"Run away, deeper to see,
Baby run away, deep summer sea,
Baby run away, to the sun, to the comfort."

The sun slithered from above into the narrow gorge, through overarching palm fronds, along the red sandstone and knotted abseiling ropes down the abyss to the narrow rocky bottom. In the cool shade against the canyon wall stood a group of men wearing khaki safari outfits, rigged up with packs and long rifles. They were gathered around a pulpit carved into a niche in the rocky wall.

One man stepped forward, caressing the dust from the runes adorning the front of the platform. He recited an incantation from a scroll and the pulpit shivered, its top opening to birth a beautiful jade stature. Glowing finely even in the shade, the sculpted stone formed a fierce, squarish tiger, sitting on its back legs with its paws curled in front of it. Extending both hands to claim his prize, the explorer lifted the snarling statue up over his head, where it caught the sunlight in vibrant diffusion.

"And so it begins. A power hidden for centuries will now be released by-" A small stone dropping caught the attention of everyone, heads tossing around to find the noise. Their aimed guns were waved down by the leader, whose other hand continued holding the statue aloft.

"We have nothing to fear men, not now. With the Tekka Tiger at our disposal, we shall be able to-" A breeze slashed the dead air, led by fluttering red hair and a gloved hand outstretched. Snatched away, the statue continued its trajectory with its new holder up onto an outcropping of rock bathed in light high above the group.

"Why do thieves waste perfectly fine escape opportunities on mindless chatter with mindless cohorts?" Said the figure, athletically female, who stopped momentarily to bag the idol and draw a red grappling gun from her holster, "I can't complain though, it always gives me a window."

"You are as much a thief as us, strange vigilante."

Her eye roll was evident even from down below. "Maybe you haven't heard of me, but you've probably heard 'possession is nine-tenths of the law.'" She shouldered her sack and scanned the scene.

"Enough. Men, aim to kill but do not hit the Tiger."

"Oh, I guarantee they won't."

As the men raised their rifles, the red haired figure slapped a sticky hemisphere to the canyon wall before diving from her platform, just as the guns cracked. Falling through the air, she fired her grappling gun up to a spindly tree crowing out of the cliff face above, riding the taut pendulum just above the heads of the men and up. Behind her, a bullet struck the hemisphere, igniting an explosion and triggering a rock slide. Clicking the line return on her gun, she sailed up the gorge, watching below as her assailants disappeared in the dusty distance.

Once at the tree, halfway out of the chasm, she grabbed hold and unwrapped her grapple, re-aiming it towards a palm tree that sagged lazily over the gorge. It hit the target and she rappelled upward, knocking the spindly tree loose under her feet as she dismounted. It tumbled pathetically out of sight.

Emerging from the ground, she left some line between the tree and herself to swing across to where the men left their ropes tied around the tree. Tugging the first three and feeling no resistance, she drew her machete over her back and hacked them until they slithered along the ground into the abyss. The last line was taut. Leaning over the edge, she saw the leader, pulling himself up knot by knot.

"You down there. Drop your weapons into the canyon and I'll let you up."

His attention drawn, he frantically swung from side to side. His safari hat fell away, revealing an older gentleman with grey stubble and spectacles. She could see the unpredictable fear in his eyes from here.

"I can't trust you." His reply echoed up to her.

"You don't have any choice."

His swinging slowed and she watched him draw a silver pistol from a shoulder mounted holster, holding it out at his side. His gaze fell away to the piece.

"You're correct. I have no choice."

He fired, striking the overhang below her feet. She flipped backwards, landing beside the tree that tethered him.

"We seem to be in disagreement over your choice." She called. The rope began to wiggle; he was ascending again. "Drop the gun and I'll let you up."

Receiving no reply, she moved along the chasm and peered over again. He was shimmying up with his feet and one hand, his gun aimed unflinchingly up where she had last looked down at him.

"Drop it or I'll cut it." She said, her ultimatum drawing his attention. He fired towards her new position from which she withdrew unscathed. Scrambling to the tree, she reefed on the line, hearing him connect with the rock wall as she did.

"Last chance." Her machete sat poised over the continually twitching rope as her unblinking eyes watched the edge. She opened her mouth to call once more when a hand broke out of the abyss to claw at the rocky above-ground. When the second hand peaked, she spotted the pistol in his death grip and swung her blade down through the rope. He faltered and cried out as the rope flowed under him but clung fast to the edge with his free hand. Sheathing her machete, she heard his boots madly scrape the smooth rock.

Moving towards the edge, she grabbed the wrist of his clinging hand and yanked him. When the pistol swung towards her head, she let go, grabbing instead the cold barrel with both hands, keeping the muzzle angled from her body. He slid back down into the chasm holding only the grip of his gun, which was held only by her. Her arm's blood vessels engorged with strain as she maintained the difficult position, shaking and red-faced. His face no longer held fear, only steely resolve.

"Grab my hand."

"I can't believe...foiled...by some bitch."

"Grab onto me, forget the gun."

His acid glare scarred her memory. He spit, with all his strength, up into her face. She flinched and his sweaty hand slipped down and off the gun. He screamed as he fell and she stared transfixed until he disappeared. She heard no landing, only ambient noise from the surrounding jungle.

Falling backwards and scrambling to safety, she leaned against the tree where the curtailed rope remained affixed. She saw her torso wave as breath ripped in and out of her. Tearing her gloves off, she flipped the hot gun over and over in her bare hands, watching its stainless steel gleam in the scorching tropical sun. Smith & Wesson; Model 645. She rose, stumbling forward to throw it but unable to let go. Instead, she brought it up to knock against her forehead repeatedly before hurling it against the tree where it went off, jolting her. Realizing his spit was still on her, she wiped furiously at her face, unable to tell what was his and what was her sweat. She found herself screaming words into the abyss.

"You idiot. You worthless idiot. I can't believe I even tried. You wouldn't even help yourself. You-"

Her watch beeped a four note tune, as a man's face loaded on its small screen.

"Kim, you- gee what happened to you?"

The patency of her hysteria only infuriated her further. "I don't want to talk about it Wade. I got the stupid idol, I dealt with the thieves, I just need a ride out of this godforsaken jungle."

"Oh, um, alright." A mechanical keyboard clacked away. "Twelve hundred yards north is a clearing, enough for Dimitris to bring his helicopter down. Those tribesmen will be glad you retrieved th-"

She cut off the transmission and swiped open a topographical map and compass on the screen. A glint in the grass at the base of the tree sent her into a spiral of contemplation. Eventually retrieving the gun and setting its safety, she jammed it in her sack, which she reset on her back, before beginning the long hot trek north.