Heir of Ra (Blood of Ra Book One)

by M. Sasinowski

  As the vehicle approached the dig site, he turned off the engine and dimmed the lights. Silently, the Land Rover drifted to a stop a hundred meters from the site. Kamal scrutinized the two parked sedans outside the tent.

  Where are the security guards?

  He remained seated for another minute, staring at the cars, looking for signs of any movement.

  He opened the door and took a deep breath, letting the cold desert night air fill his lungs. Kamal regarded the towering statue in the distance. With the body of a lion and the face of a man, the eyes of the Great Sphinx cast an enigmatic gaze over the moonlit plateau before him.

  He lifted the tank from the floorboard and strapped it to his back then grabbed the helmet and set off across the soft desert sand to the large tent. He drew near the entrance, ears on alert for any sound, and cautiously lifted the flap. The interior was completely empty. Most of the floor of the fifty foot wide tent was excavated, revealing a thirty foot deep pit with a ramp zigzagging down its side. He focused on the tall stone door on the far side of the pit. The door was completely enclosed by a small chamber, separated from the outside by transparent plastic, accessible only through a set of sealed double doors. He glanced around and swallowed before walking down the ramp.

  He reached the plastic enclosure and studied the biocontainment bubble and the access mechanism of the double doors. He took his last breath of fresh air, opened the oxygen valve on the tank and secured the helmet on his head. As the suit began to inflate, he focused on the small heads-up display in the helmet. The cursor of the optical interface followed his eye movements to the Status Check box on the small display.

  “And what the hell do you think you’re doing here?” Kamal jumped at the voice behind him. He spun. The man standing at the top of the pit stared down at him from behind a lazily raised revolver. “This site is quarantined. Get up here. Now.”

  Kamal’s mind raced as he slowly moved toward the ramp, watching the man above him.

  “That’s good.” The other man’s patronizing voice rang with an American accent. He watched Kamal walk up the ramp and ran a hand nervously through his gray hair. “Nice and slow.”

  “Who are you?” the man asked brusquely when Kamal reached the top.

  “I am Dr. Kamal Khanna of the Genetics Institute,” he replied, his voice flat.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Kamal remained silent as he moved his eyes toward the small heads-up display in his helmet and blinked, activating the cursor.

  The man stalked closer. “I asked you a question.”

  Kamal slowly moved his eyes, the cursor on the display trailing his pupils toward the box marked Headlamp.

  “Don’t make me ask again.” He pointed the revolver at Kamal’s head.

  Kamal blinked and the Xenon headlamp came to life, its brilliant twin beams focused directly into the man’s eyes. He screamed and brought up his hand to shield himself from the sudden glare.

  Kamal rushed him, reaching for the revolver. The suit slowed his movements, and he barely managed to lock his grip around the barrel. His breathing quickened as he felt his gloved hand slip and slowly lose grip. The man stared at him with a triumphant expression.

  In a final effort, Kamal twisted his body rapidly, his hand still clutching the revolver. The man refused to let go of the gun for a split second too long, causing him to stumble into Kamal.

  The heavy tank on Kamal’s back drove hard into the other man’s side as Kamal continued turning, flinging the man to the edge of the pit. The man’s face froze as he stared at Kamal, teetering at the edge of the pit, his hands grasping at an invisible hold, an instant before he plunged backward with a scream.

  Kamal rushed to the side of the pit and looked down. The man lay at the bottom, his body twisted at a grotesque angle.

  He rushed down and crouched next to the body. Kamal removed one of his gloves and, already knowing the answer, pressed his fingers against the man’s neck.

  He checked the man’s pockets and pulled out a wallet. He flipped it open. Grayson Baxter. Kamal sighed before he brought his fingers to the dead man’s eyelids and closed them slowly.

  He reattached his glove to the suit and started the checklist procedure. As the suit inflated, he stood up and lumbered to the isolation bubble then released the seal on the first door and stepped through it. A few moments later, a green light appeared above the second door and he opened it, entering the bubble.

  His heart beat furiously against his chest as he crouched and crawled through the opening in the stone door. He stood up on the other side, peering into the tunnel ahead of him.

  Trying to steady his breathing, he took a step into the darkness.

  28 The Hall of Records

  Alyssa’s skin tingled, the anticipation flowing through her like electrical sparks on the way to the ground, prickling her toes with each shuffling step. They slowly advanced through the corridor, brilliant white light illuminating the smooth surfaces. She studied the walls and ceiling, seeking out the source of the glow. It was as though the stone panels themselves were lit up.

  “The corridor leads to a large chamber just ahead,” she said, unaware that she was whispering.

  Alyssa peered around the corner and gasped. A vast subterranean hall opened before her. Inside it was an enormous stone pyramid, more than two hundred feet wide on each side, its base covered by an eerie fog. Alyssa recalled Horus’s memories. Three hundred and forty-three stairs led to the top of the structure, brought to Egypt stone by stone from his home island.

  She turned to Drake, struggling to ignore his triumphant stare. “Horus’s sarcophagus lies on the summit. That’s where Horemheb sealed him into his final resting place.” Her voice trailed off as she recalled Horus’s last memories.

  They ascended the pyramid wordlessly. When they reached the top, they gathered reverently around the rectangular stone tomb.

  Drake pointed at the sarcophagus, his eyes glinting in the dim light of the cavern.

  “Open it,” he said, unable to contain the tremor in his voice.

  Alyssa, Paul and Tasha stepped forward. Alyssa clenched her teeth, ignoring the protest from her wound as she pushed on the heavy stone plate covering the sarcophagus. She heard Paul groan beside her, straining to move the lid using his one good arm.

  The lid inched aside with a harsh grating sound, slowly revealing the interior of the sarcophagus, before it fell to the floor with a loud thud that reverberated through the vast cavern.

  Alyssa looked into the sarcophagus. Surprise and confusion registered first, and then a tired smile appeared on her face.

  She chuckled quietly, shaking her head. Drake stared at her, bewildered. She was laughing out loud when he pushed her out of the way and leaned over the sarcophagus.

  William Drake began to cackle. Slowly the cackle crescendoed—not into a laugh of joy or elation, but the shrill howl of a quivering madman. Seconds later, his scream echoed through the vast cavern.

  Renley looked inside the sarcophagus. “Oh, for goodness sake,” he said and turned away.

  “Where is he?” Drake roared at Alyssa.

  His gaze was like a lit fuse, scorching the air between them. With a snarl, he pulled out his Kel-Tec. “What have you done with him?” he thundered, his face contorting into a grimace. He pointed the gun at her. “Tell me, or you will die where you stand.”

  Alyssa shook her head. “It’s over,” she said, her voice steady.

  Drake grunted when Paul slammed into him from the side, the impact knocking the weapon out of his hand. They both crashed to the ground heavily. Fury flashed through Drake’s eyes. He drove his fist into Paul’s injured arm.

  Paul howled in agony. Drake gained his feet and pulled a knife from his boot. He stalked toward Paul.

  Alyssa lunged at him, trying to grab the arm holding the knife.

  Drake lifted his arm, and the blade cut through her glove and palm, slicing deep into her flesh. She screamed, and light trembled be
hind her eyelids at the searing pain. She barely noticed Tasha diving for the Kel-Tec on the floor as Drake lunged at her, the blade raised, ready to plunge into her body.

  “No!” Her ears registered the desperate cry an instant before Paul leaped at her, putting himself in the path of the knife. Paul’s face contorted as the blade buried deep into his side. Drake howled in frustration, a menacing look fixed on Alyssa.

  “Shoot her!” he screamed at Tasha. “Finish her now!”

  Tasha raised the Kel-Tec. She hesitated and turned to Renley then back to Drake.

  “No,” she said softly, lowering the weapon.

  Alyssa jumped at the sound of a shot. Tasha grimaced and looked down. Confusion rippled through her face as she took in the growing stain forming on her chest, the crimson color at odds with the bright white of the biosuit. She lifted her head, glassy eyes straining to focus—then she saw Kamal, standing at the edge of the platform, holding Baxter’s revolver in his outstretched hand.

  “Tasha!” Renley’s face caved. He reached for her as she crumpled to the floor. “Dear God, no…” He pressed his trembling palm against the dark red spot on her suit, desperately trying to slow the bleeding.

  Alyssa gasped as Drake grabbed her and brought the knife to her neck, backing toward the empty sarcophagus.

  “Drop the gun!” he screamed at Kamal.

  Kamal froze. He slowly bent down and placed the revolver on the floor. He lifted his arms. “Let her go…” he said.

  “Kick it over to me,” Drake spat.

  Kamal hesitated.

  “Do it!”

  Kamal kicked the gun toward him. Drake shoved Alyssa hard toward the sarcophagus and lunged for the weapon.

  Alyssa saw the edge of the stone sarcophagus an instant before her visor struck it, shattering the fragile glass. She heard the rush of the clean air escaping her suit. Dread flooded her mind and whiteness washed across her vision as the scent of the ancient air filled her nostrils.

  She groaned and put her hands on the ledge of the sarcophagus. She slowly dragged herself to her feet, breathing heavily. Her right hand left a bloody imprint on the stone, the blood forming a thin trail as it streamed inside the sarcophagus.

  William Drake raised the revolver, backing up to keep Kamal and Renley in his view.

  “Killing you won’t make up for the disappointment,” Drake spat. He pointed the weapon at Alyssa and cocked the hammer. “But it’s a start.”

  Yuri silenced the beeping of the alarm on the DNA amplifier and carefully removed the sample. He shuffled to the biosafety hood and inserted the sample through the sliding door. He put his arms inside the long gloves secured to the glass enclosure and used a pipette to collect a tiny amount of the virus. He held his breath as he meticulously introduced the virus into the DNA sample then inserted the container into the sequencer and focused on the monitor.

  He zoomed in on the fragmented gene sequences and the virus particles. For several long seconds nothing happened. He shrugged.

  Waste of time, just as I thought.

  He leaned in closer as a virus capsule attached to a region of the DNA strand.

  What in the world?

  Yuri stared at the capsule traveling down the strand, repairing the sequence as it traveled along the gene. Then a second virus capsule moved into another spot on the DNA strand and repeated the process. He zoomed out and staggered back, staring open-mouthed as the virus particles swarmed the DNA strands and began reconstructing the fragmented pieces of Alyssa’s genes.

  Alyssa glared at Drake through the shattered visor of her helmet. She tasted the stale air, its bitter scent filling her mouth and lungs. Her body began to throb as Thoth’s weapon surged into every cell of her body.

  Behind her, the thin trail of her blood reached the bottom of the sarcophagus, forming a small pool on the polished interior of the tomb, before vanishing completely into the stone—soaked up without a trace by the smooth surface of the sarcophagus.

  The first thing Alyssa noticed was the pounding of her heart in her temples. Next came the wave of heat that surged through her marrow, rippling from the top of her head to the tips of every finger and toe, plunging into the pyramid beneath her feet. Time seemed to slow as her panic subsided and in its place something else stirred.

  Rage.

  All the air inside the cavern seemed to rush into her body. For an unimaginably long second, there was nothing but silence, as if time itself had stopped. Then everything erupted.

  A blaze of light exploded behind her, like a star coming alive. Blinding rays washed over her, and a brilliant beam burst out of the tomb up to the ceiling, bathing the vast cavern in a dazzling glow.

  William Drake stared at Alyssa, gasping, unable to move.

  Alyssa’s body filled with electricity, her blood on fire, each breath fueling the blaze inside her. She ripped the helmet from her head. Her hair stirred in the electric current streaming through the air.

  Her chest heaving, she stalked toward Drake, the brilliant glow behind her creating a halo around her.

  She gripped her helmet tight and raised it. Her voice rang out, echoing through the vast hall.

  “I am Alyssa Sarah Morgan!”

  She swung the helmet at Drake’s head, shattering his visor. He heaved as his suit deflated, and the outside air entered his lungs. His eyes bulged as the deadly virus raged through his body. He staggered, finally able to move, and stumbled backward, gasping for breath.

  “Daughter of Kaden and Anja!”

  She brought the helmet across his face again. He screamed, crumbling to his knees, trails of blood flowing down his cheeks from his bulging eyes. He gaped at the specter before him through a crimson haze.

  “I shall know no fear!”

  Alyssa swung the helmet up, snapping Drake’s head back and driving him backward over the edge of the pyramid. William Drake’s body bounced on the steep slope, tumbling down the pyramid and crashing lifelessly onto the mist-covered ground.

  For a brief moment time stood still. Gradually, the glow dissipated. Alyssa sank to the ground, her heart racing and body trembling. Her body began shaking uncontrollably, cold sweat trickling down her back as the rush of her body’s defenses against the storm ran its course. Finally, the trembling subsided. She groaned and sluggishly pushed herself up to her knees. Her shoulders slumped, and she stared at her hands, oblivious to the blood streaking from her wound.

  She lifted her head and found Kamal’s eyes. She fixed a glassy stare on him. “Horus—he’s gone. The cure for my dad and the others…” she shook her head, her rich dark hair waving in the air.

  “I’m so sorry…” she said, unable to finish.

  Kamal stared at her wordlessly, his gaze locked onto hers. Slowly, he sank to his knees, eyes glistening with tears. His voice trembled as he whispered breathlessly,

  “The cure… It is in your blood… Daughter of Ra.”

  29 Kasir El Aini Hospital

  The Minister of Antiquities stood on a makeshift platform erected in front of the lavish water fountain. He appraised the large crowd gathered before him in the atrium of the hospital then faced the cameras once again with a well-practiced smile before continuing his speech.

  “And so, today marks a historic day in the annals of Egyptian archaeology, as well as in the fields of genetics and medicine. With the help of myself, along with Egypt’s world class scientists and doctors, we have devised a successful cure for the mysterious illness that befell Dr. Morgan and his team last week—”

  Alyssa stood at the tall window, her gaze sweeping over the buildings toward the wind-brushed desert. She tuned out the minister’s voice streaming from the TV as she allowed the warmth of the sun to spread across her body like a soft blanket, savoring the rays flooding into the hospital room.

  She heard her dad groan before he switched off the TV and threw the remote onto the nightstand.

  “Ah! I knew that smug sonufabitch would take all the credit.”

  Alyssa tur
ned and smirked. She pushed up the sleeves of her freshly washed and patched up Willis and Geiger. “Glad to see you’re feeling better… Dad.”

  Kade Morgan stretched lazily and laced his fingers behind his head. “Never better,” he said, blinking, his Southern drawl giving his hard voice a softer edge. “Thanks to you, kiddo. And how are you feeling?”

  “A bit tired,” she replied.

  “Says the living descendent of Ra?” Paul’s voice greeted her from the door as he gingerly limped into the room, arm in a sling, Kamal trailing behind him.

  Alyssa’s cheeks dimpled and her lips skewed into a smile before it turned into a full-faced beam. She rushed to Paul and threw her arms around him.

  “Ow! Easy there!” he said, only half-exaggerating his distress. He pointed at his arm, “Gunshot…” then his side, “knife wound… still recovering.” He gave a sheepish smile. “Not all of us have divine blood coursing through our feeble, mortal veins, you know.”

  Alyssa cringed. “Sorry!” She gave a shallow sigh. “Bill Nye never prepared me for this. And I thought he really cared.” She turned to Kamal before Paul could muster a reply.

  “I’m sorry for ever doubting you.” She hugged him. “Thank you for everything you have done.”

  Kamal looked at her, a flicker of embarrassment crossing his eyes. “It was nothing.”

  “Nothing?” Kade’s voice rang from the bed. “If it hadn’t been for the brainiacs at your institute working day and night to isolate the genes from Alyssa’s blood, we would have never devised the gene therapy and vaccines in time to stop the Horus epidemic.”

  Alyssa’s smile wilted. “I don’t like that name,” she said.

  “Call it by any name you choose, Ally,” her father replied. “We haven’t been that close to a major epidemic in decades. What you and Paul did may have saved millions of lives.”

  Kamal nodded. “It is clear that the immunity comes from your mother’s side. Have you reconsidered the ministry’s request for consent to sequence your genome?”