نفرین آرامگاه مومیایی فصل 20

Curse Of The Mummy’s Tomb - Chapter 20

It’s not a mummy, I told myself.

It can’t be.

It’s a bug. A very large bug. Moving across the coffin floor.

It’s not a mummy. It’s not a mummy.

The words repeated in my mind.

I didn’t have too long to think about it. Whatever it was crept closer.

“Hey!” a voice whispered.

Sari and I both shrieked.

“Where are you guys?”

We recognized the voice immediately.

“Uncle Ben!” I cried, swallowing hard, my heart pounding.

“Daddy!” Sari lunged over me to get to her father.

“But how?” I stammered. “How did you get in here?”

“Easy,” he replied, squeezing my shoulder reassuringly.

“Daddy—I don’t believe it!” Sari wailed. I couldn’t see in the blackness of the closed coffin, but I think she was crying.

“I’m okay. I’m okay,” he repeated several times, trying to calm her down.

“How did you get out of that case and into this one?” I asked, totally confused and amazed.

“There’s an escape hatch,” Uncle Ben explained. “A small opening with a doorway. The Egyptians built hidden doorways and escape hatches into many of their mummy cases. For the corpse’s soul to be able to leave.” “Wow,” I said. I didn’t know what to say.

“Ahmed is so caught up in his ancient curse mumbo jumbo, he’s forgotten about this little detail,” Uncle Ben said. I felt his hand on my shoulder again. “Come on, you two. Follow me.” “But he’s out there—” I started.

“No,” Uncle Ben replied quickly. “He’s slipped away. When I climbed out of my case, I looked for him. I didn’t see him anywhere. Maybe he went somewhere else while he’s waiting for the tar to get hot enough. Or maybe he decided to just leave us in the mummy cases to suffocate.” I felt a bug slither up my leg. I slapped at it, then tried to pull it out from inside the leg of my jeans.

“Out we go,” Uncle Ben said.

I heard him groan as he turned in the enormous coffin. Then I could hear him crawling to the back.

I saw a small rectangle of light as he pushed open the hidden door in the back of the case. It was a very small escape hatch, just big enough for us to squeeze through.

I followed Uncle Ben and Sari out of the case, flattening myself to crawl out the small opening, then dropping onto all fours on the chamber floor.

It took a while for my eyes to adjust to the brightness.

The red flames still danced over the pit of bubbling tar, casting eerie blue shadows on all four chamber walls. The mummies stood as before, frozen in place around the room, shadows flickering over their faceless forms.

As my eyes began to focus, I saw that Uncle Ben had an enormous, dark bruise on the side of his head. A wide ribbon of dried blood streaked down his cheek.

“Let’s get out of here before Ahmed comes back,” he whispered, standing between us, one hand on each of our shoulders.

Sari looked pale and trembly. Her lower lip was bleeding from her chewing on it so hard.

Uncle Ben started toward the rope ladder in the center of the chamber, but then stopped. “It’ll take too long,” he said, thinking out loud. “Come on. To the tunnel. Hurry.” All three of us started jogging toward the tunnel in the corner. Looking down, I saw that my stupid shoelace had come untied again. But there was no way I was going to stop to tie it!

We were about to get out of there!

A few seconds before, I had given up all hope. But now, here we were out of the mummy case and heading to freedom.

We were just a few yards in front of the tunnel entrance when the tunnel suddenly filled with orange light.

Then, from out of the tunnel, Ahmed emerged, holding a new torch in front of him, the flames revealing a startled look on his face.

“No!” Sari and I cried in unison.

All three of us skidded to a halt right in front of him.

“You cannot escape!” Ahmed said softly, quickly regaining his composure, his startled expression tightening to anger. “You will not escape!” He thrust the torch toward Uncle Ben, who was forced to fall backwards, out of reach of the hissing flames. He landed hard on his elbows and cried out in pain.

His cry brought a grim smile to Ahmed’s lips. “You have made Khala angry,” he announced, raising the torch above his head and reaching for the dagger sheathed at his waist. “You will not join the other violators of this chamber.” Whew. I breathed a sigh of relief.

Ahmed had changed his mind. He wasn’t going to turn us into mummies after all.

“The three of you will die in the tar pit,” he declared.

Sari and I exchanged horrified glances. Uncle Ben had climbed back to his feet and put his arms around us. “Ahmed, can’t we talk about this calmly and rationally as scientists?” he asked.

“To the tar pit,” Ahmed ordered, thrusting the flaming torch angrily at us.

“Ahmed—please!” Uncle Ben cried in a whining, frightened tone I’d never heard from him before.

Ahmed ignored Uncle Ben’s desperate pleas. Pushing the torch at our backs and gesturing with the long-bladed dagger, he forced us to make our way to the edge of the pit.

The tar was bubbling noisily now, making ugly popping and sucking sounds. The flames across the top were low and red.

I tried to pull back. It smelled so bad. And the steam coming off it was so hot, it made my face burn.

“One by one, you will jump,” Ahmed said.

He was standing a few feet behind us as we stared down into the bubbling tar. “If you don’t jump, I will be forced to push you.” “Ahmed—” Uncle Ben began. But Ahmed brushed the torch against Ben’s back.

“It has come to me,” Ahmed said solemnly. “The honor of carrying out Khala’s wishes.” The tar fumes were so overwhelming, I thought I was going to faint. The pit started to tilt in front of me. I felt very dizzy.

I shoved my hands into my jeans pockets, to steady myself, I guess. And my hand closed around something I had forgotten about.

The Summoner.

The mummy hand that I carry around everywhere.

I’m not sure why—I wasn’t thinking clearly, if at all—but I pulled out the little mummy hand.

I spun around quickly. And I held the mummy hand up high.

I can’t really explain what was going through my mind. I was so terrified, so overwhelmed with fear, that I was thinking a hundred things at once.

Maybe I thought the mummy hand would distract Ahmed.

Or interest him.

Or confuse him.

Or frighten him.

Maybe I was just stalling for time.

Or maybe I was unconsciously remembering the legend behind the hand that the kid at the garage sale had told me.

The legend of why it was called The Summoner.

How it was used to call up ancient souls and spirits.

Or maybe I wasn’t thinking anything at all.

But I spun around and, gripping it by its slender wrist, held the mummy hand up high. And waited. Ahmed stared at it. But nothing happened.