“Guns? Who was firing?”
“The Chinese army. You see, we had been used. Your parents thought they’d been hired by a museum, when really it was the army tricking them. After we took the urn, the army announced that Tibetan rebels had stolen it to install a new Dalai Lama and overthrow Chinese rule. It was the excuse they needed to round up a dozen freedom fighters and execute them in the streets.”
“Execute?”
“They shot them like dogs. One was my sister. Another was my husband.”
“No…” Pan gasped.
“Yes,” Takara said. Her hands tightened, curling like claws. She gazed at the scratches in the cave floor and her eyes glistened.
“Your parents fled,” she continued. “They tried to convince me to come with them, but I could never leave my country. I would never forgive myself, or them. They gave me their word. My foolishness and their lies got my people killed.”
“That was why they really stopped treasure hunting,” Pan realized. “But it wasn’t their fault. They were tricked.”
“They gave me their word. I knew when you came back that you could not be trusted, none of you. So I came here to warn the monks. They offered you a chance to show them respect, yet here you are. Once again the Atlas family breaks their word.”
“Our parents don’t know we’re here,” Pan insisted. “They told us not to try to find the Drak Terma.”
“But still you did. I knew it would end this way. Before I even left for this place I sent word of where you were headed.”
A trap door opened in my stomach. I edged forward, trying to stay calm, praying I’d misunderstood. “What do you mean ‘sent word’? Takara, what did you do?”
“What I had to, to protect this place.”
“You didn’t tell the People of the Snake?”
“No, not them. I told a hunter, an old colleague. There is an open hunt on your head, remember.”
“You idiot!” Pan seethed. “You don’t know how dangerous those people are. You worked with them twenty years ago. They’re not the same. You think a nice old hunter is going to come and take us away in handcuffs? Whoever’s coming is going to do more damage to this place than we would ever have.”
For the first time her smile faltered. “No,” she said. “He promised to give half of the reward to the monastery, to help protect this library.”
“And you believed him?” Pan snapped. “We have to get out of here before—”
The cavern jolted, as though someone had rammed into it with a bulldozer, and I tumbled to the ground again. Another hit, this time even harder, caused rocks to dislodge from the walls and crash down around us. I scrambled up, covering my head as a third colossal strike shook the cave.
“How did you get in here?” I screamed to Takara.
She stared around the shaking cavern, baffled, terrified.
“You followed us in here,” Pan cried. “How?”
“There’s a secret route, higher up. But I don’t understand. What’s happening?”
“Whoever you called,” I yelled, “is here.”
20
We scrambled after Takara as she led us to a ladder and another bridge higher across the chasm, away from the firetrap. We raced behind her, no longer even thinking about the flames that had almost roasted us alive. The cave shuddered, and rocks plummeted past us, only just missing the bridge. As I reached the other side, a chunk of stone hit the side of my face, knocking off my smart-goggles. I dropped to the ground, tasted blood in my mouth, and my world turned crimson. The rock floor jolted as something slammed into the side of the mountain. It felt as if a tank was firing at the monastery.
I grabbed my goggles as Pan helped me up, and we continued after Takara along the passage. The entrance by the prayer wheels was still open, and we stumbled out onto the mountain ledge. More rocks fell from above, smashing prayer wheels and sending them spinning off down the slope.
“Jake, what’s happening?” Pan screamed.
I didn’t answer; I had no idea.
We ran across the ledge, trying to make sense of the chaos. Something was firing at the mountain from the valley. One of the monastery chambers had been blown to rubble and, as I watched, a falling boulder smashed through the roof of another. Flames lashed out of one of the chambers, where a gas line had ruptured and caught fire. Monks staggered out, dragging an injured monk with them.
I tried to control my panic, to work out what was happening. Blood blurred my eyes, and everything was shaking and darkness and noise. Red lights flashed in the sky and spotlights swept rapid circles across the mountainside, beaming from somewhere in the sky.
“Drones!” I hollered.
“What?” Pan screamed.
“We’re being attacked by drones!”
I shielded my eyes as one of the searchlights caught me. The drone flew in closer, rotors buzzing and mechanical legs hanging with vicious grab claws. A bolt of energy – a fizzing blue laser blast – shot from the machine and into the mountainside close to where we cowered, causing an explosion of rock and livid blue sparks.
Even above the blasts from the drone, we heard Mum and Dad calling our names as they searched for us among the chaos. We scrambled down the stairs, and they grabbed us in tight hugs. Mum wiped blood from my face and checked the wound on my head.
“Thank God you’re safe,” she gasped.
I wasn’t sure we were safe, but we were alive and so were they.
“Someone’s using drones,” Pan wheezed.
“I don’t understand,” Mum said. “How did anyone know we were here?”
“It was Takara,” Pan replied. “She sold us out.”
“Takara?”
“She’s here. We saw her in the caves.”
“Caves?” Mum pushed me away, stared at me. “Oh, God… Jake, Pandora, what have you done?”
There was no point in lying. We had to come clean, and pray we could still get out of this.
“I went after the Drak Terma,” I admitted. “I made Pan come with me, but Takara caught us. She’d already ratted us out to a hunter.”
Mum grabbed my arm so hard I winced. Her eyes glared with an anger that I don’t think I’d ever seen before – and I’ve seen her angry a lot.
“We gave these monks our word, Jake! We’ve betrayed them and led our enemies right here.”
“We can make up for it,” I insisted. “We can stop this.”
I pulled away and ran along the ledge, yelling at someone I’d just spotted fleeing one of the chambers.
“Tenzin!” I cried. “Tenzin, it’s me! Manchester United!”
He saw me and waved for me to follow. Maybe the monks had somewhere safe to hide, but this was their home and it was going to get destroyed. I ran after him, gesturing wildly.
“Tenzin!” I shouted. “They’re drones. Flying machines. See, with the lights. We have to stop them. Get the other monks. Gather rocks. Do you understand?”
He seemed to, which was impressive considering how crazy I must have looked, with my wild eyes glaring from a mask of blood and dust.
He shouted to some of the monks, who were whacking a fire with their robes. One of them, the old lama who had refused to show us the terma, saw me. His glasses were cracked and covered in dirt. He wiped the broken lenses on his robe.
“This is your fault,” he said.
“No,” I told him. “Remember we told you someone would come? They’re here now.”
“No,” he repeated. “This is you.”
I knew what he meant, and he was right. We’d broken our promise, just as Takara had told him we would. He didn’t look angry – if anything I’d say he looked sad. But we still had a chance at saving what was left of his home.
I’d had some experience of drones. We’d been rescued by one from a tomb in Egypt, and – in a strange act of madness – I’d ridden one up a mountain in Honduras. Considering the destruction they could dish out, they were pretty fragile machines.
“Rocks,” I said. “
Get everyone to gather rocks. If we throw them at the drones, maybe we can take them out.”
The lama understood, but shook his head. “No,” he insisted. “We do not fight.”
“It’s not fighting. It’s saving your home.”
“Our home is already destroyed because of you. Now I must protect my people. There is a way out, through a tunnel. You may come.”
He turned and called to the other monks, who were putting out fires or helping their injured brothers. They began to follow their leader along one of the paths towards whatever escape tunnel they had prepared.
I was about to yell to my family when one of the drones rushed close to the mountainside, buzzing like a giant hornet. Its searchlights swept the destruction and a voice boomed from its speaker.
“Give up the Atlas family!”
Mum charged into one of the chambers, then reappeared on its roof, having scrambled up through the hatch in the ceiling. She waved her arms, deliberately attracting the attention of the machine’s camera.
“Stop this!” she screamed. “We’ll surrender. John and I will come down to you.”
The drone buzzed closer, its searchlight catching Mum in a savage spotlight. Cameras swivelled as whoever was operating it got a better look at the target.
“There is an open hunt on the Atlas family!” the voice bellowed. “Dead or alive.”
“We know!” Mum roared. “Stop this and John and I will come to you. No tricks.”
“I want all of the Atlas family.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“Like I said,” the voice replied. “Dead or alive.”
Mum screamed some pretty rude stuff at the machine, then dived from the roof as the drone fired again. Dad shielded Pan as laser sparks sprayed across the mountainside. Chunks of stone flew around the ledge, and another of the monastery chambers crumbled to rubble.
“Over here!” I screamed. “The monks know a way out!”
They heard me and ran, leaping over the remains of another chamber as the drone buzzed after us, searchlight scanning the rocks. Another laser blast hit the mountain higher up. More rocks fell, crashing into the remaining chambers and tumbling down the slope.
“Where did the monks go?” Mum demanded.
“There!” I called. “Up there!”
We could just see a line of shadows scrambling along a ledge higher up the mountain. We could still catch up if we moved fast.
“Let’s go!” Dad roared.
My mum and sister set off after him as more laser blasts shattered rocks. I was about to go too, when something caught my eye in the flashes of light – a glimpse of something back along the ledge. Was it … a monk?
My family hadn’t noticed I wasn’t following them, and they wouldn’t stop to check. If I didn’t go now I doubted I could catch up. But this whole mountain might collapse. I couldn’t leave someone behind.
Cursing, I ran in the other direction, dodging another blast from a drone. The machine had spotted me, and its searchlight glared from ten metres out into the valley.
I scrambled to the monk over fallen rubble. It was Tenzin! Blood gushed from a cut on the side of his head, glistening in the drone’s searchlight. He looked dazed and confused as I wrapped an arm around him and lifted him up.
“We have to move!” I screamed.
It was impossible; his body was limp. His legs trailed behind him as I tried to drag him back the way I’d come. My family would return as soon as they realized I was missing, but could I wait that long? Around us, rocks cascaded down the hillside, dislodging others and smashing into the chambers.
“Tenzin!” I yelled. “Is there another way out?”
His eyes rolled. He was no help now. What about the cave I’d been in, the Drak Terma library? Maybe we could hide from the drones in there. Only, where was the entrance? I had to find it, then come back for Tenzin.
I laid him under an overhang, where I hoped he’d be safe from falling rocks, and tried to make him understand.
“I will be back, OK? I’m not leaving you here.”
His eyes focused on me just for a second, before his head lolled. There was no time to explain any more. I set off, leaping over rubble and scrambling up what remained of the wooden steps.
“No…” I groaned.
The way in was sealed with fallen rocks. I tried to pull them away but they were too heavy, and my arms were too weak. The searchlight beamed at my back. I turned and screamed at the drone – curses, threats, and pathetic pleas – to leave us alone.
To my amazement, it did. The machine rose, and its light scanned the mountainside higher up. I thought that it had gone to hunt for the rest of my family.
Then it began to shoot.
Laser bolts slammed into the slope – maybe a dozen at close range, causing explosions and more rocks to fall. I crouched, covering my head, crying out for it to stop, and then screaming louder as I realized what was happening. The drone wasn’t hunting for anyone.
It was deliberately firing at the mountain.
It was causing an avalanche.
The ledge shook like an earthquake. I grabbed a slab of rock, hoping it might anchor me to the mountain, but another falling chunk struck me from the side and I tumbled over the ledge. I remember rolling, sliding. I remember the flashing, fizzing lights of the drone’s laser. I remember the thunder of falling rocks as part of the mountainside collapsed, destroying what was left of Yerpa Gompa and carrying me with it. I remember thinking about Tenzin and my family, and praying they were safe. And then I don’t remember much at all.
21
She had always hated travelling, even though she did so much of it. First class and private jets, none of the luxuries afforded to her by her position had really helped. Even the organization weren’t powerful enough to alter international time zones to spare her the excruciating jet lag migraines.
They had, certainly, made travel more comfortable. But now the luxuries were gone. Travelling in such style would only draw attention, so she was forced to join the rabble. That was all the boy’s fault too. Marjorie made a mental note to remind him of that before she had her revenge.
The train jolted as they approached the end of an appalling sixteen-hour journey from China. Already she felt the effects of the high altitude. As she stepped out onto the platform at Lhasa station, her breath came in feeble rasps and wheezes.
She clicked her fingers, beckoning a porter who scuttled over with a canister of oxygen. She snatched it from him, strapped its plastic mask over her mouth and breathed.
Better.
She needed to stay strong, focused.
At the security check, she handed a sour-faced officer one of her fake passports. She had taken a gamble that Lord Osthwait had been too busy to cancel them, or her credit cards. She had used both to secure a berth on the train, and then again to check into the only decent-sounding hotel in Lhasa, the Shangri-La.
The hotel was a disappointment; Marjorie had no idea how the place had been awarded one star, let alone five. She spotted a cobweb in reception, and the view from her balcony was underwhelming, to say the least. Lhasa was a dreary cluster of box-like buildings with little architectural merit, and the Potala Palace didn’t impress Marjorie at all. She prayed she wouldn’t have to spend long in this city. She would rest, and tomorrow she would seek the information she needed to locate the boy.
She fell asleep thinking of how she would end his life.
22
I woke in darkness. Not a sliver of light.
My body was twisted up like one of Mum’s yoga positions. One arm was trapped behind my back, the other crammed between boulders above my head. My right knee was touching my chest, and my left leg was buried under rocks at a ninety-degree angle to my side. Above me were more and more rocks.
I was alive; that was something. But I was buried alive and alone in the dark and I couldn’t move, so I didn’t really see the bright side of things. I tried to scream, but all that came was a dry
retch. My mouth was full of grit and earth. I spat some out and my breaths came faster as my mind registered the horror of my situation. I finally managed a scream, and then another, as one of my arms twisted tighter, agony bolting up my shoulder. I tried to fight the panic, but it hit me like another avalanche, and for several minutes I just screamed, until my voice ran dry and I lay gasping in my mountain tomb.
I closed my eyes, praying that when I opened them again I’d be back in the monastery chamber, with my family. My dad would be snoring, music would be blaring from my sister’s headphones, and my mum would be awake, keeping watch, keeping me safe.
I opened my eyes to see only darkness.
I tried to calm my mind, tried the breathing thing Mum had taught me, hoping some clever plan might appear in my head. But nothing came – no way out. How could I escape if I couldn’t move? I cried out again and then lay still, my screams bouncing around the rocks. Then, silence.
No, wait.
There was another sound. A grunt, and a snort, like a dog. Was someone up there, on top of the rocks? I tried to yell, but the words caught in my throat. Panic was replaced by relief, then by panic again that whoever it was might walk past.
I heard it again, louder this time, closer. The thwap, thwap of bare feet on stone, and the clatter of a tumbling rock.
“Help…” I rasped. “Down here…”
I was about to call out again, when the feet stopped. I heard another grunt. And then deep sniffing, like a creature on a scent.
I held my breath.
That noise. It wasn’t human. Even buried beneath the rocks, covered in dirt, with my ears ringing with my own screams, I just knew. Whatever was above me wasn’t a monk or my family or a hunter. It wasn’t a person.
But it was looking for me. I can’t explain the terror I felt, a fear that had nothing to do with being buried alive. Right then I didn’t want to be saved, not by whatever was up there. I felt safer in the darkness, hidden under the rocks.
The creature began to move again, faster now over the rocks, as if it had been spooked. I lay still, my breath still held even as my lungs begged me to let it go.
Jake Atlas and the Quest for the Crystal Mountain Page 10