Twenty Years Late

by A Very Thirsty Megalomaniac

It's hard for the Ethereals to invade when someone else got there first.

5. A Black Mesa Welcome

Barney's head pounded. His mouth felt fuzzy and dry. The damn thing in the sack grew heavier by the second. And the air outside buzzed with more scanners than he had ever seen in his life. Hope the doc's got the lab wrapped up tight. Barney paused. Well, okay. I hope Alyx has got the lab wrapped up tight. Dr. Kleiner had been so absorbed by the damn teleport that he sometimes forgot to eat, sleep, or bathe. Barney half-suspected his own find would still be eclipsed by the upcoming completion of that damn project. And it better work this time…

Dragging the sack behind him, Barney limped down the stairs, every inch of him feeling sore. His vision ached from the lack of sleep. He hung a left and sighed in relief. The vending machine looked undisturbed, and he had never been happier to see it. Fumbling in his pockets, he pulled out a coin and slotted it in place. Squinting, he made his order. Two, seven, five, six, five, two. Like it makes a difference, Breen, it's all water! He hit the side of the vending machine a little harder than usual. The door opened silently.

"Hey doc!" he bellowed, grunting as he pulled the sack in from behind him. "I'm home!"

"Barney! Oh my God." To Barney's total lack of surprise, Alyx was the first to rush over, her forehead wrinkled by a very genuine and sudden concern. "Were you in a fire? We thought you were…"

"Barney!" Dr. Kleiner emerged from the hidden sliding door at the opposite end of the room, finger already raised to wag. "Good grief, we've been waiting for you to check in for hours! Alyx was poised to go looking for you, and we were beginning to suspect…" Dr. Kleiner paused, just noticing the sack Barney was dragging behind him. The vending machine door behind them shut with a clunk. "Barney, ah, what exactly are you…?"

"Present for ya, doc." With a flourish, Barney whipped the sack around and upended it. E.T. fell out in a cluster of tangled purple limbs, looking more like a doll of an alien than anything else … were it not for the green holes in its torso. Barney flung the sack aside with a sigh, head still pounding. "Doc, I need a beer."

"Barney?" Dr. Kleiner stared down at the body in muffled shock, one hand reaching to adjust his glasses. "Oh dear. What have you done?"

"Is that…?" Alyx prodded it gently with her foot. Then again, harder. The creature made a strange fleshy sound. "Ugh. It's real. I've never seen this species before. Some new kind of synth?"

"Nah," called back Barney, heading to the corner where the fridge resided. He pulled the door open with a grunt, then reached inside for the second-to-last bottle. Looks like Alyx has been at them again. Swear I had three this morning. "That thing shot up two CP teams and wrecked an entire city block. Pretty sure it mind-controlled a guy, too. I was the last man standing. Figured I'd bring it back." Barney returned to Alyx and Kleiner's side at the corpse, popping off the cap with a gloved thumb. "By the way, I abandoned my cover. It was that or start answering the Combine's questions on a one-on-one basis."

"So … this is not the Combine?" Kleiner adjusted his glasses again. "Fascinating … if I didn't know better, I would say the old Roswell sighting weren't a load of hogwash after all! Only … between Black Mesa and the Seven Hour War … we're a little crowded on aliens. Surely this cannot be a third invasion?"

"Roswell?" Alyx raised an eyebrow. "So, there were alien sightings before Black Mesa?"

"Plenty," said Barney, remembering. He'd owned a few books on the subject, back in the day. If Black Mesa and the Seven Hour War had done anything, other than ruin his life, it was vindicate a lot of his beliefs. "None confirmed, though. But the idea of bug-eyed aliens with gray skin, flying around in saucers and probing people – it matches up with this little bastard."

"The existence of aliens like this one used to be the domain of madmen and conspiracy theorists," said Dr. Kleiner, giving Barney a meaningful glance. Barney just took a sip of beer. "This, hrm, creature, matches up what the pre-Combine western public would have thought an alien looked like. Needless to say, that is no longer the case, given that we live in a world of vortigaunts and the Combine."

"Sounds like these guys might have visited before." Alyx crouched down and turned the creature over. Its half-opened eyes stared lifelessly up at the ceiling. "Ugh. Smells like bleach. It shot up an entire city block?"

"It's the reason the Citadel's on alert," replied Barney, gesturing up at the shuttered windows on the upper level with his beer. "Took out two CP teams. Had some kind of energy weapon, but the body wasn't holding anything. Sure as shit would have liked to get my hands on whatever he was packing." Barney looked over to Kleiner, who still kept a slight distance from the body. "So, doc, figured we might wanna crack this thing open, see what we can learn?"

"What?" Dr. Kleiner took another step back. "I – oh my. Biology, and certainly not xenobiology, is not my forte. As a physicist, I don't know how … digging through that creature's internal organs … would enlighten me." Kleiner frowned. "Alyx, my dear, is Moira still working at Black Mesa East?"

"Dr. Vahlen?" Alyx broke into a grin. "Oh, yeah. You should see her and the vortigaunts go at it. Never seen anyone get them riled up like that. Yeah, she was still there when I left. Are you thinking…" Alyx looked down at the creature. "Hmm. Yeah, she'd love to see this."

"Great." Barney took another sip of beer. "So, we just gotta pack this thing up and ship it downriver. Feeling up to it, Alyx?"

Alyx opened her mouth, but Dr. Kleiner broke in with a clucking sound.

"No! No. We are too close to completion of the teleport! I need Alyx here to acquire what is left of the required materials and make sure the device maintains full integrity. Barney, I simply cannot spare her."

"Well…" Barney shut his eyes, head pounding. He took another sip of beer. "Hell, maybe someone from the Railroad can take it? I can get it to them and they can take the airboat…?"

Silence greeted his words. The two of them looked at him meaningfully. Barney swirled the beer in the half-empty bottle.

"Aw, hell."

"We could always just wait until the teleport is finished, doc," said Alyx, but Kleiner shook his head.

"My dear, that could take another week at least. By then, who knows what state of decomposition it will be in?" Kleiner sniffed. "Unless … the body is small. We could stuff it in the refrigerator to slow the proc-"

Alyx clamped her hands over her face. "God, no."

"It's fine, doc. I'll take the damn thing." Barney resisted the urge to kick the dead alien in its smug, smooth little bastard face. "Not like I'll have anything else to do, now that CP thinks I'm dead. I should still have clearance for a little while, 'til they upgrade the records. I shouldn't have too much trouble getting out of the city."

"You think you'll be okay?" asked Alyx, resting a hand on his shoulder. Barney gave her a little smile.

"Yeah. Gimme a few hours of sleep, another one of these," Barney wiggled the beer bottle, "and I'll be good to go." He sniffed. "Eh, maybe a shower too, while I'm at it."

"All right." Alyx removed her hand. "Doc, I've gotta pick a few more things up for the shopping list. Now that Barney's back, I guess I'll head out."

"Yes," said Kleiner absentmindedly, shuffling back and forth as he stared down at the crumpled body on the floor. "Yes, I suppose so. In the meantime, I'll just … put this in the back room." He glanced up at Barney, nose and forehead wrinkling. "Go get some sleep. I'll wake you when it's dark, and radio Eli the situation."

"Yeah, figure he'll want to hear about this." Barney downed the rest of the bottle and stretched, bones cracking. "I'll be in the back."

As he stumbled off, he heard Doctor Kleiner grunt and lift the creature from the floor.

"Fascinating," Kleiner mumbled. "In all this excitement over the extra-dimensional, we forgot about the possibility of the extra-terrestrial. This gives rise to a whole host of new questions … and possibilities!"

Man. If Black Mesa can't kill that guy's thought processes, I guess nothing will. Barney retreated into the back corner of the lab, underneath the upstairs balcony. It wasn't quite dark, but it would have to do. He fumbled for the sleeping bag and unrolled it. He though it would be difficult to sleep in his full metrocop getup, but it really wasn't. A soft dark settled in quickly, and he fell quite asleep.

His dreams were electric and green. A man stepped purposefully through it all, ignored by the distant silhouettes of E.T. and the Combine soldiers alike, a briefcase in his hand. He looked familiar, somehow. Two shadows stood behind him at either shoulder, both of them in some kind of armor, one orange and the other green. With a gesture, the green one on his right vanished, fading away in a shimmer of emerald. The other remained. Barney's breathing became heavy. His heart began to pound. For some reason, and he could not define why, he did not want that man near him. But of course, he drew nearer.

"Wake up, Mr. Calhoun." The gentleman with the briefcase leaned in, suddenly somehow much closer to Barney than he had been a few seconds before. "I have a message for Dr. Vance."

Barney opened his mouth to speak, but could only suck in a deep breath. The gentleman smiled. His mouth opened, but the words were swallowed up by the roar of a strider. Gunfire and bright green energy lit up the night, and the gentleman stood and smiled. He straightened his tie.

"That will do, I think." His bright green eyes locked with Barney's. "No further comment."

"Barney. Barney!"

Barney awoke with a start, his back aching. Dr. Kleiner stood over him, a clipboard in hand.

"Barney, Eli is on the line. He wants to speak to you."

"How long I been out?" asked Barney, standing and rubbing his head.

"Seven hours. Just enough time to conquer the world." Dr. Kleiner smiled, but his mind was clearly elsewhere. He gestured with his clipboard to the other room. The hidden door was open. "Do hurry. I would prefer to get that … thing … out of the city and away from the Combine as soon as possible."

"Yeah," said Barney, stretching again and shambling off into the other room. "Headcrabs are fine, but poor E.T.?"

Eli Vance's face stared out from the monitor directly ahead of Barney. Eli gave a warm grin upon seeing Barney, something that never failed to make him feel better.

"Barney! It's good to see you in one piece. I heard you had a run-in with some unfriendly visitors?"

"Yeah, it's the newest wave of aliens here to harvest our oceans, doc." Barney pulled up a chair and sat before the monitor, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "I tried to get Kleiner to dissect it, but he told me dammit, Barney, I'm a physicist, not a doctor."

"A common refrain," replied Eli, chuckling. "We all have our specialties. Izzy said our new friend opened fire on the Combine?"

"Damn right he did. Totaled an entire block with some kind of energy weapon."

"Interesting." Eli rubbed the hair on his chin. "The vortigaunts said something had arrived on our planet. Touched down on the coast, even. We've been trying to raise NLO and Shore Point, but got no response. Between that and what you've found … it might be best if we gathered as much information as possible."

Something itched in the back of Barney's mind. He tried to dismiss it.

"Do you think you can make the journey?" asked Eli, concern etched into his tone. "If we could spare Alyx, we would. But we're so damn close to our breakthrough here."

"Sure, I can make the journey," said Barney, trying not to make a big deal out of it. "Few bends up and down the canals, and I'll be home free. Right?"

"Just a few bends," agreed Eli, but Barney could sense (and appreciate) the worry. "We'll set up some quarters for you. Keep the tea hot. And I'll let Moira know she's got something new to work with. Maybe keep her busy and away from the Ravenholm tunnel. She's convinced she can still do something for the poor souls up there."

Only cure for what ails those bastards is bullets. But Barney held his tongue. Eli was one of a handful of people who deserved it.

"I'll head on down. Expect me." Barney paused, thinking. The itch grew stronger. "I … swear I had something to say to you, doc. But it isn't coming."

"Well, if it can wait, you can tell it to me in person." Eli smiled again. "No luck?"

"Can't remember." Barney shrugged. "Ah, well. First thing to go is memory. Can't remember the second thing. I'll see you soon."

"See you soon. I'll be praying for you." Eli's face winked out in a flutter of static. Barney sighed and wandered back out into the main lab. Dr. Kleiner looked up from his clipboard pointed to the closet in the back of the room.

"In there. Put it in a spare body bag. Water-proof, you know." He held up a finger. "Perhaps it might be prudent to take the HEV suit? If you run into trouble…?"

"Doc, if I wear that thing, I am guaranteed to run into trouble." Barney punched in the three digit code to the shuttered closet door. It opened with a rustle of metal. "It's bright orange. Way I see it, I stick to civvies, at least I won't be picked out at a distance. And I intend to keep a-" Barney stopped. The body bag lay half-opened in a corner. E.T.'s head would have been exposed … if a headcrab did not currently perch atop it.

"Hey!" Barney stepped forward and waved his arms, only to scream as the headcrab launched itself forward. Its rubbery limbs gripped his face, and Barney flung it aside. "Goddammit, not this shit again!"

The headcrab landed with a muffled thud. It gave an indignant cry before leaping forward again, this time up to the balcony. An old monitor sitting atop a crate wobbled precariously as the headcrab climbed up next to it.

"Lamarr? What were you doing back there?" Dr. Kleiner lowered his clipboard and ventured forward, entirely unconcerned with Barney's wellbeing. "Was she-"

"Trying to head hump E.T.!" Barney wiped his face clean of headcrab gunge. "Ugh. When are you going to get rid of that thing, doc? It's, it's contaminating the specimens!"

"She is debeaked and completely harmless, more so even than a common housecat." Dr. Kleiner folded his arms. "I do not recall you having any problems when we kept a cat here."

Barney shivered. "Don't remind me. And I wasn't thrilled about the cat either."

The headcrab stared down at the two of them, making soft cooing sounds. Dr. Kleiner patted the top of his bald head, and the headcrab jumped down, colliding with Kleiner's head with a soft squish. The scientist gave a soft "hmph" of condescending triumph before returning to his clipboard, his "pet" still trying fruitlessly to couple with its owner's head.

"Not gonna miss that. No headcrabs in Black Mesa East." Barney returned to the closet and zipped E.T. back up. Then he folded the body bag in half and slotted it into a waiting backpack. It left precious little room for anything else. Gonna have to make this a quick trip.

Barney hefted the backpack and began searching the shelves for portable supplies he knew they could spare. Two cans of tuna went onto the pack. A can of beans. Some bottled water. And finally, returning to the fridge, the last bottle of beer. It wouldn't stay cold, but it was better than nothing.

Dr. Kleiner, headcrab still affixed to his cranium, brought out a freshly ironed citizen's outfit.

"Alyx thought you wouldn't want the HEV suit," said Dr. Kleiner. Barney figured the doc would not have thought of it. "She hoped to get back before you left…"

"Probably for the best. Combine doesn't like citizens travelling in anything bigger than a group of one." Barney accepted the clothes and made back for the closet. "I'll get changed and then head out."

Nothing else jumped out at Barney this time. He left his CP uniform in a crumpled and sweaty heap, a little glad to be rid of it. The Kevlar did nothing to stop those green alien blasts, and it didn't do much against pulse slugs either. He'd take the discretion any day. Still, he couldn't help but feel a little exposed as the blue shirt settled against his chest.

Finally, the last thing; the submachine gun. That he packed into his bag after checking the safety, and hoped he wouldn't be given a reason to take it out. Gonna need more ammo for it. Hopefully that was something the Railroad could tend to.

"I'm good to go, doc." Barney stepped out a new man, just another ordinary citizen. Dr. Kleiner looked up, Lamarr's limbs still tangled about his face.

"Ah, good!" He shunted the headcrab off his head and approached Barney, hands wringing. "The Citadel is still on alert, but their attention appears to be mostly elsewhere. Alyx said that the checkpoints are being reinforced, but she could make her way around less populated areas easily. I … hope that proves helpful. Do you have everything?"

"Gun, check. Food, check. Water, check. Beer, check. Alien corpse, check." Barney flashed a thumbs up.

"Crowbar?"

Barney paused. "Eh, good idea. Guess I better grab it."

There were plenty of uses for crowbars. At least one of them was opening crates. Barney had found plenty of others. He pried the crowbar, a remnant of his eventful final day at Black Mesa, free from the crate he had left it in. Its edges were pitted, the steel tarnished, and one could make out the dried blood running up and down its length. Barney stowed it in a side pocket anyway and felt better for it.

Dr. Kleiner waited by the entrance, his pet waiting docilely at his feet. Barney did his best to ignore it. He hated it most when the damn thing acted like it was tame. It usually flung itself at Barney's head as soon as he turned his back. Nevertheless, it remained still for the moment.

"If that's everything…" Dr. Kleiner extended his hand. Barney shook it. "Do travel safely. And come back as soon as you are able. Alyx is an able assistant, but I never feel quite … secure … when you're not around."

"Just doing my job." Barney released his grip. "See ya when I see ya, doc."

He proceeded into the dark night, backpack weighing heavily against him. The door clanged shut behind him, and Barney began his journey to the streets below.

There were quite a few ways through the Railroad. Plenty of stations had been set up throughout the canals, most of which were designed as initial contact points for citizens to find. Then it was just a matter of getting sent on the right path, as it were. The hardest part was finding the first station. Barney, fortunately, knew them all by heart. Gonna want the main station. Close by.

Barney kept to the rooftops at first, knowing the streets would likely be patrolled. The Citadel remained lit up in the distance, although scanners no longer poured from it. He could hear the hoots of striders off closer to the city epicenter, while he could outright see a helicopter, headlight blazing, fly down a street only two blocks down.

And of course, the Overwatch dispatch remained a constant drone.

"Attention, please. All citizens be on notice: anomalous exogen breach detected in surrounding environs. Maintain total awareness. Cooperation with local protection teams permits full ration reward."

They're not gonna know what to look for. Barney grinned. They're in the dark, same as us. Hah! Can't say I don't like it.

Barney dropped down closer to the train tracks, near the main station. CP typically didn't patrol the tracks themselves – outside the city that was the purview of Overwatch, and inside the city there were plenty of barriers and very frequent trains – but that didn't mean he'd want to stay around the tracks for too long. Plenty of scanners in the city, and citizens were "encouraged" not to play on the tracks.

Off to the side of the tracks, a broken catwalk overlooked a mostly-drained canal down below. Barney sidled along to the catwalk, only to hear a train horn scream in the distance. He paused, waiting to use the cover of the passing train to drop down. Just to be safe. He removed his backpack and placed it over his head before letting his legs dangle over the edge. Something began to glow orange against the wall ahead. Barney raised an eyebrow.

The razor train came screaming by, but its familiar sleek hull blazed with flames. Smoking green holes rimmed the outside of several passenger cars, the insides leaking fire. Barney's eyes widened as the train continued its passage and the damage did not decrease; the entire train had been fucked. After it passed, it left an acrid smell in its wake, and a copious amount of fading smoke in the air. Barney could only stare after it, gaping. Jesus. How'd that happen?

But he'd waited too long. Keeping his backpack high above his head, he dropped into the water. He gasped at the chill but kept moving, hoping he'd have something to dry off with real quick. The backpack grew steadily heavier as he kicked his way across the shallow canal, to the opposite side where a derailed red boxcar blocked further entry.

Barney clambered up a ladder to the back of the boxcar and made sure to step hard on the roof. A gap in the roof ahead made him smile. He dropped in and hoped they had something to warm him up.

"The Barney Calhoun." A human and a vortigaunt stared at him from across the boxcar. The vortigaunt inclined his head. "The Alyx Vance sent word of your arrival. We anticipated it with great anticipation. Tell us; what prompts a retreat of such haste to City 17?"

"Good to see you, too," replied Barney, rolling his eyes. "Hey, Joe. Got a way for me to warm up?"

"Fire out back," replied the human, jerking a thumb towards the sliding door. He moved to open it, grunting as he shifted it aside. "Come on, dry off and tell us what's up. Need something to tell the other stations up ahead. You uh, you ain't running from something, are you?"

"Nah." Barney dropped out of the boxcar after Joe. The vortigaunt followed behind, making Barney's hair stand up, a little. The things still creeped him out just a bit. "Gotta bring something to Black Mesa. In the backpack. An alien body."

A small bonfire, obscured by the overhead overpass and the boxcar, roared merrily before them. Barney gladly scooted close to it, dropping the backpack and putting his hands forward.

"One of the interlopers?" asked the vortigaunt. The look Joe gave the alien made Barney suspect they had not discussed this. "Their intentions remain obfuscated. We would urge extreme caution in lieu of perhaps misplaced trust."

"How much you guys know?" Barney stared at the vortigaunt. But it said nothing further. "Dr. Vance said they touched down on the coast, assuming what I got is part of the same force. But all I got is a body. Well, that, and I know for sure these guys aren't Combine. They shot at a CP team." Barney grimaced. "Me included."

"That's why the Combine's all riled." Joe whistled. "Takes a special kind of stupid to try and hit them in an urban center." He glanced around at Barney's bulging backpack. "Can I … get a look?"

"Don't think so. Want to keep it as intact as possible as I get it to Black Mesa." Barney yawned and stretched. "Main station's right around the corner, yeah?"

"The Barney Calhoun is correct in his assumptions." The vortigaunt brought his hands together. "May his journey to Black Mesa East be swift, and the fruits of knowledge brought forth by his discoveries ripe."

"Right." Barney shook off the last few drops of tepid canal water. Then he stood, hoisting his backpack. "Got a bit of a trek ahead of me. Wish me luck. Stay out of trouble, yeah?"

"We shall remain."

"Good luck out there!"

Barney crouched his way through the debris and detritus under the overpass, feeling a pang as the warmth of the fire faded. The boxcar slid shut behind him, and he continued forward, nose wrinkling at the smell of urban decay.

The Railroad's main station lay just ahead. Someone, a sentry most likely, whistled at his approach. A sewer grate built into a nearby wall rustled with life. A balding man in a beige shirt waved him over.

"Barney Calhoun?" The rebel gave a low whistle. "Didn't think I'd see you down here. Usually it's Alyx making the runs. What brings you this way?"

"Package for Black Mesa East." Barney reached behind and touched his backpack. "Urgent. I need that airboat, pronto."

"Shit, really? All right. Head on 'round, we got a radio."

Barney walked around the corner of the wall to find an open grate. He proceeded through and the rebel motioned him forward, whistling a tune Barney found strangely familiar. Two more rebels, a man and a woman, clad in the regular blues of a citizen's getup, sat atop filthy mattresses, only standing as they exited the tunnel.

"Calhoun? Is everything all right?"

"Making a delivery run to Black Mesa East," replied Barney, trying to keep the irritation out of his tone. You'd think I was the harbinger of doom, or something. "Alyx isn't available, so it's up to me. Can you radio ahead and let 'em know I'll need the airboat?"

"Can do." The woman, hair done up in a bun, left the mattress and walked over to a crackling radio on a table. The man, an older gentleman with slightly bulging eyes and a pistol stowed in his pocket, looked Barney up and down.

"Nice to see you out of the CP getup." He grinned and extended his hand. Barney shook it. "Hammond, stayed at the lab for a little bit before getting posted here. You know what's got the cops all riled?"

"Aliens," replied Barney. "From outer space."

Hammond sputtered a little and gave Barney an odd look. Barney only shrugged.

"If I had a better explanation, I'd give one."

"That would explain the whole "anomalous exogen breach" shit," supplied the guy from the tunnel. "What else would they call an alien attack?"

The radio crackled into life. Barney let the backpack fall gently to the floor, shoulders aching a little. The two men stared at the bulging pack with sudden suspicion.

"You, uh, you carrying a body in there."

"Afraid so. It's one of the little green men." Barney smiled at their obvious confusion. "Gotta get it to Black Mesa East for dissection."

The radio static snapped off suddenly. The lady turned around, frowning.

"They wish they'd had a little more warning, but they'll gas it up for you. You're the fourth person through today, so you might have to take a passenger or two."

"Fourth?" Barney frowned. "That's a little more than usual, isn't it?"

"The three of them came in a group together. Said they'd slipped out as a street got cracked down on by CP." The woman shrugged. "It happens, from time to time. They weren't followed. We sent them on their way. Speaking of…" She gestured to Hammond, who shrugged.

"All right, I'll take him over. Anything we need from Station 6?"

"Toilet paper," said the balding man immediately. Hammond paused and then nodded.

"Got it. I'll grab some more water bottles too, while I'm at it." He glanced to the woman. "Anything else, Lisa?"

"If they have any guns or ammo to spare, we can clear out some more barnacles. And I'd feel a lot safer." Hammond gave a thumbs up.

"All right. Let's go!"

The two of them pressed towards the far wall and up a ladder through an open manhole. They hugged a wall that led further down towards another overpass's underside, the stench of decay growing stronger yet again.

"Mind the barnacles." Hammond pointed to the underside of the overpass. Sure enough, several glistening tongues dangled from the ceiling. "And try not to slip."

As they dropped from the wall and under the overpass, something unspeakable squelched underfoot. Barney took each step carefully and deliberately. Like a penguin. Remember those? His heels still skidded a bit as he took every third step or so.

"Railroad been quiet? Apart from today, I mean."

"Not much CP activity, if that's what you mean." Hammond edged his way around a barnacle tongue. "Get a person through, every now and again. Usually it's someone just trying to make a break for it and made an educated guess about the canals. Eh … not all of them make the best guesses. We have to fish bodies out of the water every now and again."

"Yeah," said Barney, remembering some of the times he'd seen someone do a runner. Half the time CP wouldn't even shoot them at first; some of them found it entertaining to see where, exactly, they thought they could run to. Plus, it's a good way to flush out nests if they do know. Glad I was never on a team that had that thought. "Man. I try not to think about all the people I … you know."

"Could have saved?" The two of them emerged into the cool night. Another tunnel, stinking of stagnant water, beckoned them further into the canals. Broken concrete crunched underfoot. "I … I know what you mean."

Barney drew in a breath, thinking. Lauren, for one. Still thinking of you, baby. Mom and dad. Wish I'd been there with you when the portals opened. Danny. Wish you hadn't signed on, at least not when you did. Too many people at Black Mesa. And then since…

Funny, the way the shit just piled on. One less – an unspeakable tragedy. But losing everything, all at once? Surviving that just numbed everything else. Nevertheless, Barney still reached back to his pack and felt for the bottle of beer. He almost smiled when he felt the outline, hard underneath the nylon.

They didn't speak much throughout most of the journey. Frankly, much of it was spent trying not to breathe too much – the water in the canals might have receded, but the stench had not. The Overwatch Dispatch kept droning on in the background, but it was just the same looped messages about exogen breaches. The Railroad remained free from the Combine's reach for the moment, it seemed. All the while, the pack grew heavier and heavier.

The smell grew noticeably sharper and more oppressive as they crested one final storm drain and came upon a pool of sludge. Up ahead, a gun in one hand, a noticeably more ragged citizen waved them down.

"Hammond! Good to see you." The armed citizen stood by a crackling radio. Up ahead, a veritable sea of debris formed a rough tunnel into the main station beyond. If I remember right, they've built almost everything here out of random scrap. Can't say I envy the people living here. At least Black Mesa East has proper beds. "And Barney, excellent. Airboat is gassed up and ready to go at the docks. Some other citizens were kind enough to wait for you to arrive. Be sure to thank them."

"Yeah, three of 'em, right?" Barney hoisted the backpack. "Eh … any reason you're armed?"

The radio operator started. "Oh – sorry. Arlene said she saw some things, out in the water. Wasn't sure what. Thought it might be bullsquids. Thought it would be a good idea to arm up." He glanced at Hammond, then at his pistol. "Eh, hope you brought a gun, Calhoun. We don't have any to spare, and the trip might not be that safe."

"Yeah, I got mine." Barney dropped his backpack to the floor and unzipped it. "Wouldn't mind more ammo."

The radio operator gestured to a nearby crate. Barney opened it and grinned at the magazines stacked neatly on top of one another. He helped himself to three.

"No guns to spare?" asked Hammond and Barney pocketed the goods. "What about water bottles? Toilet paper?"

"We'll see what we can do." The radio operator gestured to the scrap tunnel up ahead with his gun. "Anyway, you better get going. Those gents have been waiting for a while now. Been pretty good sports about it, actually. Most folks just seem desperate to get clear of the city when they get here…"

Barney thanked the radio operator and got on his belly, gun still in hand. He crawled through the tunnel carefully, taking care to keep his head down, and trying not to dwell on just how long it had been since his last tetanus shot. Wouldn't that be a stupid way to die?

Station 6 proper reminded Barney of pictures he'd seen of the poor parts of Johannesburg, back in the day. Dirty sheets of metal propped up to form rough roofs, wooden planks placed strategically over piles of radioactive muck to permit access, mattresses and sofas packed into abandoned cargo containers to create a semblance of a living space…

"Don't know how you Railroad folks do it," said Barney as he stepped gingerly on top of a plank of wood acting as a bridge over a pool of something distinctly unpleasant. "I can handle living in a tenement, I can handle living in a lab. But hanging out in a sewer?"

"There's no better fight," replied Hammond, sweat shining on his forehead in the bright moonlight. "No better way to thumb your nose at the Combine. Every life we save … you know it's worth it."

A few citizens huddled in cargo crates with guns in their laps watched them go by with sullen eyes. Barney got the impression they were on watch. They at least waved back when prompted.

Circling around the last puddle of waste, a small pier rose up out of the muck. Barney trod on solid wood with no small amount of gratitude. Up ahead, a small gate in the radioactive water, currently down. Beyond it, a mudskipper, dirty but intact. On the pier, a woman finished dumping the remainder of a gas canister into the airboat while three strangely still men looked onward.

"This should last you," grunted the lady as they approached. She looked up. "Yep! This is the guy. Thank you for your patience."

One of the three citizens inclined his head. He turned to face Barney. He was very tall and gaunt, his vision intense. Something prickled at the back of Barney's mind. It almost felt familiar, somehow. Like that tune. I had to tell Eli something.

The citizen's eyes lingered on Barney's gun for a few moments. Then the man smirked. "So. You are Barney Calhoun, then? The one we have been waiting for?"

"Yep." Barney glanced at the airboat. "Gotta get to Black Mesa East, and it looks like a one seater. I figure it could handle on of you on either side, holding on to the frame?" Barney looked from one citizen to the next. Was it just him, or were none of them … blinking?

"We go as three," said one.

"Or not at all," finished another. "But, we are willing to wait. We are told you have a package for Black Mesa?"

Barney glanced at the lady, who shrugged. Something was … starting to feel wrong, here. A trio of black dufflebags huddled under a desk behind her. One of the gents had discreetly begun shuffling up to it.

"Yeah," said Barney, resisting the urge to back up. His palms sweated against the handle of his submachine gun. Really glad I had this out, all of a sudden. "Uh, it's sorta urgent, so if I'm free to go…"

"We are curious as to the contents of your pack," remarked the foremost citizen in a pleasant tone. He stood over Barney, at least a head taller, eyes looking almost yellow in the dark. "What could be so urgent to prevent the passage of three citizens in favor of one?"

"Something to use against the Combine?" suggested the second citizen. The third had reached the desk. He began to reach down.

Barney looked the citizen straight in the eye.

"You're talking to an undercover metrocop. You guys aren't subtle. What do you want?"

"The body," breathed the closest citizen, his voice a rasping hiss.

"Yes."

"Give us the body, so we may leave this place."

"Barney?" asked Hammond, voice shaking. "What's going on?"

"Aliens walk among us, Hammond," said Barney, standing straight, looking the bastard right in the eye. The citizen turned his head, like a bird surveying its prey. "I think they're trying to reclaim their own." Barney came to a conclusion, and took a deep breath. "Lemme give you a Black Mesa welcome."

Hammond shouted as Barney let loose with the gun. Green sprayed from the citizen's uniform, dispelling any lingering doubt from his mind. He fell backwards, yelling, while Hammond pulled his pistol free and fired wildly.

The gas lady screamed, falling backward, while the third citizen had pulled something free from his duffle bag. It glowed an eerie and familiar green.

"Down!"

Bolts of light shot over Barney's head, the air sizzling with a burst of concentrated heat. Barney kept firing. A cloud of thick green smoke appeared from nowhere as his gun went click. And something flopped into the noxious liquid below. Barney ejected the empty mag and felt for the other one, on his stomach all the while. Then he began to inch forward on his belly, trying to get closer to the boat. He couldn't see anything through the … smoke.

Something hissed like a snake on his right. Barney jerked his aim in that direction and looked down the holographic sight. Hammond shouted from behind him, and he heard more footsteps on wood. The rest of Station 6 coming to see what was going on.

"What the-"

More green flew from behind the smoke. Barney snapped back to it and emptied several more rounds in its general direction. He heard another hiss of alien pain and chuckled, crawling forward again.

"We've got hostiles!"

Something leapt from the pier and into the water. The "citizen" stood only waist deep in the muck, entirely unperturbed by the radioactive toxins. He held a single, lengthy green rifle in a single hand. He aimed it behind Barney and fired three times.

The green bolts collided with Hammond, sending searing blood everywhere. He flew backwards with some force, crunching against the wall before sliding off the pier and into the water. The "citizen" hissed in triumph. Barney aimed at his face.

The "citizen" moved as if boneless, his legs and arms moving unnaturally as he tried to dive into the water. The bullets found him anyway, kicking up bright green blood. With a final scream, the creature exploded into noxious green smoke. To Barney's bafflement, his rifle promptly burst into pieces as he went limp.

The dust settled. Two gun-wielding citizens came up to Barney from behind, asking him if he was okay. Gas lady lay dead amongst two dead "citizens," her neck broken. Hammond floated face down in the clouded filth. E.T. grew a little heavier on Barney's back.

"Fine," said Barney, shifting his aching shoulders. "Spread the word. We've got aliens posing as citizens." He pointed to the distended bodies. "Save those if you can. God knows, I'll probably have to come back for them." Try not to dwell on those you can't save. If he had the time, he'd fish Hammond out himself.

"We'll-"

"Attention, please," said the Overwatch Dispatch, her voice terrifyingly close. Barney's heart jolted in his chest, and the previously flushed faces of the citizens grew pale. "Unidentified weapons discharge detected in Sector 6. Possible exogen breach in progress. Remote compliance measures confirmed. Unidentified persons of interest: accept your verdict. Containment zone designated. Ground teams move to intercept. Code: Inquire. Isolate. Clamp."

"You gotta go," said one wild-eyed citizen, shoving Barney towards the boat. "We gotta pull everything up and move. Move!"

"I can take a couple of you with-" Barney's words fell on deaf ears. The man already turned the crank that opened the gate. He pointed to the airboat.

"No time! We'll be all right. Just-"

Something burst in the distance. The ground trembled. The other citizen hurried back, gun at the ready, shouting for everyone to get clear. Good God.

"Go on!" screamed the citizen, and Barney clambered aboard, placing the backpack next to his feet near the gas pedals. "Drive, dammit! Don't stop until you see the dam!"

Barney turned the key and the airboat roared into life. With a shout he drove onward through the tunnel, leaving Station 6 behind. With a final glance backwards, he saw the second headcrab canister slam into the Station, making his teeth shake from the impact. Small arms fire erupted from where it landed. Control it. Come on. Get everyone out.

The sound of a helicopter dispelled that notion. They might have seen some of those stray green energy blasts. They're coming to collect. But why the canisters, then…? Unless … unless they already knew where the Station was.

Another canister hit the ground. A woman began screaming. Barney left the engine idling, wondering if he should head back. Don't dwell on those you cannot save-

The hunter chopper came from the east, its searchlight blazing. The citizen had been right. No time. Barney hit the gas and hoped the damn thing wouldn't see him. He heard the hum of its gun charging as it circled the shantytown. Then the discharge, which terminated with a fourth shell hitting the station.

The dark canals stretched ahead. Barney gunned down them, left hand keeping the backpack still while his other pinned the throttle, his heart in his throat. As the canals opened up into widened cisterns and small lakes, he kept his eyes in the sky, not just for the Combine, but for the same thing he had looked for back in New Mexico, all those years ago.

"And they called me a nut for believing in UFOs," muttered Barney, half-giggling to himself from the sheer terror of it all. The gunshot faded from behind him, leaving Barney alone with his thoughts and the alien body. Long way to go.