Curse of the Mummy's Tomb Page 2

  It was small, the size of a child’s hand. A little hand wrapped in papery brown gauze. I had bought it at a garage sale a few years ago, and I always carried it around as a good-luck charm.

  The kid who sold it to me called it The Summoner. He said it was used to summon evil spirits or something. I didn’t care about that. I just thought it was an outstanding bargain for two dollars. I mean, what a great thing to find at a garage sale! And maybe it was even real.

  I tossed it from hand to hand as I paced the length of the living room. The TV was starting to make me nervous, so I clicked it off.

  But now the quiet was making me nervous.

  I slapped the mummy hand against my palm and kept pacing.

  Where were they? They should’ve been here by now.

  I was beginning to think that I’d made the wrong choice. Maybe I should’ve gone to Alexandria with Mom and Dad.

  Then I heard a noise at the door. Footsteps.

  Was it them?

  I stopped in the middle of the living room and listened, staring past the narrow front hallway to the door.

  The light was dim in the hallway, but I saw the doorknob turn.

  That’s strange, I thought. Uncle Ben would knock first — wouldn’t he?

  The doorknob turned. The door started to creak open.

  “Hey —” I called out, but the word choked in my throat.

  Uncle Ben would knock. He wouldn’t just barge in.

  Slowly, slowly, the door squeaked open as I stared, frozen in the middle of the room, unable to call out.

  Standing in the doorway was a tall, shadowy figure.

  I gasped as the figure lurched into the room, and I saw it clearly. Even in the dim light, I could see what it was.

  A mummy.

  Glaring at me with round dark eyes through holes in its ancient thick bandages.

  A mummy.

  Pushing itself off the wall and staggering stiffly toward me into the living room, its arms outstretched as if to grab me.

  I opened my mouth to scream, but no sound came out.

  3

  I took a step back, and then another. Without realizing it, I’d raised my little mummy hand in the air, as if trying to fend off the intruder with it.

  As the mummy staggered into the light, I stared into its deep, dark eyes.

  And recognized them.

  “Uncle Ben!” I screamed.

  Angrily, I heaved the mummy hand at him. It hit his bandaged chest and bounced off.

  He collapsed backwards against the wall, laughing that booming laugh of his.

  And then I saw Sari poking her head in the doorway. She was laughing, too.

  They both thought it was hilarious. But my heart was pounding so hard, I thought it was going to pop out of my chest.

  “That wasn’t funny!” I shouted angrily, balling my hands into fists at my sides. I took a deep breath, then another, trying to get my breathing to return to normal.

  “I told you he’d be scared,” Sari said, walking into the room, a big superior grin on her face.

  Uncle Ben was laughing so hard, he had tears running down his bandaged face. He was a big man, tall and broad, and his laughter shook the room. “You weren’t that scared — were you, Gabe?”

  “I knew it was you,” I said, my heart still pounding as if it were a windup toy someone had wound up too tight. “I recognized you right away.”

  “You sure looked scared,” Sari insisted.

  “I didn’t want to spoil the joke,” I replied, wondering if they could see how terrified I really was.

  “You should’ve seen the look on your face!” Uncle Ben cried, and started laughing all over again.

  “I told Daddy he shouldn’t do it,” Sari said, dropping down onto the couch. “I’m amazed the hotel people let him come up dressed like that.”

  Uncle Ben bent down and picked up the mummy hand I had tossed at him. “You’re used to me and my practical jokes, right, Gabe?”

  “Yeah,” I said, avoiding his eyes.

  Secretly, I scolded myself for falling for his stupid costume. I was always falling for his dumb jokes. Always. And now there was Sari grinning at me from the couch, knowing I was so scared that I’d practically had a cow.

  Uncle Ben pulled some of the bandages away from his face. He stepped over and handed the little mummy hand back to me. “Where’d you get that?” he asked.

  “Garage sale,” I told him.

  I started to ask him if it was real, but he surrounded me in a big bear hug. The gauze felt rough against my cheek. “Good to see you, Gabe,” he said softly. “You’ve grown taller.”

  “Almost as tall as me,” Sari chimed in.

  Uncle Ben motioned to her. “Get up and help me pull this stuff off.”

  “I kind of like the way you look in it,” Sari said.

  “Get over here,” Uncle Ben insisted.

  Sari got up with a sigh, tossing her straight black hair behind her shoulders. She walked over to her dad and started unraveling the bandages.

  “I got a little carried away with this mummy thing, Gabe,” Uncle Ben admitted, resting his arm on my shoulder as Sari continued working. “But it’s just because I’m so excited about what’s going on at the pyramid.”

  “What’s going on?” I asked eagerly.

  “Daddy’s discovered a whole new burial chamber,” Sari broke in before her dad had a chance to tell me himself. “He’s exploring parts of the pyramid that have been undiscovered for thousands of years.”

  “Really?” I cried. “That’s outstanding!”

  Uncle Ben chuckled. “Wait till you see it.”

  “See it?” I wasn’t sure what he meant. “You mean you’re going to take me into the pyramid?”

  My voice was so high that only dogs could hear it. But I didn’t care. I couldn’t believe my good luck. I was actually going inside the Great Pyramid, into a section that hadn’t been discovered until now.

  “I have no choice,” Uncle Ben said dryly. “What else am I going to do with you two?”

  “Are there mummies in there?” I asked. “Will we see actual mummies?”

  “Do you miss your mummy?” Sari said, her lame idea of a joke.

  I ignored her. “Is there treasure down there, Uncle Ben? Egyptian relics? Are there wall paintings?”

  “Let’s talk about it at dinner,” he said, tugging off the last of the bandages. He was wearing a plaid sport shirt and baggy chinos under all the gauze. “Come on. I’m starving.”

  “Race you downstairs,” Sari said, and shoved me out of the way to give herself a good head start out of the room.

  We ate downstairs in the hotel restaurant. There were palm trees painted on the walls and miniature palm trees planted in big pots all around the restaurant. Large wooden ceiling fans whirled slowly overhead.

  The three of us sat in a large booth, Sari and I across from Uncle Ben. We studied the long menus. They were printed in Arabic and English.

  “Listen to this, Gabe,” Sari said, a smug smile on her face. She began to read the Arabic words aloud.

  What a show-off.

  The white-suited waiter brought a basket of flat pita bread and a bowl of green stuff to dip the bread in. I ordered a club sandwich and French fries. Sari ordered a hamburger.

  Later, as we ate our dinner, Uncle Ben explained a little more about what he had discovered at the pyramid. “As you probably know,” he started, tearing off a chunk of the flat bread, “the pyramid was built some time around 2500 B.C., during the reign of the pharaoh Khufu.”

  “Gesundheit,” Sari said. Another lame joke.

  Her father chuckled. I made a face at her.

  “It was the biggest structure of its time,” Uncle Ben said. “Do you know how wide the base of the pyramid is?”

  Sari shook her head. “No. How wide?” she asked with a mouthful of hamburger.

  “I know,” I said, grinning. “It’s thirteen acres wide.”

  “Hey — that’s right!” Uncle
Ben exclaimed, obviously impressed.

  Sari flashed me a surprised look.

  That’s one for me! I thought happily, sticking my tongue out at her.

  And one for my dad’s guidebooks.

  “The pyramid was built as a royal burial place,” Uncle Ben continued, his expression turning serious. “The pharaoh made it really enormous so that the burial chamber could be hidden. The Egyptians worried about tomb robbers. They knew that people would try to break in and take all of the valuable jewels and treasures that were buried alongside their owners. So they built dozens of tunnels and chambers inside, a confusing maze to keep robbers from finding the real burial room.”

  “Pass the ketchup, please,” Sari interrupted. I passed her the ketchup.

  “Sari’s heard all this before,” Uncle Ben said, dipping the pita bread into the dark gravy on his plate. “Anyway, we archaeologists thought we’d uncovered all of the tunnels and rooms inside this pyramid. But a few days ago, my workers and I discovered a tunnel that isn’t on any of the charts. An unexplored, undiscovered tunnel. And we think this tunnel may lead us to the actual burial chamber of Khufu himself!”

  “Outstanding!” I exclaimed. “And Sari and I will be there when you discover it?”

  Uncle Ben chuckled. “I don’t know about that, Gabe. It may take us years of careful exploration. But I’ll take you down into the tunnel tomorrow. Then you can tell your friends you were actually inside the ancient pyramid of Khufu.”

  “I’ve already been in it,” Sari bragged. She turned her eyes to me. “It’s very dark. You might get scared.”

  “No, I won’t,” I insisted. “No way.”

  The three of us spent the night in my parents’ hotel suite. It took me hours to get to sleep. I guess I was excited about going into the pyramid. I kept imagining that we found mummies and big chests of ancient jewels and treasure.

  Uncle Ben woke us up early the next morning, and we drove to the pyramids outside al-Jizah. The air was already hot and sticky. The sun seemed to hang low over the desert like an orange balloon.

  “There it is!” Sari declared, pointing out the window. And I saw the Great Pyramid rising up from the yellow sand like some kind of mirage.

  Uncle Ben showed a special permit to the blue-uniformed guard, and we followed a narrow private road that curved through the sand behind the pyramid. We parked beside several other cars and vans in the blue-gray shadow of the pyramid.

  As I stepped out of the car, my chest was thudding with excitement. I stared up at the enormous worn stones of the Great Pyramid.

  It’s over four thousand years old, I thought. I’m about to go inside something that was built four thousand years ago!

  “Your sneaker’s untied,” Sari said, pointing.

  She sure knew how to bring a guy back down to earth.

  I bent in the sand to tie my sneaker. For some reason, the left one was always coming untied, even when I double-knotted it.

  “My workers are already inside,” Uncle Ben told us. “Now, stick close together, okay? Don’t wander off. The tunnels really are like a maze. It’s very easy to get lost.”

  “No problem,” I said, my trembling voice revealing how nervous and excited I was.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll keep an eye on Gabe, Dad,” Sari said.

  She was only two months older than me. Why did she have to act like she was my babysitter or something?

  Uncle Ben handed us both flashlights. “Clip them onto your jeans as we go in,” he instructed. He gazed at me. “You don’t believe in curses, do you? You know — the ancient Egyptian kind.”

  I didn’t know how to reply, so I shook my head.

  “Good,” Uncle Ben replied, grinning. “Because one of my workers claims we’ve violated an ancient decree by entering this new tunnel, and that we’ve activated some curse.”

  “We’re not scared,” Sari said, giving him a playful shove toward the entrance. “Get going, Dad.”

  And seconds later, we were stepping into the small square opening cut into the stone. Stooping low, I followed them through a narrow tunnel that seemed to slope gradually down.

  Uncle Ben led the way, lighting the ground with a bright halogen flashlight. The pyramid floor was soft and sandy. The air was cool and damp.

  “The walls are granite,” Uncle Ben said, stopping to rub a hand along the low ceiling. “All of the tunnels were made of limestone.”

  The temperature dropped suddenly. The air felt even wetter. I suddenly realized why Uncle Ben had made us wear our sweatshirts.

  “If you’re scared, we can go back,” Sari said.

  “I’m fine,” I replied quickly.

  The tunnel ended abruptly. A pale yellow wall rose up in front of us. Ben’s flashlight darted over a small dark hole in the floor.

  “Down we go,” Ben said, groaning as he dropped to his knees. He turned back to me. “Afraid there are no stairs down to the new tunnel. My workers installed a rope ladder. Just take your time on it, take it slowly, one rung at a time, and you’ll be fine.”

  “No problem,” I said. But my voice cracked.

  “Don’t look down,” Sari advised. “It might make you dizzy and you’ll fall.”

  “Thanks for the encouragement,” I told her. I pushed my way past her. “I’ll go down first,” I said. I was already tired of her acting so superior. I decided to show her who was brave and who wasn’t.

  “No. Let me go first,” Uncle Ben said, raising a hand to stop me. “Then I’ll shine the light up at the ladder and help you down.”

  With another groan, he maneuvered himself into the hole. He was so big, he nearly didn’t fit.

  Slowly, he began to lower himself down the rope ladder.

  Sari and I leaned over the hole and peered down, watching him descend. The rope ladder wasn’t very steady. It swung back and forth under his weight as he slowly, carefully, made his way down.

  “It’s a long way down,” I said softly.

  Sari didn’t reply. In the shadowy light, I could see her worried expression. She was chewing on her lower lip as her dad reached the tunnel floor.

  She was nervous, too.

  That cheered me up a lot.

  “Okay, I’m down. You’re next, Gabe,” Uncle Ben called up to me.

  I turned and swung my feet onto the rope ladder. I grinned at Sari. “See ya.”

  I lowered my hands to the sides of the rope ladder — and as I slid them down, I cried out.

  “Ow!”

  The rope wasn’t smooth. It was coarse. It cut my hands.

  The sharp stab of pain made me lift my hands.

  And before I even realized what was happening, I started to fall.

  4

  Two hands reached down for mine. They shot through the air and grabbed my wrists.

  “Hold on!” Sari cried.

  She had slowed my fall just enough to allow me to grab back onto the sides of the rope ladder.

  “Oh, wow!” I managed to utter. That was the best I could do. I gripped the rope for dear life, waiting for my heart to stop pounding. I closed my eyes and didn’t move. I squeezed the ropes so hard, my hands ached.

  “Saved your life,” Sari called down to me, leaning into the opening, her face inches from mine.

  I opened my eyes and stared up at her. “Thanks,” I said gratefully.

  “No problem,” she replied, and burst out laughing, laughing from relief, I guess.

  Why couldn’t I save her life? I asked myself angrily. Why can’t I ever be the big hero?

  “What happened, Gabe?” Uncle Ben called from the tunnel floor below. His booming voice echoed loudly through the chamber. The wide circle of light from his flashlight danced across the granite wall.

  “The rope cut my hands,” I explained. “I wasn’t expecting —”

  “Just take your time,” he said patiently. “One rung at a time, remember?”

  “Lower your hands. Don’t slide them,” Sari advised, her face poking through the hole above me.


  “Okay, okay,” I said, starting to breathe normally.

  I took a deep breath and held it. Then, slowly, carefully, I made my way down the long rope ladder.

  A short while later, all three of us were standing on the tunnel floor, holding our lighted flashlights, our eyes following the circles of light. “This way,” Uncle Ben said quietly, and he headed off to the right, walking slowly, stooping because of the low ceiling.

  Our sneakers crunched on the sandy floor. I saw another tunnel leading off to the right, then another tunnel on the left.

  “We’re breathing air that is four thousand years old,” Ben said, keeping his light aimed on the floor ahead of him.

  “Smells like it,” I whispered to Sari. She laughed.

  The air really did smell old. Kind of heavy and musty. Like someone’s attic.

  The tunnel widened a little as it curved to the right.

  “We’re going deeper into the earth,” Ben said. “Does it feel like you’re going downhill?”

  Sari and I both muttered that it did.

  “Dad and I explored one of the side tunnels yesterday,” Sari told me. “We found a mummy case inside a tiny room. A beautiful one in perfect condition.”

  “Was there a mummy inside it?” I asked eagerly. I was dying to see a mummy. The museum back home had only one. I’d stared at it and studied it all my life.

  “No. It was empty,” Sari replied.

  “Why didn’t the mummy have any hobbies?” Uncle Ben asked, stopping suddenly.

  “I don’t know,” I answered.

  “He was too wrapped up in his work!” Uncle Ben exclaimed. He laughed at his own joke. Sari and I could only muster weak smiles.

  “Don’t encourage him,” Sari told me, loud enough for her dad to hear. “He knows a million mummy jokes, and they’re all just as bad.”

  “Wait up. Just a sec,” I said. I bent down to tie my sneaker, which had come undone again.

  The tunnel curved, then divided into two tunnels. Uncle Ben led us through the one on the left, which was so narrow we had to squeeze through it, making our way sideways, heads bent, until it widened into a large high-ceilinged chamber.

  I stood up straight and stretched. It felt so good not to be scrunched down. I stared around the large room.