Jake Atlas and the Quest for the Crystal Mountain

by Rob Lloyd Jones

  “Yes, Manchester United, let’s go.”

  “No. Whoever’s controlling that thing is only after me. You go with them, I go that way.”

  “No, Manchester United. We stay together.”

  I shook him off and pushed him after the pilgrims. We didn’t speak again; we just locked frantic, desperate eyes. He knew I was right: the longer I was with them, the more danger they were in. This hunter didn’t seem to want to kill us, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t. The reward on my head was dead or alive, after all.

  I turned and ran again, heading for Kailas, as wind and snow rushed at my back. I glanced behind me to see the drone coming after me, not the others. Its facial recognition cameras had identified me, and its laser blaster had me in its sights. Lights flashed more brightly around the machine, as if the drone was excited to close in on its prey.

  Another crackling blue blast, a hundred metres away. An explosion of ice and water caused the lake to jolt, flipping me over. It was a second warning shot, and I doubted I’d get many more. I scrambled up and kept running, praying I could make it to the shore.

  I heard the angry buzz of the rotors, felt the rush of air against my back. The shadow of the machine swallowed me, and then came another laser blast.

  More ice shattered. The lake surface seesawed, catapulting me into the air. Freezing water rained down as I crashed back onto the ice. I didn’t have time to get up before the drone fired again, this time ten metres ahead of me. I was flung up again, landed again. Freezing water soaked my chuba, and the raft of ice I was on began to sink. I wiped wet hair from my eyes and stared across the shattered lake. Thick chunks of ice rose up and sank under, and water flooded the slabs that stayed afloat.

  Amid the chaos I spotted Tenzin and the pilgrims scrambling to safety at the lake’s shore. They had survived; that was something.

  The drone circled and fired again, destroying another area of unbroken ice.

  My soaked chuba felt as heavy as a bearskin. My body began to shake from the cold. The water was well below freezing; if I fell in I’d die of hypothermia in seconds.

  I rose to my knees, staring at the moonlit edge of the lake fifty metres away. Some of the ice ahead was unbroken, but there was no way the hunter would let me reach the shore. Even if I could, what then? The monastery on the hill was close, but the drone would blow it to bits if I hid inside.

  Just get there, and then worry about that.

  I breathed in deeply, held the breath, and released it slowly, letting my eyes scour the lake’s fractured surface. There was always a way out if I could clear my mind of fear. The lake was shattered into icebergs, which I could use as stepping stones to reach the shore. But I had to go now, before the hunter blew them into ice cubes.

  I ran and jumped, springing from one slab to another. The drone fired ahead of me, so I changed my direction and sprang to my side. The blast caused the slab to swing up, but I used the momentum to jump to another, and then another. I kept running, leaping over channels of water between broken ice. My eyes shot and darted, seeking the best path to the shore.

  Another blast – metres away – caused a slab to flip up and fire me straight into the air. I belly-flopped down onto ice, but my legs slipped into freezing water. The shock caused my muscles to spasm, so both legs became useless. It was all I could do to cling onto the swaying iceberg.

  “Get up, Jake! Get up!”

  I thought the voice was in my head, but it called louder.

  “Move, Jake! Now!”

  I saw Tenzin screaming from the shore. It struck me that it was the first time he’d used my real name.

  I rose on weak, shaking legs, struggling to keep my balance on the rocking ice slab. I heard Tenzin cry out again. I heard the buzz of drone rotors. I heard my teeth chattering and the splash and shatter of breaking ice.

  I jumped again and again. A laser shot hit another ice slab, which flipped up and launched me into the air once more, flailing my arms. I landed on something soft and sank down, certain I’d hit the water.

  But I hadn’t. It was snow.

  I’d made it to the shore!

  The realization gave me fresh energy, and I dragged myself to my feet. I screamed at the drone above me, swearing and threatening, and then kicked away snow and waded up the hill towards the firelight of Chui Gompa. The snow was windblown and powdery, softer than on the other side of the lake, but there was no way I could outrun this drone.

  Now something else fired from the drone – something dark and spidery that hit the snow a few metres to my side. A net!

  It had fired from a mini-cannon, loaded with more nets to catch me. Only the drone was moving slower, shaking. A few of its lights had gone out as its motor struggled in the high-altitude air.

  Another net fired. I dived into the snow, sank under it and thrust myself forward so I burst up ahead of the net – then did it again as the drone fired another. It felt as if the snow was against me too, trying to pull me down. It would have been easy to let it, but I refused to give up. If I was going to die, I wanted to die somewhere warm.

  Through snow-blurred vision I saw the drone shaking harder as it chased me up the hill. A blast of wind slapped it sideways, causing its net cannon to detach and drop to the snow. Now the hunter had to use his laser blaster.

  I grabbed the cannon, a titanium tube the length of a baseball bat, and used it as a walking stick to help me through the snow. My vision was so blurred, and my mind so scrambled with fear, that I didn’t know I’d reached the monastery until I walked right into its stone wall. I cried out in delight, and staggered along the wall to a wooden door. But the latch was frozen solid. Screaming, I rammed it with the end of the net cannon, shattering the ice so the door swung open.

  Inside were Kyle and Veronika Flutes.

  For a second we all stared. The hunters, both wrapped in blankets and sitting beside a stove, froze mid-sip of their tea. Veronika’s unpatched eye twitched.

  I grabbed the door and slammed it shut. Panic hit me like an avalanche. I remember swearing, and almost throwing up with fear. My heart was going too fast and my head was starting to spin, but instinct made me move. I dived to one side just as a bolt of blue fire burst through the door, shattering wood. Kyle Flutes had got his stun gun out.

  I dropped the net cannon and staggered back along the side of the monastery. I stumbled around the corner, but all I had left for cover was a few metres of wall. Over frantic, gasping breaths I heard the drone buzzing closer. It could see me with its thermal camera. It was waiting around that corner. But if I stayed where I was, Kyle and Veronika would be on me in moments.

  I had to try my luck with the drone. Even at full strength I stood no chance against the hunters, and I was definitely not at full strength. The drone still sounded like it was struggling with the altitude; the splutter of its motor was now even louder than the whir of its rotors. I had to make a run for it, but where to? I doubted I’d make it five steps before the drone shot me in the back. But that still sounded better than being caught by Kyle and Veronika. I could hear them coming, boots crunching snow, stalking closer…

  The buzz of the drone grew even louder. Red lights flashed against snow, just around the corner. Was I really about to charge into its firing line?

  My legs were icicles, frozen with fear.

  Go, Jake! Run!

  I was just about to when I heard something else.

  A grunt and a thump.

  A stun gun blast fired, a wild, stray shot into the sky. Veronika screamed. Nothing frightened Veronika Flutes. And then I heard something more terrifying than hunters or a drone – a roar that tore through the night, shuddering the chamber walls and causing icicles to fall from the roof.

  At first I didn’t move. I couldn’t move. The shock of that sound, the fear of its source, had frozen me to the spot. Finally, I edged back to the corner, boots sliding over snow. Very slowly, I peeked around the side of the monastery. What I saw turned my insides into a block of ice.

/>   Kyle and Veronika lay unconscious on the ground. Pieces of Kyle’s stun gun lay scattered about the snow, around footprints that were far bigger than any I had ever seen…

  My stomach somersaulted and my mouth was parched with fear. What had just happened?

  Behind me the drone flew closer. Jumping over Kyle and Veronika, I staggered back into the monastery. The room looked like those at Tenzin’s old home, with silk banners on the walls and pillows on the floor for praying. It had the same hatch in the roof, and the same slide ladder to reach it. A pot of yak butter tea simmered over the stove. I rushed to it and pressed myself against the cauldron, groaning with pleasure as warmth soaked into my legs.

  Outside, the drone fired another shot, close enough to the chamber to act as a warning: come out or die. The cauldron shook and hot tea sloshed down my chest. The liquid scalded me, but the burn helped focus my mind. For a few seconds I stood still in the middle of the chamber, feeling my breath rise and fall. I closed my eyes. The storm in my head began to calm. My eyes opened, and I knew what to do.

  I darted to the door and grabbed the net cannon. Then I scrambled back to the stove, grabbed two sacks from beside the fire – one with yak butter and the other full of yak dung – and shoved handfuls of one into the other. Swinging the net cannon, I managed to unhook the ladder from the ceiling. I clambered up, carrying the dung-butter mix and the cannon.

  I curled my back into the roof hatch and barged it open, letting in a rush of snow and freezing wind. The drone spotted me the moment I appeared on the monastery roof, its searchlight swivelling and glaring. The machine swooped closer and lower, coming straight at me.

  Trying not to panic, I scooped a handful of the dung-butter mix and stuffed it down the barrel of the net cannon. It was a simple weapon – a tube and a trigger – so all I had to do was point and shoot, but the recoil sent me staggering back to the edge of the roof. I looked up and saw my shot miss the drone.

  The machine rushed closer.

  I stuffed another wad of dung-butter into the cannon, fired again – and missed again. I cursed and loaded another scoop. My hands were trembling so hard I could barely hold the weapon. I glanced up and saw the drone shooting straight for me.

  Come on, Jake, get this right!

  I breathed in, held my breath and fired.

  The dung-butter mix splatted across the drone’s camera. The machine fired a laser blast, but without its camera the shot missed me by metres. I staggered to the side of the roof as the drone fired again, and missed again. The hunter couldn’t see me, but a bit of yak dung wasn’t going to stop this thing. I had to make this count. I braced myself to time this right…

  Snow swirled up from the roof. The machine rushed low over the monastery, red lights flashing and robotic grab claws snapping. Its laser cannon turned and fired, but it was just a hopeful shot that missed me at the side of the roof. I waited … and then ran and leaped onto the drone.

  Then things got really crazy.

  I landed on top of it and clung onto whatever I could. One of the rotors sliced my arm, snapped and pinged off into the sky. The others kept spinning as the drone carried me up and away from the monastery. Still wrapped around it, I yanked at mechanical parts, tearing wires, pulling off another rotor. But the thing kept flying, taking me up higher. I was thirty feet above the slope when the drone finally started to splutter. One of its rotors was still spinning, but its motor was struggling. Lights plinked out.

  Then we started to drop.

  I slipped off the machine and fell. I pinned my arms to my sides, locked my legs together and prayed the snow was soft and thick enough to catch me. I hit it feet first and sank. Panic kicked in before I’d stopped sinking. I scrabbled around, trying to climb back up, but the snow closed in, trapping me. I screamed, fighting to escape, but I only sank deeper into the snow. I sucked a last breath as the snow covered my face, blocking my nose and mouth, suffocating me.

  There was nothing I could do. There was no plan to get out of this. I tried to scream now, but my mouth filled with snow.

  This was it. This was where I died.

  The cold numbed me, so it didn’t hurt. Mainly, I was embarrassed. This was my fault. I was so close to Kailas, right at its base. So close to the answers, the secrets we’d gone through so much to uncover…

  The snow pressed harder against my face, and I closed my eyes. I swear that I saw her face: her pale, sunken cheeks and ruby-red lips, curled into a smirk. Marjorie. The Snake Lady.

  Had she won?

  34

  A chink of light.

  Something bright, something other than the darkness of the deep snow. My frozen eyelids cracked open, blurrily aware of a yellow light in my face, filtering through the snow.

  I couldn’t breathe.

  The light grew even brighter. My heart surged with hope, but surely whoever was coming was too late.

  Please… Please…

  I heard voices calling out, urgent.

  A hand scraped snow from my face, forced my mouth open, and dug more from inside. I gasped a desperate breath. The torchlight was in my eyes, dazzling me. Had I been saved or caught?

  More hands appeared, dragging me from my snow tomb. It could have been hunters, or the Snake Lady’s goons, but I let them take me. There was nothing I could do. The cold had sucked the energy from every part of my body.

  The hands laid me on a blanket. Blurry shapes crowded round. Someone slapped me around the face. A second slap struck sense back into me. I reached out a shaky hand and wiped the snow from my eyes, trying to focus on the looming figures. The torchlight cut out and I realized what it had been – not just a torch: smart-goggles.

  My eyes focused on a face – it was the pilgrim I’d given the goggles to. All of his group were here; they had saved me! One of them slapped me again.

  I rose a little, shivering and mumbling thank yous.

  “Shall I hit you again?” the pilgrim asked.

  “No… I… How did you find me?”

  The pilgrim’s grin spread wider and he tapped the smart-goggles. “Thermal camera,” he said. “You do not want these back, do you?”

  I shook my head. The goggles were the least I owed him. I sat up further and gazed around the hill as my eyes adjusted to the night. A grey trail of smoke rose a short distance down the slope where the drone had crashed into one of the chortens. There was a figure there, silhouetted against snow and smoke.

  “Tenzin?” I rasped.

  The pilgrim pointed to the boy monk. “Tenzin sad,” he said.

  I rubbed my legs, bringing enough life back into them to stand, although I still felt like I might collapse at any moment. I staggered through the snow to where Tenzin sat among a pile of rocks.

  “Hey,” I called. “You OK?”

  He didn’t seem to hear.

  “Tenzin?”

  Still no reply, but he didn’t seem to be praying. I waded closer. “Tenzin?”

  “Go away, Jake.”

  His voice was soft, a whisper. Was he angry at me for involving the pilgrims in this? “Hey, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

  “I said go away!”

  Whoa. I hadn’t known Tenzin long, but I’d never heard him talk with so much rage. Did he know that I had asked the pilgrim to translate the Drak Terma? If so, then he must have guessed I still planned to find the Hall of Records.

  I shuffled closer, and was about to speak again when I realized what he was sitting on – not rocks, but rubble. It was the stone base of a chorten, all that was left of one that the drone had destroyed as it fell.

  And then I understood.

  Not a chorten. His chorten.

  It was the memorial Tenzin had come to pray at for permission to rebuild his monastery. But now it was ruined too.

  “Tenzin, I’m sorry. That was bad luck. I didn’t know that would happen.”

  “No,” he replied, without turning. “But it did. It happened because of you, Jake.”

  Jake. I wanted hi
m to smile, to call me Manchester United. But I knew what he meant. Not just the chorten, but his monastery and the pilgrims’ journey to Kailas. I had wreaked havoc right here at the holiest place in his world.

  I gazed up to the sheer face of Kailas. The wind was rising, whipping flurries of snow across the slope that rose to the mountain’s base.

  “Tenzin, we can still do something good. The Drak Terma, it’s—”

  I didn’t know what I was going to say, but I didn’t get a chance. Tenzin whirled around, his eyes wild with an anger I doubted he’d known before. He marched up to me and yelled so close that specks of spit hit my cheeks.

  “No! You are not sorry,” he seethed. “You are not sorry about anything. You do not care about me or my monastery, or anything but your mission. You just pretend, to get what you want.”

  “That’s not true…”

  “It is! You have been shown nothing but kindness. By all of those people you planned to betray.”

  His eyes watered as he struggled to fight tears. He was a monk, dedicated to peace. This anger confused him as much as it surprised me.

  “You are no different to other treasure hunters,” he spat.

  “That’s not true. They’re the bad guys, Tenzin.”

  “You are the bad guy, Jake! All the things you destroyed. All the promises you have broken. For what? To find treasure, to beat others.”

  “No, I told you I came here to help you…”

  He lashed out again, shoving me so I tumbled back to the snow.

  “Another lie!” he shouted. “You think I do not know? You already have the Drak Terma. Were you even going to help me rebuild my home at all?”

  I couldn’t answer – I didn’t know the answer. I stared up at Tenzin, his slight, shaking frame dwarfed by the black bulk of the mountain. Tears slid down his cheeks and dripped to the snow. His fists unclenched and his shoulders slumped, rage replaced by defeat. He sank to his knees beside me in the snow.

  “What is the point of finding treasure,” he gasped, “when you have lost your soul?”

  At that moment a searchlight caught us both in a wide glare. Now another, and another – three fierce spotlights targeting us from helicopters that seemed to appear from nowhere. We’d been so lost in our fight that neither of us had noticed their approach. Voices boomed from speakers, commands I neither heard nor cared about. We weren’t going to run. For Tenzin, there was no point – his chorten was destroyed, his journey was over. I could have tried to carry on; I had the information I needed in my pocket, after all. But I was drained. I had nothing left.