We Don't Go To Ravenholm- Oh Wait, Looks Like We Do

[acts_of_gord]

The Milliways portal door is a capricious, fickle thing. It had opened for Gordon earlier when he'd tripped over the charred, blackened remains of a lurking zombie while firing a sawblade into its still-mobile companion. Then it'd gone and opened again, back to Ravenholm, just as he was leaning forward to check and see whether the zombie that'd loomed over him before had gone.

The blade had flown true and eradicated the zombie threat, but in the moonlight that trickled through the cracks in the boarded-up window and badly patched roof, Gordon could see he still wasn't alone...

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[acts_of_gord]

"Better than where we are now," says Gordon. "Wait-"

There's enough breathing room for him to yank his crowbar free and offer it to her.

"Headcrabs like dark, narrow spaces. Don't let one catch you by surprise."

[raptorcanaria]

"Thanks," Dinah says, taking the crowbar with one hand and testing its weight shortly.

She glances around quickly and heads through, into a wider, open plaza.

With a zombie in it.

[smelltheashes]

And not just any zombie, either. The ones pursuing them had been still sort of human-shaped, for all their missing parts. The skinless ones were... well, about what you'd expect for a moving corpse with neither skin nor much muscle mass left. This one is bent low, its knuckles nearly brushing the cobblestones. What little of its skin is visible is a repulsively bloated reddish-purple, mottled like a livid bruise. And the black thing covering what used to be its head isn't alone; there are at least three or four more of them clinging to the creature, studding its back like pustules about to erupt.

With a wet snuffling noise it turns in Dinah's direction and tears one of the black headcrabs loose from its torso.

[raptorcanaria]

Dinah moves fast, bring the crowbar up to bat the incoming crab away like a baseball.

But not fast enough. The bar misses entirely amnd the crab lands on Dinah's upper arm. She inhales sharply through her teeth, drops the crowbar and yanks the crab off to throw it away.

She doesn't need a helpful voice to tell her about neurotoxins, though. She crumples to the floor, gasping in pain.

[acts_of_gord]

"Dinah!"

Gordon hasn't got the time to run over and check her yet- the zombie's pulling another crab free. Thankfully, Father Grigori has excellent taste in shotguns; this one holds six shells at a time.

Plus it fires two shells at a time if Gordon pulls the appropriate trigger. Which is good, because that purple-and-black son of a bitch takes no less than three direct hits before it staggers and plummets to the ground, facecrab first.

It might be Gordon's imagination, but it sounded like the thing chuckled right before it died.

Now he runs over to Dinah's side. "Can you hear me?" he asks, and reaches to her neck to see if she still has a pulse.

[raptorcanaria]

Dinah's pulse is raising, fortunately enough. She's curled up in a foetal position, sweat and tears pouring down her face as her breaths come in gasps.

When he speaks to her, she gives a shallow nod and tries to move - to get up.

Her entire body feels like it's peeling away from her bones, but they've got to keep moving.

[acts_of_gord]

Gordon glances away a moment and spots the church; it's on the other side of a fence and a sharp drop in the landscape, but there's a set of thick cables overhead that look suspiciously like they're intended to hold up a trolley of some kind. Father Grigori probably left some kind of supplies in the building they're attached to.

"Stay where you are."

Gordon's not known for being gentle, but he knows exactly what this feels like, and he wouldn't wish it on anyone. They can afford a few moments' delay for him to pick Dinah up, assuming Father Grigori left any of the healing solutions in the building. If he didn't-

-he'll think about that later. He's got to get her inside first.

[raptorcanaria]

"Mmmm." Dinah says. She's trying to move but she's not getting very far. Instead she manages to grab onto him, tight.

"'M fine."

She's really not.

[acts_of_gord]

"Good. Stay that way," says Gordon; he can hear howls in the distance, coming in over the rooftops. The faster he shoulders that building's door open, the happier he'll be. "And stay awake until we can find something to counteract that venom!"

If he has to get out of his suit to put her in it for an antidote-

Oh, thank the pitiless and impersonal forces of chance and entropy, Father Grigori did leave a couple of medkits in here, under the stairs. Gordon quails a little at the thought of having to make it up three floors' worth of stairs to get to the roof, but he needn't have worried- there's an old cargo elevator on the opposite wall. "Okay," he says, cracking open the first white box. "Dinah, I need you to swallow this stuff for me. It's nasty, but it saved my skin more times than I can count. Keep going until there's no more left."

He hands her the first green cylinder, its top already pried off, and starts jamming the elevator button with his thumb as if repeated punchings could make it go faster.

[raptorcanaria]

It's more effort than Dinah is willing to accept, just opening her mouth to take the stuff, but at least she can't really taste it. Her mouth, like everywhere else, hurts too much.

Gasping, she takes a couple of sips, then downs the rest at increasingly fast speed.

When it's gone, she's coughing in distaste.

"That is nasty."

[acts_of_gord]

Gordon smiles grimly. "Sorry," he says. "That's not Earth chemistry there. The important thing is that it works."

Well, that and the elevator's arrived. He'll help her in if need be.

[raptorcanaria]

He doesn't need to: or Dinah won't admit that he needs to. She stands up extra straight and walks in, leaning on the wall inside as the only outside indication that she still kind of wants to throw up.

"I do not like those crab things."

[acts_of_gord]

"Don't blame you," Gordon says, thumping a fist against the 'send us up now' button. As the elevator lurches upwards he notes, "They don't even taste all that good. The non-poisonous ones, anyway."

[raptorcanaria]

"You've eaten them?"

Dinah blanches, mostly because the lurching of the elevator doesn't feel so hot right now.

"Stuck for food?"

[acts_of_gord]

"Alien species've overrun most of Earth's arable land, at least in the areas humans can still reach," Gordon says grimly. "There aren't that many domesticated species left to farm."

As the elevator arrives at the roof he adds, "Tastes like raisins."

Outside the clouds have drifted over the moon. The church is lit up by spotlights; Father Grigori is standing next to a generator. He calls up to them, "Ah, there you are! At last! I will send the cart for you both."

As the device lurches into life and begins to make its painfully slow way along the cables, a nearby drainpipe- you know, the kind that runs from the roof to the ground three or four stories below- rattles ominously.

"It will be but a moment!" Father Grigori calls. "Guard yourselves well!"

Gordon very briefly looks as if he would like to swear. Instead he says to Dinah, "I'll hold them off. Get ready to jump in the second it arrives."

[raptorcanaria]

"Right," Dinah says, stubbornly readying herself to fight or run, whichever is needed. But she intends to fight. She dropped the crowbar down below, but she flexes her hands in preparation.

[smelltheashes]

It's not as if she has a choice. The cart is coming, yes, but it's moving perilously slowly- and there are three, perhaps four, of the skinless horrors clambering up the pipe. The first one gets a shotgun blast to the head, but the second leaps past its fallen comrade and lets out a hideous bray.

[raptorcanaria]

Dinah doesn't give it enough time to finsh making that noise. She travels forward to deliver a firm Gastrizein and throw it off the roof.

She's not at 100%, but she can still fight.

[acts_of_gord]

Gordon would give her a thumbs-up if he didn't need both hands right at the moment. "Two more coming," he says, "and I'm getting my crowbar back before we go."

He glances up to the rooftops as a distant zombie howls.

"That cart better be almost here."

[raptorcanaria]

"Get it now," Dinah suggests. "I'll hold them."

She does so when they arrive by kicking the one zombie at the other to make them both fall.

[acts_of_gord]

No time for the nod. Gordon shoves the shotgun under one arm- he's going to have to work up a better arrangement when he gets the chance- and locks the gravity gun onto the slip of red and steel just barely visible on the stones below.

The skinless things, for all their speed and unnerving grace, really aren't very well balanced. A good shotgun butt to the head would probably knock them down. A properly trained foot, now, that's something else. Those two zombies will be hitting the cobblestones hard enough to break things...

There's a creak and a thump, and Father Grigori calls out, "Now, brother step into the cart! The handbrake- release it, and come down!"

Gordon glances at Dinah and makes a 'ladies first' gesture. It's motivated more by the sight of the headcrab bite on her arm than any particular gender chivalry, for whatever that's worth.

[raptorcanaria]

It doesn't stop Dinah from giving him an annoyed expression, but she's annoyed at still not feeling well rather than any particular gender chivalry, for what that's worth.

After stepping into the cart she leans against the side, one hand resting on her stomach.

[acts_of_gord]

"Not much further," Gordon murmurs, and does his best to avoid shaking the cart unnecessarily when he clambers in.

The ride back is a little faster than the ride over had been, and ends with the cart jarring to a halt just over an impromptu staircase made of cargo crates. Father Grigori sets his gun aside and steps up to offer a hand down. "Greetings to the both of you!" the priest says. "And so we meet at last. You have done well, the both of you."

"My companion's been bitten," Gordon says, indicating Dinah with a jerk of his head. "Any chance you've got medical supplies on hand?"

"But of course," says Father Grigori, who's squinting a little. "Sister, this way, if you will. I have seen to such injuries before."

He indicates the door of the church. Gordon offers an inobtrusive arm if she needs it.

[raptorcanaria]

She takes Grigori's hand down, but not Gordon's arm, whether she needs it or not, and walks carefully but proudly as she follows the Father, glancing arund with interest

She has a lot of questions, but no idea if they'd mark her out as an offworlder or not, so she doesn't ask them.

[smelltheashes]

"You are to be commended for avoiding my traps," Father Grigori notes with an expression equally pleased and rueful. "The work of a man who once had too much time on his hands, and now finds time for nothing but the work of salvation."

The church itself's been emptied of most of its seating. Not gutted, as that would imply things being torn off the walls and generally ripped apart. It still bears more than a few of the flourishes that mark Eastern Orthodox churches: the intricate metalwork altar screen covered in icons, the wall about halfway down the center aisle with symbolic doors in either side, the stained-glass windows through which the moon is just beginning to shine again...