Christopher Golden - Uncharted: The Fourth Labyrinth

Uncharted: The Fourth Labyrinth is a work of fiction. Names, places, and incidents either are products of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously.

A Del Rey Trade Paperback Original

Copyright 2011 by Sony Computer Entertainment America LLC

All rights reserved.

Published in the United States by Del Rey, an imprint of The Random House Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.

D EL R EY is a registered trademark and the Del Rey colophon is a trademark of Random House, Inc.

UNCHARTED is a trademark of Sony Computer Entertainment America LLC. Created and developed by Naughty Dog, Inc. PLAYSTATION AND THE PS FAMILY LOGO ARE REGISTERED TRADEMARKS AND PS3 AND THE PLAYSTATION NETWORK LOGO ARE TRADEMARKS OF SONY COMPUTER ENTERTAINMENT INC.

eISBN: 978-0-345-52934-3

Cover design: Phil Balsman
Cover illustration: Jon Foster

www.delreybooks.com

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Tropical birds scattered as Drake veered the Jeep onto an old rutted track, snapping branches and tearing away vines, plowing through the rain forest with killers in pursuit, bullets flying, a gorgeous but pouty girl in the passengers seat, and a bitch of a headache. With only one of his arms on the wheel, the Jeep slewed to the left, and the pouty girl screamed as he forced the vehicle back onto the trail just before they would have crashed into a felled tree.

Nathan Drake was beginning to hate the jungle.

He glanced in the rearview mirror an instant before a bullet shattered it, forcing him to risk glancing back over his shoulder. There were three vehicles in pursuit, a lumbering truck that had fallen to the rear and two Jeeps just like the one he was driving; which made sense considering that this one had been parked next to them when hed stolen it.

The jungle had closed in around them, a wild tangle of rain forest the people of Ecuador called El Oriente, which seemed to him a pretty ordinary-sounding name for a place full of things that could kill youlike brutal sons of bitches employed by pissed-off South American drug lords.

The rutted track hed taken forced the three vehicles into single file; which was good since it meant only one carload of them could be shooting at him at any given time. Bullets tore at leaves and cracked branches, the Jeep juddered up and down, rattling his teeth, and Drake kept his head down.

This is your idea of a rescue? the girl shouted.

He glanced at her wide eyes and her pretty mouth and her soft skin the color of cinnamon and decided he didnt like cinnamon. It ruined a good piece of toast as far as he was concerned.

What the hell makes you think this is a rescue? he snapped.

She blanched a little at that, and then her eyes narrowed. Maybe the fact that here you are, rescuing me.

Drake laughed, but then his smile vanished as he heard bullets plink into the metal rear of the Jeep. The spare tire bolted to the back blew, but that was a damn sight better than losing one of the tires he was actually using.

Does this look like a rescue? he asked. Youre along for the ride by accident, sweetheart.

In truth, it hadnt been entirely by accident. Hed infiltrated the rain forest compound where Ramn Valdez tended to hide out from the rest of the world, running his drug cartel from a place so remote that nobody wanted to go hunting for him there. No one with half a brain, Drake thought. That hadnt stopped him from tracking Valdez down twice in three years.

He didnt like jobs that involved outright theft, for reasons that were best explained by the situation unfolding around him that very moment. But in the case of Ramn Valdez, hed made an exception because he had a prior claim on the item hed been hired to steal. Hed stolen it once before.

The girl had been a wrinkle in his plan. Hed found her trussed up in Valdezs bedroom and had intended to leave her there until her efforts to free herself gave him the idea that maybe she wasnt a willing participant in her bondage. That had complicated matters significantly, because timing was vital to his plan. For a few seconds he had tried to persuade himself that he wouldnt regret leaving her therethat her struggle was some kind of playacting shed rehearsed for Valdezs benefitbut as he had started to walk away, hed known he was lying to himself. Drake knew a prisoner when he saw one.

What were you doing there, anyway? he asked, jerking the wheel to the right.

Vacation, she said bitterly in that arent-you-a-dumbass tone young women seemed to perfect so early. What do you think?

Not really the question, Drake said.

A burst of gunfire tore up the trees to his left; the last few bullets stitched the side of the Jeep and then blew out a taillight. A macaw exploded in midflight in a bullet-riddled burst of blood and feathers.

Maybe you should focus on driving? the girl asked, panic in her eyes as she ducked lower in her seat. How can you be so calm?

Oh, this isnt calm, Drake said, twisting the wheel to veer around a felled tree. The Jeep rumbled over brush and roots and sideswiped a giant kapok tree. This is me terrified. I can tell by the white knuckles and the way my jaw hurts from clenching.

The girl glanced at his hands on the wheel. She must have noted the whiteness of his knuckles, because she went a shade paler than before.

You going to tell me who you are? Drake demanded.

My father really didnt send you? she asked.

Her disappointment softened him as much as a guy driving through the jungle pursued by people trying to kill him could be softened. He saw the split-trunk tree hed been watching for, the only kind of landmark that could be expected out here, and cut the wheel to the left, crashing the Jeep through a curtain of hanging vines and onto a trail that had been trodden by hooves but rarely by tires. The Jeep bucked like crazy; it felt like it would shake apart in his hands, leaving him sitting on the drivers seat and holding the steering wheel with no car around him.

Sorry, kid. I dont have a clue what youre talking about.

She lifted her chin, trying too late to hide her withered hope. My name is Alex Munoz. My father is mayor of Guayaquil. Hes been fighting a war against drugs in the city, and he cant be bought.

She said this proudly, and Drake didnt blame her. For the mayor of a major South American city to take on the drug cartels, he had to be either courageous as hell or absolutely nuts. Alex didnt have to tell him the rest of the story, either. Beautiful girl, no more than nineteen, bound and gagged in a drug lords bedroom? She had been a hostage, a negotiating tactic, and probably about to become the victim of something worse.

How do I get into these things? Drake thought.

But then, it wasnt Alex Munozs fault that he was being shot at. Sure, untying her and getting her out of the compound had given him away and slowed him down, but it had been a risky plan to begin with, and in his experience risky plans almost always ended up in him being shot atand sometimes actually shot.

So if Papa didnt send you, who are you? Alex asked, her pouty look returning. What are you going to do with me?

Drake ignored the second question. If there was anything hed learned over the years, it was that while running for his life with a woman at his side, it was best never to tell her you didnt have a plan. My names Drake. Nate Drake.