by R. L. Stine
“It’s only two blocks,” I said to Ahmed. “Sari and I could walk back by ourselves if you want. You really don’t have to take us.”
“It is no trouble,” Ahmed replied, and he placed his hands firmly, one on my shoulder, one on Sari’s, and continued to guide us to his car.
We crossed the street and continued walking. The sidewalk grew even more crowded. A man swinging a leather briefcase accidentally clipped my shoulder with it. I cried out in pain.
Sari laughed.
“You have a great sense of humor,” I muttered sarcastically.
“I know,” she replied.
“If we’d walked, we would have been at the hotel already,” I said.
Ahmed must have overheard, because he said, “The car’s on the next block.”
We made our way quickly through the crowds. A short while later, Ahmed stopped at a small four-door station wagon. It was covered with dust, and the fender on the driver’s side was crunched.
He pulled open the back door, and Sari and I piled in. “Ow,” I complained. The leather seats were burning hot.
“The wheel is hot, too,” Ahmed said, climbing in and fastening his seat belt. He touched the steering wheel a few times with both hands, trying to get used to the heat. “They should invent a car that stays cool inside when it is parked.”
The engine started on the second try, and he pulled away from the curb and into the line of traffic.
Immediately, he began honking the horn at the car in front of us. We moved slowly, stopping every few seconds, through the narrow street.
“I wonder why Daddy didn’t come to get us,” Sari said to me, her eyes on the crowds passing by the dusty car window.
“He said he would wait for you at the hotel,” Ahmed replied from the front seat.
He made a sudden sharp turn onto a wider avenue and began to pick up speed.
It took me a long while to realize that we were heading in the wrong direction — away from our hotel. “Uh … Ahmed … I think the hotel is back that way,” I said, pointing toward the back window.
“I believe you are mistaken,” he replied softly, staring straight ahead through the windshield. “We will be there shortly.”
“No. Really,” I insisted.
One thing about me is I have a really good sense of direction. Mom and Dad always say they don’t need a map when I’m around. I almost always know when I’m heading the wrong way.
Sari turned to glance at me, an expression of concern beginning to tighten her features.
“Settle back and enjoy the ride,” Ahmed said, staring at me through the rearview mirror. “Have you fastened your seat belts? Better do it right now.”
He had a smile on his face, but his voice was cold. His words sounded like a threat.
“Ahmed, we’ve gone too far,” I insisted, starting to feel really afraid.
Outside the window, the buildings were lower, more rundown. We seemed to be heading away from the downtown area.
“Just settle back,” he replied with growing impatience. “I know where I’m going.”
Sari and I exchanged glances. She looked as worried as I did. We both realized that Ahmed was lying to us. He wasn’t taking us to the hotel. He was taking us out of town.
We were being kidnapped.
9
Seeing Ahmed’s eyes on me in the rearview mirror, I fiddled with the seat belt, pretending to fasten it. As I did this, I leaned close to Sari and whispered in her ear, “Next time he stops.”
At first she didn’t get my meaning. But then I saw that she understood.
We both sat tensely, eyes on the door handles, waiting in silence.
“Your father is a very smart man,” Ahmed said, staring at Sari in the mirror.
“I know,” Sari replied in a tiny voice.
The traffic slowed, then stopped.
“Now!” I screamed.
We both grabbed for the door handles.
I pushed my door open and flung myself out of the car.
Horns were honking in front of me and behind me. I could hear Ahmed’s surprised shout.
Leaving the car door open, I turned to see that Sari had made it to the street, too. She turned to me as she slammed her door shut, her eyes wide with fear.
Without a word, we started to run.
The car horns seemed to grow louder as we headed into a narrow side street. We were running side by side, following the narrow brick street as it curved between two rows of tall white stucco buildings.
I feel like a rat in a maze, I thought.
The street grew even narrower. Then it emptied into a wide circle filled with a small market of fruit and vegetable stands.
“Is he following us?” Sari cried, a few steps behind me now.
I turned back and searched for him, my eyes darting through the small crowd attending the market.
I saw several people in flowing white robes. Two women entered the market, dressed in black, carrying a basket loaded high with bananas. A boy on a bicycle swerved to keep from running straight into them.
“I don’t see him,” I called back to Sari.
But we kept running just to make sure.
I’d never been so scared in my life.
Please, please, I begged silently, don’t let him be following us. Don’t let him catch us!
Turning a corner, we found ourselves on a wide, busy avenue. A truck bounced past, pulling a trailer filled with horses. The sidewalk was crowded with shoppers and businesspeople.
Sari and I pushed our way through them, trying to lose ourselves in the crowd.
Finally, we came to a stop near the entrance of what appeared to be a large department store. Breathing hard, I rested my hands on my knees, leaning forward, and tried to catch my breath.
“We’ve lost him,” Sari said, staring back in the direction from which we’d come.
“Yeah. We’re okay,” I said happily. I smiled at her, but she didn’t return the smile.
Her face was filled with fear. Her eyes continued to stare into the crowd. One hand tugged nervously at a strand of her hair.
“We’re okay,” I repeated. “We got away.”
“There’s only one problem,” she said quietly, her eyes still on the crowd bustling toward us on the sidewalk.
“Huh? Problem?”
“Now we’re lost,” she replied, finally turning to face me. “We’re lost, Gabe. We don’t know where we are.”
I suddenly had a heavy feeling in the pit of my stomach. I started to utter a frightened cry.
But I forced myself to hold it in.
I forced myself to pretend I wasn’t afraid.
Sari had always been the brave one, the winner, the champ. And I was always the wimp. But now I could see that she was really scared. This was my chance to be the cool one, my chance to show her who was really the champ.
“No problem,” I told her, gazing up at the tall glass-and-concrete buildings. “We’ll just ask somebody to direct us to the hotel.”
“But no one speaks English!” she said, sounding as if she were about to cry.
“Uh … no problem,” I said, a little less cheerily. “I’m sure someone …”
“We’re lost,” she repeated miserably, shaking her head. “Totally lost.”
And then I saw the answer to our problem parked at the curb. It was a taxi, an empty taxi.
“Come on,” I said, tugging her arm. I pulled her to the taxi. The driver, a thin young man with a wide black mustache and stringy black hair falling out of a small gray cap, turned around in surprise as Sari and I climbed into the backseat.
“The Cairo Center Hotel,” I said, glancing reassuringly at Sari.
The driver stared back at me blankly, as if he didn’t understand.
“Please take us to the Cairo Center Hotel,” I repeated slowly and clearly.
And he tossed back his head, opened his mouth, and started to laugh.
10
The driver laughed till tears formed in th
e corners of his eyes.
Sari grabbed my arm. “He’s working for Ahmed,” she whispered, squeezing my wrist. “We’ve walked right into a trap!” “Huh?” I felt a stab of fear in my chest. I didn’t think she was right. She couldn’t be right! But I didn’t know what else to think. I grabbed the door handle and started to leap out of the taxi. But the driver raised a hand, signaling for me to stop.
“Gabe — go!” Sari pushed me hard from behind. “Cairo Center Hotel?” the driver asked suddenly, wiping the tears from his eyes with a finger. Then he pointed through the windshield. “Cairo Center Hotel?” Sari and I both followed his finger. There was the hotel. Right across the street. He started to laugh again, shaking his head.
“Thanks,” I shouted, and climbed out.
Sari scrambled out behind me, with a relieved look on her face. “I don’t think it’s that funny,” I told her. “The cab driver has a strange sense of humor.”
I turned back. The driver was still staring at us, a broad smile on his face.
“Come on,” she urged, tugging at my arm. “We have to tell Daddy about Ahmed.”
But to our surprise, our hotel room was empty. My note was still on the table where I had left it. Nothing had been moved or touched.
“He hasn’t been back here,” Sari said, picking up my note and crumpling it into a ball in her hand. “Ahmed lied — about everything.”
I flopped down on the couch with a loud sigh. “I wonder what’s going on,” I said unhappily. “I just don’t get it.”
Sari and I both screamed as the door to the room flew open.
“Daddy!” Sari cried, running to hug him.
I was sure glad it was Uncle Ben and not Ahmed.
“Daddy, the strangest thing —” Sari started.
Uncle Ben had his arm around her shoulder. As he led her across the room toward the couch, I could see that he had a really dazed expression on his face.
“Yes, it’s strange,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Both of my workers …”
“Huh? Are they okay?” Sari asked. “No. Not really,” Uncle Ben replied, dropping onto the arm of the armchair, staring hard but not really focusing on me. “They’re both … in a state of shock. I guess that’s how to describe it.”
“They were in an accident? In the pyramid?” I asked.
Uncle Ben scratched the bald spot at the back of his head. “I don’t really know. They can’t talk. They’re both … speechless. I think something — or someone — frightened them. Scared them speechless. The doctors are completely confused. They said that —”
“Daddy, Ahmed tried to kidnap us!” Sari interrupted, squeezing his hand.
“What? Ahmed?” He narrowed his eyes, his forehead wrinkling up in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“Ahmed. The guy at the pyramid. The one who wears the white suits with the red bandanna and always carries the clipboard,” Sari explained.
“He told us you sent him to get us,” I said. “He came to the museum —”
“Museum?” Uncle Ben climbed to his feet. “What were you doing at the museum? I thought I told you —”
“We had to get out of here,” Sari said, putting a hand on her dad’s shoulder, trying to calm him. “Gabe wanted to see mummies, so we went to the museum. But Ahmed came and took us to his car. He said he was taking us to you at the hotel.”
“But he was driving the wrong way,” I continued the story. “So we jumped out and ran away.”
“Ahmed?” Uncle Ben kept repeating the name, as if he just couldn’t believe it. “He came to me with excellent credentials and references,” he said. “He’s a cryptographer. He studies ancient Egyptian. He’s mainly interested in the wall writings and symbols we uncover.”
“So why did he come for us?” I asked.
“Where was he going to take us?” Sari asked.
“I don’t know,” Uncle Ben said. “But I certainly intend to find out.” He hugged Sari. “What a mystery,” he continued. “You’re both okay?”
“Yeah. We’re okay,” I replied.
“I’ve got to get to the pyramid,” he said, letting go of Sari and walking to the window. “I gave my workers the day off. But I’ve got to get to the bottom of this.”
Clouds rolled over the sun. The room suddenly grew darker.
“I’ll order up some room service for you,” Uncle Ben said, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Will you two be okay here till I get back tonight?”
“No!” Sari cried. “You can’t leave us here!”
“Why can’t we come with you?” I asked.
“Yes! We’re coming with you!” Sari exclaimed before Uncle Ben had a chance to reply.
He shook his head. “Too dangerous,” he said, his eyes narrowing as he glanced first at me, then at Sari. “Until I can find out what happened to my two workers in there —”
“But, Daddy, what if Ahmed comes back?” Sari cried, sounding really frightened. “What if he comes here?”
Uncle Ben scowled. “Ahmed,” he muttered. “Ahmed.”
“You can’t leave us here!” Sari repeated.
Uncle Ben stared out the window at the darkening sky. “I guess you’re right,” he said finally. “I guess I have to take you with me.”
“Yes!” Sari and I both cried, relieved.
“But you have to promise to stick close,” Uncle Ben said sternly, pointing a finger at Sari. “I mean it. No wandering off. No more practical jokes.”
I realized I was seeing a whole new side of my uncle. Even though he was a well-known scientist, he had always been the jolly practical joker of the family.
But now he was worried.
Seriously worried.
No more jokes until the frightening mystery was cleared up.
We had sandwiches downstairs in the hotel restaurant, then drove through the desert to the pyramid.
Heavy clouds rolled across the sun as we drove, casting shadows over the sand, coloring the desert darkly in shimmering shades of blue and gray.
Before long, the enormous pyramid loomed on the horizon, appearing to grow larger as we approached on the nearly empty highway.
I remembered the first time I had seen it, just a few days before. Such an amazing sight.
But now, watching it through the car windshield, I felt only dread.
Uncle Ben parked the car near the low entrance he had discovered behind the pyramid. As we stepped out, the wind whipped at the ground, tossing the sand up, whirling it around our legs.
Uncle Ben raised a hand to stop us at the tunnel entrance.
“Here,” he said. He reached into his supply pack and pulled out equipment for Sari and me. “Clip this on.”
He handed each of us a beeper. “Just push the button, and it will beep me,” he said, helping me clip mine to the belt on my jeans. “It’s like a homing device. If you push the button, it sends electronic signals to the unit I’m wearing. Then I can track you down by following the sound levels. Of course, I don’t expect you to use it because I expect you to stay close to me.”
He handed us flashlights. “Watch your step,” he instructed. “Keep the light down at your feet, a few yards ahead of you on the floor.”
“We know, Daddy,” Sari said. “We’ve done this before, remember?”
“Just follow instructions,” he said sharply, and turned into the darkness of the pyramid opening.
I stopped at the entrance and pulled out my little mummy hand, just to make sure I had it.
“What are you doing with that?” Sari asked, making a face.
“My good-luck charm,” I said, slipping it back into my pocket.
She groaned and gave me a playful shove into the pyramid entrance.
A few minutes later, we were once again making our way carefully down the long rope ladder and into the first narrow tunnel.
Uncle Ben led the way, the wide circle of light from his flashlight sweeping back and forth across the tunnel ahead of him. Sari was a few steps behind him, and I wal
ked a few steps behind her.
The tunnel seemed narrower and lower this time. I guess it was just my mood.
Gripping the flashlight tightly, keeping the light aimed down, I dipped my head to keep from hitting the low, curved ceiling.
The tunnel bent to the left, then sloped downhill where it split into two paths. We followed the one to the right. The only sound was that of our shoes scraping against the sandy, dry floor.
Uncle Ben coughed.
Sari said something. I couldn’t hear what it was.
I had stopped to shine my light on a bunch of spiders on the ceiling, and the two of them had walked several yards ahead of me.
Following my light as it moved over the floor, I saw that my sneaker had come untied once more.
“Oh, man — not again!”
I stooped to tie it, setting the flashlight on the ground beside me. “Hey — wait up!” I called.
But they had started to argue about something, and I don’t think they heard me. I could hear their voices echoing loudly down the long, twisting tunnel, but I couldn’t make out their words.
I hurriedly double-knotted the shoelace, grabbed up the flashlight, and climbed to my feet. “Hey, wait up!” I shouted anxiously.
Where had they gone?
I realized that I couldn’t hear their voices anymore.
This can’t be happening to me again! I thought.
“Hey!” I shouted, cupping my hands over my mouth. My voice echoed down the tunnel.
But no voices called back.
“Wait up!”
Typical, I thought.
They were so involved in their argument, they forgot all about me.
I realized that I was more angry than frightened. Uncle Ben had made such a big deal about us sticking close together. And then he walked off and left me alone in the tunnel.
“Hey, where are you?” I shouted.
No reply.
11
Beaming the light ahead of me on the floor, I ducked my head and began jogging, following the tunnel as it curved sharply to the right.
The floor began to slope upwards. The air became hot and musty smelling. I found myself gasping for breath.
“Uncle Ben!” I called. “Sari!”
