A/N: Sorry it's taken so long to post the next chapter! I've had part of it on my computer for weeks now but I've gone to university and everything has been up in the air. I can't promise that it'll be soon before I post the next chapter, but I will say that the story is far from finished!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Tomb Raider franchise or any of its characters, with the exception of Tom and Max, they are my creations.

Chapter 1

Smoke.

That was the first thing that Tom smelt.

Normally smoke might be associated with destruction or terror, and yet all he felt was an overwhelming sense of relief.

He was alive.

Slowly he opened his heavy eyes. Streaks of pale sunlight punctured the enshrouding grey of the sad sky. In front of him he could hear the oddly comforting sounds of the waves slithering along the surface of a beach, desperately trying to reclaim him for the ocean, yet always falling narrowly short of their mark.

"You're awake then. And before you ask, no, I don't know where we are."

Groggily, Tom rolled his bruised head towards the voice. A few feet to his right the silhouette of a man came crashing into focus causing Tom's head to swim.

"Where are we?" he asked as he massaged his bruised temples, beside him the man sighed.

"I did just say I don't know," he replied with a slight laugh. Tom couldn't quite place his accent, Australian? New Zealand? Tom found it hard to tell between the two. "But I'll put your amnesia down to that mango sized bump on your noggin."

Tentatively Tom ran a calloused hand over his head and winced when he came into contact with a large, tender bulge on the top of skull.

"Your shoulder was also in a bit of a state – looked so limp I thought it was going to fall off!" he laughed again. "But after trial, and safe to say a fair amount of error I was able to put it back, so you'll forgive me if it gives you a bit of grief."

Carefully Tom flexed his arm, testing it. Pain shot through his shoulder as if there were shards of glass embedded in his veins, but it was nothing compared to the sheer agony that it was before.

"Thanks…" He left the sentence trailing so that the mystery figure would provide a name.

"I'm Max. I'd shake your hand but I'm scared it'll fall off."

Tom laughed, something he regretted when his head throbbed in pain. "Tom," he said, completing the introduction. "Don't suppose you fancy helping me sit up?" He asked pointing towards a group of rocks a few metres behind him.

"Sure mate, no problem," Max said as he fed his hands under Tom's armpit's. His dangling legs left trails in the sand as he allowed Max to drag him. The pain from his shoulder was so bad that Tom thought he might black out, but just when he thought he had no teeth left to grind he found himself propped up against that cold, rough surface of a protruding rock.

Once Tom was settled in his new position, Max ruffled his short, yet curly brown hair causing flecks of seawater and copious amounts of sand to shower onto his faded blue jeans and green converse trainers.

"Oh, I nearly forgot," he said jogging a few metres down the beach. "I found a few berries that look edible. Not enough for seconds though." Tom cupped his hand as Max poured in about half a dozen round berries, a meagre meal to be sure, and probably going to give him diarrhoea later on but frankly Tom was so hungry that he'd have eaten just about anything. "Don't gulp them down too quick, I don't know if there's more," Max suggested as he watched Tom inhale the small, purple fruits.

Tom took a moment to look around.

They were on a beach, although which beach, and on which island he had no idea. Behind him vast cliffs spanned as far as the eye could see either side, towering over them to provide a long shadow that encompassed the entire beach, making it extremely cold. Further inland Tom could see a large rainstorm that was heading there way.

"I don't recognise you from the Endurance," Tom asked as he turned to face his new companion. Max smiled as he finished nibbling on the juicy berries.

"I was part of the engineering team, so I was hidden away from the likes of Roth and the rest of the team. Wouldn't want some greasy nobody to ugly their day," He said, not without a hint of resentment and Marxist undertones. That look quickly disappeared as he turned the conversation back around on Tom. "Let me guess, cook?" Max asked, trying to guess his role on the ship. Tom chuckled forgetting the pain it caused his head.

"No. Just a lowly deckhand," he replied with an embarrassed grin.

"Nothing wrong with that," Max insisted firmly, his jawline becoming rigid. "You shouldn't let the likes of 'Lady Croft' and Dr Whitman make you feel like you're less than them. I'll tell you mate, it's because the rich people were making the decisions that we ended up here," Max said nodding towards the cliffs. Tom refrained from mentioning that he grew up in relative comfort money-wise in the fear that Max may attempt to cannibalise him. Instead he decided to change the subject.

"So what happens now? Should we try and find shelter or something?"

Max frowned as he considered it.

"Yeah I guess so, as long as you feel up to it, that is?"

Tom pushed himself into a wobbly stand, gritting his teeth in an attempt to hide the pain and show Max that he was up for walking. Max regarded him sceptically.

"I have an idea," he said as he scampered off into the nearby undergrowth and returned with a makeshift walking stick. "It's not much, but it's better than nothing. Besides," he added with a grin, "I'm sure you'll soon be running and jumping like a monkey."

"Oh God, I bloody hope not. My climbing skills suck."

"Don't worry about it mate, so do mine. Not much need for it when you've been imprisoned in the bowels of a ship."

Tom smiled. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that," he said as he tested his new walking stick by whacking it against a nearby rock, causing an echo to float through the nearby trees. "Nice and sturdy," Tom confirmed with a smile as Max looked on, annoyed.

"Hey, I'd rather not have to get another one of those. Try to stop hitting things with it." Tom formed a mocking salute.

"Will do, sir."

Max rolled his eyes as the two survivors made their way into the dense undergrowth and headed inland.

Later on the rain that had been visible from the shore began to shower them, although they were partially protected by the trees which formed a sort of makeshift canopy.

"Do you think there are other survivors?" Max wondered as he hacked away at a bush blocking their path with a crudely fashioned machete made out of tree bark.

"There must be. I'd be surprised if we were the only two left." Tom replied before he held his head up to the sky and opened his mouth in order to allow a thin trickle of rainwater the opportunity to quench his thirst.

Tom took a moment to scan around. All he could see were prickly bushes that came up to your chest and trees that stood as straight as totem poles with thick green vines dangling from their many sturdy branches. With the exception of the constant pounding of the rain, an unsettling silence permeated the air.

"Do you even know where we're going?" He asked frustrated and tired. Max turned towards him, his face laced with the same irritation that Tom had been feeling for the past hour.

"How the fuck should I? Or are you forgetting that I've never been here either?" Max shouted angrily.

"Well if you didn't have a clue then why did you offer to lead?" Tom retorted as he tightened his grip of the heavy, wooden walking stick and tried to convince himself that he wasn't about to smash it around the side of Max's head, a head that Tom unreasonably now decided was ugly and misshapen in a petty attempt to vilify the aggravating man.

In the distance there was a sharp crack.

Both men stopped in their tracks and listened. For a few heartbeats nothing more happened as the dull patter of the rain began to intensify into a constant, irritable shower. Max turned to Tom.

"Did you hear something?" He whispered above the din of the rain, Tom nodded his reply as he scanned through the dense trees.

"Perhaps it was nothing," he finally suggested, returning Max's heavy gaze.

"Yeah, maybe," he grudgingly conceded, "One thing for sure is that we should keep moving."

"Agreed."

Another crack.

Their heads flicked to the left, locating the source of the disturbance. In the distance, through the gaps in the trees Tom could make out shadows. Figures danced through the undergrowth, all the while getting closer to them.

"Run!" Max shouted as he began desperately scrambling through the thick undergrowth of the forest. Tom threw aside his stick and started running after him. Searing pain coursed through his shoulder as Tom struggled to keep pace. He looked back to see that the shadows were still doggedly pursuing. Ahead of him Max stopped and turned to encourage his companion.

"Come on mate, you…" His voice trailed off as he spotted one of the figures had stopped twenty yards behind, "Gun!"

As if on cue the trunks of trees exploded around them, casting tiny splinters in every direction. Instinctively Tom threw himself to the ground to avoid the sheer number of bullets that was being emptied in their direction. He took a moment to peel his head from off the ground and searched around for Max, to no avail. Leaves littered the sodden earth as bullets continued to be blindly poured into the thick undergrowth.

With his heart attempting to beat its way out of his chest, Tom took a deep breath and began to crawl away from his attackers. He was careful not to rustle any bushes or crack twigs as the last thing he wanted was to give away his already tenuous location to whomever, or whatever was attacking them.

Behind him, a shout went up from the attackers and the once rhythmic rattling of machine gun fire now ceased in an instant. Braving the very real risk of a bullet into the brain, Tom cautiously poked his head up and took a peek. He saw a tall man holding a handgun waving frantically towards the cliffs to Toms right. He glanced skyward and spotted a grainy figure, a person, shimmying along the face of the cliff. The rain was giving off a slight mist, preventing Tom from making out the individual. All he could see was that his pursuers had decided that he and Max, wherever he was, were no longer interesting, or perhaps they were convinced that they had been killed during the barrage of lead.

Tom moved into a low crouch, still wary in case any of the men had stayed behind to finish the job. He waited a few minutes, perfectly still until he was satisfied that they had moved on. He scanned around, looking for any sign of his partner.

"Max!" He hissed, not wanting to attract any stray gunmen.

Before he had time to react Tom felt something wrap around his ankle causing him to fall over as he attempted to step back.

"Calm down, it's just me." From amongst the thick bushes Tom saw the distinctly familiar face of the Kiwi, his features were obscured but a thick layer of mud and leaves that helped camouflage him.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Tom scolded as he picked himself up. Max simply shrugged.

"Thought I'd wait and see if you got shot," he said casually but with a slight smirk.

"Very funny."

"I try," Max joked before returning to a serious face. "Did you see why they left?" He asked after he'd scrapped off most of the mud.

"Yeah, there was someone up there on that cliff," Tom replied, pointing to where he saw the person, "I didn't see who."

Max nodded quietly for a few moments, obviously thinking something through. Eventually he turned back to Tom, a resolved look plastering his handsome features.

"Right, then that's where we're headed."

Well there it is, better late than never - or so I hope! Anyway, until the next time...whenever that is. :)