05 - The Curse of the Mummy's Tomb (10 page)

Then he turned to us. “You two—into that one.” He pointed to an enormous
mummy case on a tall pedestal next to Uncle Ben’s. It was nearly as tall as I
was, and at least ten feet long. It must have been built to hold a mummified
person—and all of his or her possessions.

“Let us go!” Sari insisted. “Let us out of here. We won’t tell anyone what
happened. Really!”

“Please climb into the case,” Ahmed insisted patiently. “We must wait for the
tar to be ready.”

“We’re not going in there,” I said.

I was shaking all over. I could feel the blood pulsing at my temples. I
didn’t even realize I was saying what I was saying. I was so scared, I didn’t
even hear myself.

I glanced at Sari. She stood defiantly with her arms crossed tightly over her
chest. But despite her brave pose, I could see her chin trembling and her eyes
beginning to tear.

“Into the coffin,” Ahmed repeated, “to await your fate. Khala will not be
kept waiting. The ancient curse will be carried out in her name.”

“No!” I cried angrily.

I stood on tiptoe and peered into the enormous mummy case. It smelled so sour
in there, I nearly hurled.

The case was made of wood. It was warped and stained and peeling inside. In
the flickering light, I was sure I saw dozens of insects crawling around in
there.

“Get into the case
now
!” Ahmed demanded.

Sari climbed up over the side and lowered herself into the ancient mummy
case. She always had to be first at everything. But this was one time I didn’t
mind.

I hesitated, resting my hand on the rotting wood on the side of the case. I
glanced at the case next to it, the case with Uncle Ben inside. It was carved of
stone, and the heavy stone lid was closed, sealing it up tight.

Did Uncle Ben have any air in there? I wondered, gripped with fear. Was he
able to breathe?

And, then, I thought glumly, what difference does it make? All three of us
are going to be dead soon. All three of us are going to be mummies, locked away
in this hidden chamber forever.

“Get in—now!” Ahmed ordered, his dark eyes burning into mine.

“I—I’m just a
kid
!” I cried. I don’t know where the words came from.
I was so scared, I really didn’t know what I was saying.

An unpleasant sneer formed on Ahmed’s face. “Many of the pharaohs were your
age at death,” he said.

I wanted to keep him talking. I had the desperate idea that if I could keep
the conversation going, I could get us out of this mess.

But I couldn’t think of anything to say. My brain just froze.

“Get in,” Ahmed ordered, moving toward me menacingly.

Feeling totally defeated, I slid one leg over the side of the rotting coffin,
raised myself up, and then dropped down beside Sari.

She had her head bowed, and her eyes shut tight. I think she was praying. She
didn’t glance up, even when I touched her shoulder.

The coffin lid began to slide over us. The last thing I saw were the red
flames leaping up over the pit of tar. Then the lid closed us into complete
blackness.

“Gabe…” Sari whispered a few seconds after the lid was closed. “I’m
frightened.”

For some reason, her confession made me snicker. She said it with such
surprise.
As if being frightened was a startling new experience.

“I’m too frightened to be frightened,” I whispered back.

She grabbed my hand and squeezed it. Her hand was even colder and clammier
than mine.

“He’s crazy,” she whispered.

“Yeah. I know,” I replied, still holding onto her hand.

“I think there are bugs in here,” she said with a shudder. “I can feel them
crawling on me.”

“Me, too,” I told her. I realized I was gritting my teeth. I always do that
when I’m nervous. And now I was more nervous than I thought was humanly
possible.

“Poor Daddy,” Sari said.

The air in the coffin was already beginning to feel stuffy and hot. I tried
to ignore the disgusting sour smell, but it had crept into my nostrils, and I
could even taste it. I held my breath to keep from gagging.

“We’re going to suffocate in here,” I said glumly.

“He’s going to kill us before we can suffocate,” Sari wailed. “Ow!” I could
hear her slap at a bug on her arm.

“Maybe something will happen,” I told her. Pretty lame. But I couldn’t think
of what else to say. I couldn’t
think.
Period.

“All I keep thinking about is how he’s going to reach in and pull my brain
out through my nose,” Sari wailed. “Why did you have to tell me that, Gabe?”

It took me a while to reply. Then, all I could say was, “Sorry.” I began to
picture the same thing, and another wave of nausea swept over me.

“We can’t just sit here,” I said. “We have to escape.” I tried to ignore the thick, sour smell.

“Huh? How?”

“Let’s try to push up the lid,” I said. “Maybe if we both push together…”

I counted to three in a low whisper, and we both flattened our hands against
the coffin top and pushed up as hard as we could.

No. The lid wouldn’t budge.

“Maybe he’s locked it or put something heavy on top of it,” Sari suggested
with a miserable sigh.

“Maybe,” I replied, feeling just as miserable.

We sat in silence for a while. I could hear Sari breathing. She was sort of
sobbing as she breathed. I realized my heart was racing. I could feel my temples
throbbing.

I pictured the long hook that Ahmed would use to pull our brains out of our
heads. I tried to force the thought out of my mind, but it wouldn’t go away.

I remembered being a mummy two Halloweens ago, and how the costume unraveled
in front of my friends.

Little did I know then that I’d soon have a mummy costume that would
never
unravel.

Time passed. I don’t know how long.

I realized I had been sitting with my legs crossed. Now they were beginning
to fall asleep. I uncrossed them and stretched them out. The mummy case was so
big, Sari and I could both lie down if we wanted to.

But we were too tense and terrified to lie down.

I was the first to hear the scrabbling sound. Like something climbing quickly
around inside the mummy case.

At first I thought it was Sari. But she grabbed my hand with her icy hand,
and I realized she hadn’t moved from in front of me.

We both listened hard.

Something near us, something right next to us, bumped the side of the case.

A mummy?

Was there a mummy in the case with us?

Moving?

I heard a soft groan.

Sari squeezed my hand so tightly, it hurt, and I uttered a sharp cry.

Another sound. Closer.

“Gabe—” Sari whispered, her voice tiny and shrill. “Gabe—there’s
something
in here with us!”

It’s not a mummy, I told myself.

It
can’t
be.

It’s a bug. A very large bug. Moving across the coffin floor.

It’s not a mummy. It’s not a mummy.

The words repeated in my mind.

I didn’t have too long to think about it. Whatever it was crept closer.

“Hey!” a voice whispered.

Sari and I both shrieked.

“Where
are
you guys?”

We recognized the voice immediately.

“Uncle Ben!” I cried, swallowing hard, my heart pounding.

“Daddy!” Sari lunged over me to get to her father.

“But how?” I stammered. “How did you get in here?”

“Easy,” he replied, squeezing my shoulder reassuringly.

“Daddy—I don’t
believe
it!” Sari wailed. I couldn’t see in the
blackness of the closed coffin, but I think she was crying.

“I’m okay. I’m okay,” he repeated several times, trying to calm her down.

“How did you get out of that case and into this one?” I asked, totally
confused and amazed.

“There’s an escape hatch,” Uncle Ben explained. “A small opening with a
doorway. The Egyptians built hidden doorways and escape hatches into many of
their mummy cases. For the corpse’s soul to be able to leave.”

“Wow,” I said. I didn’t know
what
to say.

“Ahmed is so caught up in his ancient curse mumbo jumbo, he’s forgotten about
this little detail,” Uncle Ben said. I felt his hand on my shoulder again. “Come
on, you two. Follow me.”

“But he’s out there—” I started.

“No,” Uncle Ben replied quickly. “He’s slipped away. When I climbed out of my
case, I looked for him. I didn’t see him anywhere. Maybe he went somewhere else
while he’s waiting for the tar to get hot enough. Or maybe he decided to just
leave us in the mummy cases to suffocate.”

I felt a bug slither up my leg. I slapped at it, then tried to pull it out
from inside the leg of my jeans.

“Out we go,” Uncle Ben said.

I heard him groan as he turned in the enormous coffin. Then I could hear him crawling to the back.

I saw a small rectangle of light as he pushed open the hidden door in the
back of the case. It was a very small escape hatch, just big enough for us to
squeeze through.

I followed Uncle Ben and Sari out of the case, flattening myself to crawl out
the small opening, then dropping onto all fours on the chamber floor.

It took a while for my eyes to adjust to the brightness.

The red flames still danced over the pit of bubbling tar, casting eerie blue
shadows on all four chamber walls. The mummies stood as before, frozen in place
around the room, shadows flickering over their faceless forms.

As my eyes began to focus, I saw that Uncle Ben had an enormous, dark bruise
on the side of his head. A wide ribbon of dried blood streaked down his cheek.

“Let’s get out of here before Ahmed comes back,” he whispered, standing
between us, one hand on each of our shoulders.

Sari looked pale and trembly. Her lower lip was bleeding from her chewing on
it so hard.

Uncle Ben started toward the rope ladder in the center of the chamber, but
then stopped. “It’ll take too long,” he said, thinking out loud. “Come on. To
the tunnel. Hurry.”

All three of us started jogging toward the tunnel in the corner. Looking down, I saw that my stupid shoelace had come
untied again. But there was
no way
I was going to stop to tie it!

We were about to get
out
of there!

A few seconds before, I had given up all hope. But now, here we were out of
the mummy case and heading to freedom.

We were just a few yards in front of the tunnel entrance when the tunnel
suddenly filled with orange light.

Then, from out of the tunnel, Ahmed emerged, holding a new torch in front of
him, the flames revealing a startled look on his face.

“No!” Sari and I cried in unison.

All three of us skidded to a halt right in front of him.

“You cannot escape!” Ahmed said softly, quickly regaining his composure, his
startled expression tightening to anger. “You
will not
escape!”

He thrust the torch toward Uncle Ben, who was forced to fall backwards, out
of reach of the hissing flames. He landed hard on his elbows and cried out in
pain.

His cry brought a grim smile to Ahmed’s lips. “You have made Khala angry,” he
announced, raising the torch above his head and reaching for the dagger sheathed
at his waist. “You will not join the other violators of this chamber.”

Whew. I breathed a sigh of relief.

Ahmed had changed his mind. He wasn’t going to turn us into mummies after
all.

“The three of you will die in the tar pit,” he declared.

Sari and I exchanged horrified glances. Uncle Ben had climbed back to his
feet and put his arms around us. “Ahmed, can’t we talk about this calmly and
rationally as scientists?” he asked.

“To the tar pit,” Ahmed ordered, thrusting the flaming torch angrily at us.

“Ahmed—
please
!” Uncle Ben cried in a whining, frightened tone I’d
never heard from him before.

Ahmed ignored Uncle Ben’s desperate pleas. Pushing the torch at our backs and
gesturing with the long-bladed dagger, he forced us to make our way to the edge
of the pit.

The tar was bubbling noisily now, making ugly popping and sucking sounds. The
flames across the top were low and red.

I tried to pull back. It smelled so bad. And the steam coming off it was so
hot, it made my face burn.

“One by one, you will jump,” Ahmed said.

He was standing a few feet behind us as we stared down into the bubbling tar.
“If you don’t jump, I will be forced to push you.”

“Ahmed—” Uncle Ben began. But Ahmed brushed the torch against Ben’s back.

“It has come to me,” Ahmed said solemnly. “The honor of carrying out Khala’s wishes.”

The tar fumes were so overwhelming, I thought I was going to faint. The pit
started to tilt in front of me. I felt very dizzy.

I shoved my hands into my jeans pockets, to steady myself, I guess. And my
hand closed around something I had forgotten about.

The Summoner.

The mummy hand that I carry around everywhere.

I’m not sure why—I wasn’t thinking clearly, if at all—but I pulled out
the little mummy hand.

I spun around quickly. And I held the mummy hand up high.

I can’t really explain what was going through my mind. I was so terrified, so
overwhelmed with fear, that I was thinking a hundred things at once.

Maybe I thought the mummy hand would distract Ahmed.

Or interest him.

Or confuse him.

Or frighten him.

Maybe I was just stalling for time.

Or maybe I was unconsciously remembering the legend behind the hand that the
kid at the garage sale had told me.

The legend of why it was called The Summoner.

How it was used to call up ancient souls and spirits.

Or maybe I wasn’t thinking anything at all.

But I spun around and, gripping it by its slender wrist, held the mummy hand
up high. And waited. Ahmed stared at it. But nothing happened.