Peculiarities of Survival

A Lara Croft/Tomb Raider Fan Fiction
By: Jenn Zycos


Lara pushed one boot against the bulkhead in front of her in a futile attempt to get comfortable. The small commercial passenger transport didn't allow much legroom, even in what was laughingly called first class. As a matter of fact, if she were willing to be so boorish as to get out the measuring tape and survey her seat's leg area against those in the 'tourist' class, she was certain she'd find they had a few inches on her.

Lara smirked at herself. Legroom was the least of her complaints about this little aircraft. It's petite piston engine driven propellers seemed just a bit too small to her, and the plane itself seemed at least thirty years her senior. When she had stopped to give an odious stare at the old heap on the tarmac a mechanic proudly pointed out that one could hardly tell where the old wing ended and the new wing started. Lara assumed he meant you could hardly tell if you stood back a few hundred yards and squinted. Otherwise there may as well have been a sign on the wing saying, "detach here".

Still, as inconveniences go, these were small. Lara had no serious problem with any of it. Her lifestyle had cleared up any problems she may have ever had with fear, including - perhaps especially - any fear of flying.

If it weren't for the weather she would have been fast asleep.

The little under-powered transport jostled and shook with ample force. Rain and occasional peals of thunder were hammering the poor machine. It creaked, groaned, rattled and squeaked in protest. It made sleep impossible and there was no way to focus on the text of her notes. For the first time in her long history of flying, Lara was feeling a little nauseous. That may have been from the wretched smell of other people being very, very nauseous behind her, though, more than the shaking about.

So it was a waiting game.

Unable to busy herself with the particulars of her latest quest or take nap, she instead watched the flight crew through the threadbare curtain that separated the cockpit from the passenger cabin. Lara watched because there was always something extraordinary about viewing a professional at work. For all of the airline's other faults the pilots were clearly worthy of the title. She had already worked out their complicated system of cooperation, and was certain their expert handling of the ancient aircraft was keeping the worst tossing about at bay.

"What's your name?"

Lara could only just barely make out the man's words. Her smirk was replaced by a small frown when she looked over and saw the same fellow who had been ogling her since he arrived at the small airport addressing her. He leered at her from across the isle. Done up with slicked back hair, an expensive suit with a poor tailoring job, tacky shoes, and a cheap cologne that managed to make its presence known even over the smell of vomit.

"Sorry, can't hear you." Lara said, quietly but with every appearance of yelling.

"I'm David." He bellowed loud enough to be heard in the back of the plane. "What's your name?"

Lara's brow furled. She didn't want to talk to the witless git, but she couldn't bring herself to be rude.

"Lara." She answered simply, this time loud enough to be heard.

"Some flight, eh?" He said, his French Canadian accent becoming evident over the noise.

Lara made a noncommittal noise and hoped he would loose interest.

"So, are you on vacation?"

"Something like that."

"Hey, you're British!" He observed, smiling vapidly.

Lara wished she were wearing her rose eye-shades so she could roll her eyes undetected.

"Yes. You're Canadian? Montreal, Quebec I'd say."

The man smiled, displaying a general unfamiliarity with dental hygiene. Lara shuddered slightly.

"Yes! How did you know that? Have you ever been to Montreal?"

Lara briefly debated telling him that she knew because there wasn't a single woman under the age of sixty he hadn't told while flirting. Anyone around him with working hearing and an I.Q. with more than a single digit knew where he was from, what he claimed he did for a living (Lara strongly suspected "City Engineer" to be a gross exaggeration) and how much he made a year, net.

"Never been." She answered instead.

"Well, hey! If you happen to be headed back about the same time, how about you take a little of your vacation and I show you the sights?" His smile was predatory. "I know how to show a girl a really good time." He added, wiggling his eyebrows.

Lara couldn't help but laugh. Loudly.

Surprisingly he didn't seem offended.

"I know!" He exclaimed, still smiling broadly. "What a line, huh?"

"I'm sorry." Lara said while trying to get her laughter under control. "It was such a cliché!"

"Yeah." He said, eyes focusing on her chest. "I tend to get silly like that around beautiful women."

Though his overt gaping stare made her a little uncomfortable, she found his absurd antics somewhat entertaining and so only moved her arms to block his view while she continued to chuckle.

Thinking her giggling a sign of interest, he began to regale her with one of his favorite vanity stories. It took him a few minutes to realize she wasn't hearing a word he was saying, had stopped laughing, and was watching the cockpit with an intense look on her face.

He looked in the direction of her gaze but saw nothing that interesting.

"What? What're you looking at?" He asked.

Lara didn't hear. She saw several alarm lights on, and the routine between the pilots had changed substantially.

"Oh, damn." She said when she saw the copilot pull the engine extinguisher lever.

Lara leaned forward and looked around her admirer. On the wing, Lara could just make out the shape of the engine and a long, dark plume of smoke trailing behind it.

The small craft jostled everyone with renewed fury. A loud, long screech of metal grinding against metal made Lara snap her head around, just in time to see the other wing warp upward a few degrees and fail to return to its original shape.

The usual feeling of exhilaration at facing death was muted by the fact she was not the one with her hands on the wheel. She clasped her seatbelt and yanked it as tight as she could stand. Placing both feet on the floor before the bulkhead, Lara prepared herself for what she felt was the inevitable.

David followed her lead, and began a muttered prayer. Other passengers were starting to put the clues together, and their murmur changed to a din of panicked voices. Several made the stupid mistake of getting out of their seats to annoy the flight attendant, who was busying herself with getting them back to their seats and telling everyone that nothing was wrong, it was just the weather.

Lara gasped when she saw several treetops hurtle by under her window.

"Oh, God!" David cried out. "We're going to die."

Lara concurred, but chose not to say anything. She smiled slightly at the irony of it. After uncounted brushes with death from murderous ruffians, Sasquatch, Bengal Tigers, bears, and cheetahs along with perilous drops, wicked traps, a river of molten gold and - most ironically - a plane crash in the midst of the Himalayas, she was going to die in a plane crash over Costa Rica.

A stupid, silly plane crash.

The plane lurched again. Lara looked to see the pilots with their feet against the instrument panel, hauling back on the yokes with every ounce of strength they had, trying to keep the plane aloft.

There was a rapid, random banging noise. Lara realized the sound was treetops striking the underside of the transport.

Then there was chaos. The cabin lights went out and it felt like they were tumbling: End over end, around in a yaw, and over in a roll. Lara grabbed her legs and made herself as small as possible. Above her head she thought she heard the loud, sickening thump and crunch of a body striking the ground after a long fall.

Then there was total, complete oblivion.


Lara woke to a trickle of water running down her face. She rolled over onto her back and immediately regretted moving so suddenly. Her body was stiff and felt terribly abused. That is, more so than usual.

Though the pain of moving was unpleasant, it was a clear sign of having lived longer than expected. A fact she was unmistakably grateful for. She hoped others had been granted the same, she didn't want to have to bury everyone like she did last time. She was not sure she could endure that again.

A quick inspection of herself revealed a few minor cuts and bruises, with a serious looking bruise just above her hips and across her belly. Her seatbelt was probably a big part of why she was still alive, but it had asked a price. Briefly, Lara wondered why she wasn't hanging from her seat by that belt.

She sat up slowly and began to take in her surroundings. She was seated on what was once the ceiling of the passenger cabin of the small transport. Above her head was the row where she had been seated, and like several others, there were people hanging inverted from their seats. The floor above had a gaping tear and she could see the sunlit treetops that were the source of the slow trickle of water that had awakened her. The whole cabin was oddly bent and twisted with several other tears and openings. Fortunately Lara couldn't detect any smell of fuel, suggesting that the tanks had either been emptied on the way down or had somehow managed to remain intact.

"Lucky, that." Lara commented to herself.

What Lara did smell was horrid. The stench of vomit, feces and urine penetrated her nostrils, combining in the acrid stench of death and suffering.

Beside her was a body. Lara reached over to feel for a pulse, and sighed sadly when she touched the cold, stiff flesh of a corpse. Though, given the odd angle of his head, it was only to be expected.

She spotted David across from her, sitting against the fuselage that was now beneath his seat, asleep and snoring and quite alive.

Standing, Lara walked through the remnants of the passenger cabin. Many of the passengers were scattered about in various states of consciousness and semi-consciousness, but again clearly alive. But many were dead and in varying broken states as well.

The cockpit was smashed and the crew was clearly dead, having been through an exchange of kinetic energy no one could have possibly survived. The crumpled hull around them evidenced the prime reason anyone was still alive, it having absorbed the energy of impact instead of the passengers.

The passengers who were conscious were whimpering and moaning with pain and fear.

Right. Stop messing about, Lara, time to survive.

She returned to the first class area and opened the first aid kit that was mounted on the wall near the flight attendant's station. The flight attendant lay beneath it and at first Lara thought she was asleep, unconscious or dead, but her eyes met Lara's, though she didn't move otherwise.

"How are you?" Lara asked.

"No puedo moverme..." The attendant said in a small, tremulous voice.

"You can't move?" Lara asked as she bent down to inspect the woman, not fully trusting her Spanish.

"N... no. I can't feel my legs."

The revelation awakened memories of a field medicine class she had taken back in her Gordonstoun boarding school days. She had to triage this mass casualty scene, and the attendant was a red tag - priority.

"Ok, can you breathe easily?" Lara asked.

"Si. Ayúdeme! Oh, mi Díos! Please help me!" She pleaded, tears starting to stream down past her ears. Her fear was palpable.

"I will. I'm going to check on everyone, then I'll be back. You'll be fine. I'll send someone to be with you if there's another able bodied left."

Her eyes were full of fear and desperation, but she agreed to wait anyway. Lara found she was somewhat frustrated by this turn. Flight attendants are often trained to be of great help in these situations, that she may be paralyzed wasn't an auspicious beginning for an already nasty situation.

"David." Lara called, taping his leg with her boot.

"Mph. What?" David said sleepily.

"How are you? Injured?"

David opened his eyes and looked up at her. "Uh, no. Well, a major bruise over my belly, but nothing much else. Can you believe we surv..."

"Good." Lara interrupted. "Go to the attendant and sit with her, please? Don't move her, I think she broke her neck or back."

His eyes widened, and he got up and wandered wordlessly toward the attendant's station.

Lara dove into the task of triage and first aid. Lara sorted out the survivors, somewhat mollified to discover that there were only two major injuries to care for. The attendant's injury was almost certainly her neck, which Lara stabilized in a neck brace, and another passenger had a badly broken leg, which was also stabilized with a balloon splint from the same impressively complete first aid kit.

All the other injuries had either been minor or fatal.

With the help of a pair of volunteers - two young women by the names Jill and Bernadette who were planning on spending their summer money on a cheap tour of South America - the dead were collected in the back of the plane. They were stacked like chord wood but at least were no longer dangling from their seats or crumpled in corners.

Out of the fifty-three passengers and crew, eight were left alive.

"Alright, let's see what's outside, shall we then?" Lara suggested.

Of course the door wasn't easy to get through. Lara found herself trying to wriggle through one of the breaks in the hull while several others kept at working the door's latch. The twisted fuselage had pinned it shut.

Outside the aircraft Lara took a deep breath of the clean air, then slid down to the ground where she could help with the door. A thick branch as a lever and some serious elbow grease later, the door screeched open.

The survivors filtered out of the smashed aircraft and began to take in their surroundings. Lara, familiar with this part of the world, noted to herself that the forest was pretty typical save for being a bit thin. Survival here would be comparatively easy.

Strewn behind the crushed fuselage were bits of wing, engine parts, and luggage. Lara started toward the debris to find her backpack and gun belt. Jill stepped up beside her.

"What are we going to do about Maria?" She asked, concerned for the flight attendant's condition.

As Lara picked over the wreckage, she answered: "Nothing. Best thing for her right now. We'll have to find a way to keep her hydrated and fed - if we have to wait that long - but otherwise we have to leave her to lie still."

"Oh." Jill sounded a little disappointed.

"Aha!" Lara quietly exclaimed, leaning down to scoop up her backpack from under some loose articles of clothing. A quick look-see let her know her equipment was unharmed and still securely in place within it. Jill's eyes locked onto the two chrome-plated pistols as Lara strapped on her gun belt.

"What are those for?" Jill inquired with some nervousness.

"Protection." Lara answered simply. "Do you smell that?"

"Yeah. Smells like paint thinner." Jill answered, still distracted by the firearms.

"Fuel. Damn, I knew we wouldn't be so lucky."

"What do you mean?"

"Can't stay near the plane. We'll need a fire and we can't risk it so near all this fuel."

"But, it's warm!" Jill said, eyeing Lara dubiously.

Lara smiled at the young woman. "It's not for warmth, dear, it's to keep the predators away."

"P... predators?"


Lara held on to the tree's trunk with one had and gingerly put her binoculars to her eyes with the other.

"What do you see?" someone called from below.

"Trees." Lara said.

Ignoring the calls for her to be more specific, Lara carefully swept the horizon for signs of nearby civilization. She hadn't been expecting to find any - the area they were flying over was a vast national park. Lara chose to look only because everyone begged her to. No one else was willing or capable of climbing the trees.

Her scan resulted in the expected.

"Sorry." Lara called out. "We're not in the middle of nowhere, but we can see it from here."


"Careful! Very smooth, very level!" David exclaimed unnecessarily.

David, Jill, Bernadette and Lara moved their feet in small steps, each at a corner of their handmade litter, carefully moving Maria toward their camp some fifty feet north of the crash site in a meadow-like clearing.

The others were busy gathering luggage and anything else they could remove from the plane. Already one of the survivors - an overweight fellow by the name of Anthony who was dressed sharply and carried an air of authority and intellect - had used a couple of inflatable life rafts to make a good rain proof lean-to. He was laying out some broad, flat leaves to make a floor where they could set Maria and Teddy - the fellow with the broken leg.

Angela - an old woman that had been headed to see a dying relative - was collecting what little food there was aboard the transport. There was not much more than packets of mixed nuts and some soft drinks, but it beat nothing at all.

Maria whimpered, afraid and feeling helpless.

"Almost there, Maria." Lara comforted.

"Is this going to last long enough?" Angela asked as she finished stacking the collection of cheap airline snacks by the camp.

"It's a lush forest in the middle of summer." Lara answered. "There will be fruits and perhaps even a wild boar or two. I doubt food will be any real sort of problem."

Lara wisely chose not to mention it, but their real problem was going to be fresh water. Rain season or not, the storm that had brought them down had already been absorbed into the ground. There was no sign of any useful pools or puddles.

Apparently Anthony had thought of that, too. Disregarding the complaints from fellow passengers, he had set the rafts face up, making them roofs and rain catchers. If it rained soon, the problem would be academic for a few days. The fruit they were likely to be eating would exaggerate the problem, since most of their stomachs weren't used to the different enzymes, and so diarrhea would result.

"Steady now, down she goes." Lara called as they carefully sat their rider down on the leaf floor.

Leaving Maria's settling in to Jill and Bernadette, Lara began building up rocks for a fire pit. Night would soon be upon them, and the forests would be crawling with evening and night hunters. Though she doubted most would bother with anything as large as a human, it wasn't worth risking a night without the protection of flame. Not to mention a fire would make them much easier to spot.

The pit was easier to build than it was to teach her fellow survivors how to find firewood. Most brought back rather green or terribly rotten wood, neither of which promised to burn well.

Rather than chide them - which she wanted to do badly, their ignorance getting on her nerves - Lara led them back into the forest and just had them pick up wood she found.

They did provide the evenings entertainment, though quite by accident. Lara sat, whittling at a branch to make kindling and tools to start a fire, and watched them waste their lighters and matches trying to start the branches themselves on fire.

Lara had long ago learned not to rely on matches and lighters. On an adventure near the Arctic Circle, she had the opportunity to follow a group of Inuit hunters, and one of them had taught her how to start a fire using their traditional methods. Since the Inuit had so little wood to work with, they could hardly afford to charcoal it with half-successful techniques. Their bow-and-spindle method had proven so effective that Lara just stopped bothering to carry a lighter with her.

Lara leaned down hard on the spindle, making sure there was plenty of wood shavings around its base, and began rapidly moving the bow. The loud, rhythmic squeaking caught everyone's attention and they turned to watch in amazement as a little smoke, then a spark, then finally a flame emerged. Once the kindling was going, Lara lit the thin end of a branch. Once that was burning well, she used it to start the logs in the pit.

"Where did you learn all this?" Anthony asked, his voice filled with admiration.

Lara shrugged. "Oh, a little here, a little there."


"It's been days." Bernadette commented as she stepped up beside Lara and took a seat beside her.

Squatting atop a fallen tree, Lara looked up at the young woman and briefly studied her features. Black hair and olive skin set off bright blue eyes - the typical American broad genetic background - made her striking.

Bernadette looked like she was gathering her courage for her next words. "Are they even looking for us?"

"I'm sure they are." Lara answered. "But it's a big, dense forest. We'll just have to be patient."

"I wish I had never come to South America."

Lara smiled. "Pish posh, girl. You're certainly getting your moneys worth. I rather doubt anyone else can claim such a thorough and intimate tour of the Panama-Costa Rica Friendship Park. Imagine how jealous your friends back home are going to be when you tell them."

Bernadette looked at her dubiously for a moment, but Lara's mirthful smile drew out the laugh she was looking for.


Lara sat quietly and looked at the body that was only moments ago the woman called Maria.

There was nothing I could do.

Lara wanted to believe it.

She needed to be in hospital. She needed rescue. We did our best.

The image of Maria's panicked and pleading eyes refused to leave her.

It wasn't enough.

Lara sighed, and found she had to fight down a small sob.

I'm sorry, Maria.


"Look, we wouldn't have considered it, except for this." Anthony said, holding up one of Lara's travel books. "It's been almost two weeks. I think we should start before anyone gives up hope entirely."

Lara took the book from his hands and read the cover. Off the beaten path in Latin America. She had discussed her trek out of the Olmec tombs in Guatemala in that book. She had survived the open jungle alone, and now her fellow survivors wanted her to guide them to civilization based on that trek.

"What about Teddy?" Lara asked.

"I can limp along." Teddy answered. "With the wood splint and the crutches Bernadette and Jill made for me, I can keep up. I won't be breaking any speed records, though. I just want out of the jungle and into civilization again."

"Angela?" Lara looked questioningly at the old woman.

Angela waved off her doubts with a gesture of disgust. "I was running around these forests before you were born."

Lara looked at their anxious faces briefly, then turned her gaze back to the cover of the book. She was anxious to get going. She didn't like the idea of being in any way responsible for more lives than her own. She'd have already been home if it weren't for that - not that she blamed them.

They've made their choice. They've survived this long.

"Alright, fine. But we don't just rush off. We have to plan."


Don't get angry with them. It's not worth it. Hell, it's not even appropriate. They don't do this like you do, Lara.

Lara leaned against the tree root knee and watched the group reassemble. They were all panting and looking longingly at their water supply.

At least they're disciplined enough not to drink more than their ration.

Lara shifted the weight of her water-laden piece of raft tubing. It had been smart of Teddy, Lara thought, to use the rafts this way. Lara figured they had about ten gallons of water with them, which wasn't a great deal, but it would do. For that matter, they were lucky it had rained at all.

Teddy was surprising. He hadn't been the straggler of the group as even he had been certain he'd be given his broken leg. His youth and his hobbies of Rugby and Football were serving him very well.

Instead Anthony most often took the straggler position. His office job and sedentary lifestyle threatened to kill him out in the wilds. Even Angela had been able to move faster than he had. Lara found his red-faced, hoarse gasping to be very worrisome.

Jill stepped up beside Lara, tapping the face of her watch with increasing violence. Red-faced and sneering, Jill rapidly undid the band from around her wrist, then began beating it against the tree Lara was leaning against, a low, irritated growl emanating from deep in her throat. The watch quickly disintegrated to it's component parts and Jill watched them rain to the ground. With fists wrapped so taut her knuckles were white, Jill took a moment to cool down.

"You would think", Jill said quietly, "that they could make a five dollar watch that could survive something as commonplace as a plane crash into a damp environment."

Lara raised her eyebrows and peered at the young woman through the rose lenses of her sunglasses. Teddy, Bernadette and Angela observed nervously from their seats as Anthony finished catching up.

Slowly a smirk formed on both of their faces, then smiles and finally laughter.


The sky was only visible in small patches through the leaves overhead, but that didn't stop Lara from enjoying the stars. Lying on a couple of large leaves with her head on her backpack atop a fallen tree, she found herself actually enjoying the predicament they were in. It felt like a real vacation in many ways. There was still the fun she always had being out in the wilderness, and the (so far) easily available food made it a bit more like a trip through a realistic theme park. The mix of tourists that were her accidental companions added to that illusion.

In moment such as this, when she wasn't exasperated at having to wait when she'd rather be pushing on, Lara was willing to concede that they were doing impressively well. Luck had placed her with a stalwart bunch of people, even though none of them had ever been more than a picnic's distance away from city life.

Though his wheezing still worried her, Anthony never once complained or asked her to slow the pace. He seemed determined, despite his obvious fatigue, to be a contributor to their survival, gathering wood and fruits after they chose a campsite for the evening without ever being asked.

Angela was equally impressive in her insistence that she not be a burden. She carried her water and trudged on, a determined look on her face that Lara found a little comical while entirely admirable at the same time.

David's transformation was surprising. He had stopped talking almost entirely after Maria died from her injuries and had become something of a robot. Though preferable to his leering, chatting and boasting persona it was still a bit worrisome.

Jill and Bernadette managed to surprise Lara the most, however. They had begun their adventure well, being immediately willing to help and work hard to ensure survival, but that's not what surprised Lara the most.

Throughout her life, Lara had been picky about friends. Though never being antisocial, she counted very few people as especially tolerable, never mind people she would willingly call friends. After she walked out of the Himalayas, her few friends dead in the cold upper reaches of the roof of the world, Lara had distanced herself further from her fellow humans.

But these two young women were managing to work their way past those muscular defenses. Only two nights previous, as the fire crackled and others slept, Lara was jolted by the realization that she was engaged in girl talk with them. Something she hadn't done since finishing school in Switzerland.

She had nearly cut them off, wanting instinctively to reinforce her defenses and distance herself from them. She found she couldn't, and then found she didn't want to. It was fun having someone to talk to again, and these two very much reminded her of her own youth in many ways. They were both very certain about what they were going to pursue once they finished their education. Bernadette's family was pressuring her into marrying this fellow whom she described as "profoundly dull". Lara felt total empathy, reminded of the acutely English upper-class twit her parents had picked out for her.

A rustle from outside the camp broke her reverie. Silently she drew one of the pistols from its holster and rolled from her perch into a defensive crouch on the ground. Whatever it was, it didn't mind the fire, and it was sounding very human.

A shadowy form materialized from the denser bush before her. She stood suddenly and aimed her weapon at the intruder.

"Don't move." She ordered.

The figure's hands shot into the air in the classic surrender position, a startled "Oh!" escaping his lips.

"It's David!" He said.

Feeling a little embarrassed at her overreaction Lara re-holstered her weapon.

"Sorry chap. I'm a little jumpy tonight." Lara apologized, then looked confused. "What were you doing so far outside camp? I don't remember you passing on the way out."

David stuffed his hands into his pockets and shuffled his feet while studying the patch of ground before him, clearly embarrassed. "Uh, had to relive myself. I lost track of the fire."

Lara smirked, both teasingly and with some sympathy - she had managed the same mistake on an outing during her teen years.

"Well, I'm glad it was temporary." She said. "Best get some shut-eye, then."

David nodded his head in agreement, his face still aimed toward the ground, but didn't move.

"Lara?"

"Yes?"

"Uh, I heard something... a rumor... and I was wondering."

"Go on." Lara encouraged, curious.

"What's it like... to kill? I mean, how do you deal with death like that?" He shuffled again, uncomfortable. "I've never seen that before. I'm lost now. She was there, and then she wasn't. Is it like that all the time? Does it get easier?"

Lara sighed quietly, crossing her arms and leaning back against the felled tree behind her. Looking down, she paused for a moment to consider her answer.

"No." She nearly whispered. "Both because anyone's death marks one's own mortality, and because not one of them has ever left me. I still see their faces, David. I remember each one's death vividly. Whether I pulled the trigger, or failed to manage a miracle, each moment asserts itself - assaulting me." Lara sighed and looked at David. "At least with Maria, we tried to save her. We might feel guilty about failing, but at least it wasn't deliberate. It wasn't our doing."

David glanced up at her, then dropped his gaze again. A small and mirthless chuckle flitted from his throat.

"It's strange." He said. "I loved women because of death. Sex made it go away for me." He paused to snort. "I flirted with her. Pretty young stewardess, fit, healthy... I saw her wedding ring, but she flirted right back. Probably wouldn't have done anything about it, either of us. I like that feeling anyway. Being wanted like that. But, seeing her after we crashed. Helpless... in pain. Then dying. Then dead. It really hit me." He covered his eyes with one hand, rubbing at them. "It's there for us all, Lara. Death is. Most of us waste our time anyway, pissing away our time like we were immortal. Stabbing each other, fucking each other... whatever it takes to forget we're next on the gallows."

He turned to face Lara directly, looking into her eyes.

"You, though. You live for real. You do what you want, and you face death all the time. I think... I think I'll never know what life really is, like you do. I think no matter what I do I'll always be this little piss-ant office troll, stuck with my little black-and-white world. I'll never be willing to risk myself for others, or even to get what I want like you do." He smiled. "You do both. People condemn you for one and praise you for the other. Easy enough to praise when you give them what they want - protection from visions of their own deaths. Easy enough to condemn when you're jealous they can't get off their ass and get what they want..." He trailed off, shaking his head.

"I don't think that..."

David raised his hand, cutting her off.

"No, please. I know now. I've seen it for myself." He shrugged. "I can accept it without sugar coating it. Didn't used to be able to. Always talking myself up. I'm not the engineer for Montreal, you know. And I'll bet you knew. I'm just one of his analysts. Not even a very good one. Used to hate that. Now, it's Ok. I can be that."

Lara smiled. "Strange as it sounds, that makes you better than you were."

David shrugged again. "Maybe. Maybe it only means I can improve now. Maybe it only means I'll be just as lifeless, but aware of it. I know that it doesn't really matter anymore."

David started back toward his bed of leaves. Lara caught him by his shoulder and turned him toward her. Taking his head in her hands, she kissed him lightly.

"Why?" David asked, so softly Lara almost couldn't hear.

"Why not?" Lara answered.

Reaching up to guide an errant lock of her dark chestnut hair back behind her ear with a gentle and caressing gesture, his face slowly formed a diminutive smile.

"Thanks." He said, turning and heading back to camp.


"Damn it." Lara muttered under her breath as the group of survivors gathered around her.

"Can't we just find a tree that fell across it?" Anthony asked.

Lara looked from the gorge to Anthony, one eyebrow raised incredulously.

"Really, Anthony, you've watched a few too many movies." She chuckled. "We might find such a tree, but it probably won't be strong enough to support us, and we might end up circumnavigating the gorge anyway looking for one." She returned her attention to the fairly shallow crevasse. "No, we likely should climb down."

Teddy studied the crevasse. "I can do it. It's really rough, plenty of short ledges. Must be tectonically created."

Lara looked to Angela, who's face was a mask of fear. "Angela? Feeling up to it?"

Angela, unable to tear her eyes from the drop, shook her head slowly indicating she was not.

Jill and Bernadette Flanked her, soothing her by clasping her shoulders.

"We'll help. We can take it a little bit at a time, and we'll make sure you don't fall." Jill said.

Angela bit her lip with worry, trying to decide. David started over the edge, feeling about with his feet for purchase. He dropped suddenly, landing so his head was still somewhat visible.

"Oh, this isn't going to be hard at all." He reported. "There really are ledges everywhere. Looks like the longest drop is about six or seven feet."

Somewhat galvanized by David's report and the young women's encouragement, Angela took a few steps forward and peered into the gorge. It looked very deep to her, but she could see now how rough and slanted the walls were. David was directly below her, holding his arms up as if to catch her.

Lara smiled as they all began helping Angela into the fissure. Teddy began picking his way down anxiously, followed by Anthony. She watched briefly, then followed.

Lara found the decent to be almost effortless compared to some of the heavy climbing she had done before. She leapt from point to point, pausing frequently to check on the progress of the others.

I could get used to this, she thought, if only everyone was willing to be as resolute as these six, I could see taking people on tour with me now and again. Then again, they do have rather a lot of motivation in wanting to stay alive.

As they gathered in a group on the rocky bottom of the ravine, Lara paused near the edge of her last ledge about fifteen feet above them. She leapt forward, and grabbing her legs, rolled once and landed with catlike agility beside them.

"Show off." Anthony mumbled.

Lara gave him a huge, comically self-satisfied grin as she strode past, eliciting a chuckle from everyone. She paused, looking down, then started walking up the ravine, waving for everyone to follow.

Teddy announced what she was following with some excitement. "Running water!"

They followed the tiny stream until they reached its source. A spring from the wall they had just climbed gurgled before them.

"Fresh water, anyone?" Lara asked, scooping up a double handful and putting it to her lips.

Cheerfully everyone followed suit each drinking his or her fill. They took advantage to wash up a little given the effectively infinite supply of water now available.

"Oh! It's nice to feel a little more human again." Bernadette said, finding a flat rock on which to lounge.

Lara hummed agreement, taking the time to relax and rest for the climb out. Sleep skulked up on her.

"Hey, where's Jill?" She heard Teddy ask, startling her.

Lara sat up and did a quick scan. The sun was very low on the horizon, making for near darkness in the gorge. She couldn't see very far given the curve of the gorge, but by the same limits, Jill couldn't have gone far.

"Jill?" Anthony bellowed.

"Hello? Jill?" Teddy called again.

"Hang on! I'm coming!" Jill called back from what sounded a mile away.

After a moment, Jill reappeared holding a makeshift bag made from one of her shirts.

"Dinner's served! I found a berry bush!"

A round of pleased and hungry sounds greeted her as she opened the shirt. It was full of slightly overripe blackberries and a few of the mango-like fruits that were apparently in-season this time of year, seeing as they were fairly easy to find.

They ate every last bit and chose to make camp where they were. Lara wanted to use the last hour of sunlight to make a little more progress, but was soundly voted down.

Smiling and amused, Lara settled in against the gorge wall and found she was still feeling tired herself. She faded into slumber, thinking that this little adventure was actually somewhat enjoyable.


Everyone had expected the climb out to be more difficult than the climb in; thus was the nature of gravity after all. No one had expected it to be quite this hard.

Teddy was doing well, considering his handicap, but Anthony and Angela were having a very hard time of it. Lara, Bernadette, Jill and David did their best to help, one pair helping them up the ledge pushing, the other by pulling from above. It worked, but Lara figured they were expending five or six times the energy they would have otherwise. She didn't expect to be able to push anyone more than an hour or two, once they reached the top. That meant the gorge was going to cost them two days time total.

Not that there was a schedule to keep.

If they happened across a boar Lara decided she'd hunt it. The protein was important, and now even more so. They were probably starting to burn muscle protein in order to use the vitamins they were getting from their fruit and berry diet. That reminded Lara to inform the group that their urine would be reddish orange because of it. No use having them panic thinking they were bleeding internally.

Lara launched herself up to the next ledge as David helped Angela settle in for the next step. A rush of pebbles spattered Jill and Bernadette, who complained loudly again about it.

A surprised cry from David made Lara whip around in time to see the lower ledge begin to slide downward, separating from the wall along a fissure.

She grabbed for Angela, falling to her stomach to make the reach, but her hands grasped only air. She was blinded for a moment by a cloud of fine dust and could only hear David's warning to those below and the deafening sound of the stone striking another ledge - Lara's stomach knotted.

"David! Angela!" She called.

"Help!" David called back.

Focusing on his voice Lara navigated the wall by feel, finding David hanging from the upper ledge by one hand, his other holding a terrified and struggling Angela by the back of her shirt over the now direct route to the floor of the gorge, sixty feet or so below.

"Angela!" Lara barked in her best commanding voice. "Stop struggling! Don't move!"

"My... arms... hurt." David said, his voice as strained as his muscles.

Lara, back on her stomach, began wadding David's shirt in her hands, making it into a harness.

With a yell of pure determined effort, Lara hauled him up. He hauled on the ledge, and on Angela, who also grabbed hold and pulled. They fell into a pile of strained limbs and painful panting.

"Jill and Bern..." David pinched out the words, turning to look down.

The dust was settling now, and both women were standing on either side of Anthony, who had a streak of red running from his temple to his pants and was sitting on the ground, leaned up against the ravine wall. Lara disentangled herself and made her way down to them in haste.

"He pushed me." Bernadette said, in tears. "I was dead, it was going to hit me, and then he pushed me."

He was a mess; his scalp was partly cleaved from his skull, bone showing through and the blood flowing freely. Lara wasted no time, folding the skin back into place and washing it liberally with water from Jill's raft-derived canteen. She used the only large triangular bandage she had to compress the wound and hold the avulsion in place. It was immediately soaked in the crimson of his life's fluid.

"Why?" Bernadette asked.

The eye beneath the wound shifted its gaze to her; the other seemed to drift at random. "Logical, you're more likely to survive."

"Anthony, do you know who I am?" Lara asked.

He looked up with the one eye he still had under his control, but failed to answer.

"Anthony, do you know who..."

"What time is it?" He asked, interrupting.

"Ah, it's just after eleven." Jill answered, guessing.

"Oh." He said, and closed his eyes.

"No, Anthony!" Lara barked, startling him. "Stay awake."

"What do we do?" Jill asked.

"I don't know."

"Oh, Jesus! What do we do?" Bernadette snapped, panicking.

"I don't know! Damn it, girl, get a hold of yourself." Lara shouted back.

Anthony cut off any argument by retching, forcing Lara to make sure he didn't choke on it. He coughed loud and forcefully a few times, and then sat back up.

He seemed to notice Lara as if for the first time. "Do you know what time it is?" He asked.

"Oh, god." Lara whispered.

"Lara? How is he?" David called from the top of the crevasse wall. "Do you need us back down there?"

"No." Lara called. "Stay there."

"What? We need to get him out of here!" Bernadette pleaded.

Lara looked at Anthony, who had curled his arms and hands up around his chest in a stiff, unnatural way. His jaw was clenched tight.

"I'm sorry, Berna... he wouldn't make it to the top."

"No!" She cried. "No, he saved me! He can't die!"

"Bernadette, his brain is swelling. He needs hospital, and he needs it right now. There is nothing we can do to save him." She said as gently as she was able.

"No!" Bern demanded, falling to her knees and putting her hands on Anthony in a futile protective gesture.

She startled and backed off when he began to seize. Shaking violently, his arms pulled even tighter against his chest, he began to emit a low, guttural and animal wail from deep in his throat. It was horrifying, and Bernadette screamed in fear, counter-pointing his howl.

"Go!" Lara demanded, pushing Bernadette and Jill both toward the crevasse wall. "Go to the others. I'll stay with him. Go!"

Bernadette protested tearfully, but began to climb - she couldn't stand seeing him suffering and wanted desperately to run away.

Lara held out one of her pistols, aimed at his head. His wail had become a loud, nearly continuous primal scream that abraded on the edges of her sanity and threatened to draw out a scream from her own throat. His anguish seemed unbearable, but she couldn't pull the trigger. He tossed his head against the stone wall again and again, leaving crimson spatters and making a disgusting dull thudding noise.

Lara clenched her teeth, and through tears and a grieving growl of frustration tinged with pity, forced her finger to pull back on the trigger.

The forest went silent.

Lara stumbled back and slid down against the wall. For the first time in over a decade, she openly and unreservedly wept.


For two days the six trekked without uttering more than a few words. Bernadette wanted to travel well into the night, trying to run physically from the memories that haunted her in her mind. Lara gently forbade it, as the jungle was dangerous enough when you could see where you stepped.

Angela had begun mothering David, offering to carry his water, tending scrapes and cuts, and even bringing him his food when they had some. Lara guessed that it was her way of trying to repay him for halting her plummet, and consequently saving her life. David seemed annoyed by it.

They were all very irritable, and everyone distanced himself or herself physically and socially from Lara. Watching Anthony die so hideously had left them all with terrible empathic scars - and no one was comfortable with Lara's decision to euthanize him, least of all Lara herself.

Loner that she was, Lara could let it be.

David, however, apparently could not. He made the mistake of letting his emotions steal control.

"So, I'm curious. Do we all get shot in the head if we falter?" He growled at her, quite suddenly and very unexpectedly.

Lara stopped, but didn't turn around. "David, don't. I didn't have a choice. He was going to die no matter what anyone did. I couldn't let him suffer. Not like that."

"Right." David snarled. "Now we know where you get your bloodthirsty reputation."

David discovered himself on the ground, his jaw throbbing from an unexpected and powerful impact. A rugged boot on the back of his neck prevented him from rising.

"You think I enjoyed that, you little wanker? Are you honestly under the impression that I wanted to see him die? If you are you're a damn sight less of a human than you rate me to be! After that flowery little speech you gave me, you have the audacity to make me your emotional whipping girl!" Lara snarled and ground her boot in, David whimpered. "Well, I won't damn well have it! You weren't bloody well even there. You didn't watch him bleed, you didn't see him slowly fall apart, you didn't see him pound his head against the wall over and over again as he screamed."

With one last push against his neck, Lara moved her boot to allow him to get up.

"Now get your finger out and march before I kick you in the knackers."

He stood, and looked guilty.

"Look, I..." He started.

"Shut your gob."

Lara turned and resumed the trek.

Later, Jill kicked David for causing Lara to keep a harder pace.


Lara had gotten far ahead of her five companions. Still aggravated by David's unwarranted attack, she was working off her anger through exercise. It seemed a better tack than pounding his head in, tempting as that was.

Lara slowed, then stopped. That anger was pushed to the back of her mind as she realized how many bushy plants were around her, replacing the usual scraggly underbrush they had been fighting since the start of the journey. It was coca, Lara noted. Most importantly, it was coca that was being cared for.

Where Lara was not interested in meeting the field's caretakers, she was interested in the trail that would undoubtedly lead to some civilization.

"What's wrong?" Bernadette asked, the group having caught up while Lara was looking at the field.

"I am happy to say that nothing is wrong, Bernadette. Quite the opposite, as a matter of fact." Lara waved her hand in an arc indicating all the coca plants. "This is a tended field of coca, which means there will be a trail around it somewhere."

"Coca? Like Coca-Cola?" Bernadette said, looking befuddled.

"Coca, like cocaine." David announced. "Which comes from this plant."

"Mi Dios." Angela whispered. " Dios, defiéndanos contra los fabricantes de la cocaína."

"Yes." Lara agreed with the sentiment. "We are probably much safer avoiding meeting whomever tends this field."

"Why?" Teddy wondered. "What do they care?"

"Just trust me on this. They don't care to take any risk of discovery, there is too much money at stake for them. If we see anyone, we hide. If they see us, we run."

Teddy looked incredulous, but nodded agreement, no one else seemed to doubt Lara's word, especially Angela - who seemed especially agitated.

"No matter which, make sure I'm between you and them."

"Why?" Jill asked.

"Because I'm the one with the pistols."


What at first seemed a small field turned out instead to be one of several in a large plantation. Lara cursed their luck, as an operation of significant size meant a greater chance of coming across the unsavory version of the local people. To make matters worse still, several fields had large portions of their leaves recently harvested, meaning that production was underway somewhere.

Traipsing about the tropics of Latin America looking for Olmec, Mayan and Aztec artifacts had given Lara quite a few detailed lessons in the cocaine trade. Every lesson had a common theme: No one ever taught the "drug lords" how to share. It went far beyond their product. They typically didn't tolerate anyone being anywhere close to their operations, from the growing fields to the usually expertly hidden refining facilities, they universally destroyed anyone they didn't invite or compel to be there.

Once they had found the trail, Lara had taken a vote about whether to use it or parallel it. She had explained that the cleared trail meant they could make far better time, but the danger of doing so was obvious. Lara had been surprised that even Angela - a Costa Rican native who seemed to know better - had voted to use the trail. The journey had definitely worn at them, and they were all very willing to take a risk or two to speed their ascent. Had Lara bothered, hers would have been the only dissenting vote.

The trail wound among the trees, using the thickest parts of the forest canopy to cover for the missing underbrush. Even so, Lara estimated they were able to travel almost twice as fast for the same effort.

It was nice to make such quick time for as long as they did. They camped one night without a fire, Lara preferring they each take a watch instead, so that they wouldn't attract the attention of a far more dangerous predator.

They got a slightly later start for it, and everyone had to deal with being damp from dew after the sun rose. It was obvious no one liked it, but no one complained either.

Lara stopped, sensing a sudden change in the trail that didn't seem to correspond with the landscape.

"What?" Teddy asked.

"Shh." Lara hushed him, listening. There was a muffled sound that Lara was having a very difficult time placing. She studied the land before them, looking for anything that might explain it.

Teddy started to wander ahead.

Lara gave his back a quick glare, but chose to pull out her binoculars instead of chastise the young man for not obeying her wishes, seeing as he was under no real obligation to do so.

She scanned the trees ahead, getting a closer look with the aid of the binoculars. There was a quick glint, and a shadow.

"Oh, damn." She swore. "Teddy! Get back here!" She bit back on the yell, the command coming out in a strained whisper.

Part of the ground just ahead of Teddy's meandering path flipped itself over to reveal a passage. Both Teddy and the fellow emerging from underground looked entirely surprised by the chance meeting.

Lara's binoculars hit the ground.

Teddy took a quick step back, hobbled by his injured leg and unable to run, as he seemed to fervently wish to do.

Lara's pistols were in her hands.

Teddy's head exploded.

"Run!" Lara screamed. Her guns burst forth with blazing muzzles and cut down the rifleman in the forest.

Four rounds.

The passage proved not to be the only way in or out of wherever it led. Lara found herself facing a line of armed men.

She picked the closest guard, who was still trying to understand what was going on, and brought him down. Chaos followed.

Six rounds.

Lara turned parallel to the line of guards who were galvanized into action. From the corner of her eye she spotted Bernadette leading the flight from danger. Keeping her guns in the general direction of the armed drug runners, Lara began to run as well, trying to keep the guards heads down with gunfire.

Ten rounds.

The air around her split from the passing of projectiles from hastily fired assault rifles. She heard the bullets strike the trees behind her. She took the opportunity when one of the men's rifles jammed and he paused to actuate the breech. He fell with a startled cry as a fine red mist formed about his chest.

Fourteen rounds.

Lara dove and rolled behind a tree, stopping on one knee. One man had started a pursuit. She ended it.

Seventeen rounds.

A spray of wood splinters forced her to find other cover. She refused to retreat further, some sense of urgency requiring her to protect her remaining companions. A drug-runner rounded the tree she had ducked behind and startled, he had expected her to be on the run. His surprise was short lived.

Nineteen rounds.

Lara broke cover to get a glimpse of what they were up to. Her timing was unfortunate, an Uzi barked and she was again sprayed with splinters from near misses. She returned fire, rolling away from the danger.

Twenty-three rounds.

Lara moved in a swift crouch, rounding two trees. When she broke cover again, she could see two pursuers looking for her where she used to be.

Twenty-eight rounds.

Lara counted only one man left. If he were smart, he'd have backed off to call in reinforcements. Unfortunately, she noted those guards who chose Uzis over more stalwart weapons such as the AK-47s being used by his companions tended to be significantly more stupid.

She popped her head around her cover and back again. A spray of nine-millimeter bullets seemed to prove her correct.

Keeping the tree between him and her retreat, she backed away to find new cover again, trying to draw him forward.

She tripped over something.

A body.

"Bernadette?" Lara called.

The crimson pool around her chest and the empty stare toward the sky told Lara that no reply was likely. She felt an empty spot open in her stomach as it knotted. Her eyes threatened to tear.

Lara was forced from her grief when her pursuer rounded her old cover. She fired a few random shots to prevent him from cutting her in half as she dove behind a fallen tree.

Thirty-one rounds.

One round left.

They took up positions on opposite sides. Lara could hear his labored breathing.

"Diga sus rezos, pendeja. Usted está a punto de morir."

Lara chose not to reply, waiting for what she knew was coming. One of the weaknesses of using an Uzi in combat was not being able to count how many rounds you've used. She heard him draw out his clip.

She stood, swiveled and brought her gun to his head. His face was a mask of sheer terror, but he began to bring his weapon around, intending to use the cartridge already chambered.

Lara pulled the trigger long before he could finish aiming.

It clicked.

She had forgotten about the bullet used for Anthony.

His weapon discharged. Lara fell back, a blazing, white-hot pain burning trough her.

The man's terror slowly bled away from his face, to be replaced with a feral grin. He laughed, obviously relived to have been the victor, and made an elaborate show of putting the clip back in his weapon and chambering the first round.

Lara fought to move, but the pain was all consuming.

"Adios, mujer." He smirked.

His head jerked forward and he looked stunned. He tried to turn, but his head jerked again, accompanied by a thudding noise and a loud crack. He fell, Jill standing behind him with a large rock.

She knelt and struck again.

And again.

She growled as her rage and frustration boiled to the surface.

She struck again.

"Jill." Lara murmured.

She ignored Lara, or was simply unaware. She caved the drug runner's skull in, but kept pounding.

"Jill!" Lara managed to yell.

Jill faltered, then fell back against the fallen tree and began to weep, holding her bloodstained hands out in front of her.

Lara's vision darkened, and she was enfolded by a comfortable sort of nothingness.


Just breathing was painful, never mind trudging along beside a river in a thick tropical forest. That insistent bit of her psyche, the same bit that had made her walk out of the Himalayas so long ago, forced her to put one foot in front of the other.

David's dressings of her bullet-wounded shoulder had proven more than sufficient - verging on the expert. The wound was - thankfully - of the variety often called "clean". Which is to say, it wasn't an immediate threat to her life and didn't have a gaping exit wound. The small advantage of point-blank when it came to the nine-millimeter variety of sidearm.

Luck alone prevented the wide variety of secondary complications such a wound often brought, such as pneumothorax.

Upon waking, Lara had asked after Jill. She remembered with no small amount of anguish the first time she had been forced to kill. It wasn't an easy feeling to get over and she was very worried about Jill's reaction.

David informed her both of Jill's stoic and unspoken ostensible acceptance and of having lost Angela. His words were almost lost as his own self control crumbled and he began to sob. She had been someone he once saved from death, her fate - even if only assumed - was more than he could take.

Finding the river had helped their morale. Lara announced that there were three things that always meant you could find civilization: Roads, power lines, and rivers.

Still, the trek was somber and their overall mood was melancholy.

The river led them to a bridge and a road, which in turn led them to the small town of Katsi. They were immediately taken by the town's ancient ambulance to Bribrí where Lara received initial treatment for her wound.

After an annoying interrogation by the local police, they were subjected to a profoundly annoying interrogation by the DEA. Lara found it enraging that they were far more interested in the location of the cocaine processing facility than they were in helping bring back the bodies of those lost to random chance.

There were families who were mourning and needed the closure. There were families who needed to know their sons had performed the incredible feat of bringing a dying plane down so there was a chance of survival, trading in their lives for the sake of others.

Hitting yet another in an infinite line of cocaine manufacturing quarters meant less than nothing to her. Short of the total destruction of every last coca plant on the planet, there was no stopping one of the most profitable businesses in the world.

She vented her frustrations on one of the DEA officers in the form of a long string of subtle insults and allusions to a simian ancestry. He ended his career by slapping her.

It took four Costa Rican federal officers to pull Lara off the frightened DEA agent.

At the airport in Limón, Lara and Jill finally talked about the last moments of the fight with the drug runners. Lara breached the subject by thanking Jill for saving her life. It was tearful and frustrating and bonding, both women discovering an odd friendship and camaraderie stemming from their shared misadventure.

Neither noticed David slip away to his fight back to Montreal whilst they embraced in their good-byes.

Settling into her first class seat on the British Airways airliner, Lara figured David was just not ready to face the deep changes such an experience always brought. He had a lot of healing to do - as they all did - and she hoped he had good friends back home who would help him through it.

Her only regret with David was not having the opportunity to come to terms with him over their shared animosity over Anthony's death.

The powerful aircraft rose from the ground, gently pushing Lara back into the padding of her seat. The pilot announced they would be dealing with some significant turbulence from a growing tropical storm off the coast.

Lara laughed loudly, garnering some rather rude stares from her fellow passengers.


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