(no subject)
Gravel sprayed everywhere as the buggy's wheels suddenly realized Gordon had pulled the handbrake lever. The buggy fishtailed to a stop; Gordon didn't much notice. He was too busy looking for some sign of human presence. There'd been Combine holed up near the last thumper, and the fighting had slowed him down. The settlement- New Little Odessa, wasn't it?- looked deserted, but at least it didn't look destroyed. . .
( We met as soul mates on Parris Island )
Something scuffed against a rock at the edge of his hearing. Gordon whipped around, shotgun in hand. An older man in a dingy, once-white jacket peered out at him from behind a half-wrecked cargo van. "Gordon Freeman?" the man said warily. Gordon nodded. "Hurry up and get to the cellar! We're expecting gunships any minute now."
( We left as inmates from an asylum )
"How many?" Gordon asked. He slid the gun back into its loop on the duct tape harness.
( And we were sharp, as sharp as knives / And we were so gung ho to lay down our lives )
"We don't know. Colonel Cubbage just managed to pick up the signal before it cut off."
( We came in spastic like tameless horses / We left in plastic as numbered corpses )
Nobody had mentioned a Colonel Cubbage back at the shorepoint installation, but Gordon nodded anyway. The man in the white jacket gestured to stairs leading under a nearby building- the one, Gordon realized, that he'd seen the Bastard in- and added, "He'll be glad to see you made it, that's for sure."
( And we learned fast to travel light / Our arms were heavy but our bellies were tight )
Before Gordon could say anything, the man had run off. Someone was speaking below, though; it had the sound of a briefing. He slipped down the stairs quietly and into the cellar, where a man, a woman, and a Vortigaunt were attentively listening to an Englishman. "-steerable rocket launcher is our best bet for taking down a gunship," the man said.
( We had no home front, we had no soft soap / They sent us Playboy, they gave us Bob Hope )
As the Vortigaunt glanced Gordon's way, the Englishman noticed his arrival. "Ah! Hello, I'll be right with you," he said. "Now- where was I? Ah, yes. The laser steering system. Using the laser guide, you can steer your rocket past the gunship defenses, like so, and make a direct hit. The first few will only anger it, of course. But if you can survive long enough to make several such hits, you will be rewarded with a prize worthy of any mantelpiece."
( We dug in deep and shot on sight / And prayed to Jesus Christ with all our might )
Gordon didn't know Vortigaunt expressions well enough yet to say what the alien might think of the speech, but the two humans looked more than a little bit skeptical of the prospect. The Englishman- a short, stout man with a fussy little mustache and knitted cap- seemed not to notice as he said, "Now. Who's going to be the lucky one to carry it into combat?"
( We had no cameras to shoot the landscape / We passed the hash pipe and played our Doors tapes )
No one said anything, but the humans' eyes slid over to Gordon. As for the Vortigaunt, it silently pointed one clawed finger Gordon's way in a gesture any human child would recognize as "not it!"
( And it was dark, so dark at night )
Before Gordon could say a word, the Englishman's eyes lit up. "Ah, yes! Gordon Freeman. I couldn't have asked for a finer volunteer."
( And we held on to each other )
Silently wishing mass infestations of small biting insects on the lot of them- what would you have done if I wasn't here?- Gordon stepped forward and accepted the launcher. The Englishman bowed. "Colonel Odessa Cubbage at your service," he said.
( Like brother to brother )
Somewhere up above, a klaxon sounded. "GUNSHIP!" somebody hollered. Cubbage's breath hissed between his teeth. "Damn!" he said. "You'd better get up there, Freeman. Just let me send a warning to Lighthouse Point, and I'll come right up and lend a hand!"
( We promised our mothers we'd write )
Gordon eyed the man's back- Cubbage hadn't even waited for an answer before rushing for the radio equipment- and allowed himself a huff of annoyance. Beyond that there was no point in hiding any longer, so he scooped as many rockets as he could manage off the nearby table and made for the stairs.
( And we would all go down together / We said we'd all go down together / Yes we would all go down together )
( Remember Charlie? Remember Baker? )
The air was filled with fire and a reek like nothing on Earth. Bits of the- thing- were still falling on all sides, flaming down to flecks of ash along the way. Gordon couldn't seem to catch his breath. The chopper back in the canals had been hard enough, but this! The gunship had flowed, pouring from place to place through the sky like some malevolent sea creature after its prey. And the noise it had made as it died. . .
( They left their childhood on every acre )
"Dr. Freeman?" A woman wearing the medic's cross on her arm eyed him worriedly. "Are you all right?"
( And who was wrong? And who was right? / It didn't matter in the thick of the fight )
"Fi-" He coughed. "Fine. I'm fine. I'm sorry, I- my glasses-" They were half-coated in the black, greasy residue of the thing's fiery passing. "Is everyone else okay?"
( We held the day )
"We've got a few injuries, but nobody died," the woman said. "That was amazing. I don't think I've ever seen one brought down so quickly!"
( In the palm of our hand )
Incredulous, Gordon glanced sidelong at her. It'd taken seven rockets, no less, and more running and hiding than he'd dreamed possible. She seemed quite serious, though.
( They ruled the night )
"Are you sure you're all right? You don't look so good."
( And the night )
"I'm sure," he finally said. "Where's Colonel Cubbage?"
( Seemed to last as long as... )
( Six weeks / On Parris Island )
Gordon wished the basement lights were brighter. The gunk on his glasses made it all but impossible to see, and his suit wasn't exactly designed for wiping off corrective lenses. He paused at the bottom of the stairs to try anyway.
( We held the coastline, they held the highlands )
"Well!" said the Colonel's voice from somewhere off to his left. "That's that. I gather you've disposed of that gunship, Dr. Freeman?"
( And they were sharp, as sharp as knives )
No thanks to you, Freeman thought sourly as one thumb rubbed the worst of the stuff away. Still, he nodded.
( They heard the hum of our motors )
"Very good. Your reputation, sir, is well deserved."
( They counted the rotors )
Wordlessly, Gordon slid his glasses back on. He could see again, though dimly at best, and the lights through the smeared lenses blurred everything into a kind of fog. He turned towards Cubbage-
( And waited for us to arrive )
It was the man he'd seen speaking with the Bastard in the scope.
( And we would all go down together )
The Colonel must've seen the recognition in Gordon's face, because he hastily muttered something about having the gate opened right away. Before Gordon could so much as utter a word, a Vortigaunt was escorting him out and up the stairs.
( We said we'd all go down together )
One day, Gordon thought sourly, he would get some damned answers; and on that day, the world would probably come to an end.
( Yes we would all go down together... )
( We met as soul mates on Parris Island )
Something scuffed against a rock at the edge of his hearing. Gordon whipped around, shotgun in hand. An older man in a dingy, once-white jacket peered out at him from behind a half-wrecked cargo van. "Gordon Freeman?" the man said warily. Gordon nodded. "Hurry up and get to the cellar! We're expecting gunships any minute now."
( We left as inmates from an asylum )
"How many?" Gordon asked. He slid the gun back into its loop on the duct tape harness.
( And we were sharp, as sharp as knives / And we were so gung ho to lay down our lives )
"We don't know. Colonel Cubbage just managed to pick up the signal before it cut off."
( We came in spastic like tameless horses / We left in plastic as numbered corpses )
Nobody had mentioned a Colonel Cubbage back at the shorepoint installation, but Gordon nodded anyway. The man in the white jacket gestured to stairs leading under a nearby building- the one, Gordon realized, that he'd seen the Bastard in- and added, "He'll be glad to see you made it, that's for sure."
( And we learned fast to travel light / Our arms were heavy but our bellies were tight )
Before Gordon could say anything, the man had run off. Someone was speaking below, though; it had the sound of a briefing. He slipped down the stairs quietly and into the cellar, where a man, a woman, and a Vortigaunt were attentively listening to an Englishman. "-steerable rocket launcher is our best bet for taking down a gunship," the man said.
( We had no home front, we had no soft soap / They sent us Playboy, they gave us Bob Hope )
As the Vortigaunt glanced Gordon's way, the Englishman noticed his arrival. "Ah! Hello, I'll be right with you," he said. "Now- where was I? Ah, yes. The laser steering system. Using the laser guide, you can steer your rocket past the gunship defenses, like so, and make a direct hit. The first few will only anger it, of course. But if you can survive long enough to make several such hits, you will be rewarded with a prize worthy of any mantelpiece."
( We dug in deep and shot on sight / And prayed to Jesus Christ with all our might )
Gordon didn't know Vortigaunt expressions well enough yet to say what the alien might think of the speech, but the two humans looked more than a little bit skeptical of the prospect. The Englishman- a short, stout man with a fussy little mustache and knitted cap- seemed not to notice as he said, "Now. Who's going to be the lucky one to carry it into combat?"
( We had no cameras to shoot the landscape / We passed the hash pipe and played our Doors tapes )
No one said anything, but the humans' eyes slid over to Gordon. As for the Vortigaunt, it silently pointed one clawed finger Gordon's way in a gesture any human child would recognize as "not it!"
( And it was dark, so dark at night )
Before Gordon could say a word, the Englishman's eyes lit up. "Ah, yes! Gordon Freeman. I couldn't have asked for a finer volunteer."
( And we held on to each other )
Silently wishing mass infestations of small biting insects on the lot of them- what would you have done if I wasn't here?- Gordon stepped forward and accepted the launcher. The Englishman bowed. "Colonel Odessa Cubbage at your service," he said.
( Like brother to brother )
Somewhere up above, a klaxon sounded. "GUNSHIP!" somebody hollered. Cubbage's breath hissed between his teeth. "Damn!" he said. "You'd better get up there, Freeman. Just let me send a warning to Lighthouse Point, and I'll come right up and lend a hand!"
( We promised our mothers we'd write )
Gordon eyed the man's back- Cubbage hadn't even waited for an answer before rushing for the radio equipment- and allowed himself a huff of annoyance. Beyond that there was no point in hiding any longer, so he scooped as many rockets as he could manage off the nearby table and made for the stairs.
( And we would all go down together / We said we'd all go down together / Yes we would all go down together )
( Remember Charlie? Remember Baker? )
The air was filled with fire and a reek like nothing on Earth. Bits of the- thing- were still falling on all sides, flaming down to flecks of ash along the way. Gordon couldn't seem to catch his breath. The chopper back in the canals had been hard enough, but this! The gunship had flowed, pouring from place to place through the sky like some malevolent sea creature after its prey. And the noise it had made as it died. . .
( They left their childhood on every acre )
"Dr. Freeman?" A woman wearing the medic's cross on her arm eyed him worriedly. "Are you all right?"
( And who was wrong? And who was right? / It didn't matter in the thick of the fight )
"Fi-" He coughed. "Fine. I'm fine. I'm sorry, I- my glasses-" They were half-coated in the black, greasy residue of the thing's fiery passing. "Is everyone else okay?"
( We held the day )
"We've got a few injuries, but nobody died," the woman said. "That was amazing. I don't think I've ever seen one brought down so quickly!"
( In the palm of our hand )
Incredulous, Gordon glanced sidelong at her. It'd taken seven rockets, no less, and more running and hiding than he'd dreamed possible. She seemed quite serious, though.
( They ruled the night )
"Are you sure you're all right? You don't look so good."
( And the night )
"I'm sure," he finally said. "Where's Colonel Cubbage?"
( Seemed to last as long as... )
( Six weeks / On Parris Island )
Gordon wished the basement lights were brighter. The gunk on his glasses made it all but impossible to see, and his suit wasn't exactly designed for wiping off corrective lenses. He paused at the bottom of the stairs to try anyway.
( We held the coastline, they held the highlands )
"Well!" said the Colonel's voice from somewhere off to his left. "That's that. I gather you've disposed of that gunship, Dr. Freeman?"
( And they were sharp, as sharp as knives )
No thanks to you, Freeman thought sourly as one thumb rubbed the worst of the stuff away. Still, he nodded.
( They heard the hum of our motors )
"Very good. Your reputation, sir, is well deserved."
( They counted the rotors )
Wordlessly, Gordon slid his glasses back on. He could see again, though dimly at best, and the lights through the smeared lenses blurred everything into a kind of fog. He turned towards Cubbage-
( And waited for us to arrive )
It was the man he'd seen speaking with the Bastard in the scope.
( And we would all go down together )
The Colonel must've seen the recognition in Gordon's face, because he hastily muttered something about having the gate opened right away. Before Gordon could so much as utter a word, a Vortigaunt was escorting him out and up the stairs.
( We said we'd all go down together )
One day, Gordon thought sourly, he would get some damned answers; and on that day, the world would probably come to an end.
( Yes we would all go down together... )