acts_of_gord | (no subject)

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Barney pulls the bridge shut almost as soon as Gordon touches down in the building across the road. They've just come from apartments in foul condition, but this building's suffered more; the holes in the walls are enormous, and the floor feels as if it might give way at any moment. Some previous Resistance member took the precaution of bridging the gap between this building and the next with a length of metal walkway. It's very thoughtful of them, but Gordon can't help but wish he still had his old long-jump module. That's just not solid-looking enough for him.

That, and he can hear the whirring, thupping sound of oncoming rotors from somewhere very close by indeed.

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Alyx tenses at the sound, but the gunship doesn't appear to have noticed the two anticitizens yet, and glides past with nary a pause.

"C'mon, let's keep moving--"

"Fine by me."

The next room over is just a closet, but there's a stairwell close at hand, which is fine with Gordon. Barney did say they needed to get across the rooftops, after all.

An angry screee! sound is all the warning he gets of the two headcrabs lurking just around the turn. Fortunately, the crowbar Barney's given him does a very good job of smacking the wretched little monsters into the wall.

He might want something with a bit more range for the poison headcrabs lurking around the corner, though. Alyx sure does.

Yeeeeeeah. That would be shotgun time, right there- damn this narrow hallway, anyway, he's only able to aim for one of them at a time-

"Look out!" Alyx shouts, firing on the next one in line as it leaps.

!!

The shiny black headcrab lets out a scream like a strangled cat before falling over, legs twitching in the air. It takes Gordon a moment after it falls silent to realize his ear is still hurting; he reaches up to touch it, and his fingers come away red.

"... I think that was you," he says a bit weakly.

Edited 2008-12-14 20:48 (UTC)

Alyx cringes. "Shit, it was, I'm sorry--are you okay?"

"I think so. It was just a graze."

And it's not like everything doesn't hurt already anyway. The suit ran out of morphine (or whatever it claims is morphine; Gordon has his doubts) a long time ago.

"I'll patch it up later. Let's keep going."

"Right."

The next turn of the corner leads them back out into the open again, albeit with a few Combine and Zombine in the way. After rushing across another drawbridge, dodging fire the whole way, they find themselves in a relatively intact building with bare hospital bedframes scattered about the wide hallways.

"Hey, a hospital! Keep an eye out for medical supplies, we're gonna need 'em."

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.

It seems that the Overwatch have already infiltrated the building, and are busy fighting their zombified colleagues. Not so busy that they don't turn and fire on Alyx and Gordon, of course; that would be too easy.

On top of it all, Alyx can see trip lasers crisscrossing the room ahead. "Think you can set off those tripmines from here?" Alyx calls over her shoulder as she ducks behind a support column for cover.

Gordon doesn't say anything in response. This is because tripmines + zombies + zombines + regular combine = the perfect excuse to huck a grenade down the hallway just as hard as he can.

There's still a few gorbling horrors left when the smoke clears, but the tripmines are gone- and there's a lot of corpses that won't be getting up again.

The remaining necrotics are swiftly dispatched.

"I'm starting to think we're not going to find a lot of medicine here," Alyx murmurs as she drops the spent magazine out of her gun.

"Probably been raided already." Gordon does his best to wipe his forehead on the back of one arm, but the HEV suit isn't really designed to do that. The blood and ash will just have to stay where it is. "We'd better keep moving anyway."

There's a few side rooms that probably housed patience once, but they're all thoroughly unremarkable. The only exit from the area is a short flight of stairs leading upwards once again... well, okay, that's the right direction if nothing else. Gordon checks to make sure he's got as much ammo as he can handle and loads up his pulse rifle before heading that way.

The bad news is, the rumble of the gunship's propeller can be heard just above the crumbling rooftop overhead.

The good news is, there's a rocket launcher propped up against the far wall...

And the floor looks like it hasn't seen maintenance since before the coming of the Combine. Great, just great.

But then again, neither had the bridge...

"Alyx," Gordon says quietly, "find somewhere load-bearing and reinforced, and stay there. I'm going to take that thing down."

He waits for her answer as he makes ready to run.

Alyx nods mutely and slides down through a gap in the floor to the lower level of the attic space. The walls there are made of brick instead of wood and likely to last longer.

Good luck, Gordon.

Edited 2008-12-14 22:13 (UTC)

The floor shatters into splinters around him as he bolts; if the first shot from the gunship hadn't revealed one of the studs that held up the floor in the first place, he'd have fallen in an instant. As it stands it's raining shingles and worse when he reaches the far wall. The gunship isn't about to give up its target just because it's under a roof, after all.

Whoever had left the rocket launcher here had been planning on making a last stand; there's a crate of... hm. Ten rockets. In Gordon's experience, it takes seven hits to bring one of those things down. The message is clear: finish the fight here, or you die.

Right, then.

He loads up the launcher, and crouches in silence as he waits for the gunship to come back for another pass.

The gunship swings in tight loops around the hospital roof, punching hole after hole in the ceiling between it and Anticitizen One. With every hit, it's better able to track the orange-suited figure below. Unfortnately, Gordon is also better able to track it.

( You have to learn to pace yourself )
As long as he can paste it with the targeting laser-
( You're just like everybody else )
-well, as long as he can keep the targeting laser just outside its tracking system's ability to follow-
( You've only had to run so far, so good )
-and not send the rocket to impact on the roof because a flinch two steps to the side put the target laser on one of the few pieces of intact roof remaining-
( But you will come to a place where the only thing you feel )
He'd overheard someone back at the safehouse asking someone else if they were there when Cubbage took down the gunship. He hadn't bothered to say anything; what did it matter? The important thing was that the gunship died, no matter who got the credit.
( Are loaded guns in your face )
And this one is going to die- starting with the first rocket to slam into its sides, just like that.
( And you'll have to deal with pressure... )

( You used to call me paranoid )
The Synth's cry of pain sounds like a bull elephant on quaaludes.
( But even you cannot avoid )
It whirls madly in the air, trying to shoot the projectiles out of the sky before they strike its body.
( You turned the tap dance into your crusade )

Good. Good. Time to reload. It gives the thing time to retarget Gordon while there's no rocket in the sky, but that can't be helped.
( Now here you are with your faith and your Peter Pan advice )
It's the most demented child's game in the world. If you can see it, it can see you. Even with the laser Gordon can't fire and forget, because if the beam crosses any other object before reaching the gunship the rocket will divert course to the point where the beam terminates. And he hasn't got anywhere near enough rockets to waste one on the roof.
( You have no scars on your face )
If there is anything or anyone else in the world right now, he's forgotten it. What matters, the only thing that matters, is taking that damned synth out of the sky. And if that means getting hit, well, so be it.
( And you cannot handle pressure... )
There's room. He fires again- and again, as soon as he has the space and the line of sight.

( All grown up and no place to go )
The irony is, that means that Gordon and his opponent are operating on almost the same level.
( Psych 1, Psych 2, what do you know? )
The Synths known to the Resistance as 'gunships' were once creatures akin to whales--aquatic filter-feeders with a complex social structure but only the barest beginnings of sapience. Then the Combine invated and turned them into living, airborne tanks, all traces of sentience stripped away and replaced with the programming needed to track a moving target and destroy it.
( All your life is Channel 13 )
The gunship has no memory, no capacity for abstract thought, no real emotion beyond the recognition of pleasure and pain.
( Sesame Street, what does it mean? )
All it knows is that the creature below is an enemy and needs to die.
( I'll tell you what it means )

( Don't ask for help, you're all alone )
The fourth rocket goes astray; Gordon had to dodge a falling chunk of rooftop, and it sent the rocket flying wide enough for the gunship to blow it out of the sky. Gordon swears under his breath and grabs for the next one.
( You'll have to answer to your own )
The fifth very nearly suffers the same fate. Gordon manages to wrench it back on course just shy of the gunship's countermeasures, and sends it where it belongs- into the thing's broad, segmented back, for another direct explosion.
( I'm sure you'll have some cosmic rationale )
As the gunship bobs out of sight for a moment Gordon glances around through the holes in the floor. He can't see Alyx. If he's lucky, that's a good thing. He can't spare her more thought than that, though, it's rising again...
( But here you are )
Again he fires, and this time scrambles sideways along the beam that's virtually all that remains of the floor. The rocket zigzags through the sky before diving in towards the gunship- and smashing into a nearby building just shy of its target.
( In the ninth )
Gordon is not a man given to swearing, but that was his sixth rocket of ten, and it takes seven direct hits from these rockets to bring a gunship down. Sometimes more. If this doesn't work-
( Two men out and three men on )
The gunship's fire tears open another section of the roof. It's an opportunity. He'll take it; he fires again.
( Nowhere to look )
A hit, a very palpable hit! Reload, fire-
( But inside )
There's smoke pouring from the thing now, even as it swings around to bring its guns to bear on Gordon. The only way he's even the least bit sure of where its central mass is, is by the flashes of light through the smoke as it opens fire. As the remaining attic structures start to disintegrate, he looses another rocket, reloads...
( Where we all respond to pressure... )
And fires, desperately hoping that he doesn't have to use that one last rocket.

There is nothing on this or any other Earth that sounds like a gunship's death-cry.

The creature plummets downard in a plume of smoke and fire as its mechanical parts overload and explode one by one. Finally, with a sickening CRUNCH and a hail of splintered wood, it crashlands against the rafters mere inches above Gordon's head.