Gordon Freeman

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.

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"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...

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Yeah. About those windows. Specifically, the one on the far left.

Someone give Gordon something to drink, because he looks like he's about to do a spit-take.

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Dinah looks, and snorts in laughter.

It doesn't settle her stomach, but once she'sstarted she just carries on giggling.

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"I'm a reasonable man, Father," Gordon finally says in a slightly strangled tone, "so I know I'm not seeing this window."

"Hmm?" Father Grigori was too busy retrieving a full medkit- the green vial, some bandages, some painkillers- to notice. "Ah, yes. A reasonable man, perhaps. But these have not been reasonable times for many years, brother."

Gordon claps a hand over his face and tries very hard to pretend that none of this is happening.

"You will forgive me for not knowing you at first sight, of course. I had- aheh- other things on my mind." Grigori gestures to Dinah's arm. "Is that your only injury, sister, or is there other hurt that needs tending?"

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"That's it," Dinah says, tearing at her sleeve to make the hole wider and give him better access.

"It's a great likeness, Gordon."

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"I have no idea how they got that. I've never even been to this part of the world," Gordon mutters.

Father Grigori laughs, a small pale cousin of his booming outdoor cackle. "Your reputation precedes you, brother!" he says, cleaning the bite mark out. "What happened at Black Mesa could not be kept silent. A light hidden under a basket may still shine out through the cracks."

"So you... it..." Gordon shakes his head. "You realize I'm only human, right?"

"So? So were they," says Father Grigori simply, indicating a somewhat more prominent window. "We all do the work appointed to us. Some of us-" He offers Dinah the painkillers as he starts bandaging the arm. "-take on the greater burden, that is all."

Gordon is starting to wonder if the good Father would take it the wrong way if he started pounding his head against one of the church walls.

"Now, sister," says Father Grigori, "do you require anything else? I suspect you do not wish to stay in Ravenholm; I will lead you to the mines, when you are ready."

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"I'm fine," Dinah insists, swallowing the painkillers hurriedly and flexing her arm through the bandage.

Having someone else patch her up is as bad as being bitten itself.

"Will you come with us?"

She doesn't like leaving him on his own.

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Father Grigori shakes his head. "Thank you, sister, but no. A shepherd must tend to his flock... Especially when they have grown unruly."

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"We should go then," says Gordon. "We're headed for the coast."

Father Grigori nods. "I know the way," he says. "Watch yourselves in the mines, and move quickly. The tunnel you wish to take is trapped to prevent things from escaping, but I think you can handle yourselves."

Gordon nods and looks to Dinah. "Ready?"

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Dinah, feeling a little better for the cleaner wound, nods.

"Let's do this. Thank you, Father."

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"You are welcome," says Father Grigori. "Now, come. And tread softly, for we pass through hallowed ground."

Namely, the graveyard. Which looks peaceful enough at first, but this is an old town and an old church, and that means many dead; and it's not long before the zombies start staggering out of the shadows.

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Dinah almost sighs.

But then she doesn't have time for emotions, because she's launching herself at the first few, striking out quickly with fists and feet and keeps them as far back as possible.

So much for treading softly.

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Father Grigori doesn't sigh himself, but there's a brief moment of regret visible on his face in the moonlight. Then, of course, he's firing into the staggering horrors that used to be the people of Ravenholm and shouting, "The grave holds nothing worse for you, my child! Return to your true form!"

Gordon doesn't say anything. He's too busy firing on anything that comes up on their rear. But his is an approving silence, if that helps at all?

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Nobody can really say just how long it takes to battle across the graveyard to the equipment shed at the far end. It's probably best not to think too much on that time anyway. Gordon's got enough experience with this sort of thing to know there are patches of time you don't want to remember in too much detail.

But they reach the shed eventually, and Father Grigori hastens to unlock the gate to the mines. "Farewell, the both of you," says the priest, glancing towards the graveyard proper. "I fear I deliver you to a darker place. May the Light of Lights be with you. Look to your own salvation."

He steps back into the shadows, one hand raised in benediction. It doesn't last long, as he needs both hands to work his gun.

"This way," says Gordon as Father Grigori fires. "The faster we're out of here the better."

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There's almost a temptation to plough through the crowd on her own, but Dinah stays close to the two men. She concentrates on the combat, only peripherally aware of the gunshots and hoping no one manages to shoot her.

She's already decided she prefers fighting muggers. At least they fight back.

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Maybe next time she winds up here by mistake, she'll find herself in City 17. Not so much muggers, but Civil Protection- masked thugs who have a daily beating quota and serve oppressive alien masters. They deserve a good beatdown.

At least there's no zombies where they're going; the building they slip into has several working generators that illuminate an extremely precarious descent into a mineshaft, but there's no sight nor sound of zombies anywhere below. Gordon considers what he can see before looking up. "Dinah," he says, "I didn't mean to drag you into this. The door to Milliways opened up on me without warning. It might happen again. If we get separated, I'll look for you- but if the door opens and I'm not there, you'd better take it. I don't know how often it's likely to happen again."

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Dinah doesn't look altogether happy about leaving him, and opens her mouth with the intention of saying so.

"Let's stay together," she says instead. "Otherwise I guess Milliways is a good enough meeting place."

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"I did say if," Gordon points out with something that might almost be a smile. "Fury'd kill me if he found out I deliberately separated from somebody who wound up in my world by mistake. Not to mention Valerie's reaction."

That being said, he starts picking his way down the mineshaft. The ladder is... let's just say it's a typical former Iron Curtain country's idea of a sop to safety regulations, neglected for many years, so the trip down is slow going. There's a raised platform- no, a raised walkway- directly under the shaft's far end... which is probably just as well, since Dinah will start hearing and seeing pretty soon that the floor of the tunnel is alive with headcrabs.

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"Oh," is Dinah's succinct reaction to that sight. "Crap."

She puts a hand out again for the crowbar and gives Gordon a meaningful look. "I vote for running for it."

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Gordon hands over the crowbar without a further word, then undoes the duct-tape loop on his belt that holds a gun she won't have seen him use before. This many headcrabs, he wants full automatic fire and the possibility of canister grenades. "Three," he says, taking aim at an oil barrel in the opposite direction from the one they plan to go. "Two. One-"

As the BRRRABOOOM! of the barrel's explosion sends headcrab parts flying everywhere, they bolt. "Keep an eye out for barnacle tongues!" he shouts as they run. "Anything hanging from the ceiling might be trying to kill you- they're really common these days!"

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"Got it!" Dinah shouts back. She glances up at the ceiling once then focuses forward to really sprint, trying to block out the noise of that many headcrabs dying horribly.

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There's nothing on the ceiling just yet, thankfully. And the headcrabs are screaming with animal rage to a degree that might block out the death noises. The spidery-legged ones present the most problems; they're faster than the black ones or the ones that look like bloated ticks, and they leap without warning. Gordon is mostly firing at them as they flee through the twisty tunnels.

It's not until they come to a gap too wide for a human to jump that this becomes a problem. Gordon looks as if he'd like to swear at the sight, but says nothing; instead he peers over the edge. "Water," he says tersely. "It's got a current- it's flowing somewhere. And I think I see light in the distance. Can you swim?"

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"Yeah," Dinah assures him, tugging at her sweater. It's already ruined, and will just slow her down. It only takes a second to pull it off anyway.

"Deep enough to dive?"

It had better be, because she's diving.

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