Time for my weekly update! What's that you say? I'm a day late, almost two? Dang. Well, time flies when you're havin' fun...
"Flames: check. Thick, choking, black smoke: check. Child trapped on the eighth floor: check. One Nathan Drake," Nate ducked under a smoldering beam that had fallen at an angle, "also: check. Anything we don't have?" A light fixture dropped out of the ceiling and he dodged as it swung like a pendulum from its own wires, raining down a shower of sparks. "Oh, yeah. A plan." He sighed. "How do I get myself into these situations?"
Some other burning object came crashing down nearby, and Nate instinctively put up his hands to shield himself. "Ahhh, crap Nate, you're wasting time!" he huffed. "Gotta get to that kid." He squinted into the smoky, indistinct haze that was the interior of the once-proud hotel Garnier and spotted the door to a stairwell hanging partway open. Carefully he made his way through it and sprinted up the stairs, reaching out to place a hand on the iron railing as he went. On touching it, though, he immediately retracted his hand, flapping it in the air. "Ouch! That things as hot as a branding iron!", he exclaimed. All around him the walls crawled with flames, the heat scorching his face and drenching his clothes with sweat as he ran, counting as he went. Third floor, fourth floor, fifth...
He turned to run up the stairs to the sixth floor, but was stopped by a crashing noise from above him. Looking up, he yelped and jumped backward into the doorway behind him, barely avoiding being crushed under the weight of the stairs above him that had suddenly given out along with the landings. Several floors worth of stairs came crashing down like a wrecking ball, tearing off most of the landing Nate was standing on and smashing through everything beneath him as they continued to plummet towards the ground. Nate's heart felt like it was in his throat as he stood on a jagged ledge less than a foot wide that had been left, his back pressed tightly up against the door as he surveyed the terrifying void now in front of him. Finally managing to tear his eyes away from the five story drop into hell, he ruefully glanced upward before feeling along the door for the knob. "Looks like it's time for plan 'B' ...uh, ya' know. Whatever that is..."
The door opened onto a balcony that ran the length of what looked to have been a meeting room or ball room of some sort. At least, it used to run the length of it, the center twenty feet or so had collapsed along with the floor of the room below, of which only a few floor joists remained like a skeleton of something long dead. Smoke billowed up from the lower floors, and the crackling flames that engulfed the room gleamed eerily off of a crystal chandelier that hung suspended over the chasm. Nate coughed and choked on the thick air as he squinted into the inferno. Another balcony, identical to the one he was on, ran down the other side of the room, and it looked like that one was still intact. If he could only get over there, then maybe he could find a way to keep climbing floors. Nate frowned as he looked back to the gaping hole in the floor, then up to the room's ornate light fixture. "Well," he sighed, "no guts," he ran and jumped onto the railing of the balcony and then pushed off, "no glory!" Every diamond pendant on the chandelier rattled and clanked together as he grabbed the rim of the ponderous ornament and swung through the burnt orange haze toward the other side of the room. Just as the chandelier reached the end of it's swing and Nate was about to leap off, it came loose from the ceiling and began to fall, catching him by surprise. "Oh crap!" he cried, letting go and flying through the air, arms flailing. He bounced off the railing on the other side and just barely managed to catch the floor of the balcony with one hand, dangling precariously over the collapsed section of floor below. With a grunt, Nate swung his other hand up and grabbed the railing, then pulled himself over onto the balcony. "Heh, made it," he wheezed. "God, I'm gonna sound like Sully after inhaling all this smoke."
He began to jog down the balcony in search of another way up, but stopped halfway down when he felt a tremor rock the building. Frowning as he realized that his time was running out, he started off again, determined to find the woman's child. Several startlingly loud cracks split the air, then suddenly the balcony broke about thirty feet in ahead and fell at a sharp angle downward. "Ohhh shit!" Nate cursed, at first tumbling head over heels down the newly made ramp before he managed to get his feet in front of him and lock himself into a controlled slide. As he reached the bottom of the balcony and was about to slide off into nothingness, he spotted the charred end of a broken floor joist. Screaming, he threw himself at the joist, grabbing onto it and stopping his fall, only to have it begin to swing downward a moment later, the strained fibers of the wood cracking and snapping as it did. Clinging to the burnt end for dear life, Nate swung with the joist as it passed through perpendicular with the floor above before it finally gave out, flinging him forward into the swirling smoke. He hit the floor of a mostly-destroyed hallway and tumbled against the wall, the joist flipping around and striking his shoulder before tumbling into the mess below. Nate cried out in pain and put a hand to his shoulder, feeling where the rough wood had torn his suit jacket and left a scrape that was now bleeding freely. He grunted, but with no time to think about personal injury, he hauled himself to his feet and took in his new surroundings.
To one side, the hall had collapsed along with the floor above, while twenty or so feet the other way the flames were so thick Nate knew he'd never get through. He wiped away some of the perspiration that was running in streams down his face and then set eyes on the one obvious way to keep moving- the doors to the elevator that was between him and the fire. "What's the first thing you never do when a building's on fire?" he said to himself as he pushed the button to call the car. "Oh yeah- ride the elevator." The doors opened and Nate stepped in, feeling very much like he was stepping into one of those magic boxes where someone comes and saws you in half, only minus the smoke and mirrors stuff to make it safe. "Going UP!" he said with as much bravado as he could muster. He watched as he passed the floors one by one, his heart pounding in his ears and his stomach feeling like he might vomit considering the very high possibility of the elevator's mechanics malfunctioning at any moment and effectively entrapping him in a little cube inside a veritable inferno. Just as the light dinged for the seventh floor and Nate was starting to feel like he might actually have no problems, the lights in the elevator went out, along with all power, and the car lurched to a stop. Moments later, a dim, battery powered emergency light kicked on, affording just enough light for him to see. Nate's fears gripped him like a strong man, threatening to strangle the life out of him.
"Great, just great," he said bitterly. "This far, just to die in an elevator." He huffed in exasperation. "Stupid, stupid, stupid." Suddenly he caught himself. "No! I can't give up. I've gotta get out of here." In the token light of the emergency battery pack, he examined the ceiling of the elevator car, giving one of the shiny stainless panels a shove to see if he could displace it. He felt no give, but refused to quit. Taking off his suit jacket, he balled it around his fist, gritted his teeth, and punched the edge of the panel as hard as he could. The feeling of his hand colliding with merciless steel sent waves of pain up his arm, and he shook the affected hand vigorously as he sucked air through his teeth. Then, steeling himself for the impact, he punched it again, and again, and again.
Finally the panel began to bend upwards, and, slipping his hands into the resulting gap, Nate pried on it with all his strength until he had gained enough room to squeeze through. He paused just long enough to slip his jacket back on before squeezing through into the small space between the inner ceiling and the outside of the elevator. Cramming himself into the extremely claustrophobic space required folding nearly in half, and Nate grunted as he drew his legs up, pushing himself back as far as he could. In the barely-existent light bleeding through from below, he could see cables and wires snaking this way and that, feeding the elevator's various electrical components. Contorting his body so that he could stretch one hand out, he began to feel along the outer roof of the car until he found what he was looking for. His hand closed around the small handle and he twisted it, releasing the service hatch to the outside.
He emerged onto the top of the car, grateful to be out of the cramped crawl space in the ceiling, and was met by the near pitch-darkness of the elevator shaft. He knew that the roof of the building was not far above him, but there was not even enough light to see that short distance. In fact, the only light at all was a thin, vertical line that shone through the crack between the doors to the eighth floor, the floor of which was at about the height of Nate's chest. He took a step toward it and his foot kicked something metallic, the resulting clatter was startling in the silent darkness in which he found himself. "No way," he said, crouching down to examine the object. "A toolbox! It must have accidentally been left up here by the last person to service this thing." Blessing his unexpected stroke of luck, he rummaged through the contents of the box and presently found a crowbar, then stood and jammed the tip of it into the little seam of light in front of him. Using all his strength, he pried the doors apart, managing to get about a twelve inch gap before he lost his purchase. He tossed the crowbar aside and slipped through the doors with some difficulty- he had to exhale completely to squeeze through- and found himself finally on the eighth floor.
The heat that met him was intense, a searing wall of flame that consumed everything in its path. Putting a hand up to shield his face and coughing from the thick smoke that circled around him, he briefly wondered if he was too late. His heart sank as he peered into the angry fire, hungrily devouring what was left of the structure, but as he looked he became aware of a noise. It was barely audible over the roar of the inferno, but it was there- a quiet but high-pitched wailing. Nate opened his mouth to call out, but his throat felt like sandpaper. He coughed again, then yelled out in a hoarse rasp, "Hey! I'm here! I'm here to help!" He coughed again as he staggered through the unfathomable heat. "Where are you?"
The crying momentarily got louder as the child sobbed, and then cried out, "Mama! Mama, please!"
"I'm gonna get you out of here!" Nate shouted, spinning in circles as he desperately tried to locate the child. "I'm gonna get you, just- just tell me where you're at!"
A burning beam dropped out of the ceiling, crashing through the severely weakened floor in a cloud of sparks and splinters. The child sobbed loudly again, and Nate finally spotted them, curled up in the fetal position in one corner of a room, the walls of which had mostly disintegrated as the flames overtook it. Nate growled as he realized that there was no way into the room except to go right through the fire. "I'm coming!" he called out reassuringly as he backed up a couple steps, then ran and hurled himself through the flames.
He staggered forward a few steps as he landed in the room, but caught his balance before he fell. Hearing the noise, the child looked up at him in wonder, as if he was an angel that had suddenly appeared from heaven to save them. It was a little girl, her dark hair messy and matted across her face from sweat and tears, her chocolatey eyes glistening from crying, and her breath coming in erratic gasps, choked with fear. For a moment Nate just looked at her, unable to break his gaze away from the innocent life that had almost been ended there, all alone on the top floor of a burning hotel, but then the girl spoke. "Who are you?" she asked, her voice small but full of wonder, and carrying a British accent.
"Uh," in the moment, Nathan found himself fumbling for his own name, "You can call me Nate." Another crash came behind them, and his mind flipped back to the task at hand. "Come on," he said, "I'm going to get you out of here!"
Lifting the small girl with one arm, he turned and began to make his way back. How they would make it back, though, he didn't know. As they fought against the smoke and the scorching heat, a section of the roof suddenly collapsed, void of its support, and a huge chunk of concrete swung down, punching a hole in the floor below. The girl screamed and Nate squeezed his eyes shut, shielding them both with his arms as a spray of rubble and sparks flew at them. Opening his eyes again, Nate saw that the concrete hung ludicrously suspended by a few pieces of rebar and an I-beam that was bent and sagging pathetically under the strain, swaying back and forth as it threatened to fall at any moment. Seeing an opportunity, he quickly slung the girl around onto his back, telling her to hang on to his shoulders, and then ran and jumped onto the precarious chunk of the roof. The movement caused it to sway more, but he quickly found his footing and then scampered up the side, using the irregular broken edge for handholds. Just as he was about to reach the top he felt the piece of concrete begin to fall, and he lunged for the roof, grabbing a piece of rebar that was sticking out from the edge of the hole. The thin metal bar sagged under his weight, but he quickly grabbed the edge of the concrete and pulled himself and the girl up onto the roof.
Nate and the girl both choked and coughed as they breathed deep lungfuls of the first fresh air either of them had tasted for the last half hour or so. Gasping to fill his sorely deprived lungs, Nate quickly oriented himself and developed a plan. He knew they didn't have much time before the rest of the roof collapsed. The occasional mist of water drifting overhead informed him that the firefighters were doing the best they could to extinguish the hungry flames, but it was clear that the building was a loss. Pulling the girl back around in front of him, he shouted, "Hang on," then began running toward the edge of the roof. As he leaped up onto the waist-high stucco wall around the perimeter of the roof, he wrapped his arms tightly around the child in his arms and then jumped, clearing the narrow gap to the next rooftop over. The jump would normally have been easy, but with the added weight of the girl he found himself having to roll into the landing, and he carefully cradled her as he did so to keep from hurting her. He did the same to get to the next building, and only then did he finally allow himself to slow down, feeling like they were well and truly out of harm's way. He located a metal fire escape on the side of the building they were now on and carried the girl down the stairs to the ground, then back towards where the crowds were gathered near the hotel.
They quickly found the girl's mother standing with Elena and Sully at the edge of the crowd, all three of them looking anxiously at the burning hotel with despair creeping up on their countenances. Upon seeing them, the girl squealed with joy, startling her mother, and nearly wrenched herself from Nate's arms. He gently set the child down on the pavement, and she ran as her mother called out to her, disbelief and wonder evident on her face. Nate smiled as he watched the small child fall into her mother's arms, both of them shedding tears of joy at their being reunited, as well as a few tears of grief at what was nearly a great loss.
"Nate!" He turned to see Elena running to him and throwing her arms around his neck. As she buried her face in his shoulder, she murmured, "Nate, I was so worried about you."
"I know, Elena," he said, gently running his hand through her hair. "I know." As he held his wife close, he watched the firemen's hoses blast into the building, sending up great clouds of smoke as they battled to subdue the flames.
Elena looked at him with watery eyes, taking a step back with her hands still on his shoulders. "Will you ever get a break from being the hero?" she asked, her voice shaky. "You're gonna give me a goddamn heart attack."
"When people like them are in danger?" Nate said, nodding towards the mother and daughter still tightly hugging each other a short distance away and giving his wife a wry smile. "'Fraid not, 'Lena."
She smiled wanly back at him as the girl and her mother came over to them, the mother thanking Nate profusely as she continued to hold her daughter close. "Thank you so much!" the woman said in a voice cracked with emotion. "You saved my little girl! How can I ever repay you?"
Nate held up a hand to stop her. "Don't worry about it," he said softly. "I'm just trying to help."
The woman continued to thank him fervently until Nate managed to find a graceful way to duck out. As the three treasure hunters began walking away from the crowd, Sully spoke for the first time since Nate had gotten back. "You are one crazy son-of-a-bitch, kid," he growled.
Nate chuckled. "It takes one to know one."
Walking beside them, Elena had seemingly recovered from her moment of weakness and said with a frown, "So I take it that deal didn't go anything like you thought it was going to."
"No," Nate said, glancing over his shoulder at the burning hotel. "But I guess it could have gone worse," he shrugged.
"Liars go to hell, Nate," was all Sully said in reply as he walked past him to get to the car.
The trio had gotten some curious looks on their way back into the hotel they were staying in, and it took Nate a minute to figure out why. In fact, it was only in the mirror inside the elevator that he finally caught a glimpse of himself and his companions and realized what a spectacle they were. His hair was quite disheveled and his face covered in soot, making a comical contrast to his gray suit, which itself was a little worse for wear. The shoulder of the jacket had been torn open and showed some blood from a scrape on Nate's shoulder, and the rest of his suit was generally stained with dirt, soot, and alcohol. Elena's hair was also decidedly less orderly than when she'd left the hotel that morning, several stray strands poking out here and there, and the bottom of her dress had been ripped in a couple of places, making an already flattering garment borderline scandalous. Sully had come out the best of the three, but even he didn't look like the result of a typical day at the office, what with his dress shirt halfway untucked from his pants and his jacket hanging a little skewed. Nate sighed and looked forward to getting a shower.
In the corridor they parted ways, Sully breaking off to go to his room a couple doors down from Nate and Elena's, while Nate wearily removed the key card from his wallet and swiped it in their door, then pushed it open.
As the couple stepped in, their jaws fell open.
Dragged halfway off the frame, the queen-sized mattress lay at an angle with one corner sticking up in the air, the sheets ripped back and pillows tossed carelessly on the floor. Next to the bed sat the drawer from the night stand, yanked from its place and then discarded, and a similar treatment had been given to the entertainment center. Their luggage, sitting by itself in the corner and yet unpacked when they had left the hotel that morning, had been unzipped and plundered, the contents strewn about the floor in a four foot radius around the bags.
Nate's mouth formed a tight line while Elena gasped in disbelief, and he stormed over to their suitcases, knelt down, and began to pick through the clothes. "Who did this? What were they looking for?" he heard his wife ask.
"Garnier," he said grimly, setting aside one of his shirts. Having confirmed what he already knew would be true, he shoved the bag away from himself and placed his hands on his knees. "And he was looking for the astrolabe."
Elena looked at him questioningly. "The one from Delphi?"
He nodded. "It's gone."
Shaking her head, Elena asked softly, "But why?"
Nate sighed, leaning back on his hands as he tried to channel his swirling thoughts. "That journal we stole for Garnier- it was Sir Isaac Newton's. It details Newton's works in the field of alchemy, as well as a lead he may have had in finding Atlantis. But whatever Newton thought might be in Atlantis was something he seemed to think should be handled with care, and not fall into the wrong hands." He met his wife's eyes, searching for understanding in their hazel depths. "That's why Sully and I are trying to stop him from getting it. Once we found out that Garnier couldn't be trusted any further than you could see him, well..." Nate trailed off.
"Now you and Sully feel responsible to stop him," Elena concluded, and Nate nodded. Elena stared at him, her face a mask of sober concern, her lips parted slightly. "So that's why all of that went south back there," she sighed.
She looked troubled, and Nate wondered what she was thinking. But before he could ask, a sharp knock came at the door, and he turned. Glancing back at his wife to convey a silent warning, Nate picked up his gun from the floor, loaded a clip, and stood up. Pulling the slide back as he crossed the room, he slowly released it so as not to make any noise and then pressed his eye up to the peephole in the door. Sully's unmistakable mustache greeted him on the other side, and Nate exhaled deeply. His shoulders visibly relaxed as he opened the door, stepping aside as Sully entered the room.
Sully raised his eyebrows on seeing the state of their room, and he commented in a tone of mirthless sarcasm, "I see you got the same crappy housekeeping I did."
"Yours too, huh?" Nate asked.
"Yeah," Sully said dryly. "It was a real doozy of a job on mine. Cabinets all hanging open, lid off the toilet tank, TV on the floor, you name it."
Nate scoffed, shoving his gun into the waistband of his pants. "They probably would've given us the same treatment except that I think they found what they were looking for and then bailed." Turning to look at Sullivan, he explained, "The astrolabe's gone."
Sully shook his head and clucked his tongue. "Sonnuvva-," he muttered. "What now?"
Turning to look at Elena, Nate voiced his plan. "We head to Reykjavik. Get the first flight we can, find Garnier, and take back what's ours."
It was Elena's turn to scoff now. "And how do you plan to do that?" she challenged. "Reykjavik's not exactly the smallest town in Iceland, and it's not like he's going to advertise where he's going. He knows your pissed off at him, and he's going to be making every effort to keep you off his trail."
"She's right," Sully agreed. "We're going to have to increase our chances of success if we're going to keep up with him."
Nate's expression changed to a frown as he accepted their logic, but only for a moment, before his eyes brightened again as he looked at Sully. "Well then," he said with a smile, "we've got to make sure we're in the airport to welcome him when he gets there."
Sully's eyes locked onto Nate's, contemplating his words, then his mustache twitched as one corner of his mouth turned up in a lopsided smile. "Iceland it is."
Sully soon headed back to his room to pack, leaving Nate and Elena to sort through the wreckage of their room. As Nate turned to find a new set of clothes, Elena caught his arm and turned him to face her. "Nate," she said, a look of apprehension on her face.
Nate raised his eyebrows. "Yeah?" he cheerfully replied.
Elena's eyes darkened. "It's just- I don't know. It feels like we're getting pretty far into this. And, in just a little more than a week it's... you know..."
Nate's eyes widened with understanding. "Right." He started to say more, but at the same time Elena began backpedaling, and the two found themselves talking over each other as each tried to explain their own thoughts. Eventually Nate shut up and gave his wife space to finish talking.
"It's just, you know. I mean, I just wonder... I mean does it have to... I don't know!" She huffed and threw her hands up. "It's just selfish probably."
"Elena," Nate chuckled, holding a hand up to stop her rambling. "We'll be back in plenty of time. I promise." Placing a hand on her shoulder, he added, "I owe it to you."
She looked at him, eyes sad, but managed a weak smile. "'Kay", she said sweetly.
As she walked into the bathroom and shut the door, Nate picked up his shoulder holsters and inspected them before draping them over the back of the couch, then released the clip from his gun and tossed it into his bag along with the empty weapon. The shower turned on, and Nate looked over at the bathroom door, frowning slightly as a dark cloud passed through his mind. Then he shook his head and knelt down to begin repacking.