acts_of_gord | Emerald City Blues

Emerald City Blues

Gordon's unvoiced fears about his suit's weight to the contrary, the Aperture Science Emergency Vehicular Evacuation Vehicle neither punctured nor sank when he got in. The small inflatable may be the single safest and most reliable non-lethal device Aperture has ever produced, which of course probably means it was originally intended for something else.

He's trying not to think about that, though. They're quietly puttering closer to the shore, and very soon they'll have to get out. Unfortunately, right now Gordon is remembering one of the History Channel specials his father was so fond of in those rare times when Bill Freeman was actually at home. It was, he recalls, the life of Douglas MacArthur.

He's not going to say 'I have returned' when he gets out of the boat. He's not.

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Donna is seated at the stern of the little raft, steering them toward shore. She's not exactly at ease either. "I really hope there aren't any antlions here..."

"Nah, it's too humid here," says Chen dismissively. "The worst we'd get would be bullsquid nesting on the shoreline."

"There used to be seals here," Gordon murmurs. "They'd come up on the beaches..."

He shakes his head; between the dinosharks, the huge leeches, and the bullsquids, he doubts there are seals left much of anywhere except possibly the high Arctic. Xen didn't strike him as a place likely to evolve cold climate species.

"I'll keep an eye out for bullsquid."

"We all will. Trust me."

They're perhaps fifty yards out from shore now. The beach is composed of more rocks than sand, and is backed by what might have been a city park once upon a time but is now an overgrown mess of weeds and long grass.

It's hard to tell in the rapidly fading light, but there might be movement in among the rocks...

And here's Gordon with no actual firearms; whatever he might've acquired from the Combine got dropped for lack of an equipment harness back at Abrams Island. Dang.

Well, there are rocks the size of a man's head up ahead. And the gravity gun has a pretty good grab range. Whatever's moving, if it isn't Terran in origin, is going to get smacked just as soon as he can get a clear line of sight on it.

The Aperture Science Emergency Vehicular Evacuation Vehicle finally runs aground, and its passengers disembark. This particular part of the beach, at least, is free of Xen fauna. What it does have is barnacles--the ordinary, Earth-native, non-human-eating kind--going crunch underfoot with every step. Looks like a stealthy approach isn't an option.

Well, at least something seems to have survived of Earth origin. That counts for a bit in Gordon's book.

He's going to make a stab at moving forward as irregularly as he can, in the hopes that a noise with no particular rhythm to it doesn't register as human footsteps. Then again, he is sort of dressed in signal-flare orange and grey. Still, the spirit's there.

The fact that there are three people moving along the beach, each with a different stride length, might help to camouflage the sound.

The set of footsteps belonging to Chen suddenly stops. "Shit--!" He grabs Gordon by the collar and hauls the physicist back before he can take another step.

Gordon flails for a moment, but regains his balance swiftly. Falling down with the gravity gun in hand? Not a good idea. "What the- what?"

Chen silently points down to where Gordon had been about to step.

Huddled together in a depression in the ground are five small creatures, each the size of a largish cat or a smallish dog. Their skins are a mottled yellow-green, and their eyes seem to be sealed shut, but there's no mistaking them for anything but bullsquid.

"...."

Those are babies. Altricial babies, if he's seeing the eyes correctly.

This is the part where he starts looking around very very swiftly for the mother.

He won't have to look for very long. There's a familiar roar from somewhere off to their left, and the sound of something very large and very angry charging toward them on two hoofed feet.

Right. ROCKS. FOR YOU. TO THE FACE.

... yelling for help is something that happens to other people.

Donna and Chen both open fire, but the enraged mother bullsquid scarcely seems to notice the various projectiles striking her body. When she does finally keel over, her momentum sends the corpse sliding into the pit on top of her offspring. The calves squirm madly, letting out cries halfway between the squeal of a pig and the yowl of a cat in heat.

Answering cries echo from all the way up and down the beach--some from other babies, and some from adults.

"Ohhhh shit..." Chen blanches. "RUN!"

No need to tell him twice. Gordon bolts- and grabs up the nearest available rock, log, rebar, or other debris as he passes. Face facts, he's better armored and better protected than these two, so if anyone's going to take the acid spit and come out okay, it's going to be him. Someone's got to slow the damn things down as they run.

One could hardly have picked a worse place to beat a hasty retreat. The rocks underfoot are all but tailor-made for twisting an ankle, and that's in good lighting. And God only knows what's lurking in the brush up ahead.

Still, it beats the alternative.

"How many of these things are there??" cries Donna, alternating between running and firing her SMG. "I thought they couldn't stand to be near each other! Why are they all in one place?!"

"Crocodiles used to-" Gordon's having a hell of a time not placing an armored foot wrong, but he didn't manage the trails above the rivers at Black Mesa just to lose an ankle now. "-have breeding grounds- lots of giant mother predators in one place-" He grabs up another rock and flings it as hard as the gravity gun will allow. "-nasty bastards, like these-"

"Glad to know someone's biology knowledge is--AAAAAAIIIIGH!" Chen lets out a particularly girlish and high-pitched scream as his feet slide out from under him.

Gordon's heard enough of those screams from guards and scientists to last him a lifetime. Without a word he darts forward, doing his best to brace the gravity gun in its harness long enough for him to grab whichever of Chen's arms he can and get the man back on his feet.

"Chen!" Donna rushes to the fallen man's other side. "Are you okay??"

"'m fine," he grunts. "Keep firing."

"But your foot--"

"I said keep firing! They're right on top of us!"

"Can you stand?" Gordon asks tersely. He'd say more, but a, this is Gordon, and b, talking while grabbing and punting rocks at maddened bullsquids would distract anyone from either task. And he'd rather not die. So.

"Yeah--" Chen winces and wobbles a little, but remains upright. "Yeah, I'm okay."

"Are you sure? I can help you--"

"Dammit, Donna," snaps Chen as he empties the clip of the pulse rifle into the nearest bullsquid, "this is not the time!"

This is a bad, bad place to make a stand. And as far as Gordon can tell, over open ground a bullsquid can outrun a man in any sort of mad dash. They haven't got cover or fortification here, and they haven't got the ammo to hold off an entire beach's worth of the damn things- where is the nearest path out of here? And how fast can they bolt for it if he switches on the suit lights and lights up the way?

The beach gives way to grass and weeds a few yards behind their current position. It's not really a path, per se, but there's a gap in the growth a little to the south...

"Chen. Donna," Gordon says, snatching up the largest rock the gravity gun will lift with any kind of speed. "On three, spray everything on their leading edge, enough to slow them down. Then make your break south. I'll buy what time I can and come in on your rear."

Donna looks at Chen, who shrugs. "You heard the man."

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