C
Chingo
Guest
Hey I joined so I can share this random story I am writing, reflections would be nice, but you don't have to.
The sun had barely dropped below the horizon for five minutes when two clear shots rang out. Father Grigori barely had time to reload, two more zombies were within grasping distance as he pulled the trigger for a third and fourth time.
"Where do they keep coming from?" he said in his clear Russian accent to the man standing closest to him.
"Must have been another shelling, I heard the Overwatch is dropping more Headcrab shells in our area."
This new man presented himself in an odd manner, there was something about his broad shoulders that had him resemble a large bull. His long, muscled arms were grasping a rocket launcher. He seemed to have weathered through many years of torture and Combine psychological warfare.
"Damn things always hunt in packs, stick close and keep armed."
The group resembled a large pride of lions as the three people quickly sprinted down the alley tightly grasping their weapons. Foremost was Father Grigori, in his late fifties, this former member of the Orthodox Church was used to serving a higher authority though by now he had acquired an air of violence and old vodka. Behind him strode Alexei Antonov, Father Grigori's former Altar Boy, clutching the only item he held dear, his 40 year old RPG-7 given to him by his father who had fallen to the Combine years before. Andrey Juskovich brought up the rear, a man in his mid-forties Juskovich never thought much of any system instituted by the combine and he trusted none but himself. He was not only an explosives expert, but a war-torn infantryman as well.
"Stay aware as you stride these forsaken streets, I would not want the pleasure of putting you out of the misery of a head crab infection," whispered Grigori to his comrades while keeping a steady watch on the road ahead. "We have three miles to go to the supply depot to meet up with the rest of the group, remain conscious, conserve ammo, and stay awake!"
Grigori's hearty voice reassured Alexei as he contemplated their situation. "Should we take the short route through zombie infested territory or shall we take up the old industrial route near the factory?"
"How do you think a former priest of the church would answer that question Alexei? I say we put the pour souls out of their misery. What say you Andrey?"
It was several minutes before Andrey, lost in though, returned Grigori's question. "The less zombies now the less in the future, I am with the Holy Father in this one, though an issue might arise - my ammo appears low."
Suddenly, Grigori's eyes opened wide as he cried, "They have found us!" In the miniscule second that Alexei had taken to look up several shots rang out from Annabelle, Grigori's shotgun, and Andrey's pistol. By the time he had fingered around his holster and grabbed his Walther P38 a large, hulking mass was on top of him. He rammed the butt of his pistol into the creatures body but it did not budge and began to scratch away at his armor. Another clear shot rang out and Annabelle had taken another victim, clearing Alexei's situation.
"Thank you for that one Father!"
"Did I not say to remain aware!?
A spurt of blood appeared on the ground as Andrey jammed his favorite tool, his obsidian knife, into the back of a zombie that had made a leap towards Grigori. "I see you are paying much attention. Never turn your back towards the area most prone to enemy attack, right Father?" Andrey said laughing. Father Grigori's answer was cut short by a loud, sickening crunch that came from the far end of the road, away from the group.
The first remark came from Grigori, "what the bloody hell was that?" Alexei responded quickly, hurrying his voice as if it were to spare him, "I have a feeling we will find out in a short period of time." Andrey commented simply, "Let us not find out," before grabbing both his friends and pulling them into the open corridor of a nearby house. With their collision onto the floor a loud bang rang out, a bright flash, much dust and dirt in the air and then... silence.
* * *
It took several minutes for the rubbish to settle and all the noises to die down, when all the turmoil was over Andrey stirred first. "Well that was close, very lucky I saw that missile coming... we better get moving fast, I think that might have been a headcrab shell." The only answer that was returned to this statement was a loud groan by Grigori followed by a short instruction, "Andrey, my leg, Andrey move whatever is on my leg..."
No quiver, no sound came from the pile of wood under which Alexei was lying. After making short work of the portion of collapsed door framework that ended up on Grigori's leg, Andrey began to dig through the rubbish lying on top of his companion.
"Alexei! Alexei! Grigori help me! Alexei!"
Looking solemn Father Grigori simply said, "If he is gone, then he is gone, there is nothing we can do, the lord has taken him and forsaken these lands. Pass me the vodka from my bag, I need to quell the pain." Andrey moved towards his backpack which he had cast off as soon as he had become aware of his surroundings, he quickly grabbed the hip flask and lobbed it in the general direction of Father Grigori not caring if it hit the old man square in the face.
All the world was a blur as Andrey began digging in the heap of debris on the side of the hallway, Father Grigori's grunt of thanks became inaudible as his hands pushed aside large chunks of wall. After several minutes of digging, his hands touched something that was not brick, not wood, it was Alexei, with several more quick, but placed movements his comrade?s head was freed. Nervously Andrey placed two fingers on Alexei's neck and he almost exploded with excitement as he realized his friend was not dead, not yet.
"Alexei is still alive, he has a pulse! He needs treatment fast, where's the next center where we can treat him?" Father Grigori spoke carefully in such a tone that would keep Andrey calm, "The nearest medic is at the depot where we planned on heading to, Viktor Ilyich is one of the best of his class but we will need to provide immediate care for Alexei here too."
After several minutes of digging, shifting, and rummaging Alexei's torso came to view and with several minutes more his legs were exposed. Grigori and Andrey shifted his body onto his back and lifted it into an area clear of debris and dust where Andrey immediately tore off a portion of his sleeve and bound it around Alexei's injured wrist to stem the bleeding. The first thing Grigori had said in several minutes came out much louder than Andrey expected the injured old man to be able to say, "We need to construct a make-shift stretcher, actually, you construct it, I will stay alert and guard the hallway. Do not worry Andrey, Alexei will make it out alive."
No sooner had Grigori finished addressing him did Andrey make a dash for another large pile of ruins near a flight of stairs, he grabbed a few large wooden frames, the kind that hold up doors, and some smaller shattered pieces of wood. After an absence of only three minutes, Andrey had hauled all the detritus back to where Grigori was sitting. In a swift decision Andrey tore several large pieces of cloth from the remains of his sleeves, ?What are you doing?? the deep growl from Grigori surprised Andrey so much that he rammed his head into the brick ledge above him. ?Well, do you see any rope anywhere? Or do you have any better ideas?? Grigori remained silent once again watching his companion as he bound together various pieces of wood.
?Have you heard about this Gordon Freeman??
?Who?? Andrey gasped as he pulled tight another frame. ?Gordon Freeman, the scientist from Black Mesa that had a hand in this disaster, him and Dr. Vance appear to be best friends.?
?Ah yes, I have heard Vance speaking of him on certain days, I thought he died in the Black Mesa explosion??
?It appears he did not, Barney told me that he had arrived suddenly and that he had sent him to Kleiner?s lab.?
The shock was just barely visible on Andrey?s face, ?Freeman, alive?? The returning nod was one of disbelief, ?It appears so. Let us hope he will lead on the rebel forces as foretold.?
Andrey had just finished constructing what apparently was supposed to work as a stretcher but resembled a large overturned crate. The healthy rebel and the old priest slowly raised Alexei onto this construction, as each grabbed one edge of the stretcher a shallow howl was heard in the distance.
?I swear to god, we get another case of them on us and we?ve got some problems. I just hope that missile that began this mess was not filled with headcrabs, if it was, then we have some other dilemmas, two by two feet problems to be exact.? Grigori laughed at this somewhat joking statement as he layed Annabelle on top of the stretcher next to their injured friend?s head. ?Just in case, I don?t believe we will get out of this one cleanly.?
?Where are those Vortigaunts when you need them, I swear, why did we not go with Kleiner?s suggestion to take five men?? Andrey?s questioning look surprised Grigori to the point that a grin spread on his face as he answered, ?Alyx and the Vortigaunt were assigned to a different job before we were able to claim them, otherwise, trust me, two more souls would have made this journey easier to the point of a training exercise. Now, move ahead and stay aware!?
The little troop began its long arduous journey and as they rounded their third corner Andrey declared a question that Grigori himself had been wondering for several minutes, ?Where the hell are the overwatch? I haven?t seen any combine policemen as of now.?
?That my son, is a question I myself have been contemplating, I have neither seen nor heard anything that sounded remotely like a combine rifle.? Once again, the two rebels and their injured friend began moving forward. As they rounded yet another bend of this seemingly endless journey Grigori?s puffing noise halted, he had stopped moving forward.
?Andrey? pull the stretcher backwards a few yards and do it quickly.?
?Why?? Andrey?s question barely left his mouth as Grigori shouted ?Duck!? and knocked Andrey to the side. A loud blast echoed through the seemingly deserted street as a large portion of solid brick wall behind the three men exploded in a shower of brick.
As Andrey dragged Alexei behind an old dumpster Father Grigori got into position to the rear of a large collection of trash. Grigori leaned up over the trash and pulled out Annabelle which he had grabbed from the stretcher seconds before, he took two quick shots that shattered several windows down the street.
?What the hell is going on Father?? The thought occurred to Andrey in conjunction with the statement issued by Grigori. ?Sniper.? Within moments another sniper bullet tore through the pile behind which Grigori was standing and missed his head by inches. Coming to a conclusion Andrey grabbed the weapon nearest to him, Alexei?s RPG-7 leaned around then corner and pulled the trigger. The force of the explosion knocked him clearly of his feet and into the ground below, he did not witness the track the rocket was forced to take and he did not see the impact, but the noise was unmistakable. As he finally looked up and ahead into the distance all he could see was a blur of earth, bricks, and glass flying in all directions. He had lost all focus until Grigori?s voice called him back into the world, ?Nice shot, that should have done it.?
The sun had barely dropped below the horizon for five minutes when two clear shots rang out. Father Grigori barely had time to reload, two more zombies were within grasping distance as he pulled the trigger for a third and fourth time.
"Where do they keep coming from?" he said in his clear Russian accent to the man standing closest to him.
"Must have been another shelling, I heard the Overwatch is dropping more Headcrab shells in our area."
This new man presented himself in an odd manner, there was something about his broad shoulders that had him resemble a large bull. His long, muscled arms were grasping a rocket launcher. He seemed to have weathered through many years of torture and Combine psychological warfare.
"Damn things always hunt in packs, stick close and keep armed."
The group resembled a large pride of lions as the three people quickly sprinted down the alley tightly grasping their weapons. Foremost was Father Grigori, in his late fifties, this former member of the Orthodox Church was used to serving a higher authority though by now he had acquired an air of violence and old vodka. Behind him strode Alexei Antonov, Father Grigori's former Altar Boy, clutching the only item he held dear, his 40 year old RPG-7 given to him by his father who had fallen to the Combine years before. Andrey Juskovich brought up the rear, a man in his mid-forties Juskovich never thought much of any system instituted by the combine and he trusted none but himself. He was not only an explosives expert, but a war-torn infantryman as well.
"Stay aware as you stride these forsaken streets, I would not want the pleasure of putting you out of the misery of a head crab infection," whispered Grigori to his comrades while keeping a steady watch on the road ahead. "We have three miles to go to the supply depot to meet up with the rest of the group, remain conscious, conserve ammo, and stay awake!"
Grigori's hearty voice reassured Alexei as he contemplated their situation. "Should we take the short route through zombie infested territory or shall we take up the old industrial route near the factory?"
"How do you think a former priest of the church would answer that question Alexei? I say we put the pour souls out of their misery. What say you Andrey?"
It was several minutes before Andrey, lost in though, returned Grigori's question. "The less zombies now the less in the future, I am with the Holy Father in this one, though an issue might arise - my ammo appears low."
Suddenly, Grigori's eyes opened wide as he cried, "They have found us!" In the miniscule second that Alexei had taken to look up several shots rang out from Annabelle, Grigori's shotgun, and Andrey's pistol. By the time he had fingered around his holster and grabbed his Walther P38 a large, hulking mass was on top of him. He rammed the butt of his pistol into the creatures body but it did not budge and began to scratch away at his armor. Another clear shot rang out and Annabelle had taken another victim, clearing Alexei's situation.
"Thank you for that one Father!"
"Did I not say to remain aware!?
A spurt of blood appeared on the ground as Andrey jammed his favorite tool, his obsidian knife, into the back of a zombie that had made a leap towards Grigori. "I see you are paying much attention. Never turn your back towards the area most prone to enemy attack, right Father?" Andrey said laughing. Father Grigori's answer was cut short by a loud, sickening crunch that came from the far end of the road, away from the group.
The first remark came from Grigori, "what the bloody hell was that?" Alexei responded quickly, hurrying his voice as if it were to spare him, "I have a feeling we will find out in a short period of time." Andrey commented simply, "Let us not find out," before grabbing both his friends and pulling them into the open corridor of a nearby house. With their collision onto the floor a loud bang rang out, a bright flash, much dust and dirt in the air and then... silence.
* * *
It took several minutes for the rubbish to settle and all the noises to die down, when all the turmoil was over Andrey stirred first. "Well that was close, very lucky I saw that missile coming... we better get moving fast, I think that might have been a headcrab shell." The only answer that was returned to this statement was a loud groan by Grigori followed by a short instruction, "Andrey, my leg, Andrey move whatever is on my leg..."
No quiver, no sound came from the pile of wood under which Alexei was lying. After making short work of the portion of collapsed door framework that ended up on Grigori's leg, Andrey began to dig through the rubbish lying on top of his companion.
"Alexei! Alexei! Grigori help me! Alexei!"
Looking solemn Father Grigori simply said, "If he is gone, then he is gone, there is nothing we can do, the lord has taken him and forsaken these lands. Pass me the vodka from my bag, I need to quell the pain." Andrey moved towards his backpack which he had cast off as soon as he had become aware of his surroundings, he quickly grabbed the hip flask and lobbed it in the general direction of Father Grigori not caring if it hit the old man square in the face.
All the world was a blur as Andrey began digging in the heap of debris on the side of the hallway, Father Grigori's grunt of thanks became inaudible as his hands pushed aside large chunks of wall. After several minutes of digging, his hands touched something that was not brick, not wood, it was Alexei, with several more quick, but placed movements his comrade?s head was freed. Nervously Andrey placed two fingers on Alexei's neck and he almost exploded with excitement as he realized his friend was not dead, not yet.
"Alexei is still alive, he has a pulse! He needs treatment fast, where's the next center where we can treat him?" Father Grigori spoke carefully in such a tone that would keep Andrey calm, "The nearest medic is at the depot where we planned on heading to, Viktor Ilyich is one of the best of his class but we will need to provide immediate care for Alexei here too."
After several minutes of digging, shifting, and rummaging Alexei's torso came to view and with several minutes more his legs were exposed. Grigori and Andrey shifted his body onto his back and lifted it into an area clear of debris and dust where Andrey immediately tore off a portion of his sleeve and bound it around Alexei's injured wrist to stem the bleeding. The first thing Grigori had said in several minutes came out much louder than Andrey expected the injured old man to be able to say, "We need to construct a make-shift stretcher, actually, you construct it, I will stay alert and guard the hallway. Do not worry Andrey, Alexei will make it out alive."
No sooner had Grigori finished addressing him did Andrey make a dash for another large pile of ruins near a flight of stairs, he grabbed a few large wooden frames, the kind that hold up doors, and some smaller shattered pieces of wood. After an absence of only three minutes, Andrey had hauled all the detritus back to where Grigori was sitting. In a swift decision Andrey tore several large pieces of cloth from the remains of his sleeves, ?What are you doing?? the deep growl from Grigori surprised Andrey so much that he rammed his head into the brick ledge above him. ?Well, do you see any rope anywhere? Or do you have any better ideas?? Grigori remained silent once again watching his companion as he bound together various pieces of wood.
?Have you heard about this Gordon Freeman??
?Who?? Andrey gasped as he pulled tight another frame. ?Gordon Freeman, the scientist from Black Mesa that had a hand in this disaster, him and Dr. Vance appear to be best friends.?
?Ah yes, I have heard Vance speaking of him on certain days, I thought he died in the Black Mesa explosion??
?It appears he did not, Barney told me that he had arrived suddenly and that he had sent him to Kleiner?s lab.?
The shock was just barely visible on Andrey?s face, ?Freeman, alive?? The returning nod was one of disbelief, ?It appears so. Let us hope he will lead on the rebel forces as foretold.?
Andrey had just finished constructing what apparently was supposed to work as a stretcher but resembled a large overturned crate. The healthy rebel and the old priest slowly raised Alexei onto this construction, as each grabbed one edge of the stretcher a shallow howl was heard in the distance.
?I swear to god, we get another case of them on us and we?ve got some problems. I just hope that missile that began this mess was not filled with headcrabs, if it was, then we have some other dilemmas, two by two feet problems to be exact.? Grigori laughed at this somewhat joking statement as he layed Annabelle on top of the stretcher next to their injured friend?s head. ?Just in case, I don?t believe we will get out of this one cleanly.?
?Where are those Vortigaunts when you need them, I swear, why did we not go with Kleiner?s suggestion to take five men?? Andrey?s questioning look surprised Grigori to the point that a grin spread on his face as he answered, ?Alyx and the Vortigaunt were assigned to a different job before we were able to claim them, otherwise, trust me, two more souls would have made this journey easier to the point of a training exercise. Now, move ahead and stay aware!?
The little troop began its long arduous journey and as they rounded their third corner Andrey declared a question that Grigori himself had been wondering for several minutes, ?Where the hell are the overwatch? I haven?t seen any combine policemen as of now.?
?That my son, is a question I myself have been contemplating, I have neither seen nor heard anything that sounded remotely like a combine rifle.? Once again, the two rebels and their injured friend began moving forward. As they rounded yet another bend of this seemingly endless journey Grigori?s puffing noise halted, he had stopped moving forward.
?Andrey? pull the stretcher backwards a few yards and do it quickly.?
?Why?? Andrey?s question barely left his mouth as Grigori shouted ?Duck!? and knocked Andrey to the side. A loud blast echoed through the seemingly deserted street as a large portion of solid brick wall behind the three men exploded in a shower of brick.
As Andrey dragged Alexei behind an old dumpster Father Grigori got into position to the rear of a large collection of trash. Grigori leaned up over the trash and pulled out Annabelle which he had grabbed from the stretcher seconds before, he took two quick shots that shattered several windows down the street.
?What the hell is going on Father?? The thought occurred to Andrey in conjunction with the statement issued by Grigori. ?Sniper.? Within moments another sniper bullet tore through the pile behind which Grigori was standing and missed his head by inches. Coming to a conclusion Andrey grabbed the weapon nearest to him, Alexei?s RPG-7 leaned around then corner and pulled the trigger. The force of the explosion knocked him clearly of his feet and into the ground below, he did not witness the track the rocket was forced to take and he did not see the impact, but the noise was unmistakable. As he finally looked up and ahead into the distance all he could see was a blur of earth, bricks, and glass flying in all directions. He had lost all focus until Grigori?s voice called him back into the world, ?Nice shot, that should have done it.?
