Emerald City Blues

[acts_of_gord]

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.

Comments

[acts_of_gord]

"...."

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.

[smelltheashes]

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.

[acts_of_gord]

Right. ROCKS. FOR YOU. TO THE FACE.

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

[smelltheashes]

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!"

[acts_of_gord]

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.

[smelltheashes]

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?!"

[acts_of_gord]

"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-"

[smelltheashes]

"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.

[acts_of_gord]

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.

[smelltheashes]

"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!"

[acts_of_gord]

"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.

[smelltheashes]

"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!"

[acts_of_gord]

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?

[smelltheashes]

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...

[acts_of_gord]

"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."

[smelltheashes]

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

[acts_of_gord]

"One," says Gordon, eyeing the nearest squids and estimating which way they're likely to break. "Two-"

He aims the gravity gun for the spot he figures is most likely to kick up chaff into the squids' eyes and turn them away from the humans, even if only for a second or two.

"Three! Fire!"

[smelltheashes]

The hail of gunfire makes the oncoming bullsquids flinch momentarily, which is all the two rebels need to turn and flee.

[acts_of_gord]

The barrage of bullets is swiftly followed up by flung rocks, shells, chunks of- well, anything inorganic that Gordon can grab and flick and fling at the things to cover his own retreat. He'll sprint at an opportune moment, and it will be epic.

[smelltheashes]

The sprint continues for a few dozen yards into the brush before our heroes are convinced that the bullsquid aren't following them. Donna leans heavily against a nearby tree; Chen leans heavily against Donna.

"That? Was way too close," Donna manages once she gets her breath back.

[acts_of_gord]

"No kidding," Gordon murmurs, glancing ruefully over his shoulder. "Let's hope they stay by the shoreline. We don't need them in the streets along with everything else we might find."

[smelltheashes]

"Combine wouldn't let 'em in the city," says Chen. "Nothing gets in or out that... they..." He trails off, frowning. "Shouldn't there be some street lights on by now?"

[acts_of_gord]

"Huh?" Gordon glances up, blinking. "You know..."

It is getting darker; the rays of the setting sun are slanting heavily in from the west. There really ought to be at least some concession to the gathering dark by now.

[smelltheashes]

"Maybe this is a depopulated part of the city," offers Donna. "Or something."

"Wouldn't we have heard Striders by now, though?"

"Maybe. I dunno, I'm just spitballing..."

[acts_of_gord]

Gordon generally avoids saying things like 'it's quiet- too quiet', but when you are walking through the husks that are all that remain of your native city, and there are no lights, and there's no faint background hum of electrical transformers struggling to keep up with local demand, and no cars are stirring or planes puttering by overhead... then yes. yes, dammit, it is too quiet.

Something is very, very wrong, even by this world's standards.