Point Of No Return ~ Uncharted 4 [Sam Drake]

Chapter VIII

  A humid, cold air hung between the walls of the tomb. Sam led the way down the stairs, which had turned slippery from years of moisture leaking into the crevices. Lana's eyes struggled to adjust to the darkness. She clicked her flashlight on at the same time Sam's lighter lit up. The flame caught her eye, and she laughed when he shone it underneath his face jokingly. 

  Skulls and cobwebs decorated the space below the graveyard. Lana scrunched up her nose at the sight of countless bugs scurrying away from the beam of her light. After a few dead ends and reroutes through the maze of the tomb the three found themselves in a larger room. Three statues stood in the middle, decorating the wall that seperated two halves of the space. 

  Lana recognized the middle figure to be Jesus, unmistakeable when hanging from the cross with a crown of thorns on his head. 

  ''Gang's all here!'' Nate joked. 

  ''So, the left one is our guy?'' Lana asked the two brothers. 

  Sam nodded. ''The one on the left is Dismas, you know, the penitent thief.'' 

  ''What does that make the other one? The not-so-penitent thief?'' She replied. 

  Sam flicked her nose in amusement and smiled. ''You're not far off, actually,'' he said, making her frown in confusion. ''That's Gestas, the impenitent thief.'' He chose to ignore the fluttering in his chest at her confused expression. 

  The two hadn't noticed Nate studying the wall in the middle of the room until he beckoned Sam over. ''Hey, Smoky, get your lighter over here.''

  Sam gave Lana a funny look and hurried over to Nate. 

  ''You know, that hurts my feelings,'' he said. 

  ''Not as much as it hurts your lungs,'' Nate shot back.

  ''Thank you, Father Duffy.''

  Lana bit back a smile at the bickering. Sam lit the small lamp Nate was pointing at. They all took a step back as the crevices of the stone wall filled with flames. The fire ignited a light that reflected on the wall behind them. 

  ''I got this,'' Nate said, and all but ran to the other side of the wall. Not long after, the lights began to shift as he tinkered with something behind the wall.

  ''What's Avery's obsession with Dismas anyway?'' Lana asked, looking behind her to find Sam playing with his lighter while leaning against the stone wall.

  ''He considered himself to be a ''penitent thief,'' he said, eyes meeting hers.

  She paused for a second. ''Was he?'' 

  ''Maybe,'' Sam shrugged. ''As far as a ''good thief'' exists.'' 

  ''Would you consider yourself to be a good thief?''

  His playful expression gets wiped off his face. He closed the lighter one final time before putting it in his pocket and pushing himself off of the wall. 

  A moment passed, one in which Lana couldn't help but feel awkward. Did she strike a nerve? Being uncomfortable was foreign to her, she was used to being in control and anticipating the other party's movements. Sam, however, was unreadable. She couldn't tell if he was just that good or if her skills were simply failing her.