Curse of the Mummy's Tomb

by R. L. Stine

  Several people came into view at the far wall, working with digging tools. Bright spotlights, attached to a portable generator, had been hung above them on the wall.

  Uncle Ben brought us over to them and introduced us. There were four workers, two men and two women.

  Another man stood off to the side, a clipboard in his hand. He was an Egyptian, dressed all in white except for a red bandanna around his neck. He had a mustache and straight black hair, slicked down and tied in a ponytail behind his head. He stared at Sari and me but didn’t come over. He seemed to be studying us.

  “Ahmed, you met my daughter yesterday. This is Gabe, my nephew,” Uncle Ben called to him.

  Ahmed nodded but didn’t smile or say anything.

  “Ahmed is from the university,” Uncle Ben explained to me in a low voice. “He requested permission to observe us, and I said okay. He’s very quiet. But don’t get him started on ancient curses. He’s the one who keeps warning me that I’m in deadly danger.”

  Ahmed nodded but didn’t reply. He stared at me for a long while.

  Weird guy, I thought.

  I wondered if he’d tell me about the ancient curses. I loved stories about ancient curses.

  Uncle Ben turned to his workers. “So? Any progress today?” he asked.

  “We think we’re getting real close,” a young red-haired man wearing faded jeans and a blue denim work shirt replied. And then he added, “Just a hunch.”

  Ben frowned. “Thanks, Quasimodo,” he said.

  The workers all laughed. I guess they liked Uncle Ben’s jokes.

  “Quasimodo was the Hunchback of Notre Dame,” Sari explained to me in her superior tone.

  “I know, I know,” I replied irritably. “I get it.”

  “We could be heading in the wrong direction altogether,” Uncle Ben told the workers, scratching the bald spot on the back of his head. “The tunnel might be over there.” He pointed to the wall on the right.

  “No, I think we’re getting warm, Ben,” a young woman, her face smudged with dust, said. “Come over here. I want to show you something.”

  She led him over to a large pile of stones and debris. He shined his light where she was pointing. Then he leaned closer to examine what she was showing him.

  “That’s very interesting, Christy,” Uncle Ben said, rubbing his chin. They fell into a long discussion.

  After a while, three other workers entered the chamber, carrying shovels and picks. One of them was carrying some kind of electronic equipment in a flat metal case. It looked a little like a laptop computer.

  I wanted to ask Uncle Ben what it was, but he was still in the corner, involved in his discussion with the worker named Christy.

  Sari and I wandered back toward the tunnel entrance. “I think he’s forgotten about us,” Sari said sullenly.

  I agreed, shining my flashlight up at the high cracked ceiling.

  “Once he gets down here with the workers, he forgets everything but his work,” she said, sighing.

  “I can’t believe we’re actually inside a pyramid!” I exclaimed.

  Sari laughed. She kicked at the floor with one sneaker. “Look — ancient dirt,” she said.

  “Yeah.” I kicked up some of the sandy dirt, too. “I wonder who walked here last. Maybe an Egyptian priestess. Maybe a pharaoh. They might have stood right here on this spot.”

  “Let’s go exploring,” Sari said suddenly.

  “Huh?”

  Her dark eyes gleamed, and she had a really devilish look on her face. “Let’s go, Gabey — let’s check out some tunnels or something.”

  “Don’t call me Gabey,” I said. “Come on, Sari, you know I hate that.” “Sorry,” she apologized, giggling. “You coming?”

  “We can’t,” I insisted, watching Uncle Ben. He was having some kind of argument with the worker carrying the thing that looked like a laptop. “Your dad said we had to stick together. He said —”

  “He’ll be busy here for hours,” she interrupted, glancing back at him. “He won’t even notice we’re gone. Really.”

  “But, Sari —” I started.

  “Besides,” she continued, putting her hands on my shoulders and pushing me backwards toward the chamber door, “he doesn’t want us hanging around. We’ll only get in the way.”

  “Sari —”

  “I went exploring yesterday,” she said, pushing me with both hands. “We won’t go far. You can’t get lost. All the tunnels lead back to this big room. Really.”

  “I just don’t think we should,” I said, my eyes on Uncle Ben. He was down on his hands and knees now, digging against the wall with some kind of a pick.

  “Let go of me,” I told her. “Really. I —”

  And then she said what I knew she’d say. What she always says when she wants to get her way.

  “Are you chicken?”

  “No,” I insisted. “You know your dad said —”

  “Chicken? Chicken? Chicken?” She began clucking like a chicken. Really obnoxious.

  “Stop it, Sari.” I tried to sound tough and menacing.

  “Are you chicken, Gabey?” she repeated, grinning at me as if she’d just won some big victory. “Huh, Gabey?”

  “Stop calling me that!” I insisted.

  She just stared at me.

  I made a disgusted face. “Okay, okay. Let’s go exploring,” I told her.

  I mean, what else could I say?

  “But not far,” I added.

  “Don’t worry,” she said, grinning. “We won’t get lost. I’ll just show you some of the tunnels I looked at yesterday. One of them has a strange animal picture carved on the wall. I think it’s some kind of a cat. I’m not sure.”

  “Really?” I cried, instantly excited. “I’ve seen pictures of relief carvings, but I’ve never —”

  “It may be a cat,” Sari said. “Or maybe a person with an animal head. It’s really weird.”

  “Where is it?” I asked.

  “Follow me.”

  We both gave one last glance back to Uncle Ben, who was down on his hands and knees, picking away at the stone wall.

  Then I followed Sari out of the chamber.

  We squeezed through the narrow tunnel, then turned and followed a slightly wider tunnel to the right. I hesitated, a few steps behind her. “Are you sure we’ll be able to get back?” I asked, keeping my voice low so she couldn’t accuse me of sounding frightened.

  “No problem,” she replied. “Keep your light on the floor. There’s a small chamber on the other end of this tunnel that’s kind of neat.”

  We followed the tunnel as it curved to the right. It branched into two low openings, and Sari took the one to the left.

  The air grew a little warmer. It smelled stale, as if people had been smoking cigarettes there.

  This tunnel was wider than the others. Sari was walking faster now, getting farther ahead of me. “Hey — wait up!” I cried.

  I looked down to see that my sneaker had come untied again. Uttering a loud, annoyed groan, I bent to retie it.

  “Hey, Sari, wait up!”

  She didn’t seem to hear me.

  I could see her light in the distance, growing fainter in the tunnel.

  Then it suddenly disappeared.

  Had her flashlight burned out?

  No. The tunnel probably curved, I decided. She’s just out of my view.

  “Hey, Sari!” I called. “Wait up! Wait up!”

  I stared ahead into the dark tunnel.

  “Sari?”

  Why didn’t she answer me?

  5

  “Sari!”

  My voice echoed through the long curving tunnel.

  No reply.

  I called again and listened to my voice fading as the echo repeated her name again and again.

  At first I was angry.

  I knew what Sari was doing.

  She was deliberately not answering, deliberately trying to frighten me.

  She had to prove that she was the brav
e one, and I was the ‘fraidy cat.

  I suddenly remembered another time, a few years before. Sari and Uncle Ben had come to my house for a visit. I think Sari and I were seven or eight.

  We went outside to play. It was a gray day, threatening rain. Sari had a jump rope and was showing off, as usual, showing me how good she was at it. Then, of course, when she let me try it, I tripped and fell, and she laughed like crazy.

  I’d decided to get back at her by taking her to this deserted old house a couple blocks up the street. The kids in the neighborhood all believed the house was haunted. It was a neat place to sneak in and explore, although our parents were always warning us to stay away from it because it was falling apart and dangerous.

  So I led Sari to this house and told her it was haunted. And we sneaked in through the broken basement window.

  It got even darker out and started to rain. It was perfect. I could tell Sari was really scared to be alone in the creepy old house. I, of course, wasn’t scared at all because I’d been there before.

  Well, we started exploring, with me leading the way. And somehow we got separated. And it started thundering and lightning outside. There was rain pouring in through the broken windows.

  I decided maybe we should go home. So I called to Sari. No answer.

  I called again. Still no answer.

  Then I heard a loud crash.

  Calling her name, I started running from room to room. I was scared to death. I was sure something terrible had happened.

  I ran through every room in the house, getting more and more scared. I couldn’t find her. I shouted and shouted, but she didn’t answer me.

  I was so scared, I started to cry. Then I totally panicked, and I ran out of the house and into the pouring rain.

  I ran through the thunder and lightning, crying all the way home. By the time I got home, I was soaked through and through.

  I ran into the kitchen, sobbing and crying that I’d lost Sari in the haunted house.

  And there she was. Sitting at the kitchen table. Comfortable and dry. Eating a big slice of chocolate cake. A smug smile on her face.

  And now, peering into the darkness of the pyramid, I knew Sari was doing the same thing to me.

  Trying to scare me.

  Trying to make me look bad.

  Or was she?

  As I made my way through the low, narrow tunnel, keeping the light aimed straight ahead, I couldn’t help it. My anger quickly turned to worry, and troubling questions whirred through my mind.

  What if she wasn’t playing a mean trick on me?

  What if something bad had happened to her?

  What if she had missed a step and fallen into a hole?

  Or had gotten herself trapped in a hidden tunnel? Or … I didn’t know what.

  I wasn’t thinking clearly.

  My sneakers thudded loudly over the sandy floor as I started to half walk, half jog through the winding tunnel. “Sari?” I called, frantically now, not caring whether I sounded frightened or not.

  Where was she?

  She wasn’t that far ahead of me. I should at least be able to see the light from her flashlight, I thought.

  “Sari?”

  There was no place for her to hide in this narrow space. Was I following the wrong tunnel?

  No.

  I had been in the same tunnel all along. The same tunnel I had watched her disappear in.

  Don’t say disappear, I scolded myself. Don’t even think the word.

  Suddenly, the narrow tunnel ended. A small opening led into a small square room. I flashed the light quickly from side to side.

  “Sari?”

  No sign of her.

  The walls were bare. The air was warm and stale. I moved the flashlight rapidly across the floor, looking for Sari’s footprints. The floor was harder, less sandy here. There were no footprints.

  “Oh!”

  I uttered a low cry when my light came to rest on the object against the far wall. My heart pounding, I eagerly took a few steps closer until I was just a few feet from it.

  It was a mummy case.

  A large stone mummy case, at least eight feet long.

  It was rectangular, with curved corners. The lid was carved. I stepped closer and aimed the light.

  Yes.

  A human face was carved on the lid. The face of a woman. It looked like a death mask, the kind we’d studied in school. It stared wide-eyed up at the ceiling.

  “Wow!” I cried aloud. A real mummy case.

  The carved face on the lid must have been brightly painted at one time. But the color had faded over the centuries. Now the face was gray, as pale as death.

  Staring at the top of the case, smooth and perfect, I wondered if Uncle Ben had seen it. Or if I had made a discovery of my own.

  Why is it all by itself in this small room? I wondered.

  And what does it hold inside?

  I was working up my courage to run my hand over the smooth stone of the lid when I heard the creaking sound.

  And saw the lid start to raise up.

  “Oh!” a hushed cry escaped my lips.

  At first I thought that I had imagined it. I didn’t move a muscle. I kept the light trained on the lid.

  The lid lifted a tiny bit more.

  And I heard a hissing sound come from inside the big coffin, like air escaping a new coffee can when you first open it.

  Uttering another low cry, I took a step back.

  The lid raised up another inch.

  I took another step back.

  And dropped the flashlight.

  I picked it up with a trembling hand and shined it back onto the mummy case.

  The lid was now open nearly a foot.

  I sucked in a deep breath of air and held it.

  I wanted to run, but my fear was freezing me in place.

  I wanted to scream, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to make a sound.

  The lid creaked and opened another inch.

  Another inch.

  I lowered the flashlight to the opening, the light quivering with my hand.

  From the dark depths of the ancient coffin, I saw two eyes staring out at me.

  6

  I uttered a silent gasp.

  I froze.

  I felt a cold chill zigzag down my back.

  The lid slowly pushed open another inch.

  The eyes stared out at me. Cold eyes. Evil eyes.

  Ancient eyes.

  My mouth dropped open. And before I even realized it, I started to scream.

  Scream at the top of my lungs.

  As I screamed, unable to turn away, unable to run, unable to move, the lid opened all the way.

  Slowly, as if in a dream, a dark figure raised itself from the depths of the mummy case and climbed out.

  “Sari!”

  A broad smile widened across her face. Her eyes glowed gleefully.

  “Sari — that wasn’t funny!” I managed to shout in a high-pitched voice that bounced off the stone walls.

  But now she was laughing too hard to hear me.

  Loud, scornful laughter.

  I was so furious, I searched frantically for something to throw at her. But there wasn’t anything, not even a pebble on the floor.

  Staring at her, my chest still heaving with fright, I really hated her then. She had made a total fool of me. There I had been, screaming like a baby.

  I knew she’d never let me live it down.

  Never.

  “The look on your face!” she exclaimed when she finally stopped laughing. “I wish I had a camera.”

  I was too angry to reply. I just growled at her.

  I pulled the little mummy hand from my back pocket and began rolling it around in my hand. I always fiddled with that hand when I was upset. It usually helped to calm me.

  But now I felt as if I’d never calm down.

  “I told you I’d found an empty mummy case yesterday,” she said, brushing the hair back off her face. “Didn’t you remember?”<
br />
  I growled again.

  I felt like a total dork.

  First I’d fallen for her dad’s stupid mummy costume. And now this.

  Silently, I vowed to myself to pay her back. If it was the last thing I ever did.

  She was still chuckling about her big-deal joke. “The look on your face,” she said again, shaking her head. Rubbing it in.

  “You wouldn’t like it if I scared you,” I muttered angrily.

  “You couldn’t scare me,” she replied. “I don’t scare so easy.”

  “Ha!”

  That was the best comeback I could think of. Not very clever, I know. But I was too angry to be clever.

  I was imagining myself picking Sari up and tossing her back into the mummy case, pulling down the lid, and locking it — when I heard footsteps approaching in the tunnel.

  Glancing over at Sari, I saw her expression change. She heard them, too.

  A few seconds later, Uncle Ben burst into the small room. I could see immediately, even in the dim light, that he was really angry.

  “I thought I could trust you two,” he said, talking through gritted teeth.

  “Dad —” Sari started.

  But he cut her off sharply. “I trusted you not to wander off without telling me. Do you know how easy it is to get lost in this place? Lost forever?”

  “Dad,” Sari started again. “I was just showing Gabe this room I discovered yesterday. We were going to come right back. Really.”

  “There are hundreds of tunnels,” Uncle Ben said heatedly, ignoring Sari’s explanation. “Maybe thousands. Many of them have never been explored. No one has ever been in this section of the pyramid before. We have no idea what dangers there are. You two can’t just wander off by yourselves. Do you know how frantic I was when I turned around and you were gone?”

  “Sorry,” Sari and I both said in unison.

  “Let’s go,” Uncle Ben said, gesturing to the door with his flashlight. “Your pyramid visit is over for today.”

  We followed him into the tunnel. I felt really bad. Not only had I fallen for Sari’s stupid joke, but I’d made my favorite uncle really angry.

  Sari always gets me into trouble, I thought bitterly. Since we were little kids.

  Now she was walking ahead of me, arm in arm with her dad, telling him something, her face close to his ear. Suddenly, they both burst out laughing and turned back to look at me.