist in him about putting things in their place, organising them. Of course, there was a slight difference between blasting cars around a tunnel and accounting for phase variances in the thermostatic field, but still… it felt the same. Sort of.

And, yes. It was cool to punch cars around. But it was mostly the organising thing.

As he blasted the last car away, clearing a straight (if awkward) path for his buggy, Gordon heard the distinct howling of old zombie friends. As the snarled groans became louder, he ran and clambered into the buggy through the front 'window', bouncing down into the chair as he turned on the ignition. The buggy roared to life, and he watched as zombies filled up the road.

Lacing his arm through the wheel, he reached for the mounted Tau Cannon with the other. He gave the buggy a burst of speed, and he launched forward. The buggy thumped violently against the dozen or so bodies waiting for him, some of the impacts helped by a few blasts from the Tau Cannon. Some of the skinless little bastards clung on longer than the others, but a few sharp turns trampled them underfoot.

Sunlight bore down on him as he turned another corner, and he allowed himself a long exhalation. Within a few seconds, the buggy was roaring out into the open air, the gentle brushing of the tide barely reaching his ears over the rumbling of the engine. The road curved off to the left around the cliffside, giving him a view of a long, grassy field on his right. As the turning gradually straightened out, a lone house that looked as though it would die at any moment came into view, sitting in the middle of the field.

Eyebrow cocked and his need for supplies overriding his caution, Gordon turned the buggy off the road and onto the grassy, sandy ground, the bouncing from the rough terrain threatening to jostle his glasses free. A high white fence ran around the house like a tall, thin moat. Gordon slowed a little as he approached it, not wanting to smash the already fragile looking buggy through anything else.

A noise from behind the fence tweaked his ears. He left the engine on and waited for a few moments.

A Combine radio.

Before he could even shift the buggy into reverse, a Combine van came crashing through the fence, thundering down on him like a juggernaut. Slamming the gear stick into reverse, Gordon took off, swerving this way and that to avoid the blasts coming from the mounted weapon atop the van. They looked like the same high powered blasts that came from the rifle Victor had been carrying.

As he reached the road, Gordon yanked the wheel around, sending the buggy careening around in a wide arc. Frantically shoving the stick forward, Gordon roared away, some of the high powered bullets exploding loudly against the metal frame of the buggy. Trying to keep his eye both on the road and the vehicle behind him, Gordon swerved from side to side as the van tried to match him.

Another round blasted past his ear, and Gordon scowled. Okay, no more of that.

Reaching forward, he started charging the Tau Cannon and moved the car over so that it was parallel to the van, just further ahead. Then he hit the brakes. He jolted forward in his chair, his glasses reaching the very tip of his nose as he watched the van continue on past him. The van itself looked far too well armoured to be stopped by the Tau Cannon, even when it was fully charged, but perhaps the gun was a little more vulnerable. The awkward position of the glasses on his nose forced Gordon to tilt his head backwards and look down at the van like a disapproving headmaster.

The Combine gun took aim, and Gordon fired.

Eureka, as Dr Kleiner would say.

With a neat, small explosion, the gun flipped back off the van, landing in a smoking heap on the road behind it. Gordon sat back down in the car, shoved the glasses back up his nose and gunned it, leaving the van literally in his dust.

The fact that his car was smaller and lighter held no bearing on how fast the van caught up to him, however, and sooner than he was comfortable with it was once more right behind him, ramming the back of buggy impatiently.

The road went up in front of him before a sudden left turn. The cliffside beyond the barriers was steep, leading down into the violently crashing waves below.

Increasing his speed, Gordon made a beeline for the corner, the Combine van easily matching him and slamming into him as he went. He looked over his shoulder, and two more soldiers hopped down onto the framework of the buggy, machineguns at the ready. It seemed they weren't in the mood to ask him to stop.

He reached the corner and forcefully turned the car as he yanked up the handbrake, sending the car tumbling over, crushing the two unwanted passengers and leaving them to be similarly squashed beneath the closely following van. The buggy stopped upside-down beside the barrier, giving Gordon only a half-second to curl himself up protectively before the van came crashing down on him, moving too fast and too close to him to stop itself. Gordon clenched his jaw and grunted in pain as he was forced into a painful foetal position.

And then, suddenly, the pressure was gone. Opening his dazed eyes, Gordon gradually managed to extricate himself from the warped remains of the car and drag himself out into the road. A loud crash echoed from down below, and Gordon couldn't help but smile as he lay on the tarmac, staring up into the misty sky.

After a few moments of smiling like an idiot, Gordon hauled himself to his feet. Time for all that 'thank God I survived' crap later. Right now he had to get the car up and… well, sort of running. Gordon doubted the car was good for much of anything anymore.

After pulling it the right way up (although, considering just how warped and bent out of shape it was, he wasn't too sure which was the right way up), Gordon managed to squeeze himself inside before starting the engine with eyes clenched shut. With a painful wheeze, the engine sprang to life, and Gordon was on his way.

Another tunnel waited for him, this one thankfully bereft of zombies. Considering the Tau Cannon was dangling precariously from a clutch of multi-coloured wires, Gordon doubted it would be of much use to him against a lamb, let alone a zombie.

Another complicated looking checkpoint awaited him on the other side, although it looked long abandoned. No-one bothered him, so he let it be. After investigating a house with a murderous van inside, he had no desire to go tempting fate again only for a helicopter to burst out. He hated helicopters.

And, finally, after another long, dark tunnel, Gordon saw the lighthouse. Trundling down the now rather sandy road, Gordon noticed someone waving him over.

"Hey, over here!"

He brought the car into the heart of the settlement, where two crimson sheds awaited him beside an enthusiastic rebel. Two long, flat bungalows on his right and ahead of him framed the settlement, a gradually inclining path between the two buildings leading up to the eponymous lighthouse.

"We're picking up radio chatter; they're looking for your-" his eyes fell to the buggy, and as though sensing that its journey was over, the engine puttered out pathetically.

"…car. Wow. Uh… what… happened?"

Gordon pulled himself out of the warped frame and stretched. "A van."

"A… van?"

He turned and yanked the crowbar out from behind the seat. "A van."

A smile spread across the rebel's bearded face as he watched Gordon slip the crowbar into its sheath.

"Wow. That's the crowbar, isn't it?"

Most definitely not in the mood for hero worship at the moment, Gordon just let a brown eyebrow shoot up as he stared at the rebel.

His admirer's grin faded, if only slightly. "You'll have to get your car in the garage," he said, nodding to the open shed behind him.

Gordon nodded, and swung the Gravity Gun around. The rebel nodded to the weapon, confused.

"What's th-"

With a single blast, Gordon sent the buggy remains tumbling into the shed, leaving only the slightest edge poking out. Gordon walked over and pushed the rest in with his foot. The rebel, suitably shaken up by the sudden blast, reached up and closed the metal door.

"Ho…kay doc," he began, clearing his throat as he led Gordon towards the bungalow behind him, "you'll have to go on foot from here. There's a secret path along the cliffside, but no-one's going anywhere until we fight off this attack."

Gordon had barely processed the word 'attack' before a shotgun was being shoved into his hands by the grinning rebel.

"Having you here to fight alongside us is going to make a big difference for morale."

Only then did Gordon notice all the other rebels milling around the base, unabashed stares boring into him. Resigned, Gordon cocked the shotgun as the rebel's head whipped up, intense gaze on the sky behind the scientist.

"Oh, crap. Here come the dropships!"

For a moment, Gordon had no idea what he was talking about. Then the low humming came, and his rebel friend was jogging away at a fair clip, heading for the house on the far side of the compound.

Rather than follow suit, Gordon slipped around the back of the garage as the dropship roared overhead, kicking up dust as it came to a rest at the entrance to the compound. Poking his head around, he saw a metal hatch slam to the ground. At least half a dozen soldiers poured out. They spread out quickly, some going around the back of the garage sheds and the others to the house on the left.

Gunfire erupted, and Gordon started backing up to intercept the soldiers coming from around the shed.

As the dropship took off again, Gordon heard the distinct crackle of Combine radio chatter and crouched down, peeking around the shed.

A high powered, glowing bullet shattered through the wood, and Gordon barely turned his head away in time to avoid a face-full of splinters. A grenade bounced down to his feet, and Gordon launched himself over the low wall in front of him, the explosion pushing him further across the dusty road than he intended.

Rolling with it, he brought the shotgun around from his lying position, and blasted away at the first glowing blue eyes he saw. The first soldier went down with a loud grunt. Another grenade tapped to the ground in front of him, and Gordon dropped the shotgun, scooping up the Gravity Gun. He blasted it right back, the grenade exploding just as it reached his targets.

A Combine rifle flew through the air and landed on the road a few feet away from him. Kicking up dust as he went, Gordon scooped both it and his shotgun up, using the strap on the shotgun to hang it from his shoulder. This was the same rifle Victor had been using.

"Pulse rifle!" a female medic said, her small stature and voice completely wrong for this kind of situation. "Nice!"

Gordon inspected the blue-chrome rifle, the thin design and almost semi-circular barrel at the front reminding him of a Tommy gun. Although not quite. Tommy guns didn't have glowing red parts on the bullets when they were in the chamber, waiting to be fired.

"Another dropship, coming over the road!"

The gruff announcement caught Gordon's attention, and he followed the medic to her hiding place behind the barn as another dropship landed at the foot of the path leading up to the lighthouse.

"How's it going, Freeman?" she asked breathlessly, reloading her MP7.

Gordon regretted that he knew the names of these weapons now. He took a breath.

"Okay, I guess."

"With you here, it's gonna get a whole lot better."

He bit back the instinctive and uncertain 'Sure' that was about to escape his lips. It was already the end of the world, he didn't need to bring the girl's morale down any lower than it already was.

She moved her head around to check, and a small puff of red exploded from the woolly hat she wore. The girl collapsed on her back, dead, glazed eyes staring up at the sky.

Closing his eyes, he fought his trembling lip and proceeded around the sheds until he was peeking out to where the road met the bottom of the ridge leading up to the lighthouse.

He ran to the house opposite, going unnoticed by the Combine soldiers fighting the rebels in the other house. Gordon came up behind the soldiers as the dropship buzzed overhead. Lifting the pulse rifle, he held down the trigger and didn't stop, each thudding bullet blazing through soldier after soldier. Three were down before the others noticed there was someone they hadn't killed in the house behind them, and they took cover behind some rocky outcroppings accordingly.

But they were in a crossfire now. They couldn't take cover from Gordon without leaving themselves open to the other rebels.

And so they were soon dead, an eerie quiet settling around the compound.

The rebel that had welcomed him hurried over.

"Thanks," he said grimly, looking around the base. "You're as good as they say."

Gordon grunted and tossed the spent pulse rifle away. Bringing the shotgun up, he looked around Lighthouse Point.

"How many dead?"

"Uh," he gasped, breathing heavily. "Not sure. There were three in this house, and they were all taken out by that last dropship. One wounded in our house."

Gordon made his way around the house beside him, giving a better view of the lighthouse at the top of the hill. "Four."

"What?"

Slowly, he turned and looked the rebel in the eyes. "Four dead. A medic was shot over there."

He nodded. "Mary. She was new."

His chest heaved from the sudden stabbing pain there. "Sorry," he muttered, that being about all he could manage at the moment.

"Dropship heading for the Lighthouse!"

Both Gordon and the rebel looked at the source of the voice, then up to the humming that seemed to come from all around. They tucked themselves in beside the house, and this time, Gordon snuck a peek around the corner. He wouldn't waste another life just because he was too afraid to look. A bare old tree blocked the soldiers view of him as they poured out of the dropship. It didn't even bother to land, merely hovering beside the path that ran around the base of the Lighthouse.

Then, another familiar alien noise sounded through the air. A kind of groaning metal, all rage and fire.

"Gunship!" a female voice chirped up, and Gordon couldn't help but close his eyes at how he really should have predicted it.

"Head for the Lighthouse Freeman, there's rockets in there!" the rebel beside him announced.

Frustrated, Gordon turned to the rebel. He was tired of thinking of these people as nothing but casualties. "What's your name?"

Slightly off put, the rebel blinked. "What?"

"Your name."

"Uh… Kinsey. Tom Kinsey."

Gordon nodded. "Right. Thank you, Tom."

There. Gordon knew his name. Now it meant that he couldn't be shot randomly, because he was a person. It would mean something to someone if Tom Kinsey died from a stray bullet.

With that, Gordon snatched a grenade from the man's belt and launched himself out into the open air, turning his momentum into a mad rush for some hastily erected fencing. After almost charging headlong down the cliff behind it, Gordon took a moment to compose himself before tucking the shotgun under his arm.

He pulled the pin on the grenade and started running again.

The six soldiers were almost past him on their way to the town, but one was close enough for Gordon to stuff the active grenade down his vest. With a hefty shove, he pushed the soldier away and leapt to the ground, rolling as much as possible as he brought up the shotgun. The grenade exploded, sending bits of soldier everywhere, also setting off the grenades in his belt. The resulting explosion took out the two soldiers closest to him.

Shotgun at the ready, Gordon walked into the cloud of dust and smoke like a man possessed, blasting away at the glowing blue eyes he could see. Finally, the shotgun was spent and Gordon tossed it away, bringing out the crowbar to dole out punishment to anyone left.

But there was no-one.

Gordon let his tensed arm drop, and breathed out a sigh of relief.

The gunship groaned once more. Angry weapons fire exploded from behind him, kicking up dust in the ground as the trail of high powered projectiles moved towards him.

He started running up the hill, finally diving behind some rocks to avoid the brunt of the attack. It was demolished in seconds. Light machinegun fire went off in the distance, and Gordon peeked over the collapsed remains of the boulder. It was the rebels, taking pot-shots at the gunship in a bid to distract it. To their credit, it was working.

Sort of.

Gordon kicked off and started running around the lighthouse, looking for a door. He barely used the handle as he barged his way through and thundered up the stairs. The metal echoing of his boots on the spiralling staircase was almost non-existent compared to the intimidating roar of he gunship.

Windows exploded out towards him as the gunship fired randomly on the lighthouse, the rounds doing nothing to the thick wall of the building.

Eventually, Gordon found himself stumbling onto the top floor, gasping for breath as he fell onto the ammo crates there. Opening the metal green box, he heaved out the rocket launcher and grabbed a handful of orange missiles. He headed for the next, final staircase that would take him up and out into the open air.

The gunship seemed to spot him straight away, which didn't surprise Gordon in the least. The barest of resigned sighs on his lips, Gordon shoved the first rocket into the launcher and lined up the shot.

Ignoring how close the bullets were coming to his head, Gordon fired and watched the rocket spiral madly through the air, following the laser guide. As he tried to point it in the right direction, the gunship's bullets shattered the light behind him, sending a shower of exploding glass over the back of his head. An intense ringing kept him distracted long enough for the gunship to get a lock on the rocket tailing it and shoot it down in a brilliant, trailing flash.

Scowling, Gordon scrambled for the next rocket, keeping his head down as the gunship fired away on its latest pass, only stopping once it was on the other side of the lighthouse.

Rocket in place, Gordon stood up, aimed and fired. This time there was nothing the gunship could do except take it right on the nose. With a roar that made Gordon smile, the flying behemoth swerved around in the air unsurely, its backside eventually coming around to face him as it struggled to find its bearings. Gordon slammed in the next rocket and fired.

This one hit the propeller at the back of the beast, sending it even further off course, bobbing up and down in the air like an injured bird as it circled the lighthouse ominously. But it didn't fire, and Gordon quickly saw why; the gun had been destroyed. So what the hell was it doing?

Gordon's grip on the rocket launcher slackened considerably as he watched the behemoth turn and head straight for the middle of the lighthouse. Tossing the rocket launcher to the floor, Gordon ran to the other side of the walkway, latching onto the guardrail.

The gunship ploughed through the lighthouse, its momentum almost taking it through the entire building. The top half of the lighthouse tumbled backwards and teetered dangerously towards the cliff behind it. Gordon jumped from the guardrail and slid down the now slanted lighthouse, aiming for the now inert rear of the gunship. He prayed that the propeller wouldn't start up again before he hit it.

Behind him, the building began to crumble. He could hear metal tearing and concrete cracking as he fell. The gunship was loosened from the lighthouse as the building tore itself apart. Gordon landed hard on the back of the gunship, boots slipping on the smooth white surface as it bent wildly out of the control. His HEV suit squeaked and whined as it slid down the gunship before finally launching him off the tail end and towards the barely alive tree he had been using for cover earlier.

Except for one small detail.

He was going to overshoot the tree by a fair amount.

He brushed the very tips of the branches before hurtling to the hard, hard ground beside the houses. He kicked up a ridiculous amount of dust as he rolled violently along, finally coming to an abrupt halt against the low wall running around the sheds.

"Oh…" He scowled. "Ow."

The HEV suit pinged. Apparently, leaping off a collapsing lighthouse, rebounding off a gunship and slamming into the ground at high speed? Not a good idea.

He sighed.

Well, you live and learn. Thank you for this lesson, HEV suit.

"Dr Freeman! Dr Freeman!"

His eyes flickered open, and he realised that his glasses had fallen off. Two blurry figures stood over him, peering down interestedly.

"Yes?" he mumbled, throwing out an unsure hand against the wall beside him before finally getting a grip and pulling himself up into a sitting position. That was all he was willing to attempt right now. Sitting and speaking. Seemed like a good starting point.

"I found these, Dr Freeman."

He felt something cold slip around his face, and realised they were his glasses. "Thank you," he said quietly, barely aware of anything at the moment. His HEV suit was getting pretty low. Joy.

"This way, Doctor Freeman. We'll take the cliff path before another gunship finds us."

His brain literally feeling loosened, he didn't really take in the Kinsey's words. Gordon's gaze slowly travelled up to the man. "I'm sorry?"

"The cliff path. I've gotta get you on the way to the Vortigaunt camp."

The scientist stared dumbly. "I'm sorry?"

"Are you all right, Dr Freeman? You seem a little confused."

The rebel beside Kinsey, a girl, muttered, "Maybe he hit his head."

A scowl knotted his features, simultaneously making his headache worse. Using the hand clamped down on the wall, he managed to haul himself to his feet.

"Not confused. Just…" He rubbed his eyes beneath his glasses. "Tired."

Looking to the rebels, he didn't see a single spark of understanding in any of them. They just nodded and seemed to be waiting, breathlessly, for him to do something else.

"Uh… Kinsey. Where's the cliff path?"

"Oh! Right, right."

The rebel led him excitedly to the lighthouse. Gordon followed, scooping up a fallen MP7 as he went. Kinsey scurried down the stairs of the lighthouse once they got inside. Blank wooden crates littered the ground floor, leaving only a blank patch of wall about the same width as a door. Gordon looked over at Kinsey expectantly.

The rebel gestured to the wall.

"Right along there, and… watch your step."

Tapping away on a keypad on a metal pillar beside him, Kinsey looked uncomfortable under Gordon's gaze, getting the code wrong a few times before flashing him a nervous smile and getting it right on the fourth go. Gordon would have felt guilty, but he was getting tired of this stuff. If they wanted to treat him like the messiah, great, good for them. But he wasn't going to be made uncomfortable in the few peaceful moments he got between slaughterhouses.

With a small smile and a nod, Gordon turned and stepped through the now open wall, which Gordon found hid a very thick metal door. Blue sky was all he could see in front of him, and only the barest of paths stopped him from tumbling to the crashing waves below. And the rocks, Gordon just couldn't help but notice the rocks.

The door closed behind him, and Gordon was once more alone. He wasn't sure if he preferred it this way or not.

On his right was nothing but a sheer drop. Left revealed the slightest of rocky shelves that would take him to a cave on the far side of the cliff-face. Gunfire crackled from up above, and the low hum of a dropship filled the air. Looking up, Gordon saw said ship flying overhead, something thin and wiry grasped between its claws.

His car.

The Combine had taken his car.

His. Car.

Now, Gordon had never been one to care much about cars. They were just a quicker, louder, more pollution heavy method of getting yourself around. He had never understood the attachment he had seen other men develop with their automobiles. Barney sprang to mind, with his strange nicknames and sometimes too affectionate patting and stroking.

But now, seeing the vehicle that had been his saviour for the past day or so being carried away to have horrific, terrible things done to it…

Well, it just made him mad. You don't just… take a man's car. You just don't.

Oh, there would be hell to pay for this. There wasn't any more gunfire coming from up above, so Gordon assumed that either the dropship merely came for his car, or…

He closed his eyes and shook his head. Loosening up his shoulders, Gordon shimmied his way across the cliff-path and into the sandy tunnel, sunlight from the other side leading the way easily. Gordon enjoyed the brief respite from the blazing light. While it wasn't that hot, the cloudless sky was making the constant squinting a bit of an annoyance.

Making his way out of the cave, Gordon crossed a dry, grassy plain, dusty boots crunching against the weeds and grass. Something caught his eye in the distance, and he picked up the pace, breaking into a light jog as he reached some distinctly rocky ground. A pit of sand sat before him, framed by tall rock faces stretching around from Gordon's right and behind the two people sat on a rocky platform in the middle.

"Hold still, Lazlo… someone's coming."

One was lying on the sand. The other, crouched on the large disc of a rock beside him, gestured wildly to Gordon with his MP7.

"You there, stop where you are! Stay on the rocks! Don't step on the sand, it makes the Antlions crazy!"

Gordon took an instinctive step back from the edge, eyeing the sand as he thumbed the safety off on the MP7.

"Lazlo, don't move." Lazlo, lying on his back, clearly did not hear the instruction, and groaned as he tried to sit up.

A rumble shook the ground ever so slightly, and Gordon waved the MP7 at all the sand he could see.

"No- help!"

The sand exploded upwards, giant blurs of green erupting up and surrounding Lazlo and his friend. Gordon saw a thin claw stab through Lazlo's neck.

"Lazlo!"

The intensity of the friend's cry made Gordon ache a little, but he first concentrated on clearing the Antlions. Between them, Gordon and Lazlo's companion managed to get rid of the monsters without much trouble, although the scientist managed to deplete his weapon. So the crowbar and Gravity Gun were all he had now. Nothing like fair play.

A pathway of rocks led around the sandpit, some leading off towards a thin 'alleyway' on the left. Gordon made a note of it before hopping along the rocks like stepping stones and jumping to the side of Lazlo's friend.

Gordon tried not to think of the bloody mess laying before him as a person. Unsurprisingly, it didn't help, so he closed his eyes and looked away.

"Dear God… Poor Lazlo. The finest mind of his generation… to come to such an end…"

About to offer his sympathies, Gordon realised the man was barely listening to him.

"We were heading to the Vortigaunt camp. We were hoping to get some bug bait so these damn things would leave us alone. But without Lazlo… what's the point?"

Gordon considered asking about 'bug bait', but immediately dismissed it as inappropriate. His scientist way of looking at everything as a problem to be solved often misled him when it came to people and emotions and grief. But if the past few days had given him anything, it was a crash course in dealing with people experiencing intense emotional states.

"I know you tried to help," Lazlo's friend muttered, bringing Gordon back to Earth. "I'll stay with him awhile. There's… something I have to do. I hope you have better luck than we had. Just… remember to stay off the sand. The Antlions are edgy right now."

His shoulders suddenly looking heavy, the man knelt by Lazlo's remains. Gordon decided it would be best not to put a hand on his shoulder, which was his initial idea.

"Thank you," he murmured, before heading for the entrance to the passageway.

Waves crashed against the shore, and, somewhere in the distance, birds squawked. Whether they were seagulls or not, Gordon couldn't tell. He didn't even know if seagulls were still alive. He hoped so, even though he had no particular affinity towards them. He just wanted something normal and mundane to have survived.

The first few jumps weren't so difficult in that the rocks weren't that far away from each other. It was when the gap extended more than five feet that he was stuck. Luckily (or randomly, he was never sure about these things), bits and pieces of planking, loose rocks and trees lay about the sandy ground. For anyone else, they would have been impossible to reach and utilise properly.

But for someone with a Zero Point Energy Field Manipulator…

Gordon levelled the Gravity Gun at a particularly long plank of wood, faded white paint revealing just how thin it was. He let it rest between the flat rocky ground he stood on and the island that he wished to get to. Walking the tightrope was made somewhat more difficult by the Gravity Gun lumbering around him, and his feet slipped onto the sand more than once. With each miniscule touch, the ground thundered and shook, as though the sand itself was quivering with fear at what was digging its way up.

It went on like that for awhile, Gordon scrabbling for whatever he could find with the Gravity Gun to help him bridge each sandy gap. Some rebel-made difficulties got in his way (like some complicated see-saw mechanism which didn't seem to serve any purpose except to annoy him) but before long he was inching his way past some disused old houses. He imagined that when the sea had been at its normal level, the houses here would have been quite idyllic, at just the right height that the water would have merely tickled the edges of the ground around them.

It struck Gordon that no-one on the entire planet would go on a beach vacation ever again. The thought distracted him enough that he almost tried to walk through the door of the last house, regardless of the sandy ground that had risen up and overwhelmed it. Backing up a little, Gordon edged his way around the house, his feet secure on the rocky ground that surrounded it.

Around the back, he bumped gently into a generator on wheels. Following the cables, he saw them lead to a Thumper in the middle of an incredibly bare stretch of beach. On the other side, he could just make out a low cliffside, outcroppings leading up and over it and, presumably (hopefully) to the Vortigaunt camp the rebels and Lazlo's friend had been talking about.

He pressed an experimental thumb against the only red button on the generator. It thrummed comfortingly, and Gordon watched as the Thumper came to life, metal pile driver slamming into the ground. The cloud of sand and dust made Gordon smile for some reason, and he almost skipped his way into the field of sand. With a thunderous rumble, the sand around him exploded, Antlions bursting from everywhere.

Gordon's happy skip turned into a full sprint. Breathlessly looking back, he saw the Antlions still rapidly approaching. He pointed the Gravity Gun at them, although he wasn't sure what good it would do. The Thumper slammed down, and although the thud was rather muffled to Gordon's ears, it obviously did something rather unpleasant to the Antlions, all of whom backed off quickly.

Smiling, Gordon cocked a 'Do you see what you get when you mess me?' eyebrow before turning and heading for the cliffside. It seemed like it was within the radius of the Thumper, so he figured the Antlions wouldn't bother him. Still, caution was probably the best way forward, so he ran to the outcroppings, practically scrambling his way up before stumbling over the top and down onto the other side.

He was in what was once probably a lake, barrels and crates littered all around. Tall rock spires reached jaggedly up for the sky. Gordon clambered down as best he could, the Gravity Gun knocking around awkwardly as he jumped to the sand below.

No rumblings. That was good.

"Still…" he murmured, bringing the Gravity Gun up in front of him. Slowly, he made his way forward, heading deeper into the shallow canyon that had been carved out by the now absent water.

He made his way around the first tall rock outcropping, when something made a distinct 'puff' noise behind him. Turning, Gordon pointed the Gravity Gun at the Antlion he expected to see.

The huge thing that clambered out was not an Antlion. It looked more like a scaly green and brown horse, except with no eyes and dozens of little nerve endings sticking out all along the spine. Somehow, with no face to speak of, it still managed to look angry at Gordon.

Or maybe that was the way it swung its head down and knocked him aside like a football. That might have been it.

Gordon flew through the air, thankfully coming to a soft touchdown on the sand much further down the 'river'. More sand exploded up around him, and regular sized Antlions clambered out. Gravity Gun at the ready, Gordon blasted away at them, the bolts of energy only succeeding in knocking them onto their backs. They seemed to struggle with that change of events, however, legs kicking and scrabbling around in the air as they attempted to right themselves.

Not one to waste an opportunity when the mother of all Antlions was bearing down on him, Gordon practically tripped over himself turning and running further into the canyon. Except it ended not far in front of him, with the river opening up into a circular area that yielded no obvious way out.

Except, that is, for the bunker that seemed to have been built into the cliffside. That seemed like a way out. A thick metal white door on the ground level seemed to be the best way forward, but the mounted machinegun on the level above something deterred him.

It was poking out of the barest of slits in a metal covering, and seemed to be wiggling in his direction, no doubt trying to ascertain whether he was friend or foe. Something big, roaring and angry slammed into Gordon again, tossing him through the air until he slammed into a rocky pillar shooting up out of the ground. His HEV suit warned of an impact, to which Gordon's response was a muttered 'No shit'.

The Antlion queen (at least, Gordon assumed it was a queen, that would make sense for big insects, right?) charged him again, and Gordon rolled out of the way, letting the beast's head collide with the rock formation. It did more than that, however, toppling the tower until it crashed to the ground and kicked up another cloud of sand.

As if it was needed. More Antlions came out of the ground around him, slashing and biting at his steadily draining suit. Gordon blasted some away and managed to hop over the mob of insects that surrounded him. The queen swatted him in the back again, this time sending the glasses flying from his face as he himself bounced into the air, tumbling down onto a collection of hard and jagged rocks.

The sound from the HEV suit was cutting in and out, the stats before his eyes flickering. Machinegun fire sounded, and Gordon hoped to God they were firing at the monster. Then he heard something else. A kind of chanting that seemed more like a low hum than anything else. Bringing his blurred vision forward, Gordon managed to eschew himself into a sitting position on the rocks, rolling off as he watched the smudgy battle unfold.

Whatever the blur was, it was human-shaped. And brown. Suddenly, whatever it was threw its hands forward, green electricity bounding out and striking the queen dead centre. With a moaning grunt, it stumbled back. More bullets pounded into its body, and what Gordon realised was a Vortigaunt charged another blast.

This one killed the beast, sending it stumbling around for a few moments before whimpering to the ground pathetically. Gordon would have felt sorry for it, but he was sure he had struck his head on the rocks and thought he had a concussion. Although without the HEV suit to helpfully tell him and sort it out…

The other Antlions either retreated or where killed by the machinegun. As the weapons-fire crackled through the air, the Vortigaunt bounded over him. A blurry brown hand was thrust in front of him, and he found his glasses waiting for him in the spindly palm. He gratefully took them, although the air was officially gone from his lungs, preventing him from vocalising a simple 'thank you'.

Unaware or uncaring of his condition, the Vortigaunt gestured for him to come along.

"The Freeman must follow," he growled.

With that, it set off, leaving Gordon sat on the ground. It stopped for a moment, and then returned slowly.

"The Freeman will do wise to heed our extraction of the Myrmidon's aromatic Pheropods," it said, as though that was enough to make him fight past the pain.

Well, it wasn't.

Gordon nodded breathlessly. "Just… give me a minute…"

A red eye came into few, concern wrought on the Vortigaunt's features. "Is the Freeman… damaged?"

It sounded positively aghast at the notion.

A sigh escaped his lips in-between all the panting. "The suit…"

"Ah." The Vortigaunt stood back, extending a hand forward, palm open. "If the Freeman would remain still."

Gordon did as he was told, and a gentle bolt of blue energy… well, it didn't quite strike him as much as it faded into existence between them. His HEV suit groaned appreciatively, beeps and voices sounding off far too quickly for him to keep track of. He watched as the power rating went up, reaching just above 50% before it began to slow.

The energy stopped, and the Vortigaunt stretched it's face into what Gordon guessed was a smile. "That is all this one can spare."

The HEV suit did its work quickly; Gordon was feeling better already. Smiling, he tentatively got to his feet. He still felt a little bit shaky, and decided it was best not to push it.

"Thank you."

His gratitude was waved away. "The Freeman has done far more in the service of Vortikind."

Gordon frowned. "Yes, uh… about that…"

"Now," the alien announced, clapping its hands together. "The Myrmidon's aromatic Pheropods," it continued, walking to the dead body of the Antlion Queen. "The process is not entirely hygienic. Therefore, stand aside."

He did as he was told. It was nice to be taken care of in such a way. Usually it was just 'Gordon, go there and do that' and people would just leave him to it, as though he knew exactly what the hell they were talking about and would be able to pull it off in record time.

Although he did do that, it wasn't deliberate. Half the time he wasn't aware he had accomplished something until after the fact.

His attention was brought quickly back to the Vortigaunt as it blasted into the Antlion Queen, a quite frankly disgusting spray of green blood and internal organs tumbling through the air.

The Vort waited for a moment before squatting down and reaching into the creature's innards. Gordon closed his eyes at the squelching. When he dared to open one of his eyes, he found the Vortigaunt standing in front of him, a fleshy coloured bulb about the size of softball clutched in its blood soaked hand.

Grinning, the Vortigaunt gestured for him to take the… whatever it was. Pheropod, that was it.

Wait, Pheropod? As in pheromones?

He wanted the Antlions to leave him alone, not start lusting after him. Somewhere he could hear Barney laughing just at the thought. Trying not to wrinkle his nose too much, Gordon plucked the Pheropod from the Vortigaunt's spindly grasp.

"Thank… you…"

The Vort bowed its head modestly. Oh sure, it was easy to be modest when you had just handed over some alien monster's sex organ. It wasn't so easy being the guy still holding said organ. His newfound companion bounded away into the base, and Gordon slowly followed, gently shaking goo from the Pheropod as he went.

The whole base was basically a very tall cave, a 'corridor' leading him into a wide open space where makeshift shelters had been built out of nothing more than sheets of corrugated iron and planks of wood. Inside, old mattresses had been lined up where only a few rebels were sleeping. Most looked like civilians. This was probably one of many stops for innocent people just looking for a way to escape from the city.

He tried his best not to disturb them as he followed the Vortigaunt up a slope and past two more Vorts, both whom stared at him, dumbstruck. Gordon smiled weakly and did a little wave, which they replicated perfectly. It would have been funny if Gordon's hand wasn't dripping in alien goo.

A civilian (seemingly the only one awake in the base beside the unseen gunner, wherever the hell he was) waited for him in front of a fenced off cliff. Wooden panels blocked Gordon's view of what was below, but the man spoke and got his attention anyway.

"Get going, Doctor Freeman. Nova Prospekt is just ahead. One man alone wouldn't stand much chance going in there, but a man with a pack of Antlions… well, that's a different story."

He nodded to the Pheropod in Gordon's hand as he spoke, and the scientist looked at it a little more closely. It felt like a stress ball with something decidedly solid in the centre, and resembled an onion, just with little… well, he supposed 'feelers' was the most accurate term. They were all over the thing.

Ahead of him, his guide waved him over to a gate that would take him down to whatever the fence was stopping him from seeing. He followed the Vort through and down a pathway before ending up in a deep cavern lit by strung up lights above their heads. A large crater of a pit lay in front of Gordon, two empty paint pots strewn about. On a thick wooden post on his right, a Combine body hung limply. Gordon hoped it was just a mannequin.

"The Freeman will now be instructed in the use of Pheropods. Attend now, and learn to shepherd Antlions with the so-called 'Bug Bait'."

'Bug Bait'. Right. That was what Lazlo's friend called it. Gordon regretted that he hadn't thought to ask the man his name.

"The Freeman will now break out his Pheropod, and toss it into yonder pit."

Gordon held it up. "The… whole thing?"

"Indeed."

"But what if I need it again?"

"Then the Freeman will be forced to retrieve it."

"Retrieve it?"

"Indeed."

He looked around for support of his point of view. "But… what if I'm being shot at?" This wasn't sounding especially practical.

The Vortigaunt thought on it for a moment. "Retrieve it carefully."

He stared into his companion's red eyes for a moment before shaking his head. "Right. Sure."

Feeling a little despondent over the whole thing, Gordon tossed the Pheropod into the pit. With a fizzling squeaking noise, a cloud of brown gas rose up from the pod, tiny yellow spores drifting around and upwards. From somewhere deep into the cave, he heard Antlions digging themselves out of the ground, quickly followed by the pitter-patter of deadly flesh-tearing feet.

But instead of buzzing over to him and ripping him to pieces, they simply trotted into the pit and waited patiently by the paint pots.

Impressed, Gordon looked to the Vortigaunt, who smiled and nodded.

"The Freeman can also coax his Antlions to attack specific targets." With a grand gesture, he indicated the post with the Combine body. "Observe the training mannequin and mark it well with the Pheropod."

An eyebrow shot up behind his glasses. "With the-" He looked to the pit, where the Pheropod lay between the two Antlions.

"The Freeman need not fear," the Vort said dismissively. "Holding the Pheropod has coated you with enough of the Myrmidon's scent to make you… acceptable to them, even revered."

He sighed. "They think I'm their mother, don't they?"

"If the Freeman prefers that explanation."

No. The Freeman really did not. But, needs must…

He jiggled his shoulders about to loosen himself up before slowly edging into the pit and to the Pheropod. The Antlions just stared curiously at him as he picked up the pod achingly slowly and backed out of the pit.

Gordon let out a breath, and looked back to the Vort. "So just… throw it?"

"Indeed."

He did so, and the same brown cloud drifted up. The Antlions were upon the mannequin instantly, their claws tearing stuffed limbs from the body.

In the closest approximation of a grin it could manage, the Vortigaunt said, "The Freeman excels at all things."

Feeling decidedly unimpressed with himself, Gordon just stared apprehensively at the mannequin, which bore little resemblance to a human body anymore. The Vort was off again, and Gordon dipped in to pick up the pod, surprising himself with how easily he adapted to the idea of the Antlions as allies. Then again, it was much the same as his initial reaction to the Vortigaunts.

His tour guide took him to a wooden barrier made up of two thick wooden logs suspended from the ceiling by a thick cable. Following it, he found it led back to where he had spoken to the rebel before, hooked up to a cable tower.

"Now, attend well," the Vort grumbled. "Apply pressure to your Pheropod to signal the Antlions in your command to follow you."

Gordon gave it a squeeze, expecting a spurt of alien liquid stuff to jump out at his face. Surprisingly, it just made a grumbling squishy noise. Not too bad, he supposed. The Antlions scuttled eagerly up to him, skidding to a halt at his feet in their excitement.

"The Freeman once again shows his excellence in all tasks. And now, this one must bid the Freeman farewell. Nova Prospekt lies just beyond," he said, waving to the wooden barrier. "Remember well what you have learned here. The Eli Vance has greatest confidence in you."

That last part sounded (and looked) like a prayer, the Vortigaunt planting its spindly hands together and bowing its head.

"Thank you."

Its head shot up at Gordon's words, and it smiled gratefully before waving to the rebel by the cable pulley. With a mechanical grunt, the cable started moving, lifting the logs up above their heads. After another nod to the Vort, Gordon went on his way.

As he made his way through the cave, the gentle scuttling of more Antlions approached from around a corner up ahead, and Gordon tensed. However, as they rushed up to meet him, they simply ran around behind him and formed… well, not an orderly line, but at least a quiet huddle. Aside from the occasional idle croak or flutter of their wings, they didn't do much of anything except wait for him to move.

Nodding, Gordon treaded on around the corner, coming out along a darkened coast. With a frown, Gordon looked back to the cave. Had he been in there that long? The sun had been setting when he arrived, sure, but still…

The Antlions stared at him questioningly.

He sighed. "Right. Sorry."

And now he was apologising to Antlions. Wonderful. As they moved on, a Thumper lay in their path along the beach. Thinking nothing of it, Gordon walked by until he heard the screech of the Antlions, unable to pass by the device.

"Oh, yeah."

Gordon found a ladder leading up to the small platform like he had at the docks earlier that day. Clambering up, he switched it off, and a small alarm sounded for a few moments before the Thumper died. In the distance, he heard that same dulled female voice droning on.

"Priority warning. Perimeter restrictors disengaged."

And here came the fun. Ignoring whatever else the voice was blathering on about, Gordon slid down the ladder with an ease that surprised him and led his 'team' further onto the beach.

He came across another Thumper further down the coastline, and deactivated that one too. This time, the woman was silent, replaced instead by the warble and squawk of Combine radios. He slid down the ladder with a little less grace this time, almost falling off halfway down as a bullet panged loudly against his head. Gordon only now realised he had no guns, and yanked around the Gravity Gun. Although what the hell that would do, he had no idea.

Scrambling around the Thumper as more bullets sparked against it, Gordon was busy looking for something to throw at them with the Gravity Gun when the Antlions launched themselves forward at the soldiers. Gordon didn't see much, but from what he could hear, the Combine were less than happy to see them. A few gunshots, grunts and flat-lines later, Gordon poked his head around to see the Antlions bunched around the dead bodies, waiting patiently for their mommy.

Once more impressed, Gordon smiled and made his way over to them, scooping up an MP7 from one of the soldiers. The coastline became rockier as they went along, and Gordon found his view of the next patch of land blocked by a wall of rock. Back against it, he sidled around and took a look. High powered bullets sent chunk of stone and dust up into his face, and Gordon stumbled back, falling flat on his rear. The Antlions just watched him curiously.

There was a bunker at the top of the slope, a small slit of a window allowing soldiers to poke their mounted guns through. A Thumper pounded away in the middle of Gordon's path, which, naturally, would put him completely in the line of fire of the bunker.

Sighing, Gordon launched himself out into the open, being careful not to clutch the Pheropod in his hand too tightly. He didn't need to be tripping over Antlions right now. Something occurred to him as he reached the Thumper and ducked down behind it. With a sigh, Gordon looked up. From the top of the ladder he would have a pretty good chance of throwing the thing and actually getting it to the bunker. Hopefully there would be an entrance that the Antlions could get through, and… voila. No more soldiers.

Clambering up (and trying his best to ignore the bullets), Gordon ducked down for a few moments before standing and letting off an aimless barrage from his MP7. Content that they weren't going to be shooting him at least for second or two, Gordon gave the pod his best throw. He couldn't even tell where it went.

He slammed a hand down on the button in front of him, and the Thumper silently deactivated. The bunker opened fire again, and Gordon ducked down. He heard Antlions buzzing overhead.

A few moments later, the firing stopped. Another few seconds, and he heard a Combine yell something decidedly uncomplimentary to Antlions and their relations before his garbled voice was replaced by a flat-line.

Gordon smiled in disbelief. Antlions. Who would've thought it?

The Combine's intimidating presence was diminished somewhat when you had an army of vicious killers following you around. With little effort on his part, Gordon managed to clamber and run his way past armed bunkers and through complex tunnels and along crevices before finally finding himself hiding behind a rock on a long, sloping field. A cliff-face on his left towered above him, and further along he could see walkways and ladders grafted on, leading to the top. Large, thick pipes jutted out of the rock face, rusted metal bars making them seem more sinister than they were.

He guessed they were from Nova Prospekt. Or at least, he hoped so. As much as having Antlions slashing their way through Combine soldiers was easy, there was always a lingering paranoia in Gordon's mind that the Antlions would run out, or wouldn't be able to get to him in time. Or they might notice that he in no conceivable way resembled their mother.

Machinegun fire died down, and an Antlion poked its head around Gordon's cover, clicking curiously. He nodded wearily and hefted himself to his feet, Pheropod in one hand and MP7 in the other. Walking past the thick drainage pipe in the rock face, Gordon found a cliff-side path, the darkened waters below seeming all the more ominous from the moonlight bouncing off them as they crashed against the rocks below.

The path wound its way around before taking him up and to an open sewage pipe. He walked straight into it, and had to throw himself forward to avoid the rabid zombie firing out at him from the darkness. It flew overhead, and skidded to a halt at the mouth of the tunnel. Cursing himself for getting to so complacent, Gordon scrambled to his feet, the shallow water beneath him rendering the MP7 drowned and useless.

Just as he started to worry that he might not be able to yank his crowbar out in time, an Antlion claw speared the roaring zombie through the chest. It looked down at the green appendage before being tossed out of the tunnel and off the cliff behind it. And Antlion poked its head around, and Gordon couldn't help but smile. It was like they were seeking approval. Perversely, it seemed more genuine than some of the hero-worshipping rebels he had come across today.

Trudging through the network of fairly spacious tunnels (although after all the air vents he had squeezed himself through, a cardboard box would seem sparse), Gordon could see up into the courtyard of Nova Prospekt through thickly interwoven grates. With each one he passed by, he noted one more watchtower, each one with four manned guns.

He made his way into the pool of water at the end of the tunnels, putting him out in the open air again. A ladder on the far side took him up and into the courtyard.

Silence.

Radios grumbled.

Guns clicked.

Spotlights flashed.

Alarms sounded.

Gordon sighed.

The One Free Man, running haphazardly for his life. Again. He looked to the Antlions, who were already on their way to the soldiers on the watchtower walkways.

"Might as well get on with it…" he said to no-one, slipping out his crowbar and darting off the grassy verge and up onto the main area of the courtyard. His boots crunched on dried grass and ancient broken bottles as a familiar roar filled the air.

Ah, Gunship. How I have missed you.

A 'corridor' on the far building had been set up out of military green canopy, metal ammo crates giving Gordon his best bet of getting out… into this place alive.

He shook his head as he ran. Breaking into a prison. He was glad there was a beautiful girl involved somewhere in the equation, so he would have some excuse when explaining this to his therapist in a few years time.

'Beautiful girl'? Where had that come from?

Gordon tossed himself over the wall of crates that had been set up as cover, rudely interrupting two soldiers who were in the middle of the stocking up ammo.

"Hi."

He was sure he heard a sigh from one of the soldiers just before Gordon conked him around the back of the head with his crowbar. The other at least attempted an attack, which Gordon sidestepped and was about to counter when an Antlion flew up into the soldier's face, knocking him onto his back and making quick work of him. Gordon was grateful. The fight would have gone on far too long, and he didn't have the time to waste at the moment.

A rocket launcher caught his eye as the thudding blades of the Gunship chopped through the air. He frowned. They sounded different. Sidling up to the cover afforded by the ammo crates, Gordon got a view of the sky. A gunship flew past.

Then another one.

"Oh good. There's two." He looked down at the Antlion, which stared back up at him adoringly.

"Did you know there were two? If it turns out you did, I'll be annoyed."

The Antlion clicked, and then flew away, on the scent of something else. Good thing, too; Gordon was starting to talk to alien wildlife, which really wasn't on his list of things to do with his day. Of course, neither was breaking into a highly guarded prison, but that was neither here nor there.

He tossed the rocket launcher to the ground. There wasn't much chance of him taking down two gunships, and the launcher would just be extra weight he didn't need. The Gravity Gun alone was beginning to chafe on him. Figuratively speaking, of course.

A small office made up the corner of the wall that Gordon was approaching, bland yellowy light spilling out of the windows onto the courtyard. Combine radios squawked and mumbled from within. Gordon scooped up the rocket launcher again and jammed a rocket into the front. Keeping an eye on the skies, he ran out into the courtyard, whirling the rocket launcher around as he went. The two soldiers inside the office had only just noticed his presence before the rocket blasted inside and exploded, glass and office supplies tossed aside like so much dust.

Gordon threw the launcher away as a gunship roared above him, and he started a long sprint down the pathway ahead of him. A turning to the left presented itself, as well as another office a storey above him. As Gordon rounded the corner, two soldiers appeared in the windows, taking whatever shots they could manage as they yelled angrily into their radios.

Gunship fire thudded into the ground behind him, sending chunks of cement and grit into the air. Three jabs of hot pain slammed into his back, hitting his right leg and spreading up to the small of his back. Crying out, Gordon tumbled, rolling along the ground until he collided with the wall at the end of the alleyway.

Looking around, he found an overturned dumpster on the other side of the courtyard. He limped his way over there, keeping his head down as the soldiers still fired their irritating bullets in his general direction. The gunship was circling around, waiting patiently for another pass.

The other gunship came into view over the building, roaring its approval at having seen him. Gordon ducked inside the dumpster as it fired, the heavy bullets leaving dents the size of fists in the metal dumpster. It wasn't going to last long.

With a vicious hiss, Gordon heard the Combine radios suddenly cut out, followed by the familiar buzz of Antlion wings as they went onto their next target. Explosions sounded in the distance. At least they weren't all focused on him. It reminded him of Black Mesa, charging across helicopter landing pads while soldiers and aliens the size of rhinos exchanged fire and blood.

He blinked as one of the gunship bullets smacked into the concrete in front of him, the dust making his eyes tear up. The fire seemed to stop for a moment, so Gordon dared a quick peek out. Both gunships were circling around. Gordon dashed out and took stock of his surroundings. Stairs behind the dumpster led up to another level, which in turn led to the office the now-deceased soldiers had been firing from. And, interestingly, a sizeable hole in the wall, presumably from some of the explosives the soldiers had been throwing around at the Antlions.

The wobbling light from flames flickered from inside, but Gordon wasn't particularly fussed. Fire, the HEV suit could deal with. Gunship bullets…

Both ships roared, and Gordon started running, the faux-morphine of his suit not quite reaching the limp in his leg just yet. More bullets sent clouds of dust and chunks of wall blasting into him, but Gordon just ducked his head and soldiered on, taking one more shot in the shoulder before managing to collapse into the hole. He managed to push himself inside the building with only his legs, cradling his injured right shoulder as he went. The HEV suit blathered on about damage, but Gordon tuned it out. It probably wasn't the best idea, but he really was getting sick of the woman's voice.

A complicated web of thick and thin pipes weaved in front of him, the fire he had spotted from outside just in front of him. Gas hissed menacingly, fuelling the flames. The red paint of a pressure valve attracted his eye, and Gordon grabbed on, twisting it for all it was worth. A few grunts later, and the fire was out.

Gordon continued on, the crowbar in his hand tapping against the pipes as he negotiated his way through them. He frowned and looked down at the offending weapon. He didn't remember taking out the crowbar.

Sighing at the fact that a quiet, meek little scientist now had a crowbar reflex after only a few days, Gordon worked his way through some curiously low-tech doors and corridors. The Combine probably didn't see the point in that much security inside the prison. After all, who would be stupid and/or insane enough to try and break in to Nova Prospekt? They would have to be a complete lunatic. Crazy. Nutso. Absolutely off his rocker.

Gordon opened another door, revealing the eerie pale blue halls of Nova Prospekt.

He stepped through.


(A/N: And once again, I find the character interaction stuff the most fun. Gordon and the Vortigaunt was great to write. Although Gordon versus the Gunship at the lighthouse was pretty neat, I think.

Anyway, thanks for all the review! Please keep them coming!

Next Chapter: Nova Prospekt)