Curse of the Mummy's Tomb

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Curse of the Mummy's Tomb Page 7

by R. L. Stine

“What a day?” I cried shrilly. “What a day?”

  “Gabe, why did you do that?” she demanded. “You know we were supposed to stay close together.”

  “Hey — it wasn’t my fault,” I insisted angrily.

  “Daddy is so mad,” Sari said, shining her light in my face.

  I raised my arm to shield my eyes. “Cut it out,” I snapped. “He won’t be mad when he sees what I’ve discovered. Look.”

  I shined my light onto a mummy crouching near the tar pit, then moved it to anther mummy, this one lying down, then to the row of mummy cases against the wall.

  “Wow.” Sari mouthed the word silently. Her eyes grew wide with surprise.

  “Yeah. Wow,” I said, starting to feel a little more like normal. “The chamber is filled with mummies. And there are all kinds of tools and cloth and everything you need to make a mummy. It’s all in perfect shape, like it hasn’t been touched in thousands of years.” I couldn’t hide my excitement. “And I discovered it all,” I added.

  “This must be where they prepared the mummies for burial,” Sari said, her eyes darting from mummy to mummy. “But why are some of them standing up like that?”

  I shrugged. “Beats me.”

  She walked over to admire the stacks of neatly folded linen. “Wow. This is amazing, Gabe.”

  “Outstanding!” I agreed. “And if I hadn’t stopped to tie my sneaker, I never would have discovered it.”

  “You’re going to be famous,” Sari said, a smile spreading across her face. “Thanks to me saving your life.”

  “Sari —” I started.

  But she had moved across the room and was admiring one of the upright mummies close up. “Wait till Daddy sees all this,” she said, suddenly sounding as excited as me.

  “We have to call him,” I said eagerly. I glanced back at the scorpion nest and felt a chill of fear tighten the back of my neck.

  “People were so tiny back then,” she said, holding her flashlight up close to the mummy’s covered face. “Look — I’m taller than this one.”

  “Sari, use your beeper,” I said impatiently, walking over to her.

  “Yuck. There are bugs crawling on this one’s face,” she said, stepping back and lowering the light. She made a disgusted face. “Gross.”

  “Come on. Use your beeper. Call Uncle Ben,” I said. I reached for the beeper at her waist, but she pulled away.

  “Okay, okay. Why didn’t you use yours?” She eyes me suspiciously. “You forgot about it, didn’t you, Gabe!” she accused.

  “No way,” I replied sharply. “Mine broke when I fell into this place.”

  She made a face and pulled the beeper off her belt loop. I shined my light on it as she pushed the button. She pressed it twice, just to make sure, then clipped it back onto her jeans.

  We stood with our arms crossed, waiting for Uncle Ben to follow the radio signals and find us.

  “It shouldn’t take him long,” Sari said, her eyes on the tunnel in the corner. “He wasn’t far behind me.”

  Sure enough, a few seconds later, we heard the sounds of someone approaching in the tunnel.

  “Uncle Ben!” I called excitedly. “Look what I’ve found!”

  Sari and I both started to run to the tunnel, our lights zigzagging over the low entrance.

  “Daddy, you won’t believe —” Sari started.

  She stopped when the stooped figure leaned out of the darkness and straightened up.

  We both gaped in horror, our flashlights making his mustached face glow eerily.

  “It’s Ahmed!” Sari cried, grabbing my arm.

  16

  I swallowed hard.

  Sari and I stared at each other. I saw her features tighten in fear.

  Ahmed.

  He had tried to kidnap us. And now he had us all alone down here.

  He stepped forward, a flaming torch held high in one hand. His black hair glowed in the flickering flames. His eyes narrowed at us in menace.

  “Ahmed, what are you doing here?” Sari called, grasping my arm so hard, I winced.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked softly, his voice as cold as his eyes.

  Holding the torch in front of him, he stepped into the chamber. His eyes went around the room, as if inspecting it, making sure that nothing had been moved.

  “My dad will be here in a second,” Sari warned him. “I just beeped him.”

  “I tried to warn your father,” Ahmed said, staring hard at Sari. The flickering orange light from the torch made him grow bright, then fade into shadow.

  “Warn him?” Sari asked.

  “About the curse,” Ahmed said without emotion.

  “Uncle Ben mentioned some kind of curse to me,” I said, glancing nervously at Sari. “I don’t think he takes that kind of thing seriously.”

  “He should!” Ahmed replied, screaming the words, his eyes glowing with anger in the torch light.

  Sari and I stared back at him in silence.

  Where is Uncle Ben? I wondered.

  What’s keeping him?

  Hurry, I urged silently. Please — hurry!

  “The curse must be carried out,” Ahmed said softly again, almost sadly. “I have no choice. You have violated the Priestess’s chamber.”

  “Priestess?” I stammered.

  Sari was still squeezing my arm. I tugged it away. She crossed her arms resolutely over her chest.

  “This chamber belongs to the Priestess Khala,” Ahmed said, lowering the torch. “This is the sacred Preparation Chamber of the Priestess Khala, and you have violated it.”

  “Well, we didn’t know,” Sari snapped. “I really don’t see what’s the big deal, Ahmed.”

  “She’s right,” I said quickly. “We didn’t touch anything. We didn’t move anything. I don’t think —”

  “Shut up, you fools!” Ahmed screamed. He swung the torch angrily as if trying to hit us.

  “Ahmed, my dad will be here any second,” Sari repeated, her voice trembling.

  We both turned our eyes to the tunnel. It was dark and silent.

  No sign of Uncle Ben.

  “Your father is a smart man,” Ahmed said. “It is too bad he wasn’t smart enough to heed my warnings.”

  “Warnings?” Sari asked.

  I realized she was stalling for time, trying to keep Ahmed talking until Uncle Ben arrived.

  “I frightened the two workers,” Ahmed confessed to Sari. “I frightened them to show your father that the curse was alive, that I was prepared to carry out Khala’s wishes.”

  “How did you frighten them?” Sari demanded.

  He smiled. “I gave them a little demonstration. I showed them what it might feel like to be boiled alive.” He turned his eyes to the tar pit. “They didn’t like it,” he added quietly.

  “But, Ahmed —” Sari started.

  He cut her off. “Your father should have known better than to return here. He should have believed me. He should have believed in the Priestess’s curse. The Priestess cursed all who would violate her chamber.”

  “But, come on, you don’t really believe —” I started.

  He raised the torch menacingly. “It was decreed by Khala more than four thousand years ago that this sacred chamber would not be violated,” he cried, gesturing with the torch, leaving a trail of orange light against the darkness. “Since that time, from generation to generation, descendants of Khala have made sure that the Priestess’s command was obeyed.”

  “But, Ahmed —” Sari cried.

  “It has come to me,” he continued, ignoring her, ignoring us both, staring at the ceiling as he spoke, as if speaking directly to the Priestess up in the heavens. “It has come to me as a descendant of Khala to make sure the curse is carried out.”

  I stared past Ahmed to the tunnel. Still no sign of Uncle Ben.

  Was he coming? Had Sari’s beeper worked?

  What was keeping him?

  “I volunteered to work for your father to make sure that Khala’s sacred sanctuary was
not violated,” Ahmed continued, shadows flickering over his menacing face. “When he would not heed my warnings, I had to take action. I frightened the two workers. Then I planned to take you away, to hide you until he agreed to stop his work.”

  He lowered the torch. His face filled with sadness. “Now, I have no choice. I must carry out my sacred duties. I must keep the ancient promise to Khala.”

  “But what does that mean?” Sari cried. The orange torchlight revealed her frightened expression.

  “What does it mean?” Ahmed repeated. He gestured with the torch. “Look around you.”

  We both turned and glanced quickly around the chamber. But we didn’t understand.

  “The mummies,” he explained.

  We still didn’t understand. “What about the mummies?” I managed to stammer.

  “They were all violators of the Priestess’s chamber,” Ahmed revealed. The thin smile that formed on his face could only be described as a proud smile.

  “You mean — they’re not from ancient Egypt?” Sari cried, raising her hands in horror to her face.

  “A few of them,” Ahmed replied, still smiling that frightening cold smile. “A few of them were ancient intruders. Some are quite recent. But they all have one thing in common. They all became victims of the curse. And they all were mummified alive!”

  “No!” I screamed without realizing it.

  Ahmed ignored my terrified outburst. “I did that one myself,” he said, pointing to a mummy standing stiffly at attention at the edge of the tar pit.

  “Oh, how awful!” Sari cried, her voice trembling.

  I stared hopefully at the tunnel opening behind Ahmed. But there was still no sign of Uncle Ben.

  “Today, I must go to work again,” Ahmed announced. “Today there will be new mummies. New trophies for Khala.”

  “You can’t do that!” Sari shrieked.

  I grabbed her hand.

  To my horror, I understood perfectly now. I understood why some of the mummies were in such good condition.

  They were new.

  All of the tools, the tar, the linen — they had been used by descendants of Khala, descendants like Ahmed. Since the time of Khala, anyone who had entered the chamber — the chamber we were now standing in — had been mummified.

  Alive.

  And now Sari and I were about to become mummies, too.

  “Ahmed, you can’t!” Sari cried. She let go of my hand and made angry fists at her side.

  “It is the will of Khala,” he replied softly, his dark eyes glowing in the light of the torch.

  I saw a long-bladed dagger appear in his free hand. The blade caught the light from the torch.

  Sari and I both took a step back as Ahmed began moving toward us with quick, determined strides.

  17

  As Ahmed approached, Sari and I shrank back to the center of the chamber.

  Run, I thought.

  We can run away from him.

  My eyes searched frantically for a place we could escape through.

  But there was no way out.

  The tunnel in the corner appeared to be the only opening. And we’d have to run right past Ahmed to get to it.

  Sari, I saw, was frantically pressing the beeper at her waist. She glanced at me, her features tight with fear.

  “Yowwww!”

  I cried out as I suddenly backed into someone.

  I turned and stared into the bandaged face of a mummy.

  With a loud gasp, I lurched away from it.

  “Let’s make a run for the tunnel,” I whispered to Sari, my throat so dry and tight, I could barely make myself heard. “He can’t get both of us.”

  Sari stared back at me, confused. I don’t know if she heard me or not.

  “There is no escape,” Ahmed said softly, as if reading my thoughts. “There is no escape from Khala’s curse.”

  “He — he’s going to kill us!” Sari screamed.

  “You have violated her sacred chamber,” Ahmed said, raising the torch high, holding the dagger at his waist.

  He stepped nearer. “I saw you climb into the sacred sarcophagus yesterday. I saw you two playing in Khala’s holy chamber. It was then that I knew I had to carry out my sacred duties. I —”

  Sari and I both cried out as something dropped from the chamber ceiling.

  All three of us looked up to see a rope ladder dangling from the hole I had fallen through. It swung back and forth as it was lowered, nearly to the floor.

  “Are you down there? I’m coming down!” Uncle Ben shouted to us.

  “Uncle Ben — no!” I screamed.

  But he was already moving down the ladder, making his way quickly, the ladder steadying under his weight.

  Halfway down, he stopped and peered into the chamber. “What on earth —?” he cried, his eyes roaming over the amazing scene.

  And then he saw Ahmed.

  “Ahmed, what are you doing here?” Uncle Ben cried in surprise. He quickly lowered himself to the floor, jumping down the last three rungs.

  “Merely carrying out Khala’s wishes,” Ahmed said, his face expressionless now, his eyes narrowed in anticipation.

  “Khala? The Priestess?” Uncle Ben wrinkled his features in confusion.

  “He’s going to kill us!” Sari cried, rushing up to her dad, throwing her arms around his waist. “Daddy — he’s going to kill us! And then turn us into mummies!”

  Uncle Ben held Sari and looked over her shoulder accusingly at Ahmed. “Is this true?”

  “The chamber has been violated. It has fallen to me, Doctor, to carry out the curse.”

  Uncle Ben put his hands on Sari’s trembling shoulders and gently moved her aside. Then he began to make his way slowly, steadily, toward Ahmed.

  “Ahmed, let us go out of here and discuss this,” he said, raising his right hand as if offering it in friendship.

  Ahmed took a step back, raising the torch menacingly. “The Priestess’s will must not be ignored.”

  “Ahmed, you are a scientist, and so am I,” Uncle Ben said. I couldn’t believe how calm he sounded. I wondered if it was an act.

  The scene was tense. We were in such terrifying danger.

  But I felt just a little bit calmer knowing that my uncle was here, knowing that he’d be able to handle Ahmed and get us out of here — alive.

  I glanced reassuringly at Sari, who was staring hard, biting her lower lip in tense concentration as her father approached Ahmed.

  “Ahmed, put down the torch,” Uncle Ben urged, his hand extended. “The dagger, too. Please. Let’s discuss this, scientist to scientist.”

  “What is there to discuss?” Ahmed asked softly, his eyes studying Uncle Ben intently. “The will of Khala must be carried out, as it has been for over four thousand years. That cannot be discussed.”

  “As scientist to scientist,” Uncle Ben repeated, returning Ahmed’s stare as if challenging him. “The curse is ancient. Khala has had her way for many centuries. Perhaps it is time to let it rest. Lower your weapons, Ahmed. Let’s talk about this. Scientist to scientist.”

  It’s going to be okay, I thought, breathing a long sigh of relief. It’s all going to be okay. We’re going to get out of here.

  But then Ahmed moved with startling quickness.

  Without warning, without a word, he gripped the torch handle with both hands, and, still holding the dagger, swung the torch as hard as he could at Uncle Ben’s head.

  The torch made a loud thonk as it connected with the side of Uncle Ben’s face.

  The orange flames danced up.

  A swirl of bright color.

  And then shadows.

  Uncle Ben groaned. His eyes bulged wide with surprise.

  With pain.

  The torch hadn’t set him aflame. But the blow knocked him out.

  He slumped to his knees. Then his eyes closed, and he dropped limply to the floor.

  Ahmed raised the torch high, his eyes gleaming with excitement, with triumph.

 
And I knew we were doomed.

  18

  “Daddy!”

  Sari rushed to her father and knelt at his side.

  But Ahmed moved quickly, thrusting the torch toward her, holding the dagger ready, forcing her to back away.

  A thin trickle of blood, glowing darkly in the light of the fire, rolled down the side of Uncle Ben’s face. He groaned but didn’t stir.

  I glanced quickly at the mummies scattered around the room. It was hard to believe that we would soon be one of them.

  I thought of leaping at Ahmed, trying to knock him over. I imagined grabbing the torch, swinging it at him, forcing him against the wall. Forcing him to let us escape.

  But the blade of the dagger glowed, as if warning me to stay back.

  I’m just a kid, I thought.

  Thinking I could beat a grown man with a knife and a torch was just crazy.

  Crazy.

  The whole scene was crazy. And terrifying.

  I suddenly felt sick. My stomach tightened, and a wave of nausea swept over me.

  “Let us go — now!” Sari screamed at Ahmed.

  To my surprise, he reacted by swinging back the torch and heaving it across the room.

  It landed with a soft plop in the center of the tar pit. Instantly, the surface of the tar burst into flames. The flames spread, leaping up toward the chamber ceiling, until the entire square was aflame.

  As I stared in amazement, the tar popped and bubbled beneath the orange-and-red covering of flames.

  “We must wait for it to boil,” Ahmed said calmly, the shadows cast by the flames flickering across his face and clothing.

  The chamber grew thick with smoke. Sari and I both started to cough.

  Ahmed bent down and put his hands under Uncle Ben’s shoulders. He began to drag him across the floor.

  “Leave him alone!” Sari screamed, running frantically toward Ahmed.

  I saw that she was going to try to fight him.

  I grabbed her shoulders and held her back.

  We were no match for Ahmed. He had already knocked Uncle Ben unconscious. There was no telling what he would do to us.

  Holding onto Sari, I stared at him. What did he plan to do now?

  It didn’t take long to find out.

  With surprising strength, he pulled Uncle Ben across the floor to one of the open mummy cases against the wall. Then he hoisted him over the side and shoved him into the case. Not even the slightest bit out of breath, Ahmed slid the lid closed over my unconscious uncle.

 

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