Shadow of the Tomb Raider--Path of the Apocalypse

by S. D. Perry

  The black beat at him. He pulled on the stone, tried to pull himself up, but his body shook, his arms suddenly weak, shocked by the heat of the wounds, by the heat of the rivers pouring from his guts, his leg. Far below him, the lizards started their inquisitive calls.

  A soft blue light snapped on and Lara Croft was standing over him, pointing her .45 at his face.

  “You won’t get past my men,” he said. He wanted to scream it at her, but his voice was a gasp. “They’ll kill you, they’ll kill your friends.”

  “We’ll see,” she said, the first time he’d heard her speak. Her voice was soft and feminine and absolutely unimpressed.

  “You’ll never stop us,” he said. “Dominguez has the key, you gave it to him, and he’s ahead of you. Trinity will win, we will win.”

  “You may be right,” she said. “But you won’t know about it, will you?”

  His fingers were slipping. He could hear his own blood splashing into the water far below, where the lizards waited for him, calling. Croft watched, her wide brown eyes as pitiless as any soldier’s.

  Harper fell, clawing at the air, at the dreadful black that rose up to swallow him.

  * * *

  The fall didn’t kill Harper. He landed with a splash and screamed weakly. The salamanders shrieked.

  Lara turned on her torch and looked down, the sharp beam cutting through the deep black. His legs were in the water, bent in all the wrong places, and he was trying to fend off the attacking animals with an obviously broken arm. She raised the Remington and then lowered it again as the pale creatures darted in, snapping. He was already dead.

  Jonah. Go. She turned away on Harper’s last strangled cry, the sound following her to the curve in the passage ahead… And for no reason at all, her eyes filled, and there was suddenly a terrible knot in her throat.

  Dominguez has the key, you gave it to him.

  She blinked and tears spilled. That child falling into the swirling water, swept away.

  I’m so sorry. She’d only wanted to carry on with her father’s work, to fight Trinity, but what if Dominguez hadn’t been about to take the key, what if there’d been some other way to keep him from it? She had triggered the cleansing, she had brought the wave, all those people that her father had died trying to protect and there was no getting away from the horrible truth of it. She’d failed him. Again.

  Selfish. It’s about you, it’s always about you and Dad. The world is at stake and those poor people died, Jonah and Miguel might die, and you’re too damaged to get past your own personal bullshit; you’re crying for yourself and what you lost.

  Lara wiped her eyes as she ran, but the tears wouldn’t stop. She would always be running, even if she managed to keep Dominguez from fulfilling the prophecy. Trinity would find something else, there would be another one, and one after that, and she would run until she couldn’t anymore, until she collapsed or someone like Harper put a bullet in her.

  That’s right, you will. And how you feel about it doesn’t matter at all, you still have to fight.

  It was a depressing thought and even thinking it made her feel horribly shallow and pathetic… And she realized that was the great emotional monster that she’d been avoiding, that had her tied up since the tsunami. She felt sorry for herself, like a selfish child, and how could she indulge in self-pity when all of this was her fault?

  She missed her parents horribly. She could have grown up to be a whole, undamaged person, with experiences of safety and love instead of absence and loss, and it was so stupid, she was so stupid still to be mourning something that never was and couldn’t be.

  She let the tears fall, refusing to let them slow her down. If anything happened to Jonah or Miguel, she would hate herself forever.

  She had to climb around another gaping hole but the tunnel widened after that and she found a branch that led up and east, and the whole time she cried and felt shitty and broken and worried, the .45 ready… But she heard nothing, the passages stretching all around her silent and still.

  She broke into a run again when she hit a straight incline. There was a tunnel at the top that climbed into a small bat cave with three openings—and two of them were marked. One with an arrow that pointed up.

  Her heart picked up speed, the tears finally drying as she hurried up through the cold dark, watching for charges again as the passages widened and stretched, carrying her into the upper tunnels. Jonah was her family now, and she ran for him through the last chambers of the Blue Labyrinth, barely pausing at the corners and openings, leaping past the entrances and over the flat stones, into a chamber that led to the stone bridge where she’d fallen only a few hours before.

  She unhooked her radio, moving quickly toward the small chamber that led to the exit, keeping behind the Remington. She stepped into the cave, gasping, the bats stirring over her head.

  Lara stopped in the bare room and hit the transmit button, twice.

  A double-tap of static came back at her a second later.

  “…you… Bird?”

  Lara closed her eyes at the sound of his voice. He sounded hopeful and happy.

  “Yes, it’s me. I’m coming,” she said, walking past the tunnel of the drop with its red X and into the last tunnel. The cluster of bats squeaked at her, the soft sounds following her into the long and winding passage, the very slight ascent.

  She looked at her watch. Harper and his team had cost her less than two hours. She had found the code to solve whatever was written in the chamber of pillars, she had only to apply herself and she would find what Dominguez had missed. They could be deep into Peru by dawn.

  Lara let out a shaking breath, suddenly aware of how tired she was, all her muscles aching, cuts and scrapes and bites stinging… But her mind felt clear and empty, her heartache faded like a bad dream. She could live with the idea that she wasn’t always going to feel the way she thought she was supposed to feel, about anything. Denying to herself that she hurt or made mistakes or wanted things only made all of those feelings bigger, scarier.

  Just like Jonah’s always saying. God, she couldn’t wait to see him. The warmth that filled her at the thought spurred her back into a jog. It felt like it had been days since she’d seen a friendly face.

  The cold started to lift, slowly, the smells of the labyrinth giving way to the cleaner scent of fresh night air as she hurried past the first green plants, mosses, and then ferns nestled in cracks. In another minute, she was out.

  * * *

  They pulled her up and she threw herself into his arms as soon as she’d unclipped her harness.

  Jonah wrapped her tightly, squeezing. She held on for an extra minute and he grinned.

  “It’s good to see you, too. Anyone chasing you?”

  “I don’t think so,” she said. “How many went in?”

  “Five, but that guy you just stepped over came back out.”

  “Then no,” she said.

  He squeezed again, then let go of her and stepped back, looking down at his shirt, smeared with bat crap and mud. “Nice. Remind me to get you a present next time.”

  Lara laughed. She was filthy, nearly every inch of her covered in muck. A bandana was tied around one of her legs and her face was heavily smudged—except for around her slightly swollen eyes, where tears had left obvious streaks. She looked exhausted.

  “How are you, Miguel?” she asked, turning her attention to the pilot, who had stood back some distance for their reunion.

  “Not so bad,” he said. “I mean, I scraped my knee, but Jonah had ointment.”

  Lara looked around at the clearing, the bodies, the new trucks. “And to think I was worried. No problems, then?”

  “We’re fine,” Jonah said. “Did you find what you need?”

  Lara nodded eagerly, climbing out of the harness. “I think so. I got pictures of everything, and found a reference that Trinity missed, about a path of rings that follows the path of stars. I don’t know if I have the right angles on the formation to read the gl
yphs, but I also found a notebook with sketches I can use.”

  He wasn’t sure exactly what she meant, but more of the story unfolded on the ride back to the airstrip. Miguel volunteered to drive and Lara wasn’t fit to sit inside, even in the rusting cab of the junker; she and Jonah rode in the back, hanging on to hammered boards to keep from flying into the jungle, Lara calling out over the roar of the engine about an explorer’s diary, damaged glyphs, a secret message hidden in plain sight.

  Jonah kept an eye out for Winters as they bounced through the warm night, but didn’t see the pilot along the rocky road. Had he gotten lost, or just hidden as they’d gone by? It was a mystery to which Jonah was perfectly fine never knowing the answer.

  Lara tried to look at her pictures as Miguel coaxed the truck over the rutted road. Jonah found himself frowning, watching her. She was battered and exhausted but entirely focused on her new puzzle, oblivious to everything else.

  Jonah breathed deeply, taking in the wild green scent of the jungle, the feel of the rainforest in the early hours of a November morning. He wished they were going home but instead they were heading to Peru, to a secret city and a dead god and more Trinity.

  And another long flight on a small plane.

  He sighed. Lara studied her camera intently, scanning through her shots. She was one of those rare people who burned brighter than most, worked harder, invested more of herself… but she also kept going when any sane person would have tapped out. He had taken it upon himself to support her and was generally proud to do so, to the best of his abilities, but at what cost? He was along for this ride regardless, but he didn’t know if either of them were doing the right thing—assuming there even was a right thing anymore. He trusted Lara, but her obsessive nature allowed her to discount all kinds of red flags and warnings that might make a more rational person think twice.

  Jonah watched the jungle go by, not sure how to process what he felt. The only thing he absolutely knew was that he loved her. He did his best to hold onto that, to be glad that she was alive and that they were together.

  * * *

  The truck rattled through a burn scar and into the Santo Almeda compound, flies already buzzing over the carnage. Miguel parked well away from the slaughter and went to get the plane ready. Lara carried her kit over to the water tank while Jonah snagged the good first-aid kit and some clean clothes out of her pack. He stopped to help Miguel check the landing lights before heading over to help Lara hose off her equipment.

  Miguel watched them interact while he ran through his inspection checklist. They worked well together, quickly and efficiently, but they didn’t talk much and neither looked especially happy. Lara cleaned up and then broke down the weapons while Jonah packed up her stuff. Neither of them seemed particularly exceptional… except he knew that they were. Jonah had saved his life, more than once, and Lara had come out of the tunnels leaving four trained killers in her dust.

  Jonah leaned into the cabin. “How’s it going?”

  Miguel nodded. All that was left was startup. “Good. We’re ready to fly.”

  Lara handed the weapons up to Jonah, then climbed into the passenger seat beside Miguel, looking at him with a serious expression.

  “I wanted to thank you, for getting us this far,” she said. “And for agreeing to take us on to Peru. I’m sorry about—that we didn’t tell you the full nature of the risks. That I didn’t.”

  “You didn’t know they were on your tail,” Miguel said.

  “I knew it was possible,” she said. “And there may be more trouble ahead. Rough weather. And Trinity’s looking for the same place we are. If you want to drop us off at the nearest strip where we can find another ride and go home, I wouldn’t hold it against you.”

  “Yeah, Jonah tried to give me an out, too,” he said. “The way I see it, if you don’t find this city, I may not have anything to go back to.”

  He didn’t have all that much, anyway. Circling tourists from Mexico to the basin, drinking with his friends, dates that went nowhere, Sundays with his mother. As crazy as this night had been, it had woken something in him. A savor for life, an excitement. Like flying, like running contraband, but better; he was helping people with a real purpose, something noble, even.

  “Also, Jonah owes me dinner,” he added.

  “I didn’t forget,” Jonah said.

  Lara smiled at him. “You’re a good man.”

  Her statement was awkward, but sincere. Miguel smiled back at her.

  “I don’t know if I’d go that far, but thanks, anyway,” he said. “Now, what do you say we get the hell out of here?”

  His passengers strapped in and Miguel locked everything down, then settled into his seat. He pushed in the mixture knob and the carburetor, flipped the master switch, toggled the throttle in and started the engine.

  He ran his checks and then they were moving. He had to get up to speed fast on the short strip and did so, feeling the familiar rush as the plane lifted into the air, adding to his good feeling about his decision. Whatever else happened, he was flying.

  * * *

  As soon as they were in the air, Lara double-checked the message she’d found down in the labyrinth: Journey the path of the stars to follow the path of rings, at the sacred chamber of stones. A message is revealed.

  Lara clicked through the pictures she’d taken of the ringed pillars in the puzzle room, making notes on each series and separating them into files. She studied the meticulous drawings from Mateus’s crumbling notebook, and drew out the zigzagging pattern of Hydra by its major stars, and looked up glyphs, reading all of the writings from the room before attempting to apply her star overlay. In the Mayan alphabet, each glyph could represent a word or a syllable, and she was by no means fluent; it took some time. The grids of text were absolutely a jumble of code, disparate phrases and descriptors in long lines that included images of Ix Chel and Chak Chel and Kukulkan, but nothing made sense. Without knowing that the columns’ rings were part of the puzzle Dominguez would never have figured it out. She matched the thicker rings to points along Hydra near its heart, but there were a lot of variables to consider—from what angle had the puzzle-makers been working? Did the thinner lines represent descriptors?

  Jonah sat next to Miguel and they talked for a while but she didn’t really hear them, or notice when they finally fell silent some time later.

  She made several false starts and stopped to erase and redraw her lines, patiently searching for a message that wasn’t utter nonsense. They’d be deep in Peru by the time the sun came up. Everything else she’d seen at the Blue Labyrinth, Dominguez had already studied. She was convinced some of it was fake, although she couldn’t imagine why someone had gone through the tunnels and changed certain dates and directions, rewritten pieces of text. But the puzzle hadn’t been altered and it was her only edge now, the one thing she knew that she’d seen and Dominguez hadn’t, so she erased and drew again.

  It was about her tenth attempt when she saw the first part of an actual phrase. Excited, Lara scribbled down the words she knew and quickly filled in the blanks, reading it through.

  And again, her heart was pounding.

  At the sacred altar where the key opens the box, she who has unleashed the cleansing will witness its culmination. The ultimate sacrifice will be asked and accepted.

  She looked up. The plane buzzed steadily west, the moon low in the sky. Beneath them, the black rainforest stretched on into Peru, dappled with moon and starlight. Jonah was asleep, nodding in the passenger seat next to Miguel.

  As far as finding something that could help her get closer to the hidden city, this stop had been worthless. Marin had been right, that she would find what Dominguez had missed—but he’d been mistaken about how useful it would be.

  Not useful to anyone but me. “She who has unleashed the cleansing.” Lara had taken the dagger… but what if she wasn’t the “she” who’d been meant to take it? Maybe it didn’t matter anymore, the damage was done, but she had to wonde
r. She didn’t believe that everything happened for a reason, but how coincidental was it that she would be the one to find and decipher a bit of prophecy about herself?

  Did the information have any value? If the ring puzzle’s prophecy was true, the dagger and silver box would be reunited and she’d be there to see it. The thing she was trying to prevent was going to happen.

  And the ultimate sacrifice will be asked and accepted. Asked of her, or was it something she would ask? Was it saying that she would die? That was the ultimate sacrifice, wasn’t it? She wouldn’t hesitate to offer her life if it would save others, but the words were maddeningly vague. If she sacrificed her own life, would that halt the rebirth? And who was doing the accepting?

  But it doesn’t say your life, it says the ultimate sacrifice will be asked. What else might she be asked to give up that had any real value to her? Jonah? Memories of those she’d lost? She would prefer her own death.

  It doesn’t mean anything. Prophecies could be halted, that was why she was going to Peru. If everything foretold came to pass, what would be the point of even trying?

  She gazed at Jonah in the seat ahead of her, the curve of his scruffy cheek, his chin tucked as he dozed. What would she tell him when he woke up? She wouldn’t lie if he pressed her, but it might be better to say only that the stop hadn’t revealed anything new about the hidden city’s location. The grim, ambiguous prophecy would add to his worry and benefit him nothing.

  Lara leaned her head back against her seat, closing her eyes. She was disappointed, but at least Harper and his team of killers weren’t still after them, they were well on their way—and she didn’t feel like she was hiding from herself. She felt strong, ready to face the next steps. She might even cry more, and that was fine; whatever she had to do to keep going. The sun would rise in a few hours and they’d be flying into the Peruvian Andes soon after, chasing rivers, searching for the mountain with the silver crown.

  And watching for the storm. She could feel it, gathering, knew it by the urgency that still pulsed through her… but the pulse was overshadowed by simple exhaustion, her body sinking into the padded seat. Her thoughts darted from her head, fleeing into the dark.