Tunneling
Lara wasn't sure whether she could have trusted that man back there—him having 'run' off as quickly as he managed. But now she followed his fading trail of blood—with a gradual pace showing pure patience.
"Maybe you should—speed it up a little? Eh?" Zip's voice came over on her headset.
"Or…not?"
"But, remember, Lara…you aren't a ghost—so don't doubt that you don't have a trace on you already."
"I took care of them back there," Lara replied, hazily.
"Yeah? And how many were there?…" Zip paused. "Oh, say—twenty?"
Lara's eyes widened. She shook her head and started a jog.
"That's better."
There was a long pause as Lara's booted feet stomped the stone banking the right side of the ongoing stream while she heard Zip's heavy breathing over the COM Link.
"So…what of this 'macana' thing, Lara?"
Lara paused in speech, her legs keep working. She thought for a moment, then responded, "Well, a "macana" is a term used for a sword wielded by Aztec soldiers many years ago. It had a hard wooden blade that was lined with shards of obsidian—making it a quite-lethal weapon. Especially at that time, for the ancient civilization." Lara's muscles began to tire, and she gradually decreased her speed. "If I remember correct, they were about two feet long—not a very large weapon…and besides, since they were indeed a common weapon amongst the Aztec army, that and if Amanda is going after it—it must be connected to some sort of higher power."
"Like a myth or legend, tying with the sword…?"
"I suppose," Lara said. She finally stopped running. "Zip, I know you had a topside layout of this site—but would you happen to have a subterranean blueprint of it?"
"Nah, sorry Lara…I don't have any at the moment…"
"But would you maybe then be able to…"
"Hack in the ARSS's systems?"
Lara smiled to herself. As though he could see her clearly, Zip quickly got to it.
The thirty-two year-old Tomb Raider rested her back against the wall, breathing heavily, hands pressing against thighs.
"You alright, Lara?" Zip's voice came through the COM Link, but still with that familiar sound of fingers tapping the keyboard accompanying.
"Yeah, yes I'm fine…just a bit tired."
Suddenly she felt the earth rumble all out through the stone and stretch up her legs. Lara was startled and jumped, glancing both ways. What the hell was that
"Whoa!" Zip blurted over the line. "What was that?" Zip had seen the camera suddenly rock around and heard a low-toned tremor through the speakers.
"I dunno." Lara replied honestly. "And I gotta go figure out—" The rumble had ceased by now and good for Lara—because she was back to running. She got her legs working again and her feet pacing. Her long braided ponytail whipped from side-to-side along her back while her boots kicked-up loose dirt from the stone floor. Within seconds the darkness around her suddenly lit up with the aid of portable lamps placed at the edge of the walls to each of her sides. They provided not much light, dimly too, but it was better than being completely shrouded in shadows.
Then Lara gasped as her feet shot to the side and the boots caught a crack in the stone—letting her slide to a halt. Dust arose from the floor, clouding around her shins.
Mere inches in front of her was a set of stone stairs—a natural staircase at that—which stretched down a good few yards. It would have been a steep surprise tumble down the stairs if it weren't for the lights, and Lara hadn't paid attention. She now waltzed down the steps, still moving her feet speedily while her guns rattled slightly in their holsters at her hips. Once her boots landed on the level floor she started-up again, her legs' muscles tautening but moving—propelling herself forward.
After a minute of pure running, Lara slid around a wide corner—and found herself coming to a screeching halt.
"I'll get back to you, Zip…" Lara murmured, and before Zip could say anything she flicked off the power of the headset. No matter how urgent Zip wanted to contact Lara, she was the only one that could re-regulate the communications. What she now saw before her stunned the woman more than anything this evening; a couple meters in front of her was a set of lethal traps that made her eyes widen at the sight—and sitting with his back against the wall just near the first was something that drew more of her attention.
Blondie.
"Look who it is," Lara hissed, her elbows pointing out with fingers hovering over the pistols at her sides. "Now, tell me something—what are you doing?"
Mark glanced down helplessly. He seemed fatigued beyond reason, the pain having passed away by now—the dried blood blotching the knees of his pants. There was no gun in his clutches, but Lara didn't know for sure whether he had a weapon on him or not. And after his sudden disappearance back there—she couldn't trust him much anymore.
The instant Mark looked away from Lara and into the lining of traps, she whipped out her right pistol—and held it a foot away from his face. "Are you unarmed?"
He nodded, starting to return his gaze to her, but stopped. He now stared at the wall before him.
She took one step forward, and Mark resultantly turned his head to her—except now, as he looked up at her, he stared down the barrel of the UCP. She asked him again, this time with a hint of more severity in her tone. Once again, this time keeping his blue eyes locked onto her—peering over the muzzle of the gun—he nodded, intently.
Lara waited a second. Her eyes remained on him. She finally withdrew the gun and slipped it back into its holster.
"So—why'd you run off back there?"
"Hmph…more like crawl away—after what you did to me." He shot a glance down at his legs.
"Not like I had a choice—your comrades…you…were trying to kill me."
"You're the one that fired first—"
Lara rolled her eyes and heaved a long sigh.
"Sorry…" he murmured; "…if I had known that you were like this before—I would have never took the job."
"One thing…how much does she pay you guys?"
He shook his head. "Don't even ask."
"Okay…" Lara glanced behind her, then back down at him. "And, second…what do you mean by 'like this'?"
Mark took a couple seconds to respond. He eyed her over. "Well, like—you."
Lara raised an eyebrow.
"I mean, we didn't get the photo of you 'til just a few minutes ago back at the guard post…and I really couldn't believe that you—Amanda described as the notorious "Tomb Raider"—would be so incredibly beautiful."
There was a burp of laughter over the COM Link. "You hear that, Lara? Now you're notorious!"
Lara hid a smile from Mark at the reaction to Zip's remark, then began to say something but Mark kept on it, "And when he noted you as an old friend—I could only expect you to be some kind of brute for leaving her."
Amanda?
"Well…" Lara was going to say 'thank you' but figured it too polite.
"And, to add to it, you're so unbelievably polite here—I mean, despite our initial encounter."
Lara shrugged.
"Anyhow…"
"Tell me one thing—why, exactly then, did you scramble off in the first place?"
"I…" He stuttered. "I wasn't sure yet if you were for-real about not killing me or not."
"Well—now you canbe sure," she said, sneaking a hint of a smile at the corner of her mouth.
"Now, tell me something else…where are you planning to go, especially with these blocking your path?" She raised her eyebrows, eyes widened. "Hm?"
"Well…since I never went with Amanda, I heard that her and her men went down these tunnels and into a large room around the far corner—" he pointed in the continuing direction, "—during which these traps were, uh, not on."
"Not on?"
"Yeah—they weren't working, open, letting anyone walk easily through." He sighed, "But, once Amanda reached inside, somehow she was able to control the traps—sealing off the area…who knows what they're doing now—and as for that, there's no way I can easily get pas these things."
"Easily?"
He shrugged, shooting a sharp gaze into her eyes, "Well, I was hoping…I mean, since you are the so-called 'tomb raider'…and,…"
Lara's eyes darted around her immediate surroundings, then back forward to the traps in front of her. The walls on either side of the stone corridor were extended about a yard out from the original wall—forming long, rectangular blocks of grey stone resembling half trapezoids at front face. Lara first noted the possible 'capacity' up-top, whereas their narrow but level tops were a good six or seven feet below the high ceiling; and, secondly, the length of this trap: the two walls seemed equal in all proportions, so the lethal trap—Lara judged with her eyes—was approximately fifteen yards long. Indeed she was correct—but, now for the hard part: the actual trap. The lethality of the trap easily risked Lara's legs getting severed…or, not to mention, her entire torso halved.
Lara took a moment to analyze the trap—aware that she probably was being tailed right about now—and, amazingly, found a way within seconds.
"Well then this is your lucky day…"
Not really… Mark thought, concurrently pondering what Lara was about to do.
"What is your name?" Lara asked. "Since you already know that I'm Lara—and, hopefully, I can now trust you…"
"Mark." He replied.
"Hm…okay, Mark—I'm going to need all your strength and trust in me for what I'm going to do…alright?"
Mark glanced to his left, behind Lara. He could have sworn he heard approaching footsteps.
"Okay."
Lara analyzed, again, the trap.
The protruding wall to her left had a thin slit in it that stretched the length of the stone—very near the top of its height. Out of it was a hand-sized brass disc with five sharp and curved razors circling it like a bladed Frisbee; the rotary blades spun at a fast rate while it gradually ran down the length of the stone. Once at the ends, it would vanish into the stone—then reappear, quickly, at the other end. The same thing occurred at the protruding wall to her right, except this one was—instead of the other's chest-height—just inches away from the floor. The scant room between the passing blades was definitely not enough space for any of Lara's skilled moves; instead, Lara had found a much easier way of passing this trap other than placing rhythmic jumps between the blades.
Before Mark's eyes, Lara performed it.
She waited until the lowest rotary disc—about at ankle's height on her right side—had approached nearest her, then she took a long step forward, placing her right foot atop the mobile disc. As swiftly as she could, so she didn't risk slipping or getting the other blades cut into her torso—Lara sprang forward and upward, her semi-gloved hands slapping the roof of the stone. She caught on, quickly pulling her legs up and clear of the crisscrossing blades, then exhaled deeply as she lay supine on the slender roof of the stone.
"Lara?" Mark called out, managing to stand, but only by grabbing at the cracks in the wall behind him.
Lara let out a long sigh, pursing her lips, then flipped over unto her belly. She went to her knees and crawled across the top—until she got back to the end which she had begun. She held a hand down, then two, in order to help Mark up atop where she was. It took some time, but with Lara's manly strength and Mark's cooperation they managed to haul him up.
Unfortunately, they got some trouble as Lara was helping to lift his legs up onto the stone.
Men clad in black toting sidearms and submachine guns arrived just around the corner, their eyes fierce with rage. Two of the five men had blood leaking from their nostrils or a bleeding lip; the other just appeared quite sore.
Hello, boys. Lara's brows lowered and her eyes sharpened with her own fury. Just as Mark managed to get atop the stone, and Lara had unholstered her left pistol—a single report sounded.
A thin layer of blood spilled over Mark's lower lip. He stared up at Lara and tried to say something. She thought it was "good luck" but couldn't comprehend. Lara gripped his shoulder with her right hand and peered over him; square in the back of his neck was a large blotch of crimson. His body went limp on her just then, his eyes still open.
"Sorry," she mumbled, lowering her fingers to his eyes and shutting them. She didn't want to get too dramatic here, seeming how she did not know the man long enough to gain any sort of connections—but there had been trust, at least, and that was enough for anything.
The man that had fired the shot held his IMI Desert Eagle at aim towards Lara and the now-lifeless Mark—its stainless steel muzzle sprouting a thin stack of smoke.
"Traitor," he snarled.
Lara cursed at herself and barked as she slung forth her own pistol and popped off a few rounds. The man got off one round before his throat erupted in a bloody mess, but it went harmlessly into the stone ceiling. Meanwhile Lara apologized, in her mind, to Mark as his body was battered with bullets while Lara crawled away. It was difficult, however, because of a few reasons: one, although she has gotten quite used to it by now, was her chest size; two, the rough stone beneath her; three, the hail of bullets behind her—and, of course, four: the rotary blades just below to her left that would chop her up in seconds.
Yet nonetheless, Lara Croft managed to reach the other side without a single bullet-hole in her. Barely even a scratch.
She landed on her feet, planting them steadily there with her back against the stone. Meanwhile, at last, the gunfire had ceased—but now it was refilled with curses and shouts as they had the need to pass the trap…and get to Lara. Afterall, to them she is the Target.
Lara heaved a long sigh, with just one of her pistols up at her side, and thought of what to do next. In front of her by less than a meter was the next trap a twenty-something-foot-long wide 'n open stretch of corridor. Lara just knew that it wasn't 'clean.' There was a fleshless skull, as white as could be although coated with dust, lying a couple inches in front of her. Lara took a swift nudge at it—kicking it forward. It hopped up into the air, then landed and rolled over the empty hallway. Suddenly the earth shook and within a split-second the floor separating straight down the middle, severing it into two halves—those of which flapped downward and gave way to an abyss below. Lara took a single, cautious step forward—and peered down. Through the shadows she saw a row of rotating cylindrical devices, tightly placed in the confined but large space, making the similar sound of an engine's gears turning. Moreover were the large triangular spikes lining the edges of these things; and even though they looked rusted with age, of course, they seemed quite durable—and, if the fall didn't kill you, the blades would.
Lara winced.
Suddenly there was a wail of pain behind her. Lara glanced back around the corner of the protruding stone wall and saw a vile mess: one of the men had attempted to pass the rotary blades, and failed miserably. He now was in multiple pieces, fluid strands of blood splashing about as his agonized groan finally died away and what was left of his body dropped and went still. Lara cringed at the sight, totally repulsed.
She looked around the area before her—where, if she waited any longer—she would either fall prey to those below or to the bullets behind her.
Lara quickly spun on her heel, shot five wild rounds back the way whence she came—and was lucky and killed one of the men. There remained just two left now, struggling to pass the trap and reach Lara. One of them hipped his SMG and hosed down Lara's position with 9mm rounds. Most just ricocheted off of the rotary blades or missed Lara completely; Lara had returned to her back at the stone and her pistol in its holster. Before delaying any longer, Lara made her decision.
The stone better be stable enough…
Lara took two steps forward and leapt. She spun her body sideways so that she faced the right wall—and as she flew through the air, then dropped, her arms reached out, fingers reaching…
When she finally fell, her palms and fingers slammed into stone. Thumbs locked on the underside of the very narrow ledge, and her fingers held on for their lives. Her legs hung down, just about ten feet from the invitation to her death, but Lara didn't wish to keep on hanging forever. She quickly got going, moving along the slender ledge, ages old, hoping that it would hold her 115 pounds until she got to the other side. And then, about halfway, the vine-strung stone began to crackle. Lara suddenly halted, glanced back to her right, and watched as chunks of stone fell from the ledge—and thus it began to give way. Lara's heart jolted and she started moving—fast. She swung her arms side-to-side, moving along the gradually-crumbling ledge as though on monkey-bars.
Finally Lara felt a breeze of relief as she reached the other side. She swung her legs up and caught the ledge of the floor; Lara managed to get level and away from the risk of falling to her death—now rolling on her back from the dooming abyss.
Lara quickly got to her feet, whipped out both her pistols, and turned to face the way she had come. Across the seventeen yard-long gap of floor and through the rotary bladed-trap, she eyeballed the two remaining men attempting to catch-up. And yet even as one man attempted to do what Lara had done before, she didn't flinch at the possibility of him making it. Because, for one—he would not make it; and two, if he somehow did, he would then have to face the gap before Lara that would prove impossible…afterall, not a single ledge remained at either side, even though if one did it would by no way be able to support their weight.
And then he did make it—somehow, some way…and was now crawling across the top of the protruding stone wall. But when the other one attempted it, he got severed at the waist—his lowerbody falling forward as his torso flew backwards, all bloodied. Lara did not like the sight of it, and once again felt revolted. Yet even with his comrade down in a gory mess, that one—with a broken nose—continued onward. Lara managed a small smile and waved at him with her right hand,. Still clutching the pistol.
The man looked pissed, and so he was. He barked some curse at Lara, and sped-up his crawling. Nonetheless, Lara simply turned around and calmly began walking around the following corner. She had completely forgotten about her headset being turned off, something that happens during great moments of near-death, when her heart beats through her chest and her brain thuds against her temples…
She thought she was over that now, though.