by Amy Cross
“Bloody idiots,” Duncan muttered.
“I admire them, in a way,” Henrik continued. “At the moment of their death, they were convinced beyond doubt that they were passing into a new world. No fear, no anxiety, just happiness at what was to come.” He paused, before turning to Charley. “That must be a good way to die. No fear at all. No pain.”
“Apart from the knife in your back,” Duncan added, heading over to the stone table and crouching to examine the inscriptions.
“It was their job,” Henrik pointed out. “For most of their lives, they carried out the daily ceremonies of the temples, but when their king was approaching his final days, the core group of priests would have been charged with cleaning up inside the pyramid. Once the tomb was sealed, the priests would have to perform ritual sacrifices and killings until they were the only ones left, and then two of them would have killed themselves.” He paused for a moment. “One priest would be left behind, and it was his job to guard the pyramid.”
“Left behind for how long?” Charley asked.
“In theory, forever, but in practice...” He paused again. “The last priest was forbidden from killing himself. He was to wait until his king rose, no matter how long that took. The idea was that he'd live long enough, but obviously in practice he'd have starved to death, or died from dehydration, or he might have ignored his orders and killed himself if he was weak. He was trained his whole life so that he could fulfill that role.”
“Still,” Martha said after a moment, “in theory, he should still be wandering around somewhere. That's what they believed would happen at the time.”
“He'd protect the burial chamber at all costs,” Henrik replied.
“We need to find that chamber,” Chris reminded them. “Steps will have been taken to keep it hidden, but the pyramid is only so large. It's in here somewhere.”
“Better hope that priest isn't still around,” Duncan said with a smile. “I wouldn't like to come across a thousand-year old guy with a chip on his shoulder. I mean, come on, the last priest would be the one who saw through all the bullshit.”
“What bullshit?” Charley asked.
“Think about it,” Duncan continued. “The last priest was left to wander around, waiting for the great Ah-Shalla to rise up, right? But the problem with that is that Ah-Shalla didn't rise. By the time he breathed his final breaths, that last priest must have realized that the whole thing was a huge mistake and that Ah-Shalla wasn't coming back. I bet the guy felt pretty goddamn stupid by that point.” Glancing over his shoulder, he saw that Chris had already made his way to the other side of the chamber and was using the light from his torch to examine a stone door set into the wall. “Imagine dying like that,” he added. “No way out, just trapped in this place with a knife so you could finish yourself off.” He turned to Henrik. “Doesn't seem like such a perfect death anymore, does it?”
“We need to get through this door,” Chris called out to them. “If the pyramid is anything like the others I've seen, we should be close to the hall of warriors. After that, the burial chamber should be easy to find.”
“Did anyone happen to bring a sledgehammer?” Duncan asked with a smile.
As she and Martha headed over to join Chris, Charley couldn't help feeling that everything seemed too easy so far. Having read up on similar tombs, she knew full well that the pyramid's layout seemed too simple to navigate, too predictable, almost as if it had been built specifically so that explorers could find their way around. She glanced over her shoulder, watching as Henrik and Duncan continued to examine the stone table, but she told herself that her concerns were baseless. By the time she and Martha reached Chris, they found that he'd managed to pull away a section of stone, revealing a chain that ran across part of the wall and then into the doorway.
“Going to ring the bell?” Martha asked.
“It's a fairly simple mechanism,” he replied, taking hold of the chain. “Weights and counter-weights, it should open when I pull.”
“Are you sure you shouldn't -”
Before Martha could finish, Chris pulled on the chain, causing a series of grinding noises to start churning behind the wall. The three of them took a step back, watching as the door shuddered slightly, before finally the stone began to grind to one side, revealing a passage that led into the next room.
“Simple,” Chris said with a faint smile.
“Are you sure it's not too simple?” Charley asked. “I mean, I thought these people were supposed to be masters of hiding things and keeping people out. Right now, it's more like they're welcoming us.”
“It's all relative,” Chris replied. “They were masters in their day, but things have moved on. They relied on superstition, too, which doesn't work on us.” Stepping through the door, he made his way to the next room and stopped. “My God, you have to come and see this,” he said after a moment. “I was right, it is the hall of warriors. Traditionally, this was the last defense before the burial chamber.”
“After you,” Martha said, gesturing for Charley to go first as Henrik and Duncan headed over to join them.
Making her way through the doorway, Charley saw to her surprise that the next room was even larger, and was filled with hundreds of life-size stone statues, each of which was dressed in what appeared to be armor, complete with weapons in their hands. The light from her torch picked out one stone face after another, all staring back as if they were waiting for the intruders to make the first move.
“Makes the Terracotta army look like a Lego set, huh?” Chris continued, taking a step forward.
“I've never seen anything like it,” Charley added, making her way toward the nearest statue and examining it more closely. The stone face stared back at her, and she couldn't help reaching out and running a hand across the broad shoulders. She knew she should hold back and be more careful, but she'd dreamed of making a big discovery and now the sight of so many stone warriors was enough to counter her fears. “It's beautiful,” she continued. “They're all beautiful.”
“And supposedly lethal,” Duncan said, heading over to join her. “According to legend, these warriors would kill anyone who dared come this far into the tomb.
“I think we're okay,” Chris replied, gently tapping one of the soldiers. “They're priceless, though. Imagine getting them back to London and putting them in the British Museum.”
“Don't you think the local authorities would have something to say about that?” Martha asked, standing in the doorway and taking photos of the vast army. The flash from her camera lit the room several times. “After the whole Elgin Marbles fiasco, I don't think too many countries would like to see the British squirreling their cultural histories away. We kind of have a reputation, you know.”
“It'd be purely for research purposes,” Chris continued, stepping over to another of the warriors.
“That's what they said about the Elgin Marbles,” Martha replied, rolling her eyes before taking a couple more photos. After a moment, she took another step. “Face it, there's -”
Before she could finish the sentence, the stone beneath her right foot suddenly shifted a little. A fraction of a second later, a set of thick metal spikes shot out from the other side of the door. Henrik rushed forward to push her away, but he was too late and the spikes sliced straight through her body and head, pinning her to the wall before she even had time to scream.
Chapter Seven
“Get her out of there!” Chris shouted, running over to the doorway but stopping as soon as he saw that it was too late: the spikes had gone straight through Martha's belly, chest and neck, and one had sliced into her head, crushing her skull and leaving thick rivers of blood to run down onto the floor.
Next to her, Henrik was also pinned to the wall by the spikes, but only one had hit him as he lunged for Martha. Running straight through his shoulder, the rusty spike remained firmly in place even as he panicked and tried to pull it free.
“Is she -” Charley said, stepping closer before seeing t
he truth for herself. She stared for a moment at what remained of Martha's head, and after a moment she realized that the woman's eyes were twitching slightly, as if she was still conscious. As Charley watched in horror, she saw the pupils of Martha's eyes starting to expand. Finally, feeling as if she might throw up, she had to turn away.
“Jesus Christ,” Chris continued, his voice filled with panic as he grabbed the spikes and tried to pull them back, without any luck.
“I thought there weren't supposed to be any traps!” Duncan shouted.
“Help me with these things!” Chris shouted, still pulling on the spikes.
Making sure not to look directly at Martha's face, Charley ran over and took hold of the spikes, but no matter how hard she and Chris pulled, they couldn't get them to budge.
“The chain,” Chris stammered, looking through at Henrik. “Pull the chain next to the door!”
Clearly in extreme pain, Henrik tried to turn and look back around to the other side of the doorway. Reaching out a hand, he fumbled for a moment before finding the chain. As soon as he gave it a tug, there was the sound of more chains running through the walls, and finally the spikes began to grind back into the wall, leaving Henrik to step back clutching his shoulder as Martha's lifeless body was dragged by the spikes and slid off, dropping to the floor with a dull thud.
“Oh God,” Charley whispered, stepping back and staring at what was left of Martha's head, with a large, bloody hole running from one side of the other. “Please no, please...”
“Show me the wound,” Chris said, hurrying to Henrik and easing him down to the floor. “We need a medical bag! Someone has to go back to the tents and get a medical bag!”
Taking a deep breath, Charley tried to steady her nerves, but she couldn't stop staring at Martha's dead body and she felt as if she was going to faint at any moment. She could hear Chris, Henrik and Duncan shouting at each other nearby, but their words seemed to fade into the background as if she couldn't make out what they were saying. Instead, she continue to stare at Martha, and after a moment she realized she felt as if she was starting to sway back and forth, as if at any moment she might collapse. The only way to -
“Charley!” Chris shouted, grabbing her shoulder and shaking her back to reality. “Did you hear me?”
“What?” she stammered, turning to him.
“I need you to go back to the campsite and fetch one of the medical kits,” he continued, pulling her through the doorway. “You have to hurry!”
She stared at him, still feeling as if her mind was blank. “But -”
“There's no time!” he shouted. “We need one of the kits!”
Looking down at Henrik, she saw that he'd already lost a lot of blood and that his face was pale, while Duncan was trying to stem the blood-loss as much as possible. After a moment, she turned and looked at Martha again and saw that she was completely still, and that no-one was trying to help her anymore, and that -
“Charley!” Chris shouted, shaking her shoulder. “Move! Now!”
“Sure,” she whispered, turning and stumbling across the stone floor for a moment before breaking into a run, desperate to get the hell away from everything that had just happened. Racing down into the round pit and then up the steps at the far side, she hurried through the far doorway and into the corridor. She felt as if she was in a complete daze, as if the world was spinning around her. Running along the corridor, she almost slammed into the wall at the far end before turning left. By the time she reached the room with the skeletons a moment later, her mind was almost empty and all she could think about was the image of Martha's head with the spike pushing through her skull, and the twitching of her eyes, and the sight of her pupils getting larger.
Reaching the archways, Charley stopped suddenly as she looked out and saw that a huge tropical rainstorm had moved in, with rain crashing down. Hurrying across the plateau, she was soaking wet before she'd managed to get more than a few paces, but she kept going until she reached the steps. Almost tripping a couple of times, she finally got to the tents and found that two of them had already collapsed under the ferocious rainfall. Getting down onto her knees, she opened the third tent and crawled inside before frantically searching for a medical kit.
“Come on,” she whispered, “please, just -”
Spotting the satellite phone, she paused for a moment before grabbing it and trying to call the London base. Getting no tone, she realized the weather was interfering with the signal, so she threw the phone aside and resumed her search for a medical kit. Finding a plastic case with a green cross on the front, she pulled it open and saw bandages and other medical equipment, so she closed it again and then hurried out of the tent. Racing back up the stone steps, she slipped near the top and landed hard, bashing her knee. With no time to even think about the pain, she scrambled to her feet and ran back across the plateau.
***
“I've got it!” she shouted as soon as she reached the round chamber and spotted the others up ahead. Racing down into the pit and then back up the steps on the other side, she almost stumbled as she dropped down next to Henrik and pushed the kit toward Chris.
“What the hell happened to you?” Duncan asked, staring at her.
“It's raining,” she muttered, watching as Chris frantically opened the medical box. She was so completely soaked, water was dribbling off her body and wetting the dusty stone floor.
“Did you try the phone?” Henrik whispered.
“No signal,” she replied, shivering a little as her cold clothes clung to her body. “It's probably the weather, I'm sure it'll pass soon.”
“What about the tents?” Chris asked.
Spotting Martha's body over by the doorway, Charley froze for a moment.
“Stay with us!” Chris shouted, nudging her shoulder as he began to tear Henrik's shirt away from the wound on his shoulder. “Charley, are the tents okay?”
“Two of them have collapsed,” she replied, still staring at Martha for a moment before turning back to Henrik and seeing that his face was getting paler by the minute. She knew she had to stay focused, that she couldn't afford to let everyone down by freaking out. “I think they can be rescued,” she added. “Nothing's actually broken.”
“Hold this,” Chris said, shoving a wad of bandages into her hand.
“I thought you said the traps wouldn't still work!” Duncan hissed.
“They shouldn't have,” Chris replied, pouring an antiseptic onto Henrik's shoulder.
“I thought you said there wouldn't be any traps at all!”
Letting out a cry of pain, Henrik tried to push the others away, but Duncan held him down.
“I knew it was too easy,” Duncan continued. “The way we just waltzed in here, it was like nothing bad could happen to us.”
“Can we cut the discussion for now?” Chris asked, taking a pair of scissors and using the tip to gently pull some loose skin away from Henrik's wound. His hands were shaking slightly but he was just about managing to get the job done. “I'm more worried about the possibility of infection right now and -” Before he could finish, a fresh spurt of blood erupted from the hole in Henrik's shoulder. “And the blood loss,” Chris continued, taking several bandages and pushing them over the hole.
“Those spikes were rusty,” Henrik whispered, his eyes half-closed as if he was starting to lose consciousness. “There could be... There...”
“Stay with us!” Chris shouted, snapping his fingers in front of the other man's face but only partially succeeding in attracting his attention. “Henrik, you have to stay awake!”
“Should have...” he continued, “never...”
“Is he going to be okay?” Charley whispered.
“I don't know,” Chris replied, pulling the bandages back a little so he could get a better look at the wound. “It's a big hole, I have no idea how to seal it.”
“I can go back and get another medical kit,” Charley suggested.
“There's no point, they're all identical.�
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“We have to do something!” she hissed.
“We are,” he replied, pushing more bandages against the wound. “Just give me a moment to work out the best approach.”
“We can't leave during a storm,” Duncan said after a moment. “Even if we could carry him through the jungle, in this weather there are going to be mudslides, rivers bursting their banks. Plus there are crocodiles in the water, when the weather's bad they're more likely to come up onto land.”
“We'll worry about that later,” Chris replied, interrupting him. “The rain can't last forever.”
“Leave me here...” Henrik whispered, closing his eyes and letting his head drop to one side. “I don't... You should go...”
“No way,” Chris said firmly. “We're not leaving anyone behind.”
Glancing over at Martha's body for a moment, Charley felt a shiver pass along her spine.
“The bleeding's going to ease eventually,” Chris continued, “and then we can start to stabilize you.” He stared at Henrik's face for a moment, before giving him a gentle nudge. “Did you hear me? Henrik? Doctor Odbakken, I need you to open your eyes and show me that you can hear me!”
As his eyes flickered open, Henrik slowly lifted his head until he was looking up at Chris again, but it was clear from his expression that he was struggling to stay awake.
“Jesus Christ,” Duncan muttered, turning and walking away for a moment. “Jesus goddamn Christ...”
“Could you cauterize the wound?” Charley asked, turning to Chris.
“What?”
“Burn it,” she continued, desperately trying to think of something that might work. “At least that way, it'd be sealed!”
“I doubt -” He paused for a moment, before looking over at the medical kit. “It's worth a shot, but we need a flame.”
“He has one,” Charley said, reaching over to Henrik and unzipping the pockets of his jacket. “Henrik, I'm just going to take your lighter, okay?” Pulling the lighter out, she passed it to Chris, who immediately pulled the bandages away and struck a flame. As he moved the lighter closer to the wound, however, his hand started trembling again.