Curse of the Mummy's Uncle

by J. Scott Savage

  “Do you feel anything?” Carter called from the back.

  “Only your hand digging into my shoulder blade,” Nick said.

  Carter snorted. “Well, excuse me for not wanting to get separated.”

  Angelo stopped suddenly and Nick banged into his back. “There’s something here. It feels like . . .” There was a wet squelching sound, and Angelo backed away. “Disgusting. It’s all squishy.”

  “Taste it,” Carter said. “It might be Jell-O.”

  “It’s not Jell-O.” Angelo sounded slightly nauseated. “And I’m not tasting it. It smells like pig guts.”

  Nick felt his stomach roll over.

  They moved around the squishy stuff and walked for several minutes in silence. Suddenly Angelo cried out, “I’m falling!”

  Nick felt his friend tilt forward and pulled back with all his strength. For a second, Angelo continued to lean, and Nick felt his fingers slipping. He yanked as hard as he could and Angelo fell backward against him. His breathing sounded loud and harsh in the darkness. “What was it?” Nick asked.

  “Some kind of drop-off,” Angelo gasped. Nick felt Angelo kneel down, and a moment later he said, “I can’t feel the bottom.”

  “We can’t keep going like this or one of us is going to get killed,” Nick said. “If only we had some light.”

  “Hey,” Carter called. “I feel something.”

  “You feel me,” Nick said.

  “No. Right after you said we need light, something bumped my foot. It felt kind of like . . .” There was a shuffling sound, and suddenly a flame lit the darkness. “It’s another torch,” Carter said, holding the flaming stick over his head. “Look, there’s a pile of them right here.”

  Angelo’s face went pale. “Put it out!” he yelled, grabbing the torch from Carter’s hand and stubbing out the flames on the ground.

  “Are you crazy?” Nick shouted. “What did you do that for?”

  “Hang on,” Carter said. “I’ll get another one.”

  “No.” Angelo sounded terrified. “I remember now. When the first two brothers went into the house of darkness, the lords of death gave them sticks to burn. They told them they had to return the sticks uncharred, but the brothers used them to light the darkness. That’s why they cut off one of their heads.”

  Carter’s gulp was so loud, Nick could hear it in the darkness.

  “That book of yours didn’t happen to say how to get through this place, did it?” Nick asked.

  “I’m sure it did,” Angelo said. “But I didn’t put it in my . . .” He snapped his fingers, the sound clear and sharp in the darkness. “My notes. That’s it!” There was a crinkling sound in the darkness.

  “What are you doing?” Nick asked.

  The crinkling sound came again. “Okay, when I say now, light another torch. Then put it right back out. Now!”

  Nick heard Carter moving around, and a torch burst into flame. Angelo shoved something into the fire and yelled, “Put it out! Put it out!”

  Carter smashed the torch into the ground, but this time the room didn’t go dark. Angelo held something that guttered brightly over his head. It took Nick a second to realize what Angelo was burning. It was a page from his monster notebook. “Dude, you can’t do that!” he yelled. “That means more to you than anything.”

  As the flames reached the bottom of the paper, Angelo tore another page from his notebook and dropped the smoldering remains of the first page. “If Carter can unravel his serape to help us, I can burn some of my notes,” he said. “Come on, let’s get out of here before I get to the Mayan section.”

  Stopping and starting with each new burning page, like a bizarre game of Red Light Green Light, they at last found a door. Nick grabbed the handle, and the door swung open with a metallic squeal. Gray light blinded them all.

  “We made it,” Nick said, stumbling forward. He blinked his eyes, trying to adjust to the sudden brightness.

  “Hang on,” Angelo said. “This could be another one of the tests.”

  “It doesn’t feel cold. What if it’s the blade room?” Carter asked.

  “Don’t get cut,” Nick said. It was the only advice he could think of.

  Slowly their surroundings came into focus. They seemed to be in a cavern of some kind. The ceiling was hidden in darkness and the ground was covered in leaves and twigs, all coated with a powdery white substance. The air was filled with the strong stink of ammonia.

  Nick shrugged. “Other than the smell, this isn’t too bad.”

  Angelo frowned. “That’s what I’m afraid of.” He knelt to the ground, touched the white powder, and sniffed his fingers. He dropped his hand with a jerk, stood, and looked up with an expression of alarm. “I think we’re in the bat room.”

  “The bathroom?” Carter laughed. “What’s so scary about a bathroom?”

  “Not bath,” Angelo said. “Bat. As in the killer kind.”

  From overhead came a pounding of wings. All at once, a huge black cloud raced down at them. “Get out of here!” Angelo yelled.

  With no idea where he was going, Nick broke into a sprint. Something sharp clawed at the back of his scalp, and he looked back to see thousands of bats diving toward him.

  “That way!” Angelo yelled, pointing toward a rock that curved over to form a small shelter under the bottom of it. The three boys dove under the rock, pushing handfuls of leaves and sticks into the opening to keep the bats from getting in.

  It was a tight squeeze, and Nick could feel sweat start to form on his head.

  “Well, that was interesting,” Carter said. “Honestly, it looked a lot cooler in the Batman movies.”

  “Tell me the Popol Vuh has something for this situation,” Nick said. With the three boys jammed side to side it was already getting hot and stuffy. He didn’t know how long they could stay here.

  Angelo coughed. “Actually, this room didn’t end up so well. Even for the second set of brothers who made it through. They hid for a while. But eventually one of them stuck out his head and the bats cut it off and took it to the lords of death. His brother replaced his head with a turtle until they could get the real one back.”

  “Please tell me you’re kidding,” Nick said.

  “Sorry,” Angelo muttered.

  Nick wiped a hand across his face. “Let’s think of something better than that.”

  “Hang on,” Carter said. “I have an idea.” He started squirming around, which was difficult for everyone.

  “Careful,” Angelo said. “You’re jabbing me in the ribs.”

  “Would you rather have a turtle for a head?” Carter continued to poke and move until Nick was about to go crazy. But at last he handed something to Nick. “What do you think?”

  In the almost complete darkness, Nick could see only what looked like a small basketball. It felt sharp and prickly.

  “I made it out of leaves and twigs,” Carter said.

  Nick appreciated the effort but wasn’t sure what they were going to do with a big ball of leaves. “It’s, um, nice.”

  “Don’t you get it?” Carter asked. “It’s a fake head. One of us pulls our shirt up over our head, holds the ball against his collar, and when the bats take the bait, we make a break for it.”

  “Sounds great,” Angelo said. “Until they realize it’s a fake and rip off the real thing.”

  Nick thought it through. He remembered reading something in science class about how bats didn’t have good eyesight. Instead they used sonar—or was it radar? “I’ll do it,” he said.

  “Are you sure?” Angelo rolled onto his side to face him. “There are a lot of bats out there with sharp teeth and claws.”

  “We can’t stay in here forever,” Nick said. “You guys have some serious body-odor issues. Besides, you burned pages from your monster notebook and Carter unraveled his serape. What’s my head compared to that?”

  He pulled his shirt up over his head, accidentally bopping Angelo in the eye.

  “Scream really loud when t
hey pull it off,” Carter said. “So they think it’s really your head.”

  “If they pulled off his head, he wouldn’t be able to scream,” Angelo said, and Nick could practically hear him rolling his eyes.

  Carter grunted. “They don’t know that.”

  Nick pushed the leaf ball against the top of his head and wormed his way out. For a moment, nothing happened, and he wondered whether the bats were still there. Maybe he could take a quick peek. Then something that felt more like an eagle than a bat ripped the ball from his grasp.

  “Are you still alive?” Carter asked.

  “I think so,” Nick said. Slowly, he peeked out from the top of his shirt. The bats were gone. “It worked!” he shouted, climbing out of the hole. Carter and Angelo quickly followed him.

  With the bats roosting back on the ceiling, it was easy to see the next door on the other side of the cavern. “Any idea what’s through there?” Nick asked.

  Angelo checked his notes. “Let’s see. Lords of death. Roads. Maybe I wrote something in the back of—”

  “Guys,” Carter interrupted. “I think we might have a problem.” He pointed toward the ceiling, where the bats were beginning to flutter around again. Suddenly a dark sphere dropped from the air and exploded on the ground. “I think they just figured out the head is a fake.”

  Like a great black glove, the bats flew from the ceiling and straight at the boys.

  “Run for the door!” Nick yelled.

  “Run for your lives!” Carter echoed.

  The cloud of bats was nearly on top of them as they reached the other side of the room. With no time to worry about what was on the other side, Nick yanked open the door and slammed it shut as soon as his friends were through.

  Trying to catch their breath, the three of them looked around. They were standing in a small, round room with a pit in the center. On the other side of the room was another door. But standing between them and the door was a powerful-looking black-spotted jaguar.

  The big cat stretched its limber body and bared a mouthful of razor-sharp teeth. “Welcome to the house of the jaguar.”

  All three boys stared silently at the green-eyed predator.

  “Cat got your tongue?” the jaguar asked, flashing what looked to Nick like a grin.

  Carter was the first to speak. “We hate to bother you. It’s just that, um, Nick’s mom turned into a, uh . . . And we need to, well . . .” He edged left, and the big cat moved to block him.

  “I know what you seek.” The jaguar swished its tail toward the door behind it. “It’s right through there. And I’ll be happy to let you pass. For a price.”

  Nick tried to swallow, but his throat was so dry, his Adam’s apple refused to move. “What price?”

  The jaguar lunged toward them, snarling when the boys fell back against the wall. “There are three of you, and only one of me. But I’m dreadfully hungry. I can’t remember the last good meal I’ve had. Let’s strike a bargain. Let me eat one of you, and I’ll let the other two through the door. Or refuse, and I’ll eat all of you.”

  Nick pressed against the back of the room, his hands slick with sweat on the wall. Even if they’d been armed, they might not have been able to kill the jaguar before it reached them. With no weapons they didn’t stand a chance.

  He glanced at Angelo, who looked as terrified as he was. There didn’t seem to be any way out of this.

  Carter rubbed his chin. “Let me make sure I understand. We feed you, and you let us go?”

  “That’s right,” the jaguar snarled. “But decide quickly or I’ll eat you all.”

  “I’ve already decided,” Carter said. “I’m the smallest of the three of us. So you don’t want me.”

  “What are you doing?” Nick whispered.

  The jaguar licked its chops. “Go on.”

  Carter moved back to his right. “And Nick is too bony. Which leaves only one choice. Something big, a little crunchy, and filling.”

  Angelo stared at Carter. “If this is about me making fun of your serape . . .”

  “An excellent choice,” the jaguar said. It bunched its haunches and prepared to leap.

  “No!” Nick cried.

  At the same second the cat jumped, Carter reached behind him and yanked open the door. Clouds of small black bats flew through the opening and into the jaguar’s mouth. The cat coughed, spat, and clawed, but the bats smothered it in a thick black cloud.

  “I’m fresh out of bones, but how about a thick, juicy bat sandwich!” Carter yelled, and the three of them ran across the room and out the last door.

  Nick clapped Carter on the back. “Dude, that was the coolest thing ever. I totally thought you were going to feed Angelo to the jaguar.”

  They were back in the maze again—their torches once more burning—but for the moment, Nick didn’t even care. He was just glad they hadn’t been eaten. “Didn’t you think so too, Angelo?” he asked. “You should have seen yourself.”

  Even though they had escaped the jaws of the cat, Angelo’s face was still drawn.

  “What’s wrong?” Nick asked.

  Angelo pointed ahead, through an archway Nick hadn’t noticed the first time, if, in fact, it had been there at all. On the other side of the arch, two figures stood on polished stone pedestals. “I’m pretty sure those are the lords of death.”

  The first figure was dressed all in black. A tight-fitting cloak covered him from head to foot. The front of the cloak appeared to be made of clawed pincers snapping open and shut across his chest. The bottom of his cloak moved around him with a life of its own, and Nick realized it was made of squirming black centipedes.

  His face was a bone-white skull, and Nick couldn’t tell whether it was a mask or not. The skull turned to the boys and spoke. “I am Hun-Came, One Death.”

  The second figure was clad only in a fur loincloth and a feathered mask. Bits of bone seemed to have been thrust through the flesh of his arms, legs, and chest. As Nick watched, he split into two figures, then three, four, five, six, and finally seven.

  Each of the seven figures wore a different mask—each made to look like a bloodthirsty beast. Each held a different weapon, ranging from swords to spears to long, curved knives and stone axes. The men all raised their weapons over their heads and spoke as one, “I am Vucub-Came, Seven Death. The living do not belong in Xibalba. Tell me why you trespass here before we make you one of our own.”

  Nick stepped up to the archway, legs trembling. “I’m, um, Nick Braithwaite.” He gave a little wave and felt dumb when the men only continued to stare at him. “The thing is, my mom got turned into this, uh, god.”

  “Awilix,” Angelo whispered.

  “Right, Awilix. Anyway, I need to find her and break the curse.”

  “You seek Awilix’s chamber?” One Death asked.

  Nick nodded. “Yeah, she’s my mom.”

  All the copies of Seven Death looked at one another and seemed to reach a conclusion. “You may enter.”

  Nick breathed a sigh of relief. He started forward with Carter and Angelo.

  “But,” One Death shouted, “know that you must first pass by the ten demons—paying a penance to each. Should you fail, you and your friends will be thrust from Xibalba forever.”

  Carter stepped forward. “Um, can I get some clarification on the second part? What exactly do you mean by ‘paying a penance’?”

  “The ten demons may torture you as they will. But they may not kill you.”

  “Okay,” Carter said. “Well, I guess that’s kind of good news.”

  Nick turned to his friends. “Look, I appreciate you guys coming this far. But I will totally understand if you want to wait here.”

  “I’ve been lost, attacked by bats, and nearly fed to a jaguar,” Carter said. “What’s a little torture compared to that?”

  Angelo stepped quickly forward and grabbed One Death’s hand. “It’s a deal.”

  The lord of death yanked his hand away in surprise. “Mortals may not touch the lord
s!” he shouted. Instantly, the figures disappeared and the three boys found themselves in a long passageway. Looking back, Nick could still see the maze beyond the arch, but it was slightly distorted, as though he were seeing it through a thick pane of glass.

  He started down the passage and noticed a pair of alcoves set in each side of the hallway. As he reached the openings, two winged creatures flew down from black onyx pedestals. They were, by far, the most disgusting creatures he’d ever seen. The one on the left looked like someone had been at it with a sanding machine. Open wounds covered its crusty red body and scaly wings. The one on the right was made of dripping, red-black goo.

  “We are the demons of sick blood,” the demons shouted in wet gurgling voices.

  Suddenly Nick felt as though his entire body was on fire. Pain racked his muscles and doubled him over.

  “Ahh!” Angelo screamed, clutching his stomach.

  “It hurts so bad,” Carter bellowed, his face bright red. “Make it stop.”

  Nick dropped to his knees. The pain was horrendous. “How . . . did . . . the brothers . . . ,” he gasped. He couldn’t say any more. It felt like he was going to faint.

  Angelo’s mouth dropped open and he clawed through the pages of his monster notebook. “You are Xiquiripat, the Flying Scab,” he called to the one on the left. “And you are Cuchumaquic, Gathered Blood.”

  Instantly the demons disappeared.

  Nick stood up slowly. The pain was gone, but he still felt like he’d just finished three rounds with a black belt. “How did you make them go away?” he finally managed to ask.

  “I named them,” Angelo said. “When you speak their names, they have no power over you.”

  Carter rubbed his stomach. “No offense, but next time how about you say the names a little quicker.”

  Nick agreed. He wasn’t sure he could make it through four more pairs of demons like this.

  At the next set of openings, two more demons flew down to meet him. The first was covered in weeping sores, and the other had a strange yellowish tint to its bulbous body.

  “We are they who cause mortals’ bodies to swell up,” the demons announced.