The Amazon Job

Lara opened the folder on the Amazon dig, the recently uncovered temple of Phutanaritl. Supposedly it was so closely guarded by a local indigenous tribe that no outsiders were allowed near it. The best anybody had managed was aerial shots that made it seem like a massively sprawling complex. Amazingly well-preserved for its age, the kind of upkeep that screams ancient magics. It had been a while since Lara had been to the rain forest, in spite of the humidity it had always been a favorite. Last time she was still pretty green and had spent just as much time schmoozing and vacationing as she did working. It had cost her a massive haul to Natla, that was a hard lesson indeed. This time she would need to focus on business, though she would have a day between landing in Rio and getting a flight to Macapá. She could allow herself a day of being a tourist in Rio. She could feel a tropical cocktail calling her name, maybe she'd get waxed again.

A day in Rio passes like an hour anywhere else. The first time Lara had visited, she had gotten off of the plane tipsy and gotten onto the next plane hammered. This time when she landed, she was stone sober. When she got onto the next plane 20 hours later, she could barely walk. It wasn't just the soreness from the full-body wax talking either. By the time she woke up in Macapá, she was sobering up. The humidity when she stepped out of the airport hit her like a runaway train. Maybe she could afford to wait another day to sleep off the... jet lag.

Lara's Journal: In Brazil lately on info about a temple in the rainforest, records hint at a location but they seem incomplete. Three days in the jungle so far and still to this point getting my passport renewed has been the hardest part of the journey. Local help has been able to get me through the area unscathed, though I haven't needed much of it. The locals seem afraid of the temple, speaking about it in hushed tones. Scary rumors about an isolated tribe guarding it keep most archeologists off, those brave enough to go anyway don't come back. Despite these rumors, nobody seems to have an actual account of the tribe in question. Possibly an urban myth but I've seen fit to arm myself anyway. I've taken a local as a guide for the time being, as he says that he'll only take me to where "their" territory begins. He's a simple fellow and doesn't speak more than a couple of words of English, however, he's come highly recommended and has been invaluable so far. I will be sad to lose him up ahead.

The simple wooden paddle beat the water in a steady rhythm. The guide, a squat and olive-skinned man with thinning black hair poking from his shady hat, hunched at the front of a primitive canoe and leisurely beat the way forward across the river. They'd hit a lucky stretch of dry weather and the current was lazy, perfect for letting them get across without danger. The man hummed softly, slapping occasionally at flying insects and letting out a wheezing laugh when he caught one. Though Lara had offered him repellent before, he'd slapped it away with fear and repeated one of his few English words over and over.

"Sickness."

There was no telling what he meant, and when Lara asked he'd huffed and waved in front of his nose. Thus was the nature of a language barrier and this was hardly the first time she'd dealt with it. Usually, the more cryptic these things seemed, the more innocent they ended up being. As such, she'd been careful to spray herself each morning with him at a distance, though he'd still sniff suspiciously sometimes when she was close. If it bothered him, he didn't let on.

The canoe closed in on the riverbank and when it was in reach, the old man grabbed hold of some overhang and used it to drag the canoe onto the bank. He scrabbled out onto the land and motioned for her. Lara shouldered her heavy pack and carried on into the jungle, following the often random speed of her guide. He muttered and hummed as he hacked away into the brush, scanning the surroundings with a paranoid fervor.

They traveled like this for the better part of an hour. The mousy little man's hummed song intercut by the drum beats of jungle knife slashing at underbrush. For her part, Lara just follows. She's been a stranger in a strange land before, the language barrier is nothing new and she's learned from experience to fully trust any guide who takes half up front and a half on arrival. He can't take her all the way, he fears the natives as much as the outsiders do. When she had asked him why he'd dragged a finger across his neck symbolically. That gesture crossed language barriers.

The humming and whacking stopped suddenly and her guide turned about with urgency in his eyes. He gestured frantically at a tree, covered in vivid green fungus and marked with a three-dotted circle in animal blood. The guide ducked past Lara and gestured at his open hand.

"Here. Pay."

Lara grabbed the rest of his payment and slid it into his outstretched hand. She threw in a little extra because of how nervous the work seemed to make him. He didn't even count his money before disappearing back down the hacked trail in a heartbeat. She could hear him spitting and cursing as he disappeared into the green ocean. Lara turned back to the rainforest ahead of her. She pulled her PDA from her bag, even deep in the Amazon Rainforest, if you were rich enough you could get a signal. The PDA was already set to lead her to the recorded location of the temple. Lara unholstered her own bush-cutting knife with her free hand and set forward.

It was only a few minutes before she was ready to turn around and beg her guide to come back. The rainforest's heat was debilitating, each step had to be cleared vigorously and then fought for on uneven footing. The chest height man had made it seem effortless, but she was almost definitely only moving half of the speed she had when he was here.

It was merciless slow going until she managed to break through into a clearer area. The sound of a running stream had been taunting her for the past several minutes and when she finally hit the weakly flowing brook she dropped to her knees and splashed water in her face. She set her pack down and sat back against a nearby tree, she let herself have some of her stored water as she tried to catch her breath. When a rope net dropped from the tree above down onto her, all she could do was throw her hands up and sigh.

The net pulled tight, even if Lara wanted to escape she couldn't have. A towering figure appeared over her, Lara squinted up at it. It was unmistakably a woman, albeit one from the most shameless adaptation of Greek myth ever made. Her body was sculpted with bodybuilder bulk and she stood tall enough to tower at least a meter over most people Lara had previously considered "tall". She lifted Lara's net almost effortlessly with one hand and brought Lara up to eye height. Lara was flipped upside-down as she hung in the air.

"Intruder?" The figure asked, almost innocently.

"Yes yes, I surrender. If you wish to take me back to your camp and debate with your leader what my fate shall be could you get it over with? The sooner you tie me to the sacrificial altar the sooner I can escape."

"Altar? What you mean?"

"Oh, I guess you understand me. The escaping part was a joke, the hurrying up part wasn't. At least sacrifice me in some dry clothes."

"You talk like last outsider."

"So you've had outside contact."

"Last outsider bring curse, kill every outsider since."

"Well, I can assure you I bring no curses, if you let me go I can bring my lack of curses back to civilization."

"You first outsider not male, Izel want speak with you."

"Well, then take me to your lea- HEY!" Lara was cut off as the towering figure flung Lara's sack over her shoulder thoughtlessly and Lara slammed teeth-rattlingly against a set of rippling back muscles. The figure went stomping into the undergrowth, each step shaking Lara enough to discourage talking lest she bite into her tongue.

By the time they reached the destination (about an hour later according to Lara's PDA) they were within spitting distance of Lara's destination and Lara had developed a newfound sympathy for airline luggage. The figure clomped through a sparse campsite into a simple hut with a roof made of clumps of mattress-sized leaves. Lara was dropped clumsily onto the packed dirt of the floor and had to slowly untangle herself from her limbs and the net. When she finally did she noticed the woman in front of her. In perfect contrast to her previous encounter, the woman was absolutely ancient and as frail as wet paper.

"It's been an age since an outsider entered my tent. Were you a male, your blood would have stained the undergrowth."

Lara cracked her neck and stretched out her aching limbs "I don't know where you learned English but you should send your pet ogre there."

The old lady laughed "Do my tribeswomen intimidate you? I was the last woman born to not bear the form, it's the curse. Brought about by the last male we allowed within the temple."

Lara sighed "I don't suppose he introduced himself as Lord Richard James."

The old woman cackled "A friend of yours?"

"Something like that."

The old woman spat and stamped her feet. "He was the first outsider we let step inside the temple in exchange for teaching us his language and medicines, our repayment was this wretched curse."

"What exactly is this curse?"

"The green mushroom came not long after he left. My generation was the last to be born naturally, with each one after the men became rarer and rarer. The women became more twisted, as if they were eating the missing men. Our last male died before any of the current tribe were born."

"If you don't have any males, how are you still around?"

The old woman cocked an eyebrow "Perhaps it's best the girls told you themselves. You want to explore the temple, right?"

Lara nodded "I'll do my best not to curse you again if you'll allow me."

"Yes yes, I know it's foolish to hope you can fix our situation, but I doubt you can make it worse. Carab will keep her eye on you." She flourished with a clap and somebody enters behind Lara.

The girl who enters seems tall enough to even stand a head over the first one you met. As well, she's built even more like a statue of a Greek god. However, she has an extremely gentle face with a seemingly permanently knit jaw. A skirt of fronds that hang just past her knee and a strap of animal bones across her chest are the only clothes she wears over dark golden skin. Her mostly bare breasts hang prominently on her barrel of a chest. They seem like the only part of her body with a single cell of fat.

"Yes?" She asks. Izel gives some orders in a foreign tongue and Carab nods.

Carab looks down at Lara "You. Follow."

The village is large by the standards of tribal clusters of simple huts. Lara hung close to her guide, catching a few glances from stragglers. All of the women are exactly like the first two, big and beefy enough to crush most hired mercs like twigs. Most of them are gathered around a lowered pit in the center of town. Between the legs of the group, Lara can make out a pair of figures circling each other like they're about to start a gladiatorial battle. Carab notices Lara's gaze.

"Dominance fight. Not important."

"If it's not important, why are so many people watching?"

"Enjoy watch. Punish loser. Weak fighters. Not important."

"Well, who are the good fighters then?"

"Me."

"You and?"

"Me."

Carab shepherds Lara to a hut on the edge of town. It's a simple thing, but the inside has a trench below the leafy bed that can be filled with coals to keep the bed warm. Carab gestures at the pile of leaves.

"Sleep. Tomorrow Busy."

"Can't we go and explore now, or at least can I go take a bath?"

"Sleep." Carab says before leaving.