by P. J. Night
Lucy headed into the bathroom—and almost immediately came out again. “Daria’s not in there,” she said in a puzzled voice.
“Are you sure?” asked Jane.
“Yes, of course. There are only three stalls in there, and she’s not in any of them.”
“Is there a window?” asked Megan. “Maybe she felt so faint from hunger that she opened the window to get some fresh air.”
“And then did what?” asked Lucy. “Climbed out the window to get even fresher air? Anyway, there isn’t a window. We’re in the basement, remember?”
“I’m trying to remember if Daria even came downstairs with us,” said Jane thoughtfully. “She said she was hungry. But did either of you notice whether she actually came down to the basement?”
Silence.
“I don’t think she did,” said Lucy finally. “She walked to the stairs with us. I do know that. But when we got to the vending machines, I was only thinking about what to buy.”
“We all were,” said Megan. “All that time, Daria was in trouble. And we never once thought of helping her.”
“Wait—why do you say she was in trouble?” asked Jane.
Megan looked at her, amazed. “How could she not be in trouble if she’s not with us? She would never leave us on purpose. We’re her friends!”
“I wouldn’t say that,” Jane answered. “I don’t think she likes any of us that much. She’s been pretty awful since the moment we met her.”
“Totally awful,” Lucy agreed. “I’m sure there’s nothing the matter.”
Megan’s eyes were wide. “But we still have to find her, right?”
“I guess we do,” said Lucy without enthusiasm. “I’d rather just go back to sleep. But it’s probably not a great idea for her to be on her own. Anyway, we’re wandering around the museum because of her. If we get caught or something, she should be with us to get in trouble too.”
That seemed like confused reasoning to Jane. After all, the real reason they were wandering around the museum was that Lucy hadn’t been able to resist Daria’s dare. But Jane didn’t point that out. Instead she asked, “What time is it?” as the three girls wearily began to climb the stairs to the first floor.
“I’m not sure. Probably about two thirty,” Lucy replied.
Megan sighed. “This is terrible. I’m supposed to get eight hours of sleep a night.”
“Everyone’s supposed to get eight hours of sleep a night, not just you,” snapped Lucy.
“But I always get sick when I get overtired!” Megan said.
“You’ll survive,” Jane told her. “Now, does anyone have a clue where Daria might’ve gone?”
“My mom says I always pick the wrong direction,” Lucy answered. “I would probably walk straight ahead now. So if I’m always wrong, straight ahead would be the wrong direction. So let’s go the opposite way.”
Megan looked confused. “You mean, walk backward?”
“No, silly. I mean turn around.” Lucy did just that, and so did Jane and Megan. Then Lucy said, “Since the first place I would look now is in the Exhibit of Asian Mammals”—she pointed to their left—“we should probably go into the Portrait Gallery.” That was on their right.
“Why does a natural history museum have a portrait gallery, do you think?” asked Megan. “Paintings are supposed to be in art museums, aren’t they?”
“These are all portraits that Mrs. Templeton owned,” Lucy explained. “She wanted them exhibited here, and she was the one in charge, so here they are.”
“At least portraits won’t be creepy,” said Megan.
But Jane wasn’t so sure of that once they were inside the first room of paintings. All those shadowy pictures of long-ago people seemed to crowd in on her. She couldn’t escape the weird feeling that the people in the portraits were mad at her for being . . . what? Out in the open?
Lucy seemed to share Jane’s mood. “See that man in the gold frame?” she said in a low voice. “I think he’s watching me. I know people always say that about portraits, but I swear I just saw his eyes move.”
“I was thinking the same thing about that old lady over there—the one holding the bouquet,” said Megan. “When we first came in, I thought she was smiling. But then she frowned for a second. She really did!”
For once, Jane didn’t think Megan was imagining things. The room was getting to her, too. It wasn’t only the people in the paintings, either. She was sure she’d been in this room before. It was just a feeling, not a memory—but Jane couldn’t shake it.
“There’s one good thing about this room,” Jane said. “We can see for sure that Daria’s not here. There’s no place she could be hiding.” She sighed. “We’ll have to look somewhere else. Lucy, you’ve been here a lot. Do you have any idea what kind of exhibits Daria would like?”
“She’s kind of mean,” said Lucy. “If this museum had a torture chamber, I’m sure she’d love it. But it doesn’t. Maybe she went to the costume exhibit.”
“Fine,” said Jane.
The moods of the three girls did not improve when they got lost taking a “shortcut” that Lucy suggested. Instead of leading them to the Costume Hall, her route led them to the Hall of Rocks and Minerals.
“We could check out that baseball-size pearl while we’re here,” said Lucy hopefully. “Also, they have a magnet thing where you can stick to the ceiling.”
“I don’t think so,” said Jane.
“Me either,” said Megan.
As the girls trudged along, Jane gradually became aware of a noise that didn’t belong. It was soft, almost gentle—a scraping or brushing, or maybe someone dragging something.
I must really be tired, she thought. I’m starting to imagine things.
But why would her imagination dream up such a boring sound?
Whshhhh . . . whshhh . . .
Almost like a shuffling sort of step . . .
“What’s that noise?” Megan asked. “That—that brushing sound.”
“I hear it too,” said Lucy. “I thought I was imagining things.”
“That’s what I thought too,” said Jane. “But if we all hear it . . .”
Whshhh . . . whshhh . . . whshhh . . .
It seemed to be coming from close by, but Jane couldn’t tell exactly where. It was much, much worse to know that she wasn’t imagining it.
“Do you think someone is sweeping the floor?” asked Lucy quietly.
“Maybe,” Megan answered equally quietly. “Maybe the cleaning crew works late. Like really late. But whatever it is, we’ve got to get out of here before they find us.”
“Okay,” said Lucy. “Don’t run, Megan. Just walk fast. Running would be too loud.”
The sound was louder now, closer. It was terrible not knowing where it was coming from—and not being able to run away from it. Jane had to press down on her thighs to keep from dashing away. But where could they escape to?
Now they were coming toward the end of the hall, which branched off in two directions. “Which way?” Megan whispered.
“Left. No, wait! I’m always wrong! Go right!” said Lucy.
Try as she might, Jane couldn’t slow herself down. In fact, she was walking faster and faster. So were Lucy and Megan. Hearts pounding, they rounded the corner . . .
And ran smack into the mummy.
CHAPTER 9
A shredded, festering mummy. Its face hidden, its arms outstretched, its bandages dragging on the floor behind it.
No one remembered Lucy’s warning about walking, not running. All three girls wheeled around and raced back the way they had come.
“Oh no oh no oh no oh no.” Megan was half sobbing next to Jane. Jane wanted to tell her to save her breath, but she couldn’t waste her own breath on talking.
She looked quickly back over her shoulder and shuddered. The mummy was running too—a stiff-legged, awkward run like something straight out of a bad horror movie.
But something seemed a little off. As frightened as she was, Jane cou
ldn’t help remembering the trick with the fly mask that Lucy had played on her earlier that evening. Still, it wouldn’t make sense to stop running. To give up on hope.
These thoughts all flashed through Jane’s mind in an instant. Her legs were still pounding along. From behind her, she could hear the mummy lurching closer. And then, out of the blue, it started laughing.
Laughing in a voice that all three of the girls recognized. The mummy raised one hand and ripped the toilet paper off its face, revealing a grinning Daria.
“Gotcha,” she said.
Gasping, the three girls stared at her. Then Megan slumped over, panting dramatically. “You almost gave me a heart attack!” she said.
“I knew you’d be afraid,” Daria answered smugly. “But Jane and Lucy should have seen their faces. They were just as scared as you.”
Jane had been scared, but now she was furious at herself for having been tricked so easily. She was even angrier at Daria. What a waste of time this whole night had been!
“Hardy-har-har,” said Lucy, who also looked very angry. “You know what, Daria? I don’t care if there is a mummy in the museum. I’m going to go back to the Great Hall and forget this whole stupid thing.”
“It was just a joke!” said Daria.
“A stupid one,” Jane replied.
“Well, aren’t we sensitive?” said Daria sarcastically.
“Please don’t fight,” quavered Megan. “I get scared when people get mad at each other.”
Which was probably the first and last time Jane, Lucy, and Daria agreed about something: Megan was a total baby.
“Anyway,” Megan continued, “I never wanted to be outside the Great Hall. If you guys hadn’t practically kidnapped me after you woke me up, I’d be safe in my sleeping bag right now.”
By now Lucy had a pretty good idea where they were. “If we go up those stairs, I think the Great Hall will be right around the corner,” she told them. “Let’s go.”
Jane and Lucy walked toward the stairs in silence. Megan was next to them, still whimpering a protest under her breath.
“—Not comfortable with disagreements,” Jane heard her say. “Wouldn’t it be great if we could all try to get along?”
Well, it was way too late for that. Daria was trailing the other girls by about twenty feet, trying to peel off her toilet paper bandages as she walked. She looked kind of uncomfortable.
Maybe she was embarrassed that her joke had fallen so flat.
The girls tramped along for what seemed like blocks, getting more exhausted by the minute. “Stay close to the walls so no guards see us,” Lucy warned them at one point.
“Maybe they should see us. They might carry us back,” said Jane. She yawned. “I’ve had it with all of this walking.”
But there was the sign for the Great Hall at last. Jane blew out a sigh of relief.
“Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,” hissed Megan loudly. “We don’t want to wake anyone up.”
“You shush,” snapped Lucy. “Which door did you come out of?”
A look of panic crossed Megan’s face. “I don’t know! I was sleepwalking, remember?”
“Come to think of that, which door did we use?” asked Jane.
Lucy paused. “Uh, this one, I think. But all we have to do is look around for empty sleeping bags, right? We were definitely near one of the doors, because I had us use a different one. And now I realize how dumb that was, by the way.”
“Well, there’s no way to figure it out while we’re standing here. And it’ll have to be every girl for herself when we’re in there,” said Jane. “Just don’t step on any sleeping bag that has a girl in it. See you in the morning, Megan.”
Megan looked as if she was about to protest, but Jane and Lucy walked quickly into the Great Hall before she could say anything. After a second she followed, with Daria right behind her.
It was so dark that Jane had to stand still for a minute or so until her eyes got used to it. Megan found her sleeping bag immediately and flashed Jane a big thumbs-up. Good night, she mouthed silently.
So Megan was taken care of. Now, what about me? thought Jane as she tried to remember where Megan had slept in relation to Lucy, Daria, and herself. She was pretty sure that Megan had been across the room from them, which meant that she’d been near the door they snuck out of—which also meant that once again they were going to have to get all the way across the room without waking anyone up.
Every girl for herself. Jane set her teeth and started tiptoeing toward her sleeping bag.
This time, at least, she and Lucy were lucky. None of the other girls woke up, and they didn’t trip over anyone. Daria must have made it back safely as well, but Jane never noticed. She was out cold before she’d finished crawling into her sleeping bag.
She’d been asleep for an hour or so when she felt something gently brush her cheek.
“No, Lucy,” she murmured thickly. “No more.” She turned over onto her back and tried to nestle her head into her pillow.
But where was her pillow?
Jane patted the floor around her sleeping bag. No pillow. And now that she thought about it, the floor was even harder than she’d remembered. Had she slid off her foam mattress? Why were her legs out in the open?
Because, Jane realized, she wasn’t wrapped up in her blankets, either.
Startled, she opened her eyes.
And she realized that she was no longer in the Great Hall. She was lying on a high, hard surface in the middle of a room that was stiflingly hot.
Was she on a table? In the hospital, maybe? The dim shapes of people she couldn’t quite see were hovering over her. She thought she sensed people bustling around behind them as well.
Was I in some kind of accident? she wondered.
Now a sharp, strange smell wafted in her direction. Jane turned her eyes in the direction it was coming from and saw a row of stone jars lined up nearby. The smell was coming from one of them.
Why would a hospital have stone jars?
Jane struggled to sit up—but her legs and arms were too heavy to move. She tried to lift her head. It felt like a boulder that she couldn’t dislodge. She tried to scream—but her mouth wouldn’t open. She couldn’t make a sound. Other than her eyes, she was completely paralyzed.
Helpless, she stared up at the ceiling of the tent overhead.
Wait, she thought. A tent?
Where was she—and how had she gotten here?
Then she heard a deep, hollow voice.
“The body is ready.”
“Excellent,” someone else answered. “Here is the linen.”
Someone began to wrap Jane’s feet tightly, using what felt like strips of stiff cloth. Then they began wrapping her legs. She could feel the pressure of the cloth against her skin.
It’s too tight! she tried to shout—but she couldn’t speak.
They were wrapping her torso. From somewhere behind her, a man began to chant.
“Now she will live for all eternity. Now she will meet the great Osiris, Lord of Silence, son of Geb, husband of Isis.”
Other voices joined in the chant. Jane’s arms were being crossed over her chest and tied down with more bandages.
“Now she will make her home in the land of the blessed dead.”
The chanting grew louder and faster as Jane felt the bandages twist around her neck.
“Now she will make her home in the land of the blessed dead. Now she will make her home in the land of the blessed dead. Now she will make her home in the land of the blessed dead.”
Now Jane knew what was happening.
She was being turned into a living mummy.
CHAPTER 10
Jane sat bolt upright in her blankets.
Around her the Great Hall was hushed and cool. Everyone was asleep. Nobody was in danger, and nothing bad was about to happen. Through the windows near the ceiling, she could see the first hints of gray morning light.
“Oh, thank you, thank you,” Jane whispered to the air.
“It was just a dream.”
She was breathing hard, as if she’d been running, and it took a couple of minutes for her pulse to slow down. Just a dream, but it had seemed so real! Was that really what being mummified was like? And if so, had she had a dream—or a vision?
Whatever it had been, she was definitely here right now, and she was safe. Jane lay down and stretched luxuriously, savoring the fact that she was the only one awake in this quiet place.
Or was she? Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Daria beginning to sit up a few sleeping bags over.
“Sorry—did I wake you?” whispered Jane.
Daria didn’t look at her. Either she hadn’t heard Jane or she was ignoring her.
“Daria, are you okay?”
Daria certainly looked very strange. Not as if she’d had a nightmare—more as if she was in a trance. Slowly, slowly, she sat up. Slowly, slowly, she stood up. As she stood motionless for a second, Jane caught a glimpse of her face.
It was as pale as paper. Daria’s dark eyes were glowing, and her mouth was set in a mysterious half smile.
“Daria!” Jane whispered it more urgently this time.
Still Daria didn’t seem to hear. She began to move away from Jane, walking so lightly that she almost seemed to float. Stepping over some sleepers and walking around others, she headed toward the nearest doorway.
Jane gave an exasperated sigh. Could Daria possibly be another sleepwalker? Should Jane follow and try to wake her? Get one of the chaperones?
It’s not as if she’s a friend of mine, Jane reasoned with herself. She’s been obnoxious all night. She’s gotten me and Lucy into trouble a couple of times. And I’ve definitely had enough wandering for one night.
Maybe Daria was just going to the bathroom. In any case, Jane decided not to let it be her problem.
She watched Daria vanish through the doorway. And then she settled back down to sleep.
“RISE AND SHINE! GOOD MORNING, GIRLS! TIME TO WAKE UP!”
“No, no!” Jane mumbled into her pillow. “I’ve only been asleep for a minute!”
“WAKE UP!” Katherine screeched again. She flashed the overhead lights on and off and then left them on. She and Willow started clapping their hands and stamping through the Great Hall, tugging some sleeping bags and nudging others.
