Uncharted: The Fourth Labyrinth (6 page)

“Don’t touch him,” Sully warned as she went to try to lift his head.

The woman glanced up in confusion, but Drake saw in her eyes that she understood Sully’s caution. The police would not want the crime scene disturbed. She wanted to help the curator, but anyone could see there was nothing she could do.

Drake turned away from her anguish. He ran to the next bend in the corridor and peered around the corner, listening for retreating footfalls. They were no more than thirty seconds behind the killer, but that could be an eternity if the bastard knew where he was going. He was about to give chase anyway but hesitated.

“Hey,” he said, rushing back to the others, realizing he didn’t know the graduate student’s name. “Which way is the staff entrance you were talking about?”

She blinked, lifted her gaze from the dying Dr. Cheney, and looked at him. “Back there,” she said, glancing the way they’d come. “Through the Minotaur’s alcove. It’s the dark area on the left as you—”

But Drake had stopped listening. He remembered. They had just passed it, probably only a second or two before the killer had gone into that darkness. He might even have been hiding there in the shadows, waiting as they went by so as not to make any noise.

“Stay with her,” he told Sully.

Sully nodded, though he didn’t look happy about it.

Drake ran through the passage in a crouch, standing as he emerged in the corridor. He heard Jada following, wished she would wait with Sully, but didn’t take the time to argue with her. A couple of hours with the adult Jada Hzujak and he knew she wasn’t the sort of woman who was going to sit idly by when it came time for action.

They raced through two turns of the labyrinth, retracing their steps, and came to the Minotaur’s alcove. Drake didn’t slow, plunging into the darkness, hands in front of him. He stumbled over loose cables on the floor but caught himself on the wall at the rear of the alcove.

“Watch your step, Jada,” he said, his eyes adjusting as he found a doorknob and twisted it, bursting through into a narrow, dimly lit corridor that looked nothing like the interior of the labyrinth.

Sound equipment and a workbench blocked the way to the right, so they went left, hurtling down the narrow hall created by the hollow backs of the labyrinth’s walls. Plywood and two-by-fours and bare bulbs made him think of being backstage in a theater.

What the hell am I doing?
Drake thought. Luka had been murdered, and now Dr. Cheney, who apparently had helped him in his labyrinth research, was dying. Whatever Luka had discovered, someone didn’t want anybody talking about it. If the killers thought that Jada’s father might have shared his secrets with her, she would be a target as well, just as she had feared, and yet here they were chasing after one of the very people who would want her dead.

The corridor cut diagonally to the right, and he followed it. It zigzagged in between turns in the labyrinth, a hidden space, a maze within the maze. He could hear Jada’s footfalls right behind him, her breathing so close that he practically could feel it, and he knew they were being foolish taking this risk. But he also knew that she wanted answers and would never stop just to save herself.

The maze ended abruptly. The walls on either side cut away, the halls of the labyrinth turning, but their narrow corridor arrived at a pair of double metal doors with an exit sign glowing above them and a warning placard stating the door was for the use of staff only.

Drake slammed through the door and found himself on a stairwell landing. Jada skidded to a halt beside him, looking first up and then down.

“Which way?” she asked, her hazel eyes alight with fierce determination, her magenta bangs framing her face.

“No way to tell,” Drake said. “And we’d be fools to try guessing. We’ve gotta get back to Sully and get out of here.”

“What?” Jada snapped, turning on him. “Dr. Cheney’s our one lead, and he’s back there dying. If we catch this guy, we could make him tell us—”

Drake shook his head. “We’re not gonna catch him. He’s got a head start, and we don’t know where he is or what he looks like. Whether he went up or down, by now he’s mixed in with employees or with visitors and is on his way out of this place. Best thing to do right now is get you the hell out of here.”

Jada’s eyes narrowed. “You think I’m in danger?”

“You were hiding out in a friend’s apartment because
you
thought you were in danger,” Drake reminded her. “It’s just that now I believe you.”

“Nice,” Jada said. “Didn’t you used to be charming?”

“Yeah. Strangely, I’m not in the mood today.”

Jada’s flinty exterior gave way, and for a moment he saw the pain and vulnerability beneath.

“Come on,” she said. “Let’s move.”

She ran back down the sawdust-smelling corridor. Drake followed, wondering where it would all lead. He and Sully weren’t bodyguards or private detectives, and they sure as hell weren’t cops. This wasn’t a job for them, but Sully would never see it that way, and Drake had the feeling that he himself was already in too deep to walk away.

Jada had left the door to the Minotaur’s alcove partway open, but when they went back through it, Drake closed it tightly and wiped the knobs on both sides, his mind racing ahead. The police would be there any minute, and then all their options would be taken away from them. Whatever happened after that would be decided by the detectives running the case.

They ducked and went through the low-ceilinged passage, emerging just a few feet from where two security guards stood by Dr. Maynard Cheney’s body, one of them on his cell phone, reporting the crime, and the other just scratching his head in dismay.

When Drake and Jada came in, the guards turned and one of them reached for the Taser at his side.

“Whoa!” Drake said, putting his hands up. “We’re with them, pal.”

The guards looked over to Sully and the graduate student, who sat against the wall a short way down the corridor.

“It’s okay,” the woman said. “They were with me when I found him.”

The guards ignored Drake and Jada after that. They looked quite shaken, and Drake thought they would be very relieved when the police arrived.

He glanced over at the body. Dr. Cheney lay in the same position, still bleeding, flesh turning paler as the blood drained from him. The man’s chest had ceased to rise and fall. One glance at the graduate student’s red-rimmed eyes and her tears and the way Sully held her—self-conscious and awkward at the intimacy of her grief and the comfort he offered—and it was clear no ambulance would be needed. Not that Drake had needed confirmation. The moment he had seen the extent of Cheney’s wounds, he had known the man’s fate was sealed.

“Uncle Vic,” Jada said softly, her eyes beginning to well up at the sight of the dead man. “We need to go.”

Sully gave a shake of his head, cautioning them to be wary of what they said around the guards. He leaned in and spoke to the graduate student in gentle tones Drake rarely had heard from him.

“Gretchen,” he said quietly, “tell them what you told me. And quickly, please. We don’t have a lot of time.”

Apparently the graduate student had a name, and Drake thought it fit her well. Drake and Jada drew nearer, and he glanced over his shoulder to make sure the guards weren’t making any effort to overhear them.

Gretchen looked at Jada. “You’re Luka Hzujak’s daughter?”

Jada nodded.

“And he’s really dead?”

Jada took a deep breath, wiping away a tear, visibly fighting her grief. “Yeah. Murdered. And whoever killed him probably killed Dr. Cheney, too.”

“What’s the connection, Gretchen?” Drake asked quietly, glancing again at the guards, wondering how long before the police pulled up in front of the museum. “Jada’s father was studying labyrinths. He made some kind of discovery, figured out some kind of mystery that had him excited.”

“I don’t know everything,” Gretchen said. “It’s just—my God, it’s just
history
. But I know that Maynard told Professor Hzujak about a connection he’d found between the labyrinthine tomb from Egypt’s Twelfth Dynasty and the labyrinth of Knossos—the one with the Minotaur—”

“I thought that was just a legend,” Drake interrupted.

“So did I,” Gretchen said, nodding. “But the historical record says there was something being shown there in the first century
A.D
. It’s accepted that the labyrinth of Knossos existed, but the question is how much of the story is real and how much is myth.

“Maynard thought he had found part of the answer. The museum is running an archaeological dig near the City of Crocodiles in Egypt right now—my brother Ian is one of the managers on the project—and they’ve found some amazing things.”

“My father was in Egypt just a few weeks ago,” Jada said in a hushed voice.

Gretchen nodded. “Yes. He visited the dig. You didn’t know why he traveled there?”

Jada hugged herself. “Research was all he told me.”

“Maynard had been translating the writing on the artifacts that have been coming back from the dig,” Gretchen went on. “He found references to three different labyrinths, all in use at the same time and all designed by Daedalus.”

“Another myth,” Drake said.

“Based on a real person,” Gretchen said.

“Come on, Nate,” Sully put in. “How many times have we proven that most legends have at least a kernel of truth?”

Drake nodded. There was no arguing with their own experiences.

“What about Midas?” Drake asked, thinking of Luka’s research into alchemy.

Gretchen shook her head. “No. As far as Maynard knew, all of that ‘Midas touch’ stuff, turning things to gold, was just a story. It meant something, but he hadn’t figured out what just yet.”

“Dr. Cheney thought he had proven the rest, though?” Jada asked.

“He was sure of it,” Gretchen said, a bit breathless now, wiping at her tears as she glanced at the guards. She had no reason to believe their story except that she saw Jada’s grief reflecting her own and must have felt how vital this information was to them.

“There were even references to the Minotaur,” she went on. “Not just the one in Crete, but in Egypt, too. Both labyrinths had monsters in them, according to the writing at the Egyptian dig. There’s more than a kernel of truth to this stuff, and he had the evidence. As soon as he started accumulating all of that, he got the go-ahead from the museum to proceed with this exhibit.”

Sully began to rise. Gretchen reached for him, as if fearing to be left alone, though the security guards were there. Sully took her hand and helped her stand as well.

“Jada,” Sully said, “Dr. Cheney told Gretchen that he thought whatever your father was searching for must be at the center of the third labyrinth.”

“Where was that one?” Drake asked.

“That’s the thing,” Gretchen said, glancing back and forth between Drake and Jada. “It’s a mystery. But your father called Maynard a couple of days ago, and when they got off the phone, Maynard was so excited. Your father thought he’d worked out the location of the third labyrinth. He wouldn’t say where it was until he’d confirmed it, but Maynard believed in him. He said if anyone could find it, Luka Hzujak could.”

The two young women exchanged a look of shared sorrow, and Drake lowered his eyes, feeling like he and Sully were intruders. But then Jada touched his arm, and he looked up at her.

“This has to be it,” she said, but she was staring at Sully. “This is why they killed him, Uncle Vic.”

“To keep the secret?” Gretchen asked, doubtful.

“Or to keep Luka from getting there first,” Sully said, turning to Drake.

“Henriksen?” Drake said. “He was already our best guess.”

The security guards’ radios crackled with voices and static. The police were on their way up. They would be upstairs in moments.

“We need to go,” Sully said, looking at Jada.

“Gretchen, listen,” Drake said, staring at her intently. “You said your brother’s working on that dig in Egypt. If we can get there, can you put in a word for us? We need access to that site.”

“What?” Jada asked. “Egypt?”

But Sully was nodding, looking at Gretchen expectantly. “It’s the only way we’re going to find out who’s really behind this.”

Gretchen glanced at the corpse of Dr. Cheney. Then she nodded. “I’ll call him.”

“Good,” Sully said. “I’m sorry, but we’ve got to go. When this is all over, you’ll hear from me. We’ll make sure you get the truth.”

“Thank you,” she said, her expression crumbling as they walked away and she was forced to contend once more with the murder of a man she so obviously had admired and loved.

“Where do you think you’re going?” one of the security guards asked.

“The police are coming up, aren’t they?” Drake said in the most reasonable tone he could muster. “They’ll never find their way through all of this. We’re gonna meet them and guide them through.”

“Right,” the guard said. “Should’ve thought of that.”

“Hey, don’t sweat it,” Sully replied. “None of us is thinking straight right now. What a horrible day.”

“Exactly,” the guard said.

As soon as Drake, Jada, and Sully were through the crouching passage, they bolted along the twisting corridor to the Minotaur’s alcove. They could hear voices and the crackling of police radios coming their way as they slipped silently through the door at the back of the alcove and then hurried along the narrow “backstage” hallway to the staff exit.

“How the hell are we going to get to Egypt?” Sully asked Drake.

“We’ll figure it out.”

“We can’t go yet,” Jada said as they raced down the employee stairwell. “Not until after my father’s funeral.”

Sully stopped and turned to her, taking her by the hands. “Jada, listen. The way he died—it’s going to be days before the coroner releases his body for burial. If Henriksen is behind this, he’s been working on it for a while. Whatever secrets Luka discovered, Henriksen either knows them or he’s trying to crack them right now. If we’re gonna get to the bottom of it, we can’t let him beat us to them.”

Jada looked frustrated and confused. “What if they’re ready to release him and I’m not back?”