He opened his eyes, turned away and gazed up at the cavernous roof, where hundreds of his minions roosted. He knew it was against their instincts to leave the cave by daylight but he concentrated his powers and willed them to obey him.
The creatures began to stir and flap their leathery wings. A couple of them released their grip on the craggy rock and fluttered towards the cave entrance, intent on obeying the high priest’s commands. Then more of them followed, and more and more, until there was a great stirring mass of them, speeding out into the pale sunlight and arcing upwards into the sky, seeking out the thing that Sonchis wanted them to destroy.
He turned to watch them go, saw them receding into the distance like a twisting, swirling sand devil stirred by the wind; and then in the distance he heard an unfamiliar sound: the snarl of the plane’s engine as it sped to its destruction.
He allowed himself the ghost of a smile. Then he turned back to the chasm and resumed his kneeling position. He became aware of somebody staring at him and saw that the woman was now fully awake. She was lying on her side, her hands securely tied behind her back.
‘You . . . you made those bats leave ’ere,’ she said. ‘You must also ’ave sent them to attack us that time.’
Sonchis bowed his head slightly. ‘From childhood I have been able to make certain creatures do my bidding,’ he said. ‘So as soon as I emerged from my burial place in the body of another man, I called to them to help me. My scarabs came instantly. The hyenas took longer because they had to travel so far. And the bats have always lived here in the lair of Apophis. Sending them against you was good practice for me . . . a way of seeing if I could still command the creatures of the earth and air to do my bidding. But now, if you’ll excuse me . . . there is one more creature I must summon from his sleep.’
Madeleine laughed. ‘You cannot believe that this is going to work,’ she told him. ‘A giant snake? It is preposterous.’
He looked at her for a moment. ‘And if somebody had told you only a few days ago that a man who had lain entombed for three thousand years would get up and walk – would you have thought that preposterous also?’
She gazed at him, the expression on her face telling him that she had no ready answer for him.
‘The great serpent will rise,’ he assured her. ‘And I shall be lord of all Egypt. You can depend on that.’
They were getting close now. On the far horizon, Alec could see the limestone cliffs rising from the sand, tiny at first, but rapidly growing in size as they approached. He looked back over his shoulder and pointed at them. Ethan nodded: he had seen them too.
‘How are we going to land?’ yelled Alec. He was not altogether encouraged by the reply he got – a shrug of the American’s shoulders and a worried expression.
In their rush to leave, there had been no time to ponder questions like that. Now they were almost at their destination and they would have to put down as best they could. A crash landing. The only alternative was to turn round and head back without Madeleine and that, Alec knew, was unthinkable.
Then he noticed something in the air ahead of them; what he at first took to be a trail of brown smoke. Only this smoke appeared to be speeding towards the plane in a long, shifting column, and as it drew nearer, he could see that it was made up of dark, flapping shapes. He opened his mouth to shout to Ethan, but as he did so, one of the shapes hurtled into the plane’s propeller and exploded in a burst of crimson. Alec felt drops of warm liquid spatter his face, misting his goggles.
The plane lurched under the impact and then more shapes were zooming towards them, skimming just above their heads, bouncing off the fuselage. Alec threw up an arm just in time to ward off a savage set of jaws and the bat went tumbling away. He twisted round to see Ethan crouched down in his cockpit, trying his best to shake a couple of the creatures off his shoulders. Ahead, it was as though the biplane was plunging into a forest of flapping wings and snapping teeth. A series of heavy impacts rocked Alec in his seat as more of the creatures blundered into the propeller, their blood coating his goggles. He tore them off, flung them aside and then heard the plane’s engine give a faltering, coughing squeal as it began to clog with furry bodies. The plane lurched abruptly sideways and then flipped over on to its back. Alec yelled in terror as he felt his own weight tugging on his lap strap. The petrol can seemed to float up past him and he grabbed hold of it and hugged it to his chest, knowing that if he lost that, he would have no means of defeating Sonchis.
Leathery shapes glanced off his head and thudded into his shoulders and then, quite unexpectedly, the plane emerged from darkness into clear air. Ethan struggled to right it, but the engine was making a hideous screeching din and Alec was horribly aware of the ground whizzing past just a short distance above his head. They had to right themselves. If they didn’t turn back over in time . . .
He glanced back and saw Ethan struggling to make the turn, his blood-spattered face set in an expression of grim determination; and then Alec whipped round again as something exploded right in front of him. Fire and smoke began to belch out of the engine – he could feel the heat of it blasting back into his face. Ethan was still trying to bring the plane back up, but it didn’t seem to be responding to the controls . . .
It had swung back to perhaps a forty-five-degree angle when the starboard wing ploughed into sand. Alec felt an abrupt impact that seemed to thud into every part of his body. A flurry of sand flew into his eyes, the lap strap snapped open and he was thrown forward; then his head struck something hard, lights seemed to flash in front of his eyes and he was falling into darkness.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The Gates of Apophis
ALEC OPENED HIS eyes. He was lying on the sand and his head felt like it was splitting open. He lifted the fingers of one hand to assure himself that this was not the case and found nothing more alarming than a large bump. He lifted his face from the sand and looked around warily.
To his surprise, he saw that the cliffs they had been heading for were now only a few hundred yards away. He turned his head and saw something more worrying. Sticking up out the ground were the remains of what had once been a biplane, now little more than a jumble of broken wood and flapping canvas. Flames were licking up from the shattered engine casing and trailing back along the fuselage towards the place where Alec had been sitting. He experienced a brief feeling of relief that he was no longer in harm’s way, but this turned to horror as he registered the fact that Ethan was still sitting in the cockpit. There was a splash of blood across one shoulder of his khaki shirt and he appeared to be unconscious.
‘Ethan!’ Without a moment’s hesitation, Alec was up and running towards the biplane. He clambered up the fuselage to look down into the cockpit, grabbed Ethan by the shoulders and began to shake him violently. Nothing happened. He tore off the American’s helmet and goggles and slapped his face hard.
Ethan’s eyes opened. He sat there for a moment, groggy, looking at Alec. ‘Why are you hitting me?’ he asked.
‘You’ve got to get out!’ yelled Alec.
‘Out?’ Ethan looked puzzled. ‘Out of where?’
‘The fuel tank could blow at any moment!’ Alec grabbed Ethan under his arms and started trying to pull him free.
Now Ethan looked around and it dawned on him exactly where he was. The grogginess went out of him in an instant. ‘Holy mother of God!’ he said.
Alec was horribly aware that the cockpit in front of them was already consumed by fire. He could feel the heat on his face.
Ethan began to try and lever himself out of his seat, but didn’t seem to be getting anywhere.
‘The lap strap!’ said Alec. ‘Hurry!’
Ethan reached down and unclipped it. Then he was able to scramble up, and he and Alec fell over the side of the fuselage onto the sand.
‘Come on,’ said Ethan, starting to crawl away on his hands and knees. ‘We daren’t stay here any—’
He broke off as he found his way blocked by a pair of withe
red, skeletal legs and he looked up in surprise to find one of the mummies looking down at him, an angry scowl on its hideous face. Ethan reached instinctively for the pistol at his waist but the mummy launched a savage kick at his chest, sending him reeling back towards the wreckage. Alec jumped to his feet and ran at the creature, knowing that he had no weapon of any kind and all too aware that the flames were now consuming the cockpit where Ethan had just been sitting. How the plane had not yet exploded was a mystery.
Operating on instinct, Alec dived between the creature’s legs, rolled forward and came back to his feet. The mummy spun awkwardly around, reaching out its arms to grab for him; as it did so, Alec dived head first at its chest, delivering a powerful head butt. It reeled away with a baffled grunt and Ethan rolled against its legs, tipping it backwards with a bellow of rage.
Ethan looked at Alec. ‘Run for the cave!’ he yelled, getting to his feet.
Alec needed no second bidding. As he ran, he glanced back over his shoulder and saw the mummy getting clumsily to its feet. It was now standing only a few yards from the wreckage of the plane; then it began to stagger after them—
Alec felt the explosion an instant before he saw it – a burst of hot air that swatted him forward like a giant’s hand. Then there was a flash and a great orange ball of flame engulfed the spot where the mummy had been standing. Alec hit the sand and Ethan landed beside him. There was a moment of utter silence and then things began to rain down around them: bits of burning canvas, shards of splintered wood and, most alarmingly, several pieces of smouldering mummy. The creature’s head tumbled past them and came to a halt, one cheek against the sand. As Alec stared at it in mute horror, the mummy’s lips curled into a snarl and it uttered a last feeble grunt of rage.
Alec grimaced in revulsion. He turned and saw that Ethan was now sitting up and pulling aside his shirt to look at the wound in his shoulder.
‘How is it?’ asked Alec.
‘Just a gash,’ said Ethan. ‘I guess I’ll live. Come on.’ He got to his feet and started towards the cave entrance.
‘Wait!’ said Alec. He had just spotted something lying in the sand a short distance away from the wreckage. He gave the mummy’s snarling head a wide berth and ran over to pick up the petrol can. He was glad to see that the lid was still firmly on, and now he noticed something that he had missed when he had filled the can in the darkness. It was made of copper. It had been a total accident but now it seemed significant. He remembered the lining of the sarcophagus and the manacles that had bound Sonchis’s wrists. Both had been made of copper.
‘We might need this,’ he said as he and Ethan ran towards the Gates of Apophis.
‘I’m not sure it’s a good idea trying to rescue Madeleine,’ muttered Ethan.
Alec stared at him. ‘What do you mean?’ he cried.
‘She’ll probably kill us when she sees what we’ve done to her plane!’
In different circumstances, it would have been funny; but the open cave mouth lay ahead and neither of them felt like laughing. They didn’t know what they might find there.
They came to the steep pile of scree below the cave mouth and began to climb.
Madeleine watched Sonchis in mute disbelief. He was on his knees and his lips were moving as he chanted the words under his breath – words she could not quite hear; and she told herself that she must be imagining things because she thought she could feel the ground beneath her shuddering, as though deep beneath the earth something immense was moving, shifting, coiling . . .
Meanwhile she was using the sharp jagged rock just behind her to saw through the ropes that secured her wrists. She kept glancing at the mummy that stood guard over her, but she could not be sure how much intelligence lay behind those gaunt, wasted features. The creature was watching her as it had been instructed to, but did not seem to be taking much notice of what she was actually doing.
She returned her attention to Sonchis, noticing – not for the first time – the two objects that hung round his neck on a leather thong. One was a small statue of Apophis; the other was like a Wadjet eye, a popular ancient Egyptian talisman, only the pupil of this eye was long and snakelike; and she remembered what she had read in the papyrus: the eye of the serpent was the charm that other high priests had created to keep Sonchis’s spirit prisoner. But now, it seemed, he was using it as some kind of amulet, perhaps deriving some of his power from it.
Another shudder rippled through the stone beneath her, too strong to be her imagination – and Sonchis broke off from the ritual for a moment to stare at her in triumphant delight. She noticed how he lifted a hand to stroke the amulets as he spoke, his eyes blazing with triumph.
‘Did you feel that?’ he cried. ‘The great serpent stirs! Now try to tell me that I am deluding myself!’
Madeleine gazed steadily back at him, but when she spoke, her voice lacked conviction, even to her own ears. ‘That was nothing more than . . . an earth tremor . . . they ’appen ’ere every day!’
Sonchis laughed; a most unpleasant sound. ‘Apophis is rising!’ he said. ‘He is emerging from his lair of dreams to take his place as the lord of our world.’ He smiled at Madeleine. ‘He will be hungry after such a long sleep,’ he said. ‘You will provide him with sustenance.’ Then he turned back and continued his chanting. He was speaking in his own language, his voice louder, menacing, and she could understand only a few words and phrases.
‘Awake, great serpent!’ she heard him say. ‘The power of Sonchis commands you! The power of Sonchis compels you!’
And then, from the depths of the abyss, she heard a sound that seemed to freeze the blood in her veins. It was a deep, resonant hiss that seemed to fill the cave. The earth shook again and she knew that there really was something down there; something massive and powerful and deadly. It was awake now and moving towards the surface . . .
Terrified, Madeleine continued to saw frantically at the ropes that bound her.
Near the top of the pile of scree, Alec and Ethan paused and looked at each other.
‘Did you hear that?’ whispered Alec.
Ethan nodded but said nothing and continued to climb. They reached the top of the incline and were able to peer over the threshold into the gloom of the cave. They could see the weird, half-naked figure of Sonchis on his knees, and beside him, two figures: the tall cadaverous shape of a mummy standing a short distance from the high priest and there, stretched out on the ground, Madeleine. She was moving, apparently trying to free herself.
Ethan crept into the cave and Alec followed close behind. As they moved forward, the mummy sensed their presence. It turned and began to shamble towards them, arms outstretched. Ethan drew his pistol and shot the creature in the chest, blowing a sizeable hole through it. It faltered for only an instant. Ethan fired twice more but it kept on coming.
Sonchis had turned his head and directed a mirthless smile at Ethan. ‘You’re too late!’ he cried.
He got to his feet and moved towards Madeleine, grabbing her by the throat and lifting her to her feet. Then he returned to the chasm and pushed her to the very edge.
The mummy closed on Ethan and wrapped him in its hideous embrace, its arms clamping around his ribs and crushing the air from his lungs. He fell back against the wall and Alec ran to try and help him. He lifted the heavy copper petrol can by its handle and swung it with all his strength at the mummy’s head. There was a dull thud and the head came clean off and went bouncing along the ground. The mummy, blind now, reeled away from Ethan and stumbled towards Alec. He sidestepped and the creature continued towards the mouth of the cave. It reached the edge, plunged over and went tumbling down the shale incline out of sight.
Alec and Ethan turned back and cautiously began to approach Sonchis, both of them horribly aware that one push from him would send Madeleine to her doom. But he seemed to be waiting for something. The ground was shaking constantly now and the cave filled with that eerie hissing. Alec was aware of something moving in the abyss beyond; something
immense that was rising rapidly to the surface.
Ethan lifted the pistol and aimed it at Sonchis. ‘Let her go,’ he said.
Sonchis laughed. ‘You think your puny weapon can defeat me?’ he cried.
‘Sure, why not?’ said Ethan, trying to be cool.
‘You made a valiant effort,’ said Sonchis. ‘But you are too late. Apophis comes!’
‘Use the gun!’ screamed Alec.
‘I can’t!’ said Ethan. ‘I might hit Madeleine.’
‘You’ve got to try!’
But in that instant Madeleine’s arms came round from behind her back and the fingers of one hand clawed at Sonchis’s face, the nails gouging the flesh around his eyes, while with the other hand she grabbed something that was hanging around his neck on a leather thong and pulled hard. The thong snapped and he released her. She fell to the ground and rolled quickly away.
Sonchis looked down at his chest in dull surprise, realizing that the source of his power was gone. He extended a hand towards Madeleine, his face contorted in rage.
‘Give them to me!’ he roared; and his voice seemed to fill the cave.
Alec knew he had one chance and he took it. He ran forward, hefting the heavy copper petrol can like a shot put; and summoning all his strength, he launched it straight at the high priest’s chest. It struck him hard, driving the breath out of him, and his hands closed instinctively around the can as he stumbled backwards towards the edge of the chasm.
Alec registered the look of shock on his face as he realized he was clutching a piece of copper to his chest – the substance that had held him bound for so many thousands of years.
‘Now, Ethan!’ yelled Alec. ‘One shot!’
Ethan had only a split second in which to fire. He lifted the pistol and took quick aim at the petrol can as Sonchis teetered on the brink. Alec heard the crack of the gunshot an instant before the priest disappeared over the edge of the crevasse.
The Eye of the Serpent Page 21
