To my mom, Pat, who encouraged me to do my homework in between kicking a ball all around the house, and is still with me every step of the way.
CONTENTS
TITLE PAGE
DEDICATION
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
PREVIEW
ALSO BY FRANK LAMPARD
COPYRIGHT
Welcome to a fantastic fantasy league — the greatest soccer competition ever held in this world or any other!
You’ll need four on a team, so choose carefully. This is a lot more serious than a game in the park. You’ll never know who your next opponents will be, or where you’ll face them.
So lace up your cleats, players, and good luck! The whistle’s about to blow!
The Ref
Frankie stood in front of the marble statue. He checked the question on his handout.
“Who ruled the Roman Empire in 60 AD?”
He read the little card on the wall.
THE EMPEROR NERO (RULED 54-68 AD)
Wow! he thought. That’s nearly two thousand years ago!
He wrote the answer: Nero.
Frankie heard the shuffle of footsteps and turned to see his friend Charlie dragging his feet. He was carrying his clipboard in his hands.
“This museum is the most boring place in the universe,” said Charlie.
“More boring than math class with Ms. Brown?” asked Frankie, grinning.
“Okay, the second most boring place,” said Charlie. “I can’t believe they canceled soccer practice for this.” He flopped onto the bottom step of the staircase, tossed the clipboard aside, and rested his chin in his gloved hands. Frankie saw Charlie had filled in some of the answers, but not many.
“Ahem!” said a voice. Mr. Donald strode out from behind another statue. “Charles, I don’t see how you’re going to complete your assignment unless you take those goalkeeping gloves off.”
Frankie saw his friend quickly hide his clipboard. “I answered all the questions,” said Charlie.
“Oh, really?” asked Mr. Donald, narrowing his eyes. “I don’t see how that’s possible. You haven’t even visited the Egyptian gallery yet and we have to leave in fifteen minutes.”
Charlie blushed. “Just going now,” he said. With a sigh he stood up and began to climb the stairs.
“Wait for me,” said Frankie. “I’m finished with the Roman questions.”
“Good job,” said Mr. Donald. “Your friend Louise is already up there. Almost done, I believe.”
“She would be!” grumbled Charlie.
As they followed the sign to the Egyptian gallery, they passed the café. Loud shouts and laughter came from inside. A moment later, Frankie’s brother, Kevin, and his friends spilled out. When his eyes landed on Frankie, he stopped laughing and sneered.
“It’s the Dork Squad!” he said. “Have you answered all of Donaldo’s questions yet?”
“Just keep walking,” Frankie whispered to Charlie. He’d hoped he wouldn’t bump into his brother’s class. They were at the museum, too, researching their own history projects.
Frankie and Charlie found Louise in the Egyptian room inspecting a green jar on a glass shelf. “This belonged to a pharaoh,” she said when she spotted them.
“A fair-what?” asked Charlie.
Louise rolled her eyes. “‘Pharaoh’ was the name ancient Egyptians gave their king,” she said.
“Yeah, I knew that,” mumbled Charlie.
“They used this jar to store the heart after the pharaoh was mummified,” said Louise.
“Yuck!” said Frankie. He checked his handout. “We have to find the names of five Egyptian gods,” he added. “Apparently the Egyptians worshipped more than sixty!”
“I’ve got four already,” said Louise. She grinned and hid her answer sheet as Charlie peered over her shoulder. “Don’t copy me!”
Frankie wasn’t interested in Louise’s answers. He was looking at something in the center of the room, separated by a red rope. It was like an open coffin standing on its end. The lid was decorated with the face and body of a man. He wore a colorful headdress, painted gold and red, and he had a strange, thin beard. Across his clothes were hundreds of tiny symbols.
“Check that out,” Frankie said.
“That’s the mummy’s sarcophagus,” said Louise.
“Sark-off-a-what?” asked Charlie.
“Like a coffin,” said Louise. “When a pharaoh died, his body was preserved as a mummy, then the mummy was put inside a sarcophagus, and then in a pyramid.”
Frankie marveled at the amazing painted details.
The card next to the exhibit read: SARCOPHAGUS OF UNKNOWN PHARAOH.
“I wonder what all the little pictures mean,” said Charlie.
“They’re called hieroglyphs,” said Louise.
“Hire-oh-what?” said Charlie, smiling. “Only kidding.”
Frankie peered even closer, right into the golden eyes of the unknown pharaoh. Then he felt his bag strap pull on his shoulder, almost dragging him off his feet. He spun around to see Kevin grabbing his bag.
“Hey! I’m not finished with you, little brother.”
“Give that back!” yelled Frankie.
“Ooh … scary!” said his brother. He unzipped Frankie’s bag and tipped it upside down. Out fell Frankie’s pencil case, his lunchbox, and his books. And, last of all, his battered soccer ball. He dropped the bag at Frankie’s feet.
“Pass it here!” said Kevin’s friend Liam.
Before Frankie could react, Kevin backheeled the ball to Liam.
“Don’t do that!” said Louise. “You’ll break something!”
“What are you scared of?” asked Kevin’s friend Matt. “The mummy’s curse?”
Charlie went to get the ball, but Liam chipped it over his shoulder to Rob. All Kevin’s friends were laughing. Frankie stuffed his things into his bag and sprang to his feet.
“Come and get your ball,” said Rob, stepping over it.
Frankie ran at him, his blood pumping. Rob tried to go around him, but Frankie kept his eye on the ball and tackled him. The ball spun up into the air, straight toward the ancient green jar.
Frankie, and everyone else, sucked in a breath.
The ball just missed the jar and rolled under the rope, toward the mummy’s sarcophagus.
“What are you kids up to?” said a voice over the silence. It was Mrs. Murray, Kevin’s history teacher. She might only have been five feet tall and about a hundred years old, but Frankie knew they were terrified of her. “Don’t you have work to do?” she said.
Kevin and his friends all scattered quickly, muttering “Yes, Mrs. Murray” and “Sorry.”
Mrs. Murray glared at Frankie, then followed them out of the room.
“Whew!” said Louise. “That jar is priceless!”
Frankie blew out a long breath and went to get his ball. He stopped right in his tracks when he saw the ball had somehow rolled inside the sarcophagus. “Weird,” he said.
“What?” asked Charlie.
Frankie pointed over at the sarcophagus. “Did you put it in there?”
Both Louise and Charlie shook their heads.
Frankie edged closer. He was going to have to step over the rope to get the ball. He looked up, checking for cameras. If Mr. Donald sees me, I’m going to be in deep trouble.
As he lifted a leg over the rope, the painted gold eyes of the pharaoh watched him intently. Frankie didn’t believe in a mummy’s curse, but he couldn’t help shuddering.
He reached out for
the ball, heart thumping.
Then, with no one touching it, the sarcophagus lid snapped shut.
Louise squealed and Frankie jerked his hand back.
“Is it supposed to do that?” Charlie asked. His skin was pale.
“The wind must have blown it shut,” said Frankie. “Help me get it open again.”
“I’ll keep lookout,” said Louise.
She went to stand by the door as Charlie jumped over the rope to Frankie’s side. They each gripped the crack of the coffin lid and pulled. With a blast of hot air, they managed to pull it open.
“Not again!” Charlie groaned.
Frankie found a smile playing over his lips. There was no sign of the soccer ball in the sarcophagus, but instead there was a colorful, swirling doorway.
“Time for another adventure,” said Frankie.
Charlie frowned. “I’m not sure this time.”
From her lookout position, Louise gasped. “Donaldo’s coming! Quick!” She rushed over and hurled herself through the portal.
“Are you coming?” said Frankie.
“I guess I haven’t got a choice any more,” said Charlie. He leapt through after Louise.
“Where did you guys go?” called Mr. Donald. “The bus will be leaving in five minutes.”
Frankie saw his teacher’s shadow approaching down the corridor.
“Now or never,” he muttered and stepped into the sarcophagus.
“Aaah!” Frankie was falling, tumbling over and over. Something gritty filled his mouth, drowning his cries. The world was a blur. He couldn’t see because his eyes were blinking hard.
He rolled onto his back.
Frankie opened his eyes and saw the sun like a golden disc right overhead. The sky was the purest blue he’d ever seen, without a cloud in sight. He felt sand in his fingers.
“Where are we?” said Charlie.
Frankie sat up and saw an enormous sand dune rising above him.
“We’re in the desert,” he said, climbing to his feet and brushing off his clothes.
Only they weren’t his clothes. Like Charlie, he was wearing a linen tunic, tied at the waist with a belt. Louise wore a blue dress that fell all the way to her ankles.
Frankie turned around, but all he could see was more sand, stretching for miles.
“The magic soccer ball must have brought us here to play a game,” he said.
Charlie spat out a mouthful of sand and shielded his eyes from the sun with a glove. “Maybe it’s broken,” he said, “because we’re in the middle of nowhere.”
“And we don’t have any water,” said Louise. She looked down and yelped. “What’s that?”
The sand by her feet was moving. Something was squirming around beneath the surface. A furry snout broke loose, followed by a dog’s head.
“Max!” cried Frankie.
“Don’t just stand there!” barked the little dog. “Help a hound out, why don’t you?”
Frankie fell to his knees and started scooping sand away. Soon Max scrambled free and shook the sand out of his fur.
“Great,” he said. “I was having a nice snooze by the back door.”
“The magic soccer ball must have brought you,” said Frankie, “even though you weren’t with us in the museum.”
“Brought me where, exactly?” asked Max.
Frankie shrugged. He set off up the side of the sand dune with the sun beating down on his head. The others followed after him, slipping and sliding on the loose sand.
As Frankie reached the crest of the dune, he gasped. In the distance, rising out of the desert, was an enormous pyramid. It blurred in the haze of heat rising from the ground.
“We’re in ancient Egypt!” said Louise.
“But where are our opponents?” asked Charlie.
Frankie pointed to the pyramid. “My guess is we’ll find them over there. Let’s go!”
They trudged down the other side of the dune toward the pyramid.
“It’s bigger than I ever imagined,” said Louise. “Did you know that the pyramids sometimes took more than twenty years to build? They had to drag the huge blocks of stone from the Nile River by hand. Some pyramids had over a million blocks.”
“Whoa!” said Charlie. “That would be even more boring than math homework.”
Max was having trouble keeping up because his paws kept sinking in the sand. Frankie stooped to pick him up. As he rose again, he saw a cart approaching, drawn by a camel.
The driver drew up alongside them and Frankie saw the cart was empty.
“What are you doing out here, wandering in the desert heat?” asked the man.
Frankie searched his mind for an answer, and decided on the truth.
“We’re here for a game of soccer,” he said.
“Aren’t we all?” said the man, settling back onto a large cushion. “Who are you rooting for?”
“We’re playing, actually,” said Frankie.
“We’re Frankie’s Fantasy FC,” added Louise.
The man looked at them solemnly for a moment, and then burst out laughing.
“Very funny!” he said. “You almost had me there!”
“We’re serious,” said Charlie, holding up his hands. “Why do you think I’m wearing these?”
The man was serious again. “I’m not sure why you’re wearing gloves in the desert,” he said. “But a bunch of kids haven’t got a snowball’s chance in the desert of beating King Tut’s team.”
Frankie looked at his friends. “Don’t worry,” he said. “We’ve played against plenty of tough opponents.” But even he was secretly worried. “Can you take us to the pyramid?” he asked.
The man grinned. “Of course!” he said. “The name’s Medhi. Hop on.”
In a short while, they reached the side of the pyramid. Up close, it seemed even bigger, completely blocking out the sun in the sky. Hundreds of people were gathered near a doorway, where two bare-chested guards with swords hanging at their sides were letting them in a few at a time.
“Where are they going?” asked Charlie. “Is it hollow?”
Louise shook her head. “No, but there are chambers and secret passageways inside.”
“Cool!” said Frankie.
“You’d better get out here while I find somewhere to park my camel,” said Medhi. “Join the line.”
Frankie and his friends jumped out. The camel drew back its lips and hissed when it saw Max near its ankles.
“Don’t mind her,” Medhi said. “She’s more of a cat lover. Doesn’t like stray dogs.”
“I’m no stray!” said Max. “I’m a house dog, thank you very much.”
They walked over to the spectators waiting to get in. There were men and women, young and old. Some sheltered under parasols, while others wafted their faces with fans.
“We need to get inside and find the referee,” said Frankie. He tapped a man on the shoulder. “Excuse me, can we get in, please?”
“No,” said the man. “Wait your turn.”
Frankie noticed that many of the people lining up were clutching rough pieces of paper, showing a line drawing of a man standing over a soccer ball. Frankie remembered from the museum that the Egyptians wrote on something called papyrus — paper made from river reeds.
“Any idea who the opponents are today?” asked a woman with an elaborate hairstyle pinned up on her head.
“Nope,” said a thin man, sipping from a water flask. “Who cares? They’ll lose like all the others, and end up locked in the pyramid for eternity.”
Charlie’s eyes went wide. “Hang on. Isn’t eternity a long time?”
“It’s forever,” said Louise.
“We’re not going to lose,” said Frankie. He looked around for Medhi, but he’d vanished.
At that moment, shouts went up at the back of the crowd and another guard came rushing through. He shouted, “Move! Make way for King Tut!”
A murmur passed through the crowd and everyone shuffled aside. A row of servants approached, carrying
a kind of couch on their shoulders. On top of the couch was a boy a bit older than Frankie, his chin raised proudly. Beside him sat a girl. They looked so alike that they had to be brother and sister. The servants carried them inside.
Eventually Frankie and his friends reached the front of the line.
“Tickets, please,” said a bare-chested guard.
Frankie looked at Louise, but she just shrugged. “We don’t have tickets,” he said.
The guard folded his beefy arms and glowered. “No tickets, no entry,” he said.
“But we’re here to play!” said Charlie.
The guard looked Charlie up and down. Then he started laughing and gave his fellow guard a friendly slap on the shoulder. “Yes, and my brother is the god Anubis!” he said, tears pouring down his face.
“Hey!” said a woman’s voice. “Where’s my bracelet?”
Everyone, including Frankie, turned. The woman was feeling her wrist, frowning.
“And my ring’s gone, too!” said the man next to her. He narrowed his eyes. “There’s a pickpocket around here.”
His eyes settled on Frankie and his friends. So did everyone else’s.
“It wasn’t us …” said Louise.
Frankie heard the hiss of metal as the guards drew their swords.
“Run!” he shouted.
They dashed out of the line as the crowd erupted in shouting. Frankie didn’t know which way to go, so he headed alongside the pyramid until his breath was coming hard and fast and his legs were aching. When he looked back, he saw that no one was following them.
Charlie had his hands on his knees, panting.
Max kicked up some sand. “It’s like being at the beach, but there are no crabs to chase.”
Frankie was wondering what to do next when Louise pointed past him. “Isn’t that Medhi?” she said.
Frankie saw him, too. Medhi was standing at the base of the pyramid, running his fingers along the blocks as if he was looking for something.
“Hey!” said Frankie.
Medhi straightened up, blushing as they approached.
“You don’t have a ticket, either?” asked Charlie.
“Something like that.” Medhi grinned.
Frankie vs. the Mummy's Menace Page 1
