The Tomb of Doom

by Gareth P. Jones

  “I tell you what, Chuck,” said the Ringmaster, “I’ll give you and your Clan a chance. Come and work for me and I will call off the mummies. After all, each member of the Clan has special talents. I’m sure we could find places for you in the circus.”

  “You can’t trust the meerkat,” hissed Cleo Catra. “He would double-cross you.”

  “Don’t worry, my dear. I am wearing Nuff’s Head,” said the Ringmaster. “I will know if he is telling the truth.”

  “We’d never join you,” said Chuck. “The Way of the Scorpion teaches of honor and honesty—things you will never understand.”

  “No matter,” the Ringmaster replied. “I shall rule the world with or without your help. Now that I have Nuff’s Head, I can read every thought—just imagine how powerful I’ll be! Soon the world will be a giant circus and I, its Ringmaster!”

  Suddenly, there was a loud rumbling from deep underground. The tomb shook, and chunks of rock tumbled from the ceiling.

  The mummies immediately stopped fighting, and the one holding Jet released him. All of them raised their hands to their heads and moaned, “Tooooooomb! Doooooom!” over and over.

  “What are you doing?” bellowed the Ringmaster. “I ordered you to destroy them!”

  “The mummies hear your thoughts too, and their minds are linked to the tomb,” Hoots said. “Now that they know your plan, the tomb is collapsing. I warned you that Nuff’s Head cannot be used for evil.”

  While their enemy was distracted by Hoots’s words, Bruce ran at him, knocking the Ringmaster to the ground. Jet prized the mask from the Ringmaster’s face.

  “So, can you tell what I’m thinking now?” asked Jet.

  Before the Ringmaster could answer, Cleo Catra leaped up and pounced on Jet. The two of them rolled around on the ground, a struggling ball of fur. Cleo bit Jet’s arm and he cried out, releasing Nuff’s Head.

  Doris bounded across the room, dodging falling rocks, and dived at the mask, but Chuck beat her to it.

  “Nuff’s Head fits anyone who dares to wear it,” Hootenkamun shouted out.

  Chuck held the mask to his face. It suddenly shrank, fitting him perfectly.

  “Are you thinking what I’m thinking, Sheffield?” asked Grimsby.

  “Yes, he is,” Chuck observed.

  The clowns made for the door.

  Meanwhile, Cleo Catra and Jet were standing whisker to whisker near the edge of the Bottomless Pit.

  “Come on, we can settle this once we’ve got out of here,” said Jet.

  “No way,” spat the cat, swiping at him with her claws.

  Jet delivered a kick that sent Cleo flying backward. She screeched and jumped up, launching herself at Jet, but the meerkat ducked out of the way and Cleo flew into the Bottomless Pit. Jet grabbed her tail just in time.

  “Stop wriggling!” he yelled.

  “Bruce, help Jet with Cleo,” said Chuck.

  Bruce hurried over, and together he and Jet pulled Cleo out of the pit.

  Chuck turned to see the Ringmaster, Bernie, and Doris hurriedly following the clowns out of the tomb. A huge lump of stone fell behind them, cutting off their exit.

  Chuck looked into Donnie’s mind. He was pondering which of his gadgets was most useful. “The retractable grappling hook should do it,” Chuck agreed.

  Donnie delved into his backpack and pulled out the grappling hook and its controller. He fired the hook back up the chute. “Everyone grab on!”

  “Can you read my thoughts as well, young meerkat?” Hootenkamun asked.

  Chuck smiled at the owl. “You think there is no need to save an old bird like you, and that I should leave you and the mask here so neither of you will ever be found.”

  “Just so,” said Hoots.

  “I am sorry, I can fulfill only one of your wishes,” said Chuck. He pulled Nuff’s Head off and tossed it into the Bottomless Pit. Then he drew his sword and sliced through the chain binding Hootenkamun to the table. “We leave no one behind.”

  He put his arm around Hootenkamun and grabbed on to the rope. Bruce held on too.

  Jet wrapped one arm around Cleo’s middle and grabbed the rope with his other paw.

  “You saved me,” said Cleo.

  “Not yet, I haven’t.”

  “Let’s go,” said Donnie. He pressed a button on the controller and they shot up and out of the collapsing tomb.

  The next morning, Lob led the others through the tunnels back to the bushes across the road from the airport.

  “Well, brother,” said Lob. “You have saved the day. The Alliance of Righteous Returners are unscathed, and Nuff’s Head will never be found now that the tomb beneath the pyramid has collapsed.”

  Chuck nodded. “Yes, and that means Hoots is free to live the rest of his life in peace. I am pleased we could help.”

  “What of the map detailing the exit points of your tunnels?” asked Donnie. “How will you continue to operate?”

  “I have already begun work on new tunnels,” said Rameses.

  Donnie looked sheepishly at Rameses. “I owe you an apology,” he said.

  “Think nothing of it,” said Rameses. “After all, none of us suspected Cleo.”

  “I betrayed your trust,” said a familiar voice behind them. “And for that I am sorry.”

  They turned to see Cleo creeping out of the tunnel.

  “Why, you traitor…” snarled Rameses.

  “What are you doing here?” asked Lob.

  It was Chuck who answered. “She is to board the plane with us,” he said.

  “I saw I had made the wrong choice the moment that the Ringmaster left me to die,” said Cleo. “I will find somewhere to start a new life.”

  “It is with regret that I bid you farewell, Cleo, but your decision is the right one,” said Lob. “But what of the Ringmaster himself? There has been no sign of him or his troupe since they left the pyramid.”

  “We will catch up with them soon enough, no doubt,” said Chuck. “I am just pleased that we stopped him from stealing the mask—an enemy that can read your thoughts is formidible indeed. That said, I was sad to part with Nuff’s Head.” A slow smile spread across Chuck’s face. “Being able to see into your minds was most enlightening.”

  “What did you learn about us when you were wearing it?” asked Donnie.

  “Well, in Jet’s thoughts I saw great determination and honor as he fought for Cleo Catra’s life. In yours, Donnie, I witnessed the workings of an amazingly resourceful mind.”

  “What about mine?” asked Bruce.

  Chuck placed a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “It was your ability to act without thinking that saved us from an endless fall into the Bottomless Pit,” said Chuck. “And yet while the rest of us were contemplating the very real possibility of our own deaths, you were wondering what you would have for dinner when you got home.”

  Bruce smiled and licked his lips. “Garlic grasshoppers and red onions.”

  Chuck laughed. “Well, you’ve definitely earned it. Come, Clan of the Scorpion—back to our burrow!”

  In the early evening hustle and bustle of Covent Garden no one paid any attention to the automatic street-cleaning machine that trundled over the cobbles, whisking up discarded trash with its two spinning brushes. Certainly, no one suspected that inside the machine were four Ninja Meerkats.

  Donnie was sitting at the front, using a control that he had installed to override the automatic route of the cleaner. He steered the machine around the tourists, market stalls, and street performers that filled the famous London square. Jet, Chuck, and Bruce were behind him, squeezed around a long tube that ran through the middle of the cabin, which sucked up trash into a large container at the back of the vehicle.

  “This is an excellent disguise, Donnie,” said Chuck.

  “Actually it’s a rubbish disguise,” said Jet, with a chuckle.

  Bruce pulled his head out of a take-out box and said, “Rubbish? It’s the first one we’ve used that actually collects food—it�
�s brilliant.”

  “I can’t believe you’re eating again,” said Jet. “You ate twelve bags of jellied crickets on the plane here.”

  “That was just a snack. Look, I found half a burger,” Bruce exclaimed, excitedly holding up the soggy specimen. He took a big bite. “Hmm, there’s a bit too much ketchup, but it’s nice of them to leave the pickle in.”

  “Bruce, you don’t know where that’s been,” said Chuck, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

  “Yeah, but I know where it’s going,” he replied, taking another huge bite.

  Donnie pressed a button and the machine came to a standstill. “The meeting point is directly below us,” he said. He pressed another button, which opened a hatch in the base of the vehicle, revealing a drain below. “This must be the way in.”

  “I wonder why Grandmaster One-Eye told us to come here. It’s all very mysterious,” said Jet.

  “He said he received a message from an old friend,” said Chuck. “And that it was a top secret mission.”

  “Hey, look! Street entertainers,” said Bruce, distracted by a man juggling with flaming torches next to the vehicle.

  “Fire juggling. Pah!” said Jet. “If I was a street performer I’d demonstrate my new move, the Quake Maker.”

  “What’s that?” asked Bruce.

  “I’ll show you.”

  “Jet, no!” started Donnie. “Not inside the—”

  It was too late. Jet leaped up and came crashing back down. Had they been outside, the force would have caused the ground to shake, knocking anyone nearby off their feet. But inside the street cleaner it had a different effect—the entire vehicle collapsed in a heap.

  “Whoops! Sorry,” said Jet.

  “Bruce, Jet, Donnie,” yelled Chuck. “Into the drain before anyone spots us!”

  Donnie keyed a code into a tiny keypad on the drain cover and it slid open. One by one, each of the meerkats slipped through, sliding down a chute and dropping into the pitch-black drain below.

  “Where are we?” asked Bruce. “I can’t see a thing.”

  There was an electronic whirring as the drain cover slid back over the entry point. A light flickered on to reveal that they were in a room filled with technological gadgetry. The walls were lined with screens displaying CCTV footage from all around London. Sitting by a console covered in rows of buttons was a lumbering bulldog wearing a small bowler hat. He turned to face them, revealing that he had a monocle in his left eye and a scar down the right side of his face.

  “Quite an entrance,” he said. “It reminds me of the time I had to evacuate a tank after some fool pulled the pin out of a grenade, thinking he was opening a tin of sardines.” He chuckled. “Clan of the Scorpion, thank you for responding to my request for assistance. Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Major Works, chief of the British Secret Secret Service.”

  GOFISH

  QUESTIONS FOR THE AUTHOR

  Gareth P. Jones

  What did you want to be when you grew up?

  At various points, a writer, a musician, an intergalactic bounty hunter and, for a limited period, a graphic designer. (I didn’t know what that meant, but I liked the way it sounded.)

  When did you realize you wanted to be a writer?

  I don’t remember realizing it. I have always loved stories. From a very young age, I enjoyed making them up. As I’m not very good at making things up on the spot, this invariably involved having to write them down.

  What’s your most embarrassing childhood memory?

  Seriously? There are too many. I have spent my entire life saying and doing embarrassing things. Just thinking about some of them is making me cringe. Luckily, I have a terrible memory, so I can’t remember them all, but no, I’m not going to write any down for you. If I did that, I’d never be able to forget them.

  What’s your favorite childhood memory?

  To be honest with you, I don’t remember my childhood very well at all (I told you I had a bad memory), but I do recall how my dad used to tell me stories. He would make them up as he went along, most likely borrowing all sorts of elements from the books he was reading without me knowing.

  As a young person, who did you look up to most?

  My mom and dad, Prince, Michael Jackson, all of Monty Python, and Stephen Fry.

  What was your favorite thing about school?

  Laughing with my friends.

  What was your least favorite thing about school?

  I had a bit of a hard time when I moved from the Midlands to London at the age of twelve because I had a funny accent. But don’t worry, it was all right in the end.

  What were your hobbies as a kid? What are your hobbies now?

  I love listening to and making music. My hobbies haven’t really changed over the years, except that there’s a longer list of instruments now. When I get a chance, I like idling away the day playing trumpet, guitar, banjo, ukulele, mandolin (and piano if there’s one in the vicinity). I also like playing out with my friends.

  What was your first job, and what was your “worst” job?

  My first job was working as a waiter. That’s probably my worst job, too. As my dad says, I was a remarkably grumpy waiter. I’m not big on all that serving-people malarkey.

  What book is on your nightstand now?

  I have a pile of books from my new publisher. I’m trying to get through them before I meet the authors. I’m halfway through Maggot Moon by Sally Gardner, which is written in the amazing voice of a dyslexic boy.

  How did you celebrate publishing your first book?

  The first time I saw one of my books in a shop, I was so excited that I caused something of a commotion. I managed to persuade an unsuspecting customer to buy it so I could sign it for her son.

  Where do you write your books?

  Anywhere and everywhere. Here are some of the locations I have written the Ninja Meerkats series: On the 185 and the 176 buses in London, various airplanes, Hong Kong, Melbourne, all over New Zealand, a number of cafes and bars between San Diego and San Francisco, New Quay in South Wales, and my kitchen.

  What sparked your imagination for the Ninja Meerkats?

  The idea came from the publishing house, but from the moment I heard it, I really wanted to write it. It reminded me of lots of action-packed cartoons I used to watch when I was young. I love the fact that I get to cram in lots of jokes and puns, fast action, and crazy outlandish plots.

  The Ninja Meerkats are awesome fighters; have you ever studied martial arts? If so, what types?

  Ha, no. If I was to get into a fight, my tactic would be to fall over and hope that whoever was attacking me lost interest.

  If you were a Ninja Meerkat, what would your name be?

  Hmm, how about Gareth POW! Jones?

  What’s your favorite exhibit or animal at the zoo?

  Funnily enough, I like the meerkats. I was at a zoo watching them the other day when it started to rain. They suddenly ran for cover, looking exactly like their human visitors.

  What’s Bruce’s favorite food?

  Anything with the words ALL YOU CAN EAT written above it.

  If you had a catchphrase like Bruce Force! or Ninja-Boom! what would it be?

  That’s a tricky one. How about PEN POWER!

  If you were a Ninja Meerkat, what would your special ninja skill be?

  I like to think I’d be like Jet, and always working on a new skill. When I got into school, I took the Random Move Generator! We used it to come up with new moves, like the Floating Butterfly Punch and the Ultimate Lemon Punch.

  What is your favorite thing about real-life meerkats? Have you ever met a meerkat?

  I was lucky enough to go into a meerkat enclosure recently. They were crawling all over me, trying to get a good view. It was brilliant.

  What challenges do you face in the writing process, and how do you overcome them?

  The challenge with writing the Ninja Meerkats books is mostly about the plotting. It’s trying to get all the twists and turns to wo
rk, and to avoid them feeling predictable. When I hit problems, I write down as many options as I can think of from the completely ordinary to utterly ridiculous. Once they’re all down on paper, the right answer normally jumps out at me.

  Which of your characters is most like you?

  I’d like to say that I’m wise and noble like Chuck, but I’m probably more like the Ringmaster as we’re both always coming up with new ways to take over the world.

  What makes you laugh out loud?

  My friends.

  What do you do on a rainy day?

  Play guitar, write, watch TV, or go out with my sword-handled umbrella.

  What’s your idea of fun?

  Answering questionnaires about myself. Actually, tomorrow, I’m going to a music festival with my wife where we will dance and cavort. That should be fun.

  What’s your favorite song?

  There are far too many to mention, but today I think I’ll go for “Feel Good Inc.” by Gorillaz.

  Who is your favorite fictional character?

  Another tricky one, but today I’ll say Ged from the Earthsea Trilogy by Ursula K. Le Guin.

  What was your favorite book when you were a kid?

  As a child, I especially loved The Phantom Tollbooth by Norton Juster.

  What’s your favorite TV show or movie?

  Raiders of the Lost Ark.

  If you were stranded on a desert island, who would you want for company?

  My wife and son, then probably my friend Pete, as he’s really handy and would be able to make and build things.

  If you could travel anywhere in the world, where would you go and what would you do?

  I’d like to go to Canada next. Ideally, I’d like to go and live there for a bit. I’ve never been to South America. There are also lots of parts of America I haven’t visited yet.

  If you could travel in time, where would you go and what would you do?

  I think I’d travel to the future and see what’s changed and whether anyone’s invented a new kind of umbrella.

  What’s the best advice you have ever received about writing?