“Trust the professor?” I said, panting. “Maybe the base he referred to is where the dirt ends and the actual rock of the mountain peak begins. Wind and rain could’ve altered the visible transition line significantly over the millennia, even to some degree since Dr. Shelsher’s time.”
Mr. Scalone arrived, followed by his hired help. Grunting like a power lifter performing squats, probably to emphasize his strength, he dropped our gear against a rock. “We’re running out of time,” he said. He and the two locals set to work, digging faster than ever. Laboring as a single unit, they alternated shovel and pick, flinging a stream of soil down the slope.
My stomach churned with worry. I couldn’t let this male model of a guide steal this opportunity. Working vigorously over the next hour, my hands grew raw inside the leather gloves. I would unearth the secret entrance of the tomb and let the world see. Riches and ancient history would leak up through the sand, calling my name. I’d swim through artifacts and Maddie would cheer—
The wooden handle shuddered in my hands. No rocks loosened with further digging and prodding. Whatever lay hidden beyond the remaining layer of soil was much larger than a standard desert stone. My eyes, wide with elation, burned in the wind and rain. “The base was once here!”
The beam of Maddie’s flashlight bounced off of the plummeting water droplets between us like falling stars. “You doubted?” she asked. A faint reflection of white revealed a teasing grin. Dashing over, she assisted with the packed dirt that was transforming into mud.
Sucking in a deep breath, I plunged my hands into the softened hillside. A large stone waited beneath. I heaved with all my might. The block didn’t budge. Running my fingers through loosened dirt and mud, I searched for a symbol. After another hour of following the edges of pristinely carved slabs, my thumb fell into a small defect. Tracing the course of the indentation, the wedjat eye, the eye of Horus formed in my mind. This was the hieroglyph! I shoved again, my heart pounding hysterically. The faint grating of a loose block vibrated through my arms, but the slab didn’t give a millimeter. “Help!” I screamed, my voice cracking.
“Stand back,” Mr. Scalone said, sprinting over. “Your scrawny twigs won’t help anymore here. Dig another tunnel over there.” He nodded back a few feet. “Give the men room.”
I didn’t budge, searching for another option.
Mr. Scalone shoved me with one muscular arm. Tripping on a pile of debris, I tumbled over as he and his men propelled themselves against the stone inside the mountain. My hands clenched in anger. Douche bag. Jumping up, I hoped in the excitement Maddie hadn’t noticed how easily he had tossed me aside. But I’d have my glory soon enough.
They all heaved, leaning into the earth. A massive limestone brick shuddered as it crawled inward, rumbling for several feet, and then plunged into darkness. Thunderous crashing erupted from the inner shadowy unknown. Given the hollow character and fading depth of the echoes, the interior must have stretched far into the roots of the mountain.
Everyone stood in shocked awe. As if in a dream, I stepped past the others and climbed beyond the lighted world, across the threshold. Ancient air swept into my lungs with a burning sting as the eons of time crawled inside my soul, jolting my bones. My breath quickened, and its labored rasp broke the age-old silence of the inner sanctum.
“Get outta there quick!” Mr. Scalone yelled.
My body turned chill with terror.
Present Day
“SEND ONE OF THESE GUYS in first,” Mr. Scalone said. He aimed his flashlight at the hired hands, wearing the typical thawb of the Middle East. One’s beard reached to his chest, the other’s lay sparse and patchy upon his chin and cheeks.
No. I was going first. But dread paralyzed my limbs like a dead person who saw no light waiting for him at the end of the tunnel. I had imagined shoving the guide back into the dirt and taking Maddie by her hand into our own adventure, but I couldn’t. This was no longer a fantasy.
A presence hovered around me. Like a hot breath on the back of my neck, the sensation created a blanket of goose bumps on my arms. Shuddering, I swung my flashlight around and cast light upon the secret chamber. A vast darkness swallowed the beam, stretching in all directions. No mounds of treasure or statues of gold stared back at me, but something else lived in here. The feeling drew near.
A massive block swung at my face. Leaping sideways, I tripped and fell upon a stairway a split second before the object smashed into my nose. Stone dangled and twisted precariously overhead. Yelling, I rolled farther away as my chest constricted in panic.
After a moment I stood on trembling legs, my heart racing like an Olympic sprinter. Grabbing my flashlight and fedora, I brushed my pants off and inched around the dangling slab. Thick rope anchored it to something in the darkness above. Was this the same block we’d shoved inside? Its momentum and swaying slowly subsided. I released a clenched breath.
Twisting stairs ran down toward the lower chambers, the symbolic descent of the sun into the underworld.
The heat of fear rose and spread throughout my body. But this was it, what my life was meant for. Intoxicated, I clutched my bronze bracelet, and like a small moth drawn to the searing flame, I wandered down the ancient path. Mr. Scalone’s shouts faded behind me. The walls closed in and the temperature plummeted as I descended several stories into the mountain.
A cartouche-shaped antechamber emerged, its once-sealed stone door smashed to bits. Creeping along, I placed one foot inside. My flashlight beam swung along the path of my trembling hand, lighting up a billow of disturbed dust particles. I coughed. Echoing broke the deathly silence, like a ghost wailing in a cemetery.
The chamber didn’t overflow with colorful artifacts, furniture, chariots, or boats of gold as I had envisioned. Only a few discarded objects lay scattered about, dust laden and dull under the abrasion of time. A twinge of defeat pulled my shoulders down. Like most others, this tomb had probably already been raided in antiquity. Damn it! Punching my thigh, I bit my lip.
My flashlight arced around, searching for anything of value. Soot-covered images adorned the inner stone. Hieroglyphics. I read them, after making sure no treasure remained.
Reflected light glinted from the floor at the far end. A desiccated body seized my attention. I froze, keeping the light fixed on the leathery corpse. Then a presence hovered over me again. Could this be a trap? Glancing around, my heart pounded.
Nothing moved inside the tomb other than disturbed particles of dust. Holding my breath, I scrutinized the body. Dressed in an old-fashioned brown suit and wearing large round glasses, this carcass still had tufts of brown hair.
Dr. Shelsher? He clutched something to his chest in a gnarled hand.
I inched closer. Drained of moisture and deeply wrinkled by the arid climate, the body appeared like a mummy. The skull’s empty sockets swallowed the intrusive shaft of light. My stomach crawled like fingers toward my throat, but I couldn’t look away. In a death grip, he clutched a leather-bound book.
Maybe some answers could be found inside. Reaching for the journal, I paused. The hairs stood up on the back of my neck. A warm breath floated by. Casting my light around the room, I prepared to bolt. Eerie silence.
A face flashed right in front of me, under my swinging beam. Dark eyes and waves of loose hair approached! Dropping the light in sheer terror, I spun away. My trembling legs whirled. But a strong hand clamped down on my shoulder and held me fast. A mummy? The curses were true? A blinding light struck me in the face. I screamed.
Present Day
“MY GOD, YOU SOUND LIKE A twelve-year-old girl,” Mr. Scalone said, shoving me away.
Falling down beside the corpse, embarrassment burnt my cheeks.
“Are you okay?” Maddie yelled from the darkness above. “What happened?”
“He’s fine,” Mr. Scalone said.
I snatched the book from the mummy, accidentally breaking off a curled finger. Tissue vaporized into a cloud and settled as a brown powder. I sneez
ed. Drumming echoes resounded throughout the tomb. Maddie screamed.
Mr. Scalone shook his head before studying the body. Did he see me take the journal?
I turned my back to the guide, pulled my fedora low, and stumbled away. Untying the cracked leather bonds that sealed the book, I spotted a layer of brown dirt on my thumb. Dust from the corpse? Tensing with a combination of fear and disgust, I rubbed the area vigorously on my pants until no particles remained. Then opening the cover, I peeked inside—
A wooden handle skittered across the floor, making me jump in surprise. Mr. Scalone cursed as he kicked aside scattered objects.
Maddie and I should probably sort through the artifacts before our guide, Mr. Ego, ruined them. This find could still impress her, my perfect girl who I’d fallen in love with when we were both freshman in college. “Come down, Maddie,” I tried to yell, but my voice never grew very loud. “You need to see this.”
“Treasure?” Maddie called from above. “Gold beyond my wildest dreams?” Angled rays of light arced over my head. Her approaching footfalls quickened.
The sole of a small boot and a shovel tested the antechamber floor, as if anticipating being struck by a trap or falling into a pit. My light illuminated her. Maddie, a shorter woman in her mid-twenties, slid her thin but shapely frame against the broken limestone slabs at the room’s entrance. Her chest, underneath a blue tank top, arched around the blocks as she lifted a pant-covered leg over the debris.
Gazing upon her initiated a flutter in my stomach, even down here. The woman of my dreams. But the distance might as well have been miles. To her I was just a friend. But if I discovered the Hall, maybe she wouldn’t be able to resist the influence, wealth, power, and fame that would follow. Maybe she could love and respect me then.
I squeezed my abs and cleared my throat to crush the sensation. “There’s a body,” I said, “without an obvious cause of death.”
“Well, it’s what we assumed must’ve happened,” she replied. “Poor Dr. Shelsher. I wonder how he got in here—”
“I don’t think it’s Dr. Shelsher,” I said. “This person’s too young, or he was when he died. And there’s something else … something more interesting.”
“More interesting than 3,500-year-old Egyptian artifacts fashioned of pure gold, hidden inside one of the last lost tombs?” Her sarcasm coated the words.
“Just …” I didn’t know what to say without piquing Mr. Scalone’s curiosity, so I waved her to come closer.
“Watch your step,” Mr. Scalone said from the far end. “Egyptians made traps for tomb robbers, and they built things to last. There might be more to protect the secrets of this tomb than curses.” He shone his light back up the stairway.
An image of the dangling slab that nearly crushed me popped into my head. I shuddered with fright.
“What is it?” she asked, her brown eyes darting about behind fashionably shear glasses.
“Looks like a narrative,” I said, running a finger over the translations inside the journal.
Creeping past me, she glanced around at the scattered tools and broken furniture. “I meant, is this the lost tomb of Amenhotep?”
“I’m not sure yet,” I said, scratching sparse stubble on my chin as I eased through crackling pages. “Looks like an ancient Egyptian story.”
“Like the ‘Tale of Sinuhe’?” she asked, finally studying the book in my hands. “But Egyptians typically used papyrus for stories. I’d assume a translation inside a journal would be from the hieroglyphics on the walls of a tomb or pyramid, or the Hall of—”
“No, it’s more recent than Sinuhe and similar stories,” I said. Maddie stared at me now. “Where’re our guides?”
“They said they would not be coming inside. Their faces turned as pale as ghosts, and they wouldn’t move.”
“Why?” I asked.
Maddie shrugged. “Worried about disturbing the dead maybe? Curses?”
I shook my head in disbelief. “But look at this.” Flashing my light onto the tomb walls, ancient but still vibrant hieroglyphs glowed in yellow, green, red, and blue. Ornate symbols coated in dust adorned the face of every surface, rising to twice the height of a man.
Maddie’s petite jaw fell open and her lips grew slack. “Gavin, could this tell us how to locate the Hall of Records?” Her voice cracked and her flashlight shook. “Are these clues or a map to the treasure … to the secrets and answers to the most important questions people have asked since the beginnings of civilization?”
“There isn’t anything of real value in here,” Mr. Scalone said, tossing an object aside.
I gritted my teeth in frustration. “It’s going to take awhile for me to interpret these hieroglyphics,” I said. “Morning will bring guards and tourists. We’ll be arrested.”
Leaning over a dust-covered object, Maddie ran a hand through her straight, brown hair and tucked it behind an ear. A sparkle gleamed in her eyes as she whipped her flashlight around the scattered artifacts. “We better get started then,” she said, her pupils dilating. “I’d like to see the treasures, learn how to become a god, read the formulas from the magical Scroll of Thoth, learn the secrets of the heavens, the universe, and the earth, and understand what the animals of the world are all saying.”
I scoffed with skepticism. Even I didn’t believe in the legend of the Scroll of Thoth, although I needed the Hall of Records to be real. The Hall could unveil secrets about the past, and possibly the present and future. But how could it possibly grant the knowledge and power for apotheosis—for a man to become god-like on earth, like a pharaoh?
Mr. Scalone snatched the journal from my hand and thumbed through it.
“Hey!” I said, reaching out to take it back. He shoved me away. “Be careful!”
I imagined myself in a caged ring, circling Mr. Scalone. He’d hold the journal. A crowd would watch in hushed silence. Maddie would sit in the front row, twirling her hair with nervous tension. I’d rush Mr. Scalone and we’d lock arms, sprawling down with the sharp slap of bodies on canvas. He’d punch toward my face, but I’d grab his wrist and pull it back. My legs would wrap around his torso, locking his elbow. He’d scream and pound the mat, tapping out. The crowd would erupt with cheers, and Maddie would run into the ring, handing me the journal as she kissed my cheek—
“Oh my god!” Maddie’s shrill cry echoed through the chamber.
Spinning around in shock, my stomach caught in my throat.
She stood before a pile of broken stone, obscuring a dark passageway. Mr. Scalone dropped the journal and ran over to assist with moving debris. Scooping up the book, I brushed it off and placed it in my messenger bag.
Maddie and Mr. Scalone crawled over the shattered rubble of another once-sealed doorway. I ran after them.
Inside the next chamber light danced amongst objects from millennia long past—broken, but of academic value—and settled on an opened granite sarcophagus. Reflections danced off of gold, black, and ivory engravings encrusting the coffin. My heart raced and my throat dried in anticipation, forcing a swallow.
“The lost tomb of Amenhotep?” Maddie whispered, studying a broken figurine at her feet—a shabti statuette. “This is the burial chamber. A treasure room should be adjoining this one!”
Mr. Scalone reached down toward the discarded object.
“You probably shouldn’t touch anything else,” Maddie said. “Not yet.”
“Why?” he asked, his heavily tattooed hands and arms hovering over the blue and red hieroglyphs upon the statuette. “Will we be cursed? Like the coincidence during the discovery of King Tut’s tomb? It wasn’t even the workers, it was Lord Carnarvon, the man funding the expedition who died suddenly in times when medicine was hardly advanced.”
“But he died from a mosquito bite,” Maddie said. “Then his dog died and other mysterious deaths followed. We need to catalog this all correctly first.”
The guide didn’t reach farther, but still eyed the treasure.
My trembling
fingers squeezed the bronze bracelet on my forearm, attempting to steady myself. Breathing came in tense, shallow gulps. I didn’t believe the tales, but reality faded down here. The ancient spells said death would come swiftly to whoever disturbed Pharaoh’s rest. “Something down here killed the professor’s student. And how could anyone else have gotten in or out?”
“How do you know it was his student?” Maddie asked, standing on her tiptoes to peek into the sarcophagus.
“The name on the inside cover of the journal is John Walsh,” I said. “He was a PhD candidate under Dr. Shelsher.”
Mr. Scalone’s large fingers brushed against the crushed face of the shabti figurine. He chuckled, grabbed the statuette, and thrust it up into the light. The air turned cold and the walls shuddered around us, releasing a musty stench.
Present Day
A BOOM SHOOK THE MOUNTAIN. I jumped before realizing thunder had cracked outside.
Mr. Scalone dropped the crushed artifact. “A piece of forgotten crap compared to what I was expecting,” he said.
Maddie examined the once-colorful female figurine, crafted of bronze. “This one’s supposed to be Pharaoh’s concubine in the next life.” Laughing, she placed the damaged artifact into a plastic sack before nestling it into her messenger bag. “Gavin, maybe you should take one. You know, since you can’t get anywhere with Kaylin.”
I almost dropped my flashlight in shock. What? Did Maddie really think I wanted Kaylin, our mutual friend from college whose rich dad backed this expedition? She must be teasing, attempting to relieve any tension from turning me down in the past.
A reflective sparkle momentarily blinded me. The wavering beam of my flashlight settled upon the outer sarcophagus of the glorious dead. I gulped stale air, awe stricken. Eerie images of a twisted mummy, the fallen god-king sleeping within the eternal granite flooded my mind.
“Just one souvenir,” Maddie said. “My mentors will love it.” Her light also focused on the sarcophagus, whose worth to history would be more precious than anything else in the burial chamber.
Eve of the Pharaoh: Historical Adventure and Mystery Page 2
