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There had never been a shortage of treasure hunters, mercenaries, grave robbers and general pests that desired the same object as Lara. Sometimes, she could admit, she had even learned of an interesting ancient site through attempts of others to reach it. But really, if it was still her who managed to get there first, despite the other interested parties having a head start, then didn’t that just mean that she was the one who deserved the prize?
And if they tried to take from her what she had found, then all that decided the winner was really only who held the artefact in their hands when it was all over. In many cases, stubborn as her rivals could be, the “it” that was over were simply their lives.
Sometimes Lara wondered where all those people were coming from. Oh, mercenaries, those she could understand. If they got paid what they thought they deserved, they were willing to do most anything and there never seemed to be a shortage of guns for hire. But independent treasure hunters? Or even hired ones, but still primarily in the business of finding long lost objects… how those came to be?
And being in an admittedly similar business to Lara, why did they think it was good for their health to confront her? Oh, or maybe it was because she didn’t give them the chance to learn. Dead people couldn’t cash in their experiences anymore, and they also couldn’t warn other individuals in their line of work to not try the same thing.
Not that Lara particularly cared if they wanted to throw away their lives, disposing of them hardly gave her much trouble – mercenaries were the more troublesome ones in that case, being better trained for combat and usually coming in larger numbers – and sometimes they could even be useful triggering a trap or catching the attention of some wild animal or an ancient guardian.
So Lara didn’t particularly mind the presence of other people searching for artefact just like she was, even if they sometimes made it a little more complicated. Even if they sometimes found a key before she could or – when they were really lucky – stole her weapons and forced her to be a little more creative for a while before getting them back.
But there was a special kind of thieves that brought nothing advantageous to her adventures. They also didn’t bring anything too horrible, didn’t pose much danger to her. They were simply… annoying. Pests, yes, that really was a word she could use for them.
And when it came to them, she also didn’t have to wonder where they came from.
Lara knew she needed that golden key with three large rubies in its handle. She knew it because the design fit perfectly with the ornate lock she had seen in a crumbling but sturdy wall, overgrown by thick foliage. She had been so close! And once she were inside, it couldn’t be far before she found an entrance to the temple proper, and then… well, she wasn’t sure what would be there, but that was part of the fun. Maybe nothing but dust and spider webs, but even then the architecture would be worth a look. And she could still keep the beautiful key on her way out…
That is, if she managed to get the key in the first place. Mercenaries, treasure hunters, crazy fanatics, none of them were quite like the biggest pest of them all. And Lara could see it, in her mad dash through the jungle, she could see! She was getting close to the thief!
But the thief was not only cunning and small, but also nimble, and Lara had to change her course swiftly – not left or right, but up, into the trees, running over thick branches and jumping across the gaps with nary a thought, determined not to lose the sight of the vermin again.
Aware that she was getting further and further from the place with the keyhole and slightly worried that it would be difficult to find again if she ended up in a part of the jungle she hadn’t explored, she reached for her pistols.
She didn’t have to do it. Usually, she shot only who or what attacked her first, or would have attacked her the moment she came closer. This one wasn’t attacking her.
But covered in sweat and small stinging cuts, Lara didn’t actually give a damn. The little thief deserved it, she thought as she took aim.
She hated monkeys.