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- Thread starter AJ Rimmer
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AJ Rimmer
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And thy prayers shall be answered.
Pete’s leg was hurting so much he didn’t have the energy to scream. He was exhausted. The yellow infection surrounding the wound was creating a foul stench and was making the rest of the skin die slowly. It appeared the flesh around the actual wound had begun to rot. He was scared, in pain and tired. And there was nobody there with him.
After the elevator they had found themselves in an area of labs. Jonathan and Hitchford had after many protests agreed with Pete and left him here in search for aid, once they found something they would return.
He held his shotgun close and closed his eyes. Trying to imagine away the pain. He was thinking of his friends and his parents. It hurt even more than his leg so he opened his eyes and returned to the cold, bitter reality.
He stared at the grey walls around him. There was big sign labelled: “Experimental Exobiology Labs D-G”.
There was a line of doors labelled Airlocks and observation windows next to them. Pete sat and wondered what exobiology was and why he had never heard of it. He didn’t know all the places in Black Mesa, far from it but he did know all the parts of Area 11. It was part of his training. And there was no experimental exobiology lab in Area 11. Definitely anywhere close Checkpoint Fox. There was only one solution to it: They were lost.
He turned around and looked down the corridor. He heard a noise, very low but somewhere very close. He turned again and spotted a movement in the corner of his eye. In the window of one of the airlock doors there was a scientist in a radiation suit, banging his fists on the window, apparently screaming.
Pete slowly and very painfully got up and limped over to the door and put his hand at the window. The scientist shouted but the window was evidently soundproof. He banged his fists very hard on the window and it made a very faint sound. Pete looked around for a handle but there was only a code lock. He gave the man a signal to stand back and brought up his shotgun and brought it down with full force on the window. It didn’t do a thing. He tried again. Nothing. He tried to show his failure to the man inside who was growing increasingly desperate, it seemed he was running out of air. He pointed to the side of the door at the code lock.
Pete shook his head trying to show that he did not know the code.
The scientist pushed his hand to the window and showed four fingers. Pete stood dumbfounded for a second and then understood and quickly pushed number four on the code.
The scientist showed three and Pete pushed three. Then both hands, five finger plus three fingers. Pete pushed eight. And the last sign. The man showed his long finger and Pete pushed the last digit and the door slid open. The scientist fell out pulling off his sealed helmet and breathed quickly, he was completely out of breath lying on the floor. Pete couldn’t get down to help him and couldn’t let his guard down. Once the man had caught his breath he screamed, causing him to lose his breath again:
“Push the red button above the code lock! Now!” Pete pushed the small button and the door slid back into place.
He was watching the man, heaving his whole body up and down on the cement floor, feeling very useless but he couldn’t get down on the floor without help. The man stood up after a while and gathered himself.
“Hello. Thank you so much for rescuing me. I wouldn’t have lasted long. My name is Dr Ellis. And you are…?”
“Pete. You’re welcome but, how the hell did end up in there?” The exhausted man looked a bit embarrassed but answered.
“Well, I was working alone in the lab when the power went. The stasis fields died out so I remained to make sure none of the specimen escaped, if they did I would call security.” Ellis really looked ashamed now. “I only wish I had realised the power took out the phone lines as well.” Pete felt like both laughing because this man obviously was extremely dumb and crying because he still got paid more than himself.
“What specimens?” Pete looked oddly at the doctor when he showed him to the observation window.
Pete looked over his shoulder and saw one of the slave-like two-legged monsters stand and look at him. It banged its fists against the glass but it was the same material as the airlock door window.
“You created these things?” Pete looked accusingly at the thin short scientist.
“No no, we found them and brought them here for studying. The stasis kept them asleep for about an hour after the power died but about twenty minutes ago they were strong enough to brake out of the containment. I had no choice but to get into the airlock, but it can only be opened from the outside, I didn’t realise we had already evacuated. What happened?”
“We don’t really know, these things just started appearing all around the complex and things started braking down and blowing up.” The scientist looked like he didn’t understand.
“I’m sorry? I don’t understand, what things?” Pete nodded to the monster which had been joined by a little dog-like creature. The scientist looked amazed at the animals in the window.
“There’s been a containment failure? Oh my god!” He looked around the corridor but then turned back at Pete.
“But there are only these three specimen in this lab, the rest were transferred to the biodome labs, the Lambda labs and the experimental propulsion, weapons and environmental labs.”
“We’ve seen twelve so far. At least.” Ellis got big eyes and stared at him.
“Twelve?! There were only twenty-four in the whole facility last time I checked yesterday.”
“Well there are more coming in. They did this to me.” Pete pulled up his trouser leg and the doctor checked his injury with the style of a professional.
“Mmm… this looks like the wound caused by a specimen six. Uhhm, that is a “Grunt”, we call it that because it makes a very grunt-like noise. They are a very interesting creature, their exoskeleton grows on the skin and adds another layer of protection, we believe they are mainly…”
“Fascinating doc but I really don’t care.” He bit his lower lip when the doctors held up his leg and examined the wound.
“This infection seems to give the same symptoms as the neural toxin used by the parasitic crab-creatures. You need medical assistance now.”
“That’s why my colleagues left to get help.” As on command, Hitchford and Jonathan appeared jogging passed the corner with a first aid kit.
John laid his ear to the door and listened. He could hear nothing. He slowly opened the door with his shotgun ready. Inside was a big control centre. The two marines were facing a big row of computer consoles and were looking at schematics. John snuck in very quietly and hid behind a set of pipes.
“This got to be it. Look, it says so here, it leads to the coolant reserves.”
“Alright, let me have a look at that.” John could see one of the pieces of papers switched hands.
“Ok, turn, ‘that’ valve as much as you can counter-clockwise.” The Private Bronson did as his superior said.
There was a small humming noise that died out from the rest of the machine sounds that had been so excellently concealed from behind the maintenance door.
“Right that’s it. Call the captain.” The corporals voice increased in volume when he spoke with his commanding officer.
“Sir this is Team Gamma, we are ready to execute Operation Lockdown sir.”
“Very good, go ahead, I want audio confirmation.” John peaked out and discovered the marines had moved to a console facing his direction, he could see what they were doing without risking detection.
“Punching in the first execution code.” John was too far away to even see the code pad that presumably must be there.
“It worked, Silo A shut down, Silo B shut down, Silo C shut down. Silo D is not responding, repeat, Silo D is not responding, something must have shot the circuits to hell. Silo E is not responding either. Silo F shut down, Silo G shut down, Silo H shut down. Silos A through C and F through H are shutdown sir. Command Shutdown is completed sir, proceeding with Operation Lockdown.” The corporal added a new set of numbers to the console.
“Activating emergency closing of all silo doors… Now. Silo A emergency locks active. B, active. Standby.”
There was a brief pause and the corporal spoke again.
“Sir, all silo doors are locked, Security locks are activated throughout Sector 12 to Sector 3, command Security Lock is completed sir, proceeding with final phase of Lockdown mode.” A final set of digits was added to the console.
“All silo surface access entrances including blast doors and firing control centres are locking down sir, Operation completed, the complex is in Lockdown mode.” As a response the PA system kicked to life and distributed a single but informative message;
“Security Lockdown Mode engaged. Attention. Black Mesa announcement system now under military command. Silo D and E have not responded to Shutdown orders. Please avoid.”
Pete’s leg was hurting so much he didn’t have the energy to scream. He was exhausted. The yellow infection surrounding the wound was creating a foul stench and was making the rest of the skin die slowly. It appeared the flesh around the actual wound had begun to rot. He was scared, in pain and tired. And there was nobody there with him.
After the elevator they had found themselves in an area of labs. Jonathan and Hitchford had after many protests agreed with Pete and left him here in search for aid, once they found something they would return.
He held his shotgun close and closed his eyes. Trying to imagine away the pain. He was thinking of his friends and his parents. It hurt even more than his leg so he opened his eyes and returned to the cold, bitter reality.
He stared at the grey walls around him. There was big sign labelled: “Experimental Exobiology Labs D-G”.
There was a line of doors labelled Airlocks and observation windows next to them. Pete sat and wondered what exobiology was and why he had never heard of it. He didn’t know all the places in Black Mesa, far from it but he did know all the parts of Area 11. It was part of his training. And there was no experimental exobiology lab in Area 11. Definitely anywhere close Checkpoint Fox. There was only one solution to it: They were lost.
He turned around and looked down the corridor. He heard a noise, very low but somewhere very close. He turned again and spotted a movement in the corner of his eye. In the window of one of the airlock doors there was a scientist in a radiation suit, banging his fists on the window, apparently screaming.
Pete slowly and very painfully got up and limped over to the door and put his hand at the window. The scientist shouted but the window was evidently soundproof. He banged his fists very hard on the window and it made a very faint sound. Pete looked around for a handle but there was only a code lock. He gave the man a signal to stand back and brought up his shotgun and brought it down with full force on the window. It didn’t do a thing. He tried again. Nothing. He tried to show his failure to the man inside who was growing increasingly desperate, it seemed he was running out of air. He pointed to the side of the door at the code lock.
Pete shook his head trying to show that he did not know the code.
The scientist pushed his hand to the window and showed four fingers. Pete stood dumbfounded for a second and then understood and quickly pushed number four on the code.
The scientist showed three and Pete pushed three. Then both hands, five finger plus three fingers. Pete pushed eight. And the last sign. The man showed his long finger and Pete pushed the last digit and the door slid open. The scientist fell out pulling off his sealed helmet and breathed quickly, he was completely out of breath lying on the floor. Pete couldn’t get down to help him and couldn’t let his guard down. Once the man had caught his breath he screamed, causing him to lose his breath again:
“Push the red button above the code lock! Now!” Pete pushed the small button and the door slid back into place.
He was watching the man, heaving his whole body up and down on the cement floor, feeling very useless but he couldn’t get down on the floor without help. The man stood up after a while and gathered himself.
“Hello. Thank you so much for rescuing me. I wouldn’t have lasted long. My name is Dr Ellis. And you are…?”
“Pete. You’re welcome but, how the hell did end up in there?” The exhausted man looked a bit embarrassed but answered.
“Well, I was working alone in the lab when the power went. The stasis fields died out so I remained to make sure none of the specimen escaped, if they did I would call security.” Ellis really looked ashamed now. “I only wish I had realised the power took out the phone lines as well.” Pete felt like both laughing because this man obviously was extremely dumb and crying because he still got paid more than himself.
“What specimens?” Pete looked oddly at the doctor when he showed him to the observation window.
Pete looked over his shoulder and saw one of the slave-like two-legged monsters stand and look at him. It banged its fists against the glass but it was the same material as the airlock door window.
“You created these things?” Pete looked accusingly at the thin short scientist.
“No no, we found them and brought them here for studying. The stasis kept them asleep for about an hour after the power died but about twenty minutes ago they were strong enough to brake out of the containment. I had no choice but to get into the airlock, but it can only be opened from the outside, I didn’t realise we had already evacuated. What happened?”
“We don’t really know, these things just started appearing all around the complex and things started braking down and blowing up.” The scientist looked like he didn’t understand.
“I’m sorry? I don’t understand, what things?” Pete nodded to the monster which had been joined by a little dog-like creature. The scientist looked amazed at the animals in the window.
“There’s been a containment failure? Oh my god!” He looked around the corridor but then turned back at Pete.
“But there are only these three specimen in this lab, the rest were transferred to the biodome labs, the Lambda labs and the experimental propulsion, weapons and environmental labs.”
“We’ve seen twelve so far. At least.” Ellis got big eyes and stared at him.
“Twelve?! There were only twenty-four in the whole facility last time I checked yesterday.”
“Well there are more coming in. They did this to me.” Pete pulled up his trouser leg and the doctor checked his injury with the style of a professional.
“Mmm… this looks like the wound caused by a specimen six. Uhhm, that is a “Grunt”, we call it that because it makes a very grunt-like noise. They are a very interesting creature, their exoskeleton grows on the skin and adds another layer of protection, we believe they are mainly…”
“Fascinating doc but I really don’t care.” He bit his lower lip when the doctors held up his leg and examined the wound.
“This infection seems to give the same symptoms as the neural toxin used by the parasitic crab-creatures. You need medical assistance now.”
“That’s why my colleagues left to get help.” As on command, Hitchford and Jonathan appeared jogging passed the corner with a first aid kit.
John laid his ear to the door and listened. He could hear nothing. He slowly opened the door with his shotgun ready. Inside was a big control centre. The two marines were facing a big row of computer consoles and were looking at schematics. John snuck in very quietly and hid behind a set of pipes.
“This got to be it. Look, it says so here, it leads to the coolant reserves.”
“Alright, let me have a look at that.” John could see one of the pieces of papers switched hands.
“Ok, turn, ‘that’ valve as much as you can counter-clockwise.” The Private Bronson did as his superior said.
There was a small humming noise that died out from the rest of the machine sounds that had been so excellently concealed from behind the maintenance door.
“Right that’s it. Call the captain.” The corporals voice increased in volume when he spoke with his commanding officer.
“Sir this is Team Gamma, we are ready to execute Operation Lockdown sir.”
“Very good, go ahead, I want audio confirmation.” John peaked out and discovered the marines had moved to a console facing his direction, he could see what they were doing without risking detection.
“Punching in the first execution code.” John was too far away to even see the code pad that presumably must be there.
“It worked, Silo A shut down, Silo B shut down, Silo C shut down. Silo D is not responding, repeat, Silo D is not responding, something must have shot the circuits to hell. Silo E is not responding either. Silo F shut down, Silo G shut down, Silo H shut down. Silos A through C and F through H are shutdown sir. Command Shutdown is completed sir, proceeding with Operation Lockdown.” The corporal added a new set of numbers to the console.
“Activating emergency closing of all silo doors… Now. Silo A emergency locks active. B, active. Standby.”
There was a brief pause and the corporal spoke again.
“Sir, all silo doors are locked, Security locks are activated throughout Sector 12 to Sector 3, command Security Lock is completed sir, proceeding with final phase of Lockdown mode.” A final set of digits was added to the console.
“All silo surface access entrances including blast doors and firing control centres are locking down sir, Operation completed, the complex is in Lockdown mode.” As a response the PA system kicked to life and distributed a single but informative message;
“Security Lockdown Mode engaged. Attention. Black Mesa announcement system now under military command. Silo D and E have not responded to Shutdown orders. Please avoid.”
AJ Rimmer
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jeez, this is getting a bit long. Maybe I should start wrapping it up?
Subject: Birdwell, Kevin
Male, age 32
Education: Ph.D, Theoretical exobiology, MIT, Theoretical nuclear physics
Position: Research Supervisor
Assignment: Institute for exobiology, biodome complex
Clearance: Level 4
Administrative Sponsor: Classified
Disaster Response Priority: Preservation of research data
Secondary Priority: Personal safety.
Professor Birdwell walked across the hot parking lot with the bullet trembling deep in the barrel of the MP5 behind his back. He was very anxious to get out of the situation to say the least. He had managed to get out of the biodome after two full agonizing hours in which the very interesting specimens he had been fortunate enough to be allowed to study had broken out of containment. He remembered the feeling, there was a loud crash and all the alarms went off.
Sector 1’s electric fences and security doors were disengaging, one of the bigger creatures escaped very early and by the time the security team had tracked it down all the sectors were having containment failures. He had immediately gone to his office to burn all the research data since five months back on a CD in case the mainframe decided to pack it up. He was almost done when there was a loud banging outside his door and gunshots. The guard assigned to the corridor outside stumbled in with a huge wound in his chest.
The guard was dead before he hit the ground. He heard a loud banging behind the door before it started to hit the door. He pulled out the freshly burned CD and crawled into a vent.
After staying put somewhere deep in the vent system building up his courage he kept on going and twenty minutes later he crawled out a sewage opening and onto the sandy hot ground. He felt like a king… for about two minutes. Then the soldiers found him and since then he felt that things were rather quickly going down the toilet.
“Move it!” The soldier’s harsh voice didn’t leave any room for arguments and he stopped day dreaming and stepped through the door to the gatehouse. The soldiers led him to a small office labelled “Gate Supervisor” and shut the door behind him.
“Dr Birdwell is it?” Kevin looked at the large man behind the desk. He was wearing a captain’s uniform. He stood up and they shook hands.
“Dr Birdwell it’s a pleasure to finally meet. I’m Captain Cleer and I don’t have time for small talk. I want all the info on these things that you have and I want it now.” Birdwell stood still and shook his head.
“I don’t know what you mean sir.” Cleer stood up and slowly walked up to him. He reached into his lab coat pocket and pulled out a CD.
“I was willing to give you VIP status and give you a ticket out of here. It’s going to be hard to find anyone with information about these things when the crossfire thins out the scientist team’s lines. Had you co-operated you may have lived through this.”
Birdwell stared at the CD on the desk. He deeply regretted that he hadn’t given him the disk to begin with.
“However. I’ll give you one more chance. I want you to give me the access codes for the facility.”
“What?” Birdwell stared at the captain.
“Don’t play stupid. I want the access codes. You have clearance level four, give me the codes.”
Cleer stared straight into Birdwell’s eyes. He wasn’t completely bluffing. If the military had to silence the facility it was very doubtful that any members of the science team would survive. But he still believed that could be avoided.
The professor sighed and shook his head. It was painfully obvious he was completely bluffing. He only had secure access to the biodome complex and after the 360 the captain had done he was absolutely not putting anything behind the threat. The captain sighed and called for the soldiers to escort him out. They dragged him to a smaller room and locked him in.
Subject: Birdwell, Kevin
Male, age 32
Education: Ph.D, Theoretical exobiology, MIT, Theoretical nuclear physics
Position: Research Supervisor
Assignment: Institute for exobiology, biodome complex
Clearance: Level 4
Administrative Sponsor: Classified
Disaster Response Priority: Preservation of research data
Secondary Priority: Personal safety.
Professor Birdwell walked across the hot parking lot with the bullet trembling deep in the barrel of the MP5 behind his back. He was very anxious to get out of the situation to say the least. He had managed to get out of the biodome after two full agonizing hours in which the very interesting specimens he had been fortunate enough to be allowed to study had broken out of containment. He remembered the feeling, there was a loud crash and all the alarms went off.
Sector 1’s electric fences and security doors were disengaging, one of the bigger creatures escaped very early and by the time the security team had tracked it down all the sectors were having containment failures. He had immediately gone to his office to burn all the research data since five months back on a CD in case the mainframe decided to pack it up. He was almost done when there was a loud banging outside his door and gunshots. The guard assigned to the corridor outside stumbled in with a huge wound in his chest.
The guard was dead before he hit the ground. He heard a loud banging behind the door before it started to hit the door. He pulled out the freshly burned CD and crawled into a vent.
After staying put somewhere deep in the vent system building up his courage he kept on going and twenty minutes later he crawled out a sewage opening and onto the sandy hot ground. He felt like a king… for about two minutes. Then the soldiers found him and since then he felt that things were rather quickly going down the toilet.
“Move it!” The soldier’s harsh voice didn’t leave any room for arguments and he stopped day dreaming and stepped through the door to the gatehouse. The soldiers led him to a small office labelled “Gate Supervisor” and shut the door behind him.
“Dr Birdwell is it?” Kevin looked at the large man behind the desk. He was wearing a captain’s uniform. He stood up and they shook hands.
“Dr Birdwell it’s a pleasure to finally meet. I’m Captain Cleer and I don’t have time for small talk. I want all the info on these things that you have and I want it now.” Birdwell stood still and shook his head.
“I don’t know what you mean sir.” Cleer stood up and slowly walked up to him. He reached into his lab coat pocket and pulled out a CD.
“I was willing to give you VIP status and give you a ticket out of here. It’s going to be hard to find anyone with information about these things when the crossfire thins out the scientist team’s lines. Had you co-operated you may have lived through this.”
Birdwell stared at the CD on the desk. He deeply regretted that he hadn’t given him the disk to begin with.
“However. I’ll give you one more chance. I want you to give me the access codes for the facility.”
“What?” Birdwell stared at the captain.
“Don’t play stupid. I want the access codes. You have clearance level four, give me the codes.”
Cleer stared straight into Birdwell’s eyes. He wasn’t completely bluffing. If the military had to silence the facility it was very doubtful that any members of the science team would survive. But he still believed that could be avoided.
The professor sighed and shook his head. It was painfully obvious he was completely bluffing. He only had secure access to the biodome complex and after the 360 the captain had done he was absolutely not putting anything behind the threat. The captain sighed and called for the soldiers to escort him out. They dragged him to a smaller room and locked him in.
AJ Rimmer
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Evans walked through the hot corridor up to Captain Cleer’s office which just this morning had been his friend John’s office. He was going to ask him where John was. He had disappeared and did not answer any radio calls.
He stood outside the gatehouse supervisor and was about to knock when he froze. He could hear that the captain just gotten on the radio. He felt a sudden urge to snoop and put his ear to the door.
“This is Bravo Mike Romeo Foxtrot checkpoint Delta calling Santego HQ. Over.” The response came quickly through the radio.
“We read you Bravo Mike Romeo Foxtrot dash Delta. Please report.”
“We have secured Checkpoint Delta and executed Lockdown throughout the facility. Checkpoint Foxtrot have secured their gate area but it seems some members of the local science team in sector Delta of the silo complex are beginning to reach the surface. Operation Shutdown failed in Silo D and E. Captain Fein has reported several hostile encounters and taken five prisoners. So far no resistance from the science team. We are awaiting orders.”
“What level of containment?” Evans could hear Cleer pause for a moment.
“Constant encounters around the area. As Fox Charlie niner reported we have potential danger to incoming aircrafts. The inner facility seems to be completely infested. All containment systems have failed except silo doors and lockdown. Actions must be taken quickly to stop the containment to spread to outside the facility. The anomalies seem to be resisting at an intelligent and calculated way. At least the more evolved specimens.”
“Do you have the manpower to execute Operation Containment?” Cleer was silent for a long time and when he returned he sounded very forced.
“No sir. The recon detail can not contain the invasion.” It took almost a minute before the reply came. To Evans it didn’t mean as much but to Captain Cleer it seemed last for ever.
“Understood Delta outpost. We will be sending in the main force in thirty minutes. Please alert all checkpoint leaders to begin Operation Clean-up. Clear your areas and stay put in your areas until the main force arrives and begins the full-scale operation.” Cleer answered quietly.
“Understood sir. Checkpoint Gamma reports extreme hazardous anomalies in their sector. They request air support from Santego airbase ASAP.”
“Understood. Air support will arrive in twenty minutes. Santego HQ out.”
It was quiet in the room and then Evans heard feet walking towards the door. Evans stood at the other side of the hall when Cleer walked out. Evans thought for a second whether or not he should tell Cleer that John wasn’t in the compound. Some faint warning bell told him not to.
“Captain.” Evans nodded at him.
“Evans. What can I do for you?”
“I just wanted to tell you that all sectors are still clear. There have been no further encounters.” Cleer looked at him as if asking “was that it?”.
“Oh. Alright. Thankyou. I thought the area was secured an hour ago.”
“It was. Ehmm but it still is.”
“Oh. Okay. Evans, I have good news for you and your men. You’re getting pulled out. The main force arrives in half an hour and they are evacuating all Security forces. Tell all your men to gather in front of the gatehouse in ten minutes.”
He stood outside the gatehouse supervisor and was about to knock when he froze. He could hear that the captain just gotten on the radio. He felt a sudden urge to snoop and put his ear to the door.
“This is Bravo Mike Romeo Foxtrot checkpoint Delta calling Santego HQ. Over.” The response came quickly through the radio.
“We read you Bravo Mike Romeo Foxtrot dash Delta. Please report.”
“We have secured Checkpoint Delta and executed Lockdown throughout the facility. Checkpoint Foxtrot have secured their gate area but it seems some members of the local science team in sector Delta of the silo complex are beginning to reach the surface. Operation Shutdown failed in Silo D and E. Captain Fein has reported several hostile encounters and taken five prisoners. So far no resistance from the science team. We are awaiting orders.”
“What level of containment?” Evans could hear Cleer pause for a moment.
“Constant encounters around the area. As Fox Charlie niner reported we have potential danger to incoming aircrafts. The inner facility seems to be completely infested. All containment systems have failed except silo doors and lockdown. Actions must be taken quickly to stop the containment to spread to outside the facility. The anomalies seem to be resisting at an intelligent and calculated way. At least the more evolved specimens.”
“Do you have the manpower to execute Operation Containment?” Cleer was silent for a long time and when he returned he sounded very forced.
“No sir. The recon detail can not contain the invasion.” It took almost a minute before the reply came. To Evans it didn’t mean as much but to Captain Cleer it seemed last for ever.
“Understood Delta outpost. We will be sending in the main force in thirty minutes. Please alert all checkpoint leaders to begin Operation Clean-up. Clear your areas and stay put in your areas until the main force arrives and begins the full-scale operation.” Cleer answered quietly.
“Understood sir. Checkpoint Gamma reports extreme hazardous anomalies in their sector. They request air support from Santego airbase ASAP.”
“Understood. Air support will arrive in twenty minutes. Santego HQ out.”
It was quiet in the room and then Evans heard feet walking towards the door. Evans stood at the other side of the hall when Cleer walked out. Evans thought for a second whether or not he should tell Cleer that John wasn’t in the compound. Some faint warning bell told him not to.
“Captain.” Evans nodded at him.
“Evans. What can I do for you?”
“I just wanted to tell you that all sectors are still clear. There have been no further encounters.” Cleer looked at him as if asking “was that it?”.
“Oh. Alright. Thankyou. I thought the area was secured an hour ago.”
“It was. Ehmm but it still is.”
“Oh. Okay. Evans, I have good news for you and your men. You’re getting pulled out. The main force arrives in half an hour and they are evacuating all Security forces. Tell all your men to gather in front of the gatehouse in ten minutes.”
SnowBall
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Holy crap this is good. I love the security guards stories. Most people are against a Half-Life movie, but if this were made into a movie, I would be more than happy. Grade A material my friend.
I feel so inspired by it, I almost want to do some fan art of it. Might have to find time to do so. Keep up the great work!
I feel so inspired by it, I almost want to do some fan art of it. Might have to find time to do so. Keep up the great work!
-JeZ-
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Mr Rimmer, your writing is excellent, especially so considering English isn't your first language. I hope you have the time to finish the whole story as I'm anxious to see what happens to John, Pete and Co!.
I only have one suggestion...when you've finished it stick it in a .txt or .doc and give it to the mods to upload and have them link to the file in this thread. I'd be proud to have the whole thing on my HD so I could read it again
.
I will email Gabe with a link to this thread as I think it's the best piece of fanfic I've read, period. Keep up the good work.
[EDIT] Email sent :thumbs:
I only have one suggestion...when you've finished it stick it in a .txt or .doc and give it to the mods to upload and have them link to the file in this thread. I'd be proud to have the whole thing on my HD so I could read it again
.I will email Gabe with a link to this thread as I think it's the best piece of fanfic I've read, period. Keep up the good work.
[EDIT] Email sent :thumbs:
AJ Rimmer
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Wow. Thankyou-JeZ- said:Mr Rimmer, your writing is excellent, especially so considering English isn't your first language. I hope you have the time to finish the whole story as I'm anxious to see what happens to John, Pete and Co!.
I only have one suggestion...when you've finished it stick it in a .txt or .doc and give it to the mods to upload and have them link to the file in this thread. I'd be proud to have the whole thing on my HD so I could read it again
I will email Gabe with a link to this thread as I think it's the best piece of fanfic I've read, period. Keep up the good work.
[EDIT] Email sent :thumbs:
AJ Rimmer
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The sun was right above them as Evans glanced around him at the 20 or so security guards, all in the same uniform. He was pleased. During the count of the men it had struck him how utterly preposterous his suspicions had been. He had asked around and kept calling him on the radio but there was no sign of John. He would tell the captain to look for him before he left. The tall sergeant Talbert cleared his throat and distributed his orders with practiced bravado.
“All right, listen up people. Due to the fact that the Black Mesa Facility poses threats to our incoming aircrafts, we have to limit the amount of time our Ospreys have to stay in the area. Therefore, we will collect your weapons before you leave. They are more needed for our main force than for you. My men will collect your shotguns, and you may keep your sidearms.” Evans mind sprung to life again. He painted up new nightmare scenarios, none which he truly believed. It did make sense, it was all just his imagination playing tricks on him. Yet he felt something was wrong when the skinny private collected his shotgun and carried it along with four others over his shoulder. Once all the guards were standing at attention with both hands behind their backs he saw Talbert make a sign to a corporal besides him.
All the soldiers around the security guards aimed their weapons at them. Evans looked around and counted somewhere among 30 barrels pointed at them. He felt the earth disappear underneath him. Once during his military training he had accidentally dropped a live grenade in his own foxhole. The feeling in his stomach was the same as now. But this time there was no way he could get out of this hole by swinging over the ledge and dropping to the ground. Had they had their shotguns they made have had a chance but they were being carried inside the gatehouse, presumably back to their racks.
Talbert called across the courtyard;
“Machine gunners!” Two men, each carrying an M249 ran up. They mounted them on a group of sandbags that had been set up, presumably to guard the gatehouse, only now they were facing the wrong direction. After they loaded the ammunition belts they gave thumbs up to the sergeant who stood silent for a moment. Evans didn’t even hear him but he clearly saw his lips form the word “Fire”.
Evans had already drawn his gun and had Talbert in his sight when the bullets started raining. He felt his leg get torn up and his body fall to the side in slow-motion. He felt bullets rip through his body as he fell through the line of fire. He landed on the hot ground, the noise around him was unbearable. The machine gun fire, the screams and the sound of bones and flesh being torn apart. He lay with his face to the right and saw another man fall down. He looked at him and discovered that his torso was covered in bullet holes. Dark stains were spreading on his uniform. His eyes were dead. The Kevlar couldn’t take the machine gun fire. He suddenly noticed a red track in the sand. It ran from just a foot in front of him all the way up to his neck. He closed his eyes as the gun fire ceased.
Talbert’s voice sounded as if it was about to break.
“Count them and make sure all are dead.” The pile of corpses on the New Mexico sand in front of him made the guilt hit him like a ton of bricks. The soldiers started searching through them. A man shouted as he was poked in the back by an M4. He hulked when the soldier lifted him in his hair, his helmet laying a bloody pool next to him. His legs were covered with wounds, one of them was hanging by a few strings of flesh under his kneecap.
He coughed up blood and let out a cry when he was dropped on the ground again. A single gunshot through his head ended his pain. Another guard started crawling away, his legs to had been shot to pieces. He was leaving a trail of blood behind him as a snail. A big, strong soldier put his boot down on his back and threw the man on his back. The guard screamed in pain when the soldier got up his pistol and aimed for a head shot.
“No! No please no! I have a family please no!”
“Shut up!” The soldier took careful aim.
“Oh God no! No don’t do-“ The gunshot interrupted the man’s plea for mercy as quickly as it had ended his life.
There was a knock on Cleer’s door. He looked up and saw a young Corporal stand in the doorway.
“Come in corporal. At ease.” The corporal cleared his throat and spoke. He was very nervous.
“Sir the uhm…the operation is completed sir.”
“Good.” The captain looked down at his hands. He felt a desperate urge to be alone. “Is that all corporal?”
“Ehmm… no sir. The ehmm…” The man was sweating. “Sir Officer Halson isn’t there.”
Cleer looked at him with a confused look on his face.
“Excuse me? What do you mean?”
“There are only 24 bodies out there sir. His body wasn’t there. He didn’t assemble with the other guards sir.”
Cleer got out of his chair. He screamed at the top of his lungs.
“What? Didn’t Sergeant Talbert count them?”
“No sir he didn’t.” The captain was furious. The young soldier was sure he was going destroy something in the room soon.
“Get that idiot in here now! I’m gonna bust his ass down to private! And send out search parties for Halson! FIND HIM! NOW!”
“All right, listen up people. Due to the fact that the Black Mesa Facility poses threats to our incoming aircrafts, we have to limit the amount of time our Ospreys have to stay in the area. Therefore, we will collect your weapons before you leave. They are more needed for our main force than for you. My men will collect your shotguns, and you may keep your sidearms.” Evans mind sprung to life again. He painted up new nightmare scenarios, none which he truly believed. It did make sense, it was all just his imagination playing tricks on him. Yet he felt something was wrong when the skinny private collected his shotgun and carried it along with four others over his shoulder. Once all the guards were standing at attention with both hands behind their backs he saw Talbert make a sign to a corporal besides him.
All the soldiers around the security guards aimed their weapons at them. Evans looked around and counted somewhere among 30 barrels pointed at them. He felt the earth disappear underneath him. Once during his military training he had accidentally dropped a live grenade in his own foxhole. The feeling in his stomach was the same as now. But this time there was no way he could get out of this hole by swinging over the ledge and dropping to the ground. Had they had their shotguns they made have had a chance but they were being carried inside the gatehouse, presumably back to their racks.
Talbert called across the courtyard;
“Machine gunners!” Two men, each carrying an M249 ran up. They mounted them on a group of sandbags that had been set up, presumably to guard the gatehouse, only now they were facing the wrong direction. After they loaded the ammunition belts they gave thumbs up to the sergeant who stood silent for a moment. Evans didn’t even hear him but he clearly saw his lips form the word “Fire”.
Evans had already drawn his gun and had Talbert in his sight when the bullets started raining. He felt his leg get torn up and his body fall to the side in slow-motion. He felt bullets rip through his body as he fell through the line of fire. He landed on the hot ground, the noise around him was unbearable. The machine gun fire, the screams and the sound of bones and flesh being torn apart. He lay with his face to the right and saw another man fall down. He looked at him and discovered that his torso was covered in bullet holes. Dark stains were spreading on his uniform. His eyes were dead. The Kevlar couldn’t take the machine gun fire. He suddenly noticed a red track in the sand. It ran from just a foot in front of him all the way up to his neck. He closed his eyes as the gun fire ceased.
Talbert’s voice sounded as if it was about to break.
“Count them and make sure all are dead.” The pile of corpses on the New Mexico sand in front of him made the guilt hit him like a ton of bricks. The soldiers started searching through them. A man shouted as he was poked in the back by an M4. He hulked when the soldier lifted him in his hair, his helmet laying a bloody pool next to him. His legs were covered with wounds, one of them was hanging by a few strings of flesh under his kneecap.
He coughed up blood and let out a cry when he was dropped on the ground again. A single gunshot through his head ended his pain. Another guard started crawling away, his legs to had been shot to pieces. He was leaving a trail of blood behind him as a snail. A big, strong soldier put his boot down on his back and threw the man on his back. The guard screamed in pain when the soldier got up his pistol and aimed for a head shot.
“No! No please no! I have a family please no!”
“Shut up!” The soldier took careful aim.
“Oh God no! No don’t do-“ The gunshot interrupted the man’s plea for mercy as quickly as it had ended his life.
There was a knock on Cleer’s door. He looked up and saw a young Corporal stand in the doorway.
“Come in corporal. At ease.” The corporal cleared his throat and spoke. He was very nervous.
“Sir the uhm…the operation is completed sir.”
“Good.” The captain looked down at his hands. He felt a desperate urge to be alone. “Is that all corporal?”
“Ehmm… no sir. The ehmm…” The man was sweating. “Sir Officer Halson isn’t there.”
Cleer looked at him with a confused look on his face.
“Excuse me? What do you mean?”
“There are only 24 bodies out there sir. His body wasn’t there. He didn’t assemble with the other guards sir.”
Cleer got out of his chair. He screamed at the top of his lungs.
“What? Didn’t Sergeant Talbert count them?”
“No sir he didn’t.” The captain was furious. The young soldier was sure he was going destroy something in the room soon.
“Get that idiot in here now! I’m gonna bust his ass down to private! And send out search parties for Halson! FIND HIM! NOW!”
PunisherUSA
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-JeZ- said:I only have one suggestion...when you've finished it stick it in a .txt or .doc and give it to the mods to upload and have them link to the file in this thread. I'd be proud to have the whole thing on my HD so I could read it again
I'm workin on putting it in an html with frames, but It'll take me no time to pu 'em up as .txts
Start 15 minute timer for edit.... GO!
Here it is!
Brian Damage
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Very nice stuff. I do think that this should be published in some form. I sent an eMail off to Gabe Newell a few days back, asking what he thought of the idea of a fan fiction section on VALVe's Steam network...
Nothing so far...
Nothing so far...
CrazyHarij
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Mad skills, I envy you. Alot.
SnowBall
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Heres something I whipped up really quick. Just as a base inspiration so its not really any specific character. http://www.halflife2.net/forums/showthread.php?t=26940
h4vvok
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Oh and just wanted to point that dialogue out to you if you were editing, then again I think I totally misinterpreted it and it's probably fine. Great story and keep up the good work.....any versions in french? English is my 2nd language as well =\
AJ Rimmer
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Dr Birdwell had heard the gunshots and was desperately trying to brake the door down, but he was a small man. His shoulder was hurting and the door hadn’t shown the slightest hint of busting open.
He sat down against the door, heartbroken and feeling utterly desperate. His mind was working like crazy.
He was thinking very dark thoughts when he heard footsteps coming down the corridor. He heard keys and someone inserting one in the lock. A soldier with a harsh face walked through the door. Kevin swung the chair through the air and brought it down right on his face. The soldier took a backwards dive and landed heavily on the floor. Kevin dragged the unconsciousness body into the room and closed the door.
He searched the body and found a set of keys. He pulled them out of his pocket and grabbed his 9mm side arm.
Just to be safe, Kevin hit him across the head with the chair again.
He slowly pushed open the door. The hallway was empty. He snuck up to one of the doors and carefully felt the handle. It was locked. Seeing as there was no reaction to this, as a scientist he felt obliged to test if there was anyone or anything in there. He tested three keys before he found one that worked. The lock clicked out of place and Kevin felt his heartbeat grow stronger and stronger as he pulled open the door.
The room was a small cupboard, a lone light dangling in a chain from the ceiling. The doctor searched for the light switch but before he could find one he heard foot steps. He quickly but quietly shut the door behind him. After a few moment he heard a shout from just outside the door, they had without doubt found the knocked out soldier. Running boots followed and shouting to start a search. Once the noise had quieted down Kevin kept looking for the light. He found a switch and turned it on.
“Hey! T-t-turn off the ****ing light!” Kevin turned around in horror as he stared at a man lying on the floor in a pool of blood and puke. The swaying light from the bulb above cast horrifying shadows on his body. He was deformed in the most hideous way, his arms were longer than most people’s legs and his hands were the shape of claws, his fingers had turned as thin as ice hanging from the ceiling in the winter. His body was swelling up, ranches of blood veins appearing all over his skin. But most horrific of all was his head. Apart from the scars and deep incisions covering his face the whole head was swollen terribly. It was clear a horrible infection was attacking him, the scull was discoloured and swollen in a way Birdwell had previously seen in brain tumour patients. The poor man was trying to move his arm but collapsed and let out a long agonizing scream followed by vomiting. He coughed up blood and let out another scream. He was wearing a Kevlar and the remnants of a blue shirt. Everything on him was covered in discoloured blood and stool. The smell in the room was terrible.
“Turn off the ****ing lights!” The man had problems speaking, his voice snapping into loud hissing between sentences, he was also having troubles breathing. Kevin switched the light off again with a trembling hand.
“S-s-sorry… I didn’t know you were in here.” The man tried to reply but coughed up another pile of puke and blood on the floor.
“You… are you a doctor…?” The pathetic creatures trembling voice made it impossible for Doctor Birdwell to be afraid.
“Yes.”
“My name… is Tod… Buckman… Please kill me…” He was speaking very slowly and was holding his head as he did, as if to concentrate to remember some long forgotten childhood memory.
Kevin walked a bit closer.
“Who… or what are you?”
“I’m a… security guard… I was bitten by… one of those… -ARGHH!” The man threw up again. He either didn’t have the strength or wasn’t able to move in time and puked on himself. “… little crab things… But they… took it off… They won’t kill me!”
Kevin stared with eyes wide open as the man stood up and let out a scream of pain, swung his arm towards a shelf that was cut in half by the sharp claws which seemed to hurt the man completely. He then lost his balance and knocked himself out against the wall.
Kevin shut the door quickly and ran further back the corridor. He looked carefully out the window at the gate booths outside. There were army trucks outside being loaded with something. Big, black plastic bags were being thrown up onto the trucks. He gasped as he realized what was in them. The gunfire had woken him up from his sleep and had suspected the worst but it now hit him what the truth fully meant. He heard the sound of the handle of a pump action shotgun get pulled back.
He turned around slowly and stared at the two soldiers standing before him with their weapons aimed at him.
“Throw down your gun and put you hands above your head.” There was a loud scream and the wooden door next to the soldier with the shotgun broke down, falling on the soldier knocking him to the ground. The other man didn’t have time to react before on the of big claws ripped through the air and cut through his torso. He fell down in screams and the creature turned to Kevin. Between the screams that did not belong in this world he could make out a faint human voice shouting something that sounded like; “Run doctor, run”.
Kevin took off for a window facing towards the facility, one look out the window facing the booths showed the soldiers were coming around from the other side. He hurled through the window and landed on the sand outside. He got to his feet and ran as fast as he could, his heartbeat accompanied by gunfire and screams from the former security guard Tod Buckman.
He sat down against the door, heartbroken and feeling utterly desperate. His mind was working like crazy.
He was thinking very dark thoughts when he heard footsteps coming down the corridor. He heard keys and someone inserting one in the lock. A soldier with a harsh face walked through the door. Kevin swung the chair through the air and brought it down right on his face. The soldier took a backwards dive and landed heavily on the floor. Kevin dragged the unconsciousness body into the room and closed the door.
He searched the body and found a set of keys. He pulled them out of his pocket and grabbed his 9mm side arm.
Just to be safe, Kevin hit him across the head with the chair again.
He slowly pushed open the door. The hallway was empty. He snuck up to one of the doors and carefully felt the handle. It was locked. Seeing as there was no reaction to this, as a scientist he felt obliged to test if there was anyone or anything in there. He tested three keys before he found one that worked. The lock clicked out of place and Kevin felt his heartbeat grow stronger and stronger as he pulled open the door.
The room was a small cupboard, a lone light dangling in a chain from the ceiling. The doctor searched for the light switch but before he could find one he heard foot steps. He quickly but quietly shut the door behind him. After a few moment he heard a shout from just outside the door, they had without doubt found the knocked out soldier. Running boots followed and shouting to start a search. Once the noise had quieted down Kevin kept looking for the light. He found a switch and turned it on.
“Hey! T-t-turn off the ****ing light!” Kevin turned around in horror as he stared at a man lying on the floor in a pool of blood and puke. The swaying light from the bulb above cast horrifying shadows on his body. He was deformed in the most hideous way, his arms were longer than most people’s legs and his hands were the shape of claws, his fingers had turned as thin as ice hanging from the ceiling in the winter. His body was swelling up, ranches of blood veins appearing all over his skin. But most horrific of all was his head. Apart from the scars and deep incisions covering his face the whole head was swollen terribly. It was clear a horrible infection was attacking him, the scull was discoloured and swollen in a way Birdwell had previously seen in brain tumour patients. The poor man was trying to move his arm but collapsed and let out a long agonizing scream followed by vomiting. He coughed up blood and let out another scream. He was wearing a Kevlar and the remnants of a blue shirt. Everything on him was covered in discoloured blood and stool. The smell in the room was terrible.
“Turn off the ****ing lights!” The man had problems speaking, his voice snapping into loud hissing between sentences, he was also having troubles breathing. Kevin switched the light off again with a trembling hand.
“S-s-sorry… I didn’t know you were in here.” The man tried to reply but coughed up another pile of puke and blood on the floor.
“You… are you a doctor…?” The pathetic creatures trembling voice made it impossible for Doctor Birdwell to be afraid.
“Yes.”
“My name… is Tod… Buckman… Please kill me…” He was speaking very slowly and was holding his head as he did, as if to concentrate to remember some long forgotten childhood memory.
Kevin walked a bit closer.
“Who… or what are you?”
“I’m a… security guard… I was bitten by… one of those… -ARGHH!” The man threw up again. He either didn’t have the strength or wasn’t able to move in time and puked on himself. “… little crab things… But they… took it off… They won’t kill me!”
Kevin stared with eyes wide open as the man stood up and let out a scream of pain, swung his arm towards a shelf that was cut in half by the sharp claws which seemed to hurt the man completely. He then lost his balance and knocked himself out against the wall.
Kevin shut the door quickly and ran further back the corridor. He looked carefully out the window at the gate booths outside. There were army trucks outside being loaded with something. Big, black plastic bags were being thrown up onto the trucks. He gasped as he realized what was in them. The gunfire had woken him up from his sleep and had suspected the worst but it now hit him what the truth fully meant. He heard the sound of the handle of a pump action shotgun get pulled back.
He turned around slowly and stared at the two soldiers standing before him with their weapons aimed at him.
“Throw down your gun and put you hands above your head.” There was a loud scream and the wooden door next to the soldier with the shotgun broke down, falling on the soldier knocking him to the ground. The other man didn’t have time to react before on the of big claws ripped through the air and cut through his torso. He fell down in screams and the creature turned to Kevin. Between the screams that did not belong in this world he could make out a faint human voice shouting something that sounded like; “Run doctor, run”.
Kevin took off for a window facing towards the facility, one look out the window facing the booths showed the soldiers were coming around from the other side. He hurled through the window and landed on the sand outside. He got to his feet and ran as fast as he could, his heartbeat accompanied by gunfire and screams from the former security guard Tod Buckman.
PunisherUSA
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Very good! But I think there's a small problem. After searching the group of dead security guards, one was missing, John Halson. But another guard, Tod Buckman, is also missing, but he was not missed when counting bodies.
Maybe I'm missing something, but 2 solutions are to have the army searching for 2 guards or have the incident with Tod-zombie before the killing (which is diffficult because the sci heard gunfire, etc.)
By the way, how many more sections, 1? 5? 20?
Maybe I'm missing something, but 2 solutions are to have the army searching for 2 guards or have the incident with Tod-zombie before the killing (which is diffficult because the sci heard gunfire, etc.)
By the way, how many more sections, 1? 5? 20?
PunisherUSA
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ummm, now I'm even more confused. Couldn't he just be a scientist half-turned into a zombie? That would be all the simpler.
PunisherUSA
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OK OK. I'm gonna stop asking questions and just wait for more story
Brian Damage
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Well, there were Mawmen, the normal zombies, and then there were the further-mutated Gonomes, zombies which were further along the path to whatever final form zombies take, which turned up later on in OP4...
AJ Rimmer
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Still writing.
John ran down the cramped corridor. It was completely dark and every second he had to watch out to avoid crashing into a stack of boxes. His uniform which previously had been splattered with patterns of blood, he was now soaked in human blood from the ears down. Due to a freak accident when trying to leave the silo control room the soldiers had found him as he was walking past the corner of the corridor outside. His shotgun barrel had slammed into the face of one of them and gone off. The blood had covered every inch of the corridor and the corporal behind him. He had reacted far quicker than him and the next gunshot blew a good portion of the corporal’s shoulder away. His entire body was sticky with blood. He fell on his face when he walked straight into a pile of cardboard boxes. The boxes landed on him but they were mostly empty. The impact had however kicked the sickness from the headcrab in action again and he threw up on the cold, wet floor. The headache had grown from a headache to someone driving an ice pick through his cerebral.
He got to his feet and kept walking like a blind man through the tunnel, bumping in to more boxes and walls. He walked at full speed face first into a steel door. He grasped for a handle and turned it. The door swung open and he squinted in the bright light of the clean white corridor.
He walked down it, his eyes looking for any movement. He turned a corner and found himself in a different world.
Before lay a scene of battle. The clean white walls and the slightly greyish floors were stained with blood. A marine had gotten his arm blown away and lay in a pool of blood. The hallway was barricaded with desks and chairs. They had not held long enough. There were bullet holes all over the walls and the desks. John walked up closer to the barricade. With fists clenched he looked over the edge of the desk to see where the blood stain underneath the barricade came from.
It was a security guard, his Kevlar was torn up with holes and his arms were bleeding. He was laying next to a second guard, he had a series of wounds leading up to his neck. The blood mixed in with the other’s blood. He bent down and checked their name tags. Their names had been Mario Casali and Jeff Clisse. They had both died on their posts. He was ready to leave when he heard raised voices from far down the corridor. He grabbed his shotgun from where he had left it on the floor and slowly made his way towards the noise. He silenced his steps more and more as he heard the voices clearly. There were three of them. He finally detected the voices from inside a transit system monitoring station. He approached a closed door and peaked through the glass window.
Inside was two soldiers, one with blood across his face, both seemed as they had just been in battle, both carrying MP5s. And before them, tied to a chair, his face and his trousers covered in blood and his head leaning back to the back of the chair was a very thin-looking security guard. One of the privates raised his hand and gave the man a blow to the nose. His head jolted back and the chair fell to the floor. He hit his head on the floor and John saw a new streak of blood pouring out of his nose. The other soldier pulled the chair back up.
“Once again, where is he!” The first soldier shouted at him. He responded with a quivering voice. John could see small spits of blood fly out of his mouth when he answered.
“F-**** you…”
The man raised his hand again, this time John could see a pistol in it.
He brought down the butt hard on the soldier’s skull and John shuddered when he heard the impact.
“Tell me!” After a long pause the guards voice returnerd:
“****… you…!”
The soldier lost his patience, he dropped his MP5 to the ground and grabbed the guards throat with both hands.
“Listen here you little ****! Tell me where Dr Rosenberg is!”
“Go to hell!” The chair fell to the side when another whack from the butt of the pistol hit him. John saw a bloody tooth fall to the ground. The man cried out as the pain hit him. He was pulled back up again by the other soldier. Again he was pulled up and the interrogator put his massacred bleeding jaw in his hand and asked him calmly.
“Where is he?” The guard was drifting out of consciousness but responded very drifting like.
“I don’t know who he is…” The soldier didn’t raise his hand this time. Instead he bent down and picked up a small cage with steel bars. Like a cat cage. He held it before the man’s face and shook the cage. He gently slapped the guard on the face, making him focus on the cage in front of him. A familiar sound was heard and the cage jolted in the marine’s hand, John could see little sharp claws flash out from inside the cage.
“Oh god no… it’s… one of those things… don’t do it, don’t, no please!” He tried to get out of his restraints but the man behind him held him and the soldier asked once more:
“Where is he? Tell me!”
“I don’t who the **** Dr Rosenberg is!”
“Too bad.” He pushed the cage closer and slowly let open the door.
John gave the door a heavy tackle and it broke open. He aimed the shotgun at the soldier behind the guard and let a blast away, his head snapped out of joint by the force and a big chunk of his brain splattered across the wall. He pulled back the handle and heard the cage fall to the ground.
In slow-motion he saw the guard fall down with the headcrab on his face, he saw the cage roll on the floor and he saw the marine hurling towards him through the air. He was brought back to the normal pace of things when another shotgun blast hit the floor as the heavy private gave him a heads-on full body tackle and pushed him to the floor. He let go of his gun and started wrestling with him. For about a minute they rolled around on the floor. John tried to get a punch at the guy but he felt the cold barrel of a gun pushed against his head. He jolted upwards and rammed his forehead straight into the soldiers face. The gun fell to the floor and he managed to get out of his grip. He crawled across the floor to his shotgun and heard a scream. He raised his head and got whacked with the palm of the zombie. The monster then lifted him up in the air and gave him a free ride into the wall at the other side of the room.
He slowly got up, the world was spinning around him as he carefully took a few babysteps forwards and fell down again. He was bleeding from the forehead. Not that he could take any notice as his face was still covered in blood. He crawled over the floor towards the shotgun he had dropped when the fight started. He saw the grunt fight off the zombie and get a few shots in its torso. The zombie got mad and tried to hit him but the soldier was too well trained. He grabbed the zombie and pushed it on the floor and started bashing its head with the pistol when he ran out of ammo. The long sharp claws made terrible cuts on his arms and body but the attacks got weaker and weaker. John pulled back the handle and took aim.
With surprising speed and reaction the zombie took a leap from the floor and once again John hit the floor on his back. He quickly turned around and started inching his way towards the shotgun on the floor, dragging a zombie and a very upset US marine in the room. He closed his fingers around the slim body of the weapon and pulled it to him. He rammed it down the side of himself until he felt the barrel impact with something and he pulled the trigger. The brains and brons of the zombie blew off in all directions, John felt those parts of himself that were still clean get splashed with the disgusting disfigured entrails of the former security guard. There was a loud screaming.
He turned around and saw the soldier had fallen to his knees. The shotgun blast had hit his legs. John slowly got up and put in another shell while the marine was shouting very nasty words. He didn’t even notice him until the barrel was a foot from his face.
John pulled the trigger.
John ran down the cramped corridor. It was completely dark and every second he had to watch out to avoid crashing into a stack of boxes. His uniform which previously had been splattered with patterns of blood, he was now soaked in human blood from the ears down. Due to a freak accident when trying to leave the silo control room the soldiers had found him as he was walking past the corner of the corridor outside. His shotgun barrel had slammed into the face of one of them and gone off. The blood had covered every inch of the corridor and the corporal behind him. He had reacted far quicker than him and the next gunshot blew a good portion of the corporal’s shoulder away. His entire body was sticky with blood. He fell on his face when he walked straight into a pile of cardboard boxes. The boxes landed on him but they were mostly empty. The impact had however kicked the sickness from the headcrab in action again and he threw up on the cold, wet floor. The headache had grown from a headache to someone driving an ice pick through his cerebral.
He got to his feet and kept walking like a blind man through the tunnel, bumping in to more boxes and walls. He walked at full speed face first into a steel door. He grasped for a handle and turned it. The door swung open and he squinted in the bright light of the clean white corridor.
He walked down it, his eyes looking for any movement. He turned a corner and found himself in a different world.
Before lay a scene of battle. The clean white walls and the slightly greyish floors were stained with blood. A marine had gotten his arm blown away and lay in a pool of blood. The hallway was barricaded with desks and chairs. They had not held long enough. There were bullet holes all over the walls and the desks. John walked up closer to the barricade. With fists clenched he looked over the edge of the desk to see where the blood stain underneath the barricade came from.
It was a security guard, his Kevlar was torn up with holes and his arms were bleeding. He was laying next to a second guard, he had a series of wounds leading up to his neck. The blood mixed in with the other’s blood. He bent down and checked their name tags. Their names had been Mario Casali and Jeff Clisse. They had both died on their posts. He was ready to leave when he heard raised voices from far down the corridor. He grabbed his shotgun from where he had left it on the floor and slowly made his way towards the noise. He silenced his steps more and more as he heard the voices clearly. There were three of them. He finally detected the voices from inside a transit system monitoring station. He approached a closed door and peaked through the glass window.
Inside was two soldiers, one with blood across his face, both seemed as they had just been in battle, both carrying MP5s. And before them, tied to a chair, his face and his trousers covered in blood and his head leaning back to the back of the chair was a very thin-looking security guard. One of the privates raised his hand and gave the man a blow to the nose. His head jolted back and the chair fell to the floor. He hit his head on the floor and John saw a new streak of blood pouring out of his nose. The other soldier pulled the chair back up.
“Once again, where is he!” The first soldier shouted at him. He responded with a quivering voice. John could see small spits of blood fly out of his mouth when he answered.
“F-**** you…”
The man raised his hand again, this time John could see a pistol in it.
He brought down the butt hard on the soldier’s skull and John shuddered when he heard the impact.
“Tell me!” After a long pause the guards voice returnerd:
“****… you…!”
The soldier lost his patience, he dropped his MP5 to the ground and grabbed the guards throat with both hands.
“Listen here you little ****! Tell me where Dr Rosenberg is!”
“Go to hell!” The chair fell to the side when another whack from the butt of the pistol hit him. John saw a bloody tooth fall to the ground. The man cried out as the pain hit him. He was pulled back up again by the other soldier. Again he was pulled up and the interrogator put his massacred bleeding jaw in his hand and asked him calmly.
“Where is he?” The guard was drifting out of consciousness but responded very drifting like.
“I don’t know who he is…” The soldier didn’t raise his hand this time. Instead he bent down and picked up a small cage with steel bars. Like a cat cage. He held it before the man’s face and shook the cage. He gently slapped the guard on the face, making him focus on the cage in front of him. A familiar sound was heard and the cage jolted in the marine’s hand, John could see little sharp claws flash out from inside the cage.
“Oh god no… it’s… one of those things… don’t do it, don’t, no please!” He tried to get out of his restraints but the man behind him held him and the soldier asked once more:
“Where is he? Tell me!”
“I don’t who the **** Dr Rosenberg is!”
“Too bad.” He pushed the cage closer and slowly let open the door.
John gave the door a heavy tackle and it broke open. He aimed the shotgun at the soldier behind the guard and let a blast away, his head snapped out of joint by the force and a big chunk of his brain splattered across the wall. He pulled back the handle and heard the cage fall to the ground.
In slow-motion he saw the guard fall down with the headcrab on his face, he saw the cage roll on the floor and he saw the marine hurling towards him through the air. He was brought back to the normal pace of things when another shotgun blast hit the floor as the heavy private gave him a heads-on full body tackle and pushed him to the floor. He let go of his gun and started wrestling with him. For about a minute they rolled around on the floor. John tried to get a punch at the guy but he felt the cold barrel of a gun pushed against his head. He jolted upwards and rammed his forehead straight into the soldiers face. The gun fell to the floor and he managed to get out of his grip. He crawled across the floor to his shotgun and heard a scream. He raised his head and got whacked with the palm of the zombie. The monster then lifted him up in the air and gave him a free ride into the wall at the other side of the room.
He slowly got up, the world was spinning around him as he carefully took a few babysteps forwards and fell down again. He was bleeding from the forehead. Not that he could take any notice as his face was still covered in blood. He crawled over the floor towards the shotgun he had dropped when the fight started. He saw the grunt fight off the zombie and get a few shots in its torso. The zombie got mad and tried to hit him but the soldier was too well trained. He grabbed the zombie and pushed it on the floor and started bashing its head with the pistol when he ran out of ammo. The long sharp claws made terrible cuts on his arms and body but the attacks got weaker and weaker. John pulled back the handle and took aim.
With surprising speed and reaction the zombie took a leap from the floor and once again John hit the floor on his back. He quickly turned around and started inching his way towards the shotgun on the floor, dragging a zombie and a very upset US marine in the room. He closed his fingers around the slim body of the weapon and pulled it to him. He rammed it down the side of himself until he felt the barrel impact with something and he pulled the trigger. The brains and brons of the zombie blew off in all directions, John felt those parts of himself that were still clean get splashed with the disgusting disfigured entrails of the former security guard. There was a loud screaming.
He turned around and saw the soldier had fallen to his knees. The shotgun blast had hit his legs. John slowly got up and put in another shell while the marine was shouting very nasty words. He didn’t even notice him until the barrel was a foot from his face.
John pulled the trigger.
AJ Rimmer
Tank
- Joined
- Jun 12, 2004
- Messages
- 6,451
- Reaction score
- 11
Pete was feeling extremely woozy, his vision was fading into bliss. He tried to protest to the people carrying him but he didn’t have the strength to make a sound.
They were making their way through dark and damp hallways, very few lights and grey cement walls. They had passed a sign which labelled the area “Reactor Complex”. The professor had guided them a few levels up, opening security doors that required level four access, but the surface access silo doors had for some reason locked down.
After half an hour they had decided to get down to one of the local reactor housing and try to restore power and thereby escaping via either the transit train or the sewage system which had also closed down due to the lockdown. The doctor had gathered a few medical supplies and pumped Pete full of pain killers, he was in heaven for thirty minutes but now he was only dizzy. Ellis was carrying a whole bunch of equipment, a first aid kit, a Geiger counter, Pete’s 9mm, all the info he could print out on specimen six and the headcrabs in less than five minutes, an emergency shutdown chart for the reactor complex,
schematics for the coolant system and a soda.
The group of unfortunate men were steadily rushing down the corridor when the unmistakable sound of a jet fighter roaring past somewhere high above the ground. The men stopped and listened, except Pete who just thought it was his head making that annoying noise.
After a few seconds there were a series of explosions and the ground shook. Pieces of the roof came off and landed on the floor. The planes made more runs and more bombs were dropped. They kept on going anyway despite the bombing going on high above them.
They reached a section of the corridor marked with a big sign.
“Reactor A & B housing complex” There was a large set of bulkheads ahead of them. Dr Ellis walked up to the retinal scanner and the automatic voice immediately recognized that the door had been unlocked. With a loud mechanical buzzing the two enormous pieces of metal slid apart. They all stepped in into the huge control room. The entire far wall was lined with computer consoles and old-style computer banks. There was a huge cylinder running through the room, part of some enormous hydraulic system. There was a man in a white lab coat standing by the consoles.
“Excuse me? Who are you?” Dr Ellis spoke before anyone could halt him. The man in the lab coat turned around, he had blood on his clean white uniform and a gun in one hand. After the security guards lowered their shotguns they approached him.
“Hello, I’m Dr Birdwell, Supervisor, Institute for exobiology.”
“Oh I see, I’m Dr Ellis, Researcher, Examination room four.” As if it would explain something he added; “Pre-biodome and Lambda complex.”
“Ah I see, well Dr Ellis, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” The two men shook hands and the security team just stood and watched. Pete whispered to Jonathan: “Great, now there’s two of them…”
The two scientists after a while turned to the rest of the men and spoke. It seemed Dr Ellis was under the impression that he was making a speech.
“Alright everybody. This is Dr Kevin Birdwell, he’s an exobiologist, the best there is, if he can’t help us, no-one can.” The last bit he ended with a smile, without realizing the bitter irony that lay in his statement. “Doctorr?”
The thin Dr Birdwell took the stage.
“Thankyou. This,” He lay his hand on the big hydraulic pump, indicating that he was speaking about it rather than the huge nuclear facility that rested far behind the wall of data banks. “…is a 1983 fission reactor, it powers the transit system in this area, the mainframes, the lights, the silo doors and the emergency surface access bulkheads. It’s been shut down as a result of the military overriding the security systems. All we have to do is get it up and running again.” He looked proud almost, the security guards just sat their and looked at this madman.
“Once we do so, the mainframe will send signals to the rest of the facility, activating more power generators along the way, opening up more and more of the facility, up to the point in Area 6 where the power is run by another power plant. We can’t do anything about that however.” Hitchford muttered ironically what a shame that was. Jonathan raised his hand and spoke;
“Sir, wouldn’t it take less time to find another way up to the surface?”
“I doubt you could find one that the military hasn’t taken over already, but there is much more at stake here.”
“Like?”
“The most important aspect of this is the fact, that once we have restored power, all the security doors from here to the Lambda complex will activate, and then all that’s needed is for someone to send the all clear and they will open. It will also allow for the Omega satellite to be placed in orbit.” Jonathan spoke again.
“Let’s pretend anyone here understand what you’re talking about; Who is going to send the all clear and who is going to launch a satellite?”
“That’s up to the Lambda team. This is all we can do.”
“What’s the Lambda team?” Birdwell looked at Dr Ellis.
“The research team operating inside the Lambda Complex, the people responsible for this.”
“And we want them to gain access to the complex, why exactly?”
“Because they are the only people who can get us out if this mess. But in order to do that, we have to restore power to the doors and the High Altitude Launch Facility in Silo E. This will allow the Omega satellite to be launched and that will allow for someone to send the all clear, which will open the doors to the Lambda complex and let the team there do… what ever it is they’re going to do.” Hitchford raised his voice this time.
“Sir, do any of you guys know how to run a 1983 fission reactor?” Ellis nodded.
“Yes we do. Dr Birdwell is an MIT graduate in theoretical nuclear physics and I’ve helped construct the coolant system for the Lambda Complex’s power converters.”
“So you’re sure you know what you’re doing?” Birdwell answered:
“Of course… theoretically…”
They were making their way through dark and damp hallways, very few lights and grey cement walls. They had passed a sign which labelled the area “Reactor Complex”. The professor had guided them a few levels up, opening security doors that required level four access, but the surface access silo doors had for some reason locked down.
After half an hour they had decided to get down to one of the local reactor housing and try to restore power and thereby escaping via either the transit train or the sewage system which had also closed down due to the lockdown. The doctor had gathered a few medical supplies and pumped Pete full of pain killers, he was in heaven for thirty minutes but now he was only dizzy. Ellis was carrying a whole bunch of equipment, a first aid kit, a Geiger counter, Pete’s 9mm, all the info he could print out on specimen six and the headcrabs in less than five minutes, an emergency shutdown chart for the reactor complex,
schematics for the coolant system and a soda.
The group of unfortunate men were steadily rushing down the corridor when the unmistakable sound of a jet fighter roaring past somewhere high above the ground. The men stopped and listened, except Pete who just thought it was his head making that annoying noise.
After a few seconds there were a series of explosions and the ground shook. Pieces of the roof came off and landed on the floor. The planes made more runs and more bombs were dropped. They kept on going anyway despite the bombing going on high above them.
They reached a section of the corridor marked with a big sign.
“Reactor A & B housing complex” There was a large set of bulkheads ahead of them. Dr Ellis walked up to the retinal scanner and the automatic voice immediately recognized that the door had been unlocked. With a loud mechanical buzzing the two enormous pieces of metal slid apart. They all stepped in into the huge control room. The entire far wall was lined with computer consoles and old-style computer banks. There was a huge cylinder running through the room, part of some enormous hydraulic system. There was a man in a white lab coat standing by the consoles.
“Excuse me? Who are you?” Dr Ellis spoke before anyone could halt him. The man in the lab coat turned around, he had blood on his clean white uniform and a gun in one hand. After the security guards lowered their shotguns they approached him.
“Hello, I’m Dr Birdwell, Supervisor, Institute for exobiology.”
“Oh I see, I’m Dr Ellis, Researcher, Examination room four.” As if it would explain something he added; “Pre-biodome and Lambda complex.”
“Ah I see, well Dr Ellis, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” The two men shook hands and the security team just stood and watched. Pete whispered to Jonathan: “Great, now there’s two of them…”
The two scientists after a while turned to the rest of the men and spoke. It seemed Dr Ellis was under the impression that he was making a speech.
“Alright everybody. This is Dr Kevin Birdwell, he’s an exobiologist, the best there is, if he can’t help us, no-one can.” The last bit he ended with a smile, without realizing the bitter irony that lay in his statement. “Doctorr?”
The thin Dr Birdwell took the stage.
“Thankyou. This,” He lay his hand on the big hydraulic pump, indicating that he was speaking about it rather than the huge nuclear facility that rested far behind the wall of data banks. “…is a 1983 fission reactor, it powers the transit system in this area, the mainframes, the lights, the silo doors and the emergency surface access bulkheads. It’s been shut down as a result of the military overriding the security systems. All we have to do is get it up and running again.” He looked proud almost, the security guards just sat their and looked at this madman.
“Once we do so, the mainframe will send signals to the rest of the facility, activating more power generators along the way, opening up more and more of the facility, up to the point in Area 6 where the power is run by another power plant. We can’t do anything about that however.” Hitchford muttered ironically what a shame that was. Jonathan raised his hand and spoke;
“Sir, wouldn’t it take less time to find another way up to the surface?”
“I doubt you could find one that the military hasn’t taken over already, but there is much more at stake here.”
“Like?”
“The most important aspect of this is the fact, that once we have restored power, all the security doors from here to the Lambda complex will activate, and then all that’s needed is for someone to send the all clear and they will open. It will also allow for the Omega satellite to be placed in orbit.” Jonathan spoke again.
“Let’s pretend anyone here understand what you’re talking about; Who is going to send the all clear and who is going to launch a satellite?”
“That’s up to the Lambda team. This is all we can do.”
“What’s the Lambda team?” Birdwell looked at Dr Ellis.
“The research team operating inside the Lambda Complex, the people responsible for this.”
“And we want them to gain access to the complex, why exactly?”
“Because they are the only people who can get us out if this mess. But in order to do that, we have to restore power to the doors and the High Altitude Launch Facility in Silo E. This will allow the Omega satellite to be launched and that will allow for someone to send the all clear, which will open the doors to the Lambda complex and let the team there do… what ever it is they’re going to do.” Hitchford raised his voice this time.
“Sir, do any of you guys know how to run a 1983 fission reactor?” Ellis nodded.
“Yes we do. Dr Birdwell is an MIT graduate in theoretical nuclear physics and I’ve helped construct the coolant system for the Lambda Complex’s power converters.”
“So you’re sure you know what you’re doing?” Birdwell answered:
“Of course… theoretically…”
