Repurposed 4.15

Kleiner tried consoling Eli, and Barney was glad for once that Magnussen was in his vehicle and not over there. The man would say something revoltingly insensitive. In order to lighten the mood even just a tad, Barney turned on the radio in the vehicle, as they started down that dusty road.

At first he found nothing but static, and then the emergency broadcast signal on half the local stations. But soon, a voice clearly came through. Barney instantly regretted having turned it on.

"… effort to maintain order and safety there will be security checkpoints at all borders, county lines, and major intersections," the official said, his tone absolutely no-nonsense. "Violators or anyone attempting to cross without thorough search will be detained."

"Detained my ass," Mars grunted, leaning her head on Barney's shoulder in exhausted sorrow. "How much you want to bet I run out of ammo before they do?"

"Well this is just a fine to-do," Magnussen said, folding his arms across his chest, "it was your suggestion, Marciella, that we head this way, wasn't it?"

"Don't start with me, Arne," she replied, indigo eyes slowly closing, "I'm not psychic. I would have thought they'd want people to survive; you know, to question."

They would have started arguing if not for Barney's abrupt punch on the dashboard which turned the radio off. Mars winced, when he chided, "Quit it, both of you." His voice was tired, still had a tiny twang of his mid-western upbringing. "I say we get to wherever we can, and if there's a checkpoint we deal with that when we get there."

"Ready with guns, or hands up?" Rosenberg sighed, pushing up his glasses, "Either way we seem to be in the same spot as before."

"Except that now we've got –" Mars said, eyes flickering open wide, and then she suddenly grabbed the wheel, jammed it hard to the right. Everyone gave out yelps of surprise or pain as they were tossed around. The vehicle bounced off the paved portion of the road, and shortly the second truck did likewise – only they had figured out why. It wasn't a checkpoint.

It was a wall of dust, ash, and what looked to be train cars, heading directly at them. It billowed perhaps a thousand feet up, pieces of it lit with the now-familiar green bursts of energy that signaled a new addition to Earth's ecosystem. It was yet half a mile away, but there was no escaping this monster of a storm. Tornado chasers, Barney thought absently, would have paid a bundle to be right here right now. He'd have paid a bundle to not be here right now.

Barney backed the truck up next to the other, and they huddled together, apart, as it buffeted them with a force Barney estimated to be 'middling, been through that around hour 3'. The cars separated a bit, but neither of them were tossed aside or flipped. They saw the ash swirling overhead, though the strongest force of it looked to have been above the ground by a few feet, climbing as it passed.

In moments, it was over. The windows and exteriors of the trucks were absolutely plastered with the brown-grey ash – it was more ash than dust or sand from the desert. A train car carrying twenty five tons of corn syrup had been deposited about fifteen yards from their position by the road. Another left a littering of live cattle – well, live was not the right word… But they were alive. Still alive.

They heard Corporal Shephard in the other truck laughing with relief. They were indeed as alive as they could be, even with the world trying to kill them. Barney liked the Corp, Adrian by name. They had come across Barney's own gathered group of scientists, Shep and Renee already having teamed up with Mars and Arne. If the 'enemy' was already trusted by Mars, Barney realized, they were no enemy. Barney had stifled his thoughts of guilt: he'd been responsible for defending himself and the others against some of the Marines that had been sent into Black Mesa.

Barney didn't like the thought of killing people, they were just guys like him: found a good job and did it as best they could. As a security agent at Black Mesa he had never, once, thought that it would come to this. Killing soldiers? And… well, all those other things in the way?

A brightly green-orange ball of energy zapped down nearby, followed by others.

More of those 'other things' appeared, dropping to the ground in confusion and probably anger. Where were they coming from? Barney knew the answer to that, he'd been to Xen himself during this incredibly fucked up journey through Black Mesa. And now they were coming out here? Outside the facility? That was just terrific.

"I told them to be careful with the specimens," Rosenberg said, "I had no idea that more specimens would be coming here."

"Monsters, more like," Barney said, as he exited the truck. He had to clean the windows off, and Simmons had the same idea for the other vehicle. Someone tossed Simmons a pistol and he looked at it like it was… well, a gun – he'd never fired one before. He passed it back, and Colette in her HEV suit tumbled out in order to play guard with Barney. Colette Green was a decent shot, nailing one of those nasty spitter-critters before it could even start to huck up its acidic volley.

"I'd like one of those suits about now," Barney said, distractedly firing off a couple shots at the little crab-things spindly-legging themselves toward the trucks. Satisfied after it flipped into the air and twitched, dead, Barney scanned around for another target, found none. He used his arm to dislodge the ash from the driver's side window, and Colette appraised her suit with a grin.

"You'd be surprised at how much more space you take up in a car, with it," she chuckled. Then she raised her gun and Barney instinctively mirrored her – but paused.

What had appeared nearby in another green flash was one of those bipedal things that spewed electricity at you. But … This one was different, very slightly. If not in appearance, then in its actions. Instead of shaking it's big-eyed head (not bug-eyed, Barney momentarily thought, like the conspiracy theory books always went on about) and immediately firing on them, this one stood there, tilted its head while looking at them.

Barney was flustered when he heard two of the doors on the cars, one from each, clack open and dislodge a passenger. He maintained his pistol sight at the creature, but spared a glance to check who had gotten out and who he'd have to herd back in. They were like a litter of cats, and herding cats had never been a specialty of his…

Rosenberg and … Eli? Eli had a haunted look on his face, but he intently studied this alien. Still it stood there, shifting its weight from one sharp-hoofed foot to the other. It looked at its hands, flexed the littler one that sat in the middle of its chest, as though frustrated at what to do with them.

Barney holstered his pistol, slid over to the scientists, while Colette maintained her defensive stance. "Doc?" He said, and Eli blinked slowly. The aching lines on his face from the last few hours softened a little. He looked at the creature as though trying to determine what it was thinking just by …

"They aren't enemies," Eli said, gruff voice also showing the day's wear. "Not any more." His white labcoat was encrusted with blood and dirt, shredded at the arms and hems, a bullet hole or two had torn through during some of their more heated exchanges with the Marines on the way out. Still, he took a step forward, then another. Eli extended his hand, hands used to touching his beloved wife and child, hands used to adjusting dials and typing commands.

The creature stepped up carefully, exactly as careful as Eli. It had the same greenish metal collar and arm bands as the others that had been abruptly yanked from their world to this one, but for some reason it seemed that they were no longer needed. Was this thing an escaped prisoner? Like them? Barney watched in a kind of awe – he knew that Eli was the most sensible, intelligent man he'd ever met, Barney trusted his instincts. Eli could have been killed in an instant, if that thing decided to fire off its energy at him. It did not.

Eli's hand touched the alien's, two-fingered with those weird short stubby claws to his warm, dark skin. A faint violet glow seemed to come from the alien, its eye in particular changed from a brilliant, blood red shade to a more bluish purple. The alien spoke, words that sent a shiver through Barney's body.

"Ahhhr, gaharra alla lillimah," it said. "Free… Maaan."

The strange violet glow subsided. Eli gave a smile, it started as a hesitant, worried glimmer – but as the others came from the trucks, it broadened into one of his truly warm and welcome, toothy smiles. "They're no longer slaves," he said. "Gordon freed them. Gordon did this," Eli turned to face the others, "he says they owe the 'free man' their own freedom."

"Well I'll be," Barney sighed.