Gordon Freeman

Gordon nods, testing the next doors to come to hand. He'd just as soon avoid having to bash them open, after all. The first few've been locked or barricaded, but there's one at the end of the hallway that opens easily enough- onto a double-width corridor, outside whose windows a gunship is rising even as he flattens himself against the wall...

The sound of gunfire's coming from somewhere around the bend- and the groaning of zombies. They're going to need those medical supplies soon.