I. SHAMBHALA
A faint streak of consciousness appeared in the ancient Tibetan temple. It was barely there, struggling to gather impressions of the surroundings. But the hazy images of old pillars did not make much sense. Wasn't he supposed to be dead? He barely managed to breathe. It felt like someone had beaten him with a sledge in the chest. Then there was the white noise in his ears. It spread like a wildfire in his head, making him wish he had not regained his awareness. A part of the roof had caved in next to him, that he could see because from above came a beam of sunlight. Some of those blue glowing roots had been broken by the falling stone. Now the sap was dropping everywhere. It dropped onto his face, on his clothes and on the floor. Trying to get away from the foul tasting sap Harry Flynn tried to move. The pain seemed to vibrate through his flesh and bones as if it had a life of its own. He could not move his legs. And the pain in his right arm was so immense and blackening that it made him open his mouth and emit such a growl that it overcame the white noise in his head. Then the eyesight faded again as his last energy drained from him. The darkness was blissful.
It was some time later, when the cold sun had sunk low enough to peer at him from the side that he awoke. The sun was shining in from the mouth of the open stone arc, just to the right from that place where he had blown away that journalist. It just slightly warmed his back as he struggled to open his eyes. This time the world was more lucid, and the colours enhanced by the setting sun. The white noise that had resembled a torturing room radio had cleared away. Instead it was like the waves rolling up on a quiet shore. Sometimes the noise faded away completely. Giving up a sigh of relief, Harry rolled over to his back once again. His legs were better now. They were hurting, but not that horribly much as before. He willed himself up into a sitting position. Small fragments of grenade splinters fell of him together with the settled dust. As he looked down on his right hand and arm he realized they were full of splinters. He looked at it with trepidation, not only was his hand full of splinters, they had all somehow grown into his skin already. For a moment he hesitated, as all men do before exposing themselves to pain. Then he took the largest piece and pulled it out.
"Shi-it!" He gasped as the piece fell to the ground. Then he pulled out another one, and another one. Now at least he did not need to have that metal in his flesh! After a few shaky minutes he managed to continue with his arm and legs, although they were not so badly afflicted as his hand. The sun was almost at the horizon when he finished, spreading its blood red light over the valley of Shambhala. Until now he had not thought of the complete silence surrounding him, but now he noticed that there was no gunfire. Perhaps Lazarevich had found what he searched for, thought Harry. Was there really no giant Sapphire? Was it only this damn Tree of Life with its blue sap? He frowned and rose to his feet, realizing how dirty and stained his clothes were. He had come here to earn his pay, but instead only found a damn tree! Now he would never get his money, nor any treasure! His eyes went around the surroundings. Those horribly ugly blue beasts were nowhere to be seen or heard. While thinking of them, it was as if a hidden door opened in his mind. Harry blinked a few times. Why had he not thought of that earlier? Obviously the blue men were connected with the sap of the Tree… It had made them mad. And it had made them almost invincible. That must have been the connection between all that had occurred. That old German… Schaefer, he had lived in Tibet for 70 years! Harry looked at his hand again. It still hurt, but the wound had closed. His eyes went upwards to the broken roof, remembering vaguely how a root had broken under the weight of the stone. The root was dead, but on the floor beneath it, where he had lain, were dried pools of sap. A small smile appeared on his face when he connected the dots. Behind his back, the sun set behind the ancient mountains.
He spent the night at the same alcove. Before the first rays of the sun reached the valley he was already on his way. His path was set towards the Tree of Life. As he came nearer he saw the gruesome sight of dozens of bodies. They were Lazarevich's men. Someone had been feeding on them during the night, leaving some of them simply dismembered. Others were too gruesome of a sight and Harry went in circles around them. He came upon a FAL rifle; the only one with any bullets left, in it and picked it up. One never knew who could appear around the corner. As he followed the softly lit way down, he pondered on how much this sap, or its resin, could be worth on the market. The answer struck him like a lightning bolt. Millions and billions of Euros…! He could retire from the world of so-called treasure hunting and mercenaries for ever if he wished! A gold coloured sun rose above the Himalayas as he thought this, making him stop. The gilded rooftops of the temples in the valley all shone up as the gentle rays hit them, lighting up as a jewellery shop. The water drops from a passing rain enhanced the light coming from the sky. The trees lit up like emerald gemstones around him. It was indeed something special with this forgotten valley, as if the time itself could not touch it. For the first time in a long time Harry felt humble about what he saw. What was the urban jungle compared to this? His thought wandered to his small downtown apartment. Comparing it with Shambhala was like comparing a rock with the Crown Jewels of Britain. Swallowing, he returned to the task at hand. He scaled down the broken walkway to the yet dark depths, landing close to the archaic moss-covered roots of the Tree. A distinct smell of burned resin made him look around. The Tree had suffered from the collapsed walkway around it, but it was already healing, assimilating the stone blocks into itself, just as his own flesh had absorbed the metal. Feeling slightly discomfited by the thought Harry continued deeper into the undergrowth.
There were obvious signs of a battle here, a battle that Drake had obviously won. On the ground lay the dead white faced body of Lazarevich. His scars had been healed, making his appearance less detestable. The ground beside him was scorched from the burning resin. Harry walked over to a root that seemed to be untouched by the fire, looking closely. It was indeed pure blue. Returning to the dead body, Harry relieved him of his knife and .45 Defender before walking back to the resin. There he carved out a fistful of the dried resin. He put them in a leather pouch, tying it with a double knot to his belt. As he did this, he heard talk from above. Scurrying into the darkness of a fallen branch he saw two silhouettes against the rising sun.
"You blue bastards… again..!" He hissed silently between his teeth. "Didn't Drake kill you lot?" As the two blue beasts seemed to move to the left, Harry silently crept to the right, disappearing from sight. He hurriedly jumped a few broken columns and approached the wall. His hand was still hurting from the splinters, and the bruises all over his body still made him think twice before scaling it. Yet he did this, as it was the only way out of this hidden valley. Carefully climbing, always on the lookout for the blue beasts, he reached a part of the walkway still intact. Well safely up he stopped, letting his sore hands get a rest. Luckily he was an accomplished climber, and it did not take long until he was on his way up again, climbing towards the vast blue sky above.
The destroyed bridge was a surprise. He could not understand how one man could destroy an entire bridge by himself! As he climbed up and down the rubble he could not rid himself of the feeling that someone was watching him. But as he turned around, again and again, there was no one there. Still the hair at his neck told him otherwise. It made him double his pace. He only stopped to drink at springs coming down the hillside. Although he was hungry he could not stop to find something to eat. At midday the sun was high above him in the clear sky. The trees rustled lightly in the wind, as if encouraging his climb up the steep rocks. Even if the temperature was not warm, he was sweating by the time he climbed the cracked stones that lead to the entrance, or exit, of Shambhala. Allowing himself a rest, Harry looked over the valley. The eerie silence made him forget time for a while. He just looked out over the ruins, contemplating on the beauty of it all. Perhaps this was the beauty Tibetan monks strived for in their meditation? He could not know, yet it was an enchanting landscape. Far on the other side, a thunderstorm of black clouds and lightning flashes began making its decent towards the valley. Harry looked down on the trees, whose leaves had stopped moving. It was then that he saw them; hiding in the darkness of the lower jungle were the beast-men. Feeling his heart race at the thought of the odds he slowly got to his feet. Pretending not to notice them he turned towards the exit gateway, taking a long breath. It did not help calm him. The adrenaline was already in his system. He took one step, then another. After that he could not restrain himself and broke into a run. It was a scared rush, much faster than his usual running pace. Behind him something gave up a shout. Not daring to look over his shoulder Harry ran for his life.
The vast hall seemed endless as he ran over the turning platforms. The dark shadows falling from the demonic faces made the ground look full of holes. Calling behind him were at least five of those bluish beasts that had followed him from the Tree. Suddenly a blue ball of resin flew over his head, landing to his right. The explosion following its landing blew Harry off his feet, sending him flying over the edge of the platform. Half a second he was blind from the explosion, then he came to his senses and grabbed a protruding piece of rock on the side of the platform. The force of gravity exerted its toll on his body, almost making him lose grip of the stone. For a second he hung there, concentrating on keeping his balance. Then he heard the beasts approach. He looked around, finding that if he scaled down the platform's foot he could reach the water below without killing himself. He also saw that a red coloured stain was spreading on his shirt. Touching his neck with his free hand he realized there was a wound there. But it did not bother him; if he died… then he was ready for it. Now he needed to get down! Letting go of the rock he fell a few metres before grabbing hold of the next ledge. Above him, blue faces appeared. Harry retrieved the FAL and fired off a few rounds at them. Due to the fact that he was holding the rifle with one hand, the shots flew in a variety of directions, but some hit home and the faces disappeared.
"Go to Hell." He muttered while dropping down even further. Then he let go and splashed down into the sparkling dark blue water. The sensation was beyond words. It was as if someone had applied ice cubes to his entire body. His muscles cramped from the unutterable coldness. For a moment the brain could not cope with the chill. But then after a few seconds adjustments Harry found himself wide awake, stone-cold and sinking. He forced his legs to propel him upwards towards the crystal surface of the water. He knew he had to get out of the water within a few minutes; otherwise he would stay forever in it. With a gasp his head reached the surface. The blue beasts were now jumping down ledges as well. Upon seeing them he started crawling towards the opposite side of the pool of water. There he had jumped with Drake, and there he knew was the way out of this terrible cavern of demons. Upon reaching the stone, he was terrified as he could not feel his own hands. They had gone all numb in the water and now only his sight allowed him to see what they were doing. Driving himself upwards, out of the cold, he leapt upwards, once almost slipping back into the cold abyss from which he had ascended.
It was an infinitely long way up. Upon reaching the firm ground of the blue glowing ante-chamber he collapsed onto the ground, shivering. In front of him was the blue orb, still burning. How long, he wondered, did the resin burn? A few days? A week? He looked at the hypnotizing blue light but was disturbed by the sound of chatter behind his back. Annoyed he looked around. The two blue beasts that had remained on top of the walkway had spotted him. By now, Harry barely knew what his body was doing. Getting up and running towards the stairs was as much based on the instinct of survival as it was on reasonable thought. He was up the first flight of steps in three big leaps. As he looked upwards, he saw that the entrance was sealed. His eyes moved to the waterwheels. They were silent and still, as no water was coming down from the openings. The channels must be dry! A sparkle of hope made his stiff, shivering body to do a final leap up into the air. Grabbing hold of the ledge with both hands, he put all his will into a single upwards pull, heaving his tired self up into the water channel. It was barley big enough to fit him, and it would certainly not have fit Drake. He could feel the clawing at his feet by the blue beasts. Dragging himself forward, towards the light, he could feel first his left shoe then his right shoe disappear. And then there was endless white in front of him. Knowing he had escaped the beasts, he took a final look at the snow around him, and closed his eyes.