Large PrintHandheldAudioRating
using
 paypal
Twisting The Hellmouth Crossing Over Awards - Results
Is your email address still valid?

Corpse Lights, Big City

StoryReviewsStatisticsRelated StoriesTracking
Story

Summary: Post Chosen, During Half-Life 2. It's the end of the worlds as we know them...

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Games > Sci-Fi > Half-Life UniversebatzulgerFR183130,97213324,70816 Apr 0928 Mar 14No

Chapter Two

Disclaimer--

I own none of the good parts of this i.e. The Characters and Setting of BtVS and Half-Life. Those would be property of Mssr. Whedon and Valve Games. No profit or infringement is intended.



Xander knew he was close. Pulling out a set of binoculars, he watched another of the Combine’s trains pull into Novy Prospekt prison to drop off its cargo of ‘transferred citizens’. He watched the bluish tinge of the security field drop as the boxcars passed, then raise as the train entered the secure zone completely. Looking back over his shoulder, he signaled his partner in crime to move up. Oz Osbourne crawled up next to Xander in response to the hand motion.

“You think the Wolf can get past the barrier?”

Oz took the binoculars from Xander and studied the terrain carefully, then handed them back and scratched his chin thoughtfully before nodding in assent.

“How long do think it will take?”

“Hour, maybe little less.”

“Where do you want to stage from?”

Oz scanned the rubble and pointed out a collapsed warehouse.

“Okay, let’s go.”

The two began crawling slowly from one piece of cover to another. They constantly checked the skies to see if any Scan Drones, Civil Protection copters, or Combine Gun- or Drop- ships were cruising overhead. As they moved deeper into the rubble, the threat of being spotted from the air decreased, but the definite possibility of being ambushed by some alien wildlife went way up.

They had been moving for about an hour, dodging a few wayward zombies and headcrabs, when they started hearing a familiar chirping bark and howl.

“Shit! Hound-eyes.”

Peering carefully around a section of shattered wall, Xander saw a pack of six of the oddly shaped canine analogues. They had found a snark nest and were using there intense sonic pulses to stun the vicious little insectoids, until they could get close enough to eat them. Xander suddenly felt a pull on his shoulder. Slipping back around the corner he looked at Oz.

“I smell a squid.”

Xander started checking the low lying areas. Bullsquids liked the dark and the wet, and could tolerate toxins and radiation that would kill a the toughest, most adapted cockroach instantaneously. Massively strong with bullet resistant skin, and able to spit acid, bullsquids were too damn tough and far too dumb to be really scared of anything, and their second favorite food was houndeye, right after human of course.

The pair’s searching bore fruit when a multi-tentacled, squat yellow form stomped its way around a pile of rubble. Spotting the houndeyes it squalled, then broke into a lumbering charge flattening the two that weren’t quick enough to dodge its assault. The rest of the pack began sonic pulsing it. The overlapping waves setting up an interference pattern that was agonizing to Oz’s sensitive hearing, and was merely painful to Xander. Taking advantage of the distraction, the pair continued their movement towards the prison.

As they left the din of combat behind, a eerie quiet seemed to settle over the rubble. They could here the faint sounds of the prison; Men yelling, machinery moving and working. They could here the remnants of the ocean, off past the waste, but in the rubble itself was just the painful silence. When the target collapsed building drew closer they slowed their movements. It was just too good a sheltering structure to think that something or someone hadn’t already claimed it.

Reaching the closest entrance, a crushed loading dock’s destroyed overhead door, Xander drew his pistol and carefully fitted a silencer to it. Oz unslung a stubby barrled riot shotgun and carefully clicked off the safety. Slipping an old pair of Russian nightvision googles onto his forehead, Xander slipped into the gloom. Once immersed in the darkness he flipped the goggles down and viewed the world as a harsh green projection. The loading dock area was empty and there were old corroded shell casings scattered across the floor. Remnants of a battle long since fought. Oz slid in once Xander had swept the first room, his enhanced senses trembling as he sniffed for any sign of an ambush or lurking predator.

Xander moved quietly forward onto the remains of the former warehouse floor. The roof had collapsed partially, leaving a slanting ceiling that soared from two foot high at its lowest, to over thirty at the point where it clung desperately to its remaining, standing, complete wall. The faint rustlings of small animals could be heard as thir hiding spaces were disturbed by the two passing humans. Oz stopped suddenly and hissed at Xander to freeze. Looking around for what had spooked his partner, Xander glanced up and saw a long rope like object dropping from the thirty foot section of the ceiling. Stepping backward quickly, he evaded the questing barnacles tongue and sidestepped around its killzone. Oz followed and the pair continued to scan the roof looking for more of the lethal pests.

Oz and Xander finally made their way to the far side of the warehouse, and wormed through a hole in the foundation to get a clear line of sight on Novy Prospekt’s train gate. It was still a few hours till sundown so there was nothing to do except wait until dark.
Next Chapter
StoryReviewsStatisticsRelated StoriesTracking