by Paul Cooper
‘No!’ shouted Tammy. ‘I mean there’s a mummy at the door, and it’s coming this way!’
CHAPTER 10:
Wrapping Things Up
Brian stuck his head up and saw it was true. One of the mummies was shuffling towards them with arms outstretched. It didn’t look like the sort of mummy that would make you jam sandwiches with no crusts and then read you a night-night story; this one looked more like the sort of mummy that would wrap its dusty hands round your neck and squeeze very hard indeed until your eyeballs popped out. It gave an awful groan and there was a sudden whiff of centuries-old dead air.
‘Ooh, mummy breath!’ cried Tammy, waving a trotter over her snout. ‘GROSS!’
As Tammy and Brian burst out of their hiding-place, the mechanic dashed to the left and the medic went right. The mummy was confused – which one to grab?
This moment’s confusion allowed the two pigs to duck under its outstretched arms and run back into the tunnel. They could see another mummy filling the doorway into the main burial room, so they nipped quickly into the other little room they had passed. They knew they didn’t have long before another mummy found them.
‘I’ve got an idea!’ Tammy cried, kneeling and digging into her backpack. ‘Here!’ She pulled out a family pack of toilet paper. This was the ‘special desert provisions’ she had brought. ‘We can wrap ourselves up so we look like mummies, too!’ she explained, ripping the pack open.
‘Won’t we be the wrong colour?’ Brian asked. ‘You don’t get many mummies in lavender-coloured wrapping.’
Tammy tilted the label towards him. ‘I don’t get the Luxury Lavender “Feel the Difference on Your Botty” Super-Soft Loo Paper any more. I buy the Economy Grey Value-Pack “Wipe Yer Bum” Bog Paper now – it’s cheaper AND it’s the perfect colour for mummy bandages! Stand still, Bri – I’m about to mummify you!’
She began to wrap the first roll round the medic’s leg.
‘Tammy, I know there isn’t time to waste, but I must ask … why? Why do you have a family pack of toilet paper in your backpack?’
Tammy didn’t stop wrapping. ‘You never know when you might need some loo paper, especially when you’re travelling abroad to a hot island like this … DUH! I thought you were supposed to be clever, Brian!’
Soon she had wrapped the medic from head to toe in the grey tissue paper, with just narrow slits for eyes.
‘You look great!’ said Tammy. ‘Now practise walking like a mummy.’
She gave a quick demonstration and Brian did his best to copy.
‘I think it needs to be a bit more of a shambling shuffle,’ Tammy advised, starting to wrap herself up too. ‘Drag your back foot a bit more. Also, it might help if you put your arms out in front of you, not on your hips.’ She watched his second attempt. ‘Yes, that’s better … a bit. Also, you’ve got to groan, like this …’ Tammy let out a low groan that echoed around the underground chamber.
‘UUUUUHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!’
Brian gave it a go. ‘Aheeeeeeeeeerrm?’
‘You sound like you’re trying to remember your nineteen-times table.’
‘The nineteen-times table is simple,’ said Brian, puzzled.
‘OK …’ said Tammy, thinking fast. ‘Imagine you’d just eaten my usual Saturday lunch.’
Brian had often watched in astonishment at weekends as Tammy polished off four pies, two pizzas and as many pasties as she could carry, all washed down with a bucket of Slurpo-Pop. Just the thought of it made his tummy complain.
‘UUHHHH!’ he moaned.
‘That’s it!’ encouraged Tammy. ‘Just keep that noise up, and maybe we can get out of here in one piece!’
She was completely wrapped up now too. She gave Brian a little nod and they both mummy-walked out of the chamber, back towards the burial room.
‘How far have we gone now?’ groaned Pete.
‘About seven miles,’ Howard said.
‘Seven point six!’ corrected Peregrine instantly.
Howard would normally have argued, but both pigs were too hot and tired even to bicker. Whoever was right, they had still gone less than halfway. How would they ever make it to the Valley of the Camel Kings?
Out in front, Curly plodded over yet another dune … and then stopped. He could see a tall robed figure in the distance, just looking at him. His first thought was that this was another mirage, and yet so far all of the mirages had involved quenching your thirst. Maybe this strange figure in the desert was real?
‘Coo-ee!’ Curly waved. ‘Hello! Can you help us, please?’
The figure didn’t respond in any way.
The other pigs had caught up with Curly by now.
‘Can you see it too?’ the trainee asked.
‘We can.’ Peregrine raised his voice. ‘Who ARE you?’
Still no answer, but the tall figure lifted one trotter, and a slender pig’s arm – well, slender by pig standards – emerged from its white robes. It pointed at something large and half buried in the sand.
With their last dregs of energy, the pigs staggered over and began to brush the sand off this object.
‘I think it’s … yes! It’s an aeroplane!’ exclaimed Pete.
‘I’ve never seen one like this before!’ said Curly.
It was nothing like the zappy, top-of-the-line SkyHog jets the Pigs in Planes zoomed around in. This plane was much, much older. It still had a propeller at the front, and on each side it had two wings, one on top of the other, separated by a network of thin struts.
‘It must have been here for a hundred years or more,’ said Howard.
But Peregrine was looking at the wrecked plane with an odd misty expression in his eyes. ‘It’s beautiful,’ he said. ‘It’s a Sopwith Camel. They were old, even when I started flying, but I was lucky enough to do some training in one. They fly like a dream!’
‘This one looks more like a nightmare,’ said Pete. ‘It’s been here for so long, it’s just a piece of rusted old junk.’
Peregrine turned towards the far-off figure, who just gave a slow nod of the head.
‘How mysterious,’ said Curly.
‘That’s one word for it,’ said Pete. ‘Others are weird and really sort of creepy.’
Moments later, a wind came from nowhere. It blew stronger and stronger, hurling hot sand into the air until the four pigs were unable to see anything, while their faces and bodies were sand-blasted.
Curly tried to shout, ‘Sand is getting in my mouth!’ but he couldn’t because sand was getting in his mouth.
If it carried on like this much longer, they were going to find themselves buried up to their necks in sand once again …
CHAPTER 11:
Pharaoh Frenzy
Tammy and Brian shuffled back to the main burial chamber in their mummy disguises. Most of the other mummies were still there. Both they and the three living camels were all gazing at the big sarcophagus in the centre of the room. The black stone Hump on the camel statue seemed to be glowing even more. They could feel the crackle of some unseen energy in the air.
Nervous that their loo-roll disguises would be seen through, Tammy started towards the exit. Brian followed. Nobody grabbed them or tried to rip their fake bandages off. But then one of the real mummies placed a cold hand on Tammy’s shoulder and slowly turned her round towards the centre of the room. Another mummy did the same to Brian.
All of the mummies had linked arms to watch what was going on in the middle of the stone room. With the mummies’ vice-like grips on their shoulders, Tammy and Brian could do nothing but watch too.
The big sarcophagus was open now. Inside, with its arms folded across its narrow chest, lay the dried-up body of a camel. It wore a tall pharaoh’s hat and there were golden symbols all over its faded robes. These were the remains of the Great Pharaoh Nokankumin.
The body looked as if it had been in there an awfully long time, but with each passing second, it was changing. The air in the chamber felt charged with power as the pharaoh�
�s wrinkled flesh began to fill out and look less leathery. In general, it was looking less ancient … less dried-up … altogether less DEAD.
In fact, after a few more seconds, it was looking really quite alive, especially when its long eyelashes fluttered and its cold yellow eyes snapped open.
Then it sat up for the first time in several thousand years. It looked around and produced an evil, thin-lipped smile. Cam-Ho-Tep and his helpers started bowing down. The mummies were doing this as well, and so Tammy and Brian quickly copied them.
When the pharaoh spoke, his voice was like the wind through an ancient dusty tomb, or perhaps like a really old camel with a tickly cough.
‘I have returned!’ said Nokankumin, King of Camel Kings. ‘And after so long in that sarcophagus, I am in a very bad mood indeed!’
The sudden desert wind stopped as quickly as it had started. When it did, the four exhausted pigs saw that the sand covering the Sopwith Camel biplane had been blown away. That wasn’t all – it had gone from being a half-buried wreck to looking like an exhibit in an aeroplane museum.
‘Incredible!’ said Pete. ‘But I still don’t see how it helps us. I mean, it won’t be able to go anywhere, will it? After all this time, surely there’s no fuel in the tank.’
Peregrine had clambered up to the open cockpit. ‘You’re right, it’s completely empty,’ he said, tapping the fuel gauge sadly. As soon as he did this, the gauge’s needle slowly moved to the right. ‘Erm, wait – what I meant is, it’s completely full!’
The mysterious robed pig was still watching them silently from a distance.
‘OK, but there’s no way the propeller’s ever going to turn,’ said Pete. To prove his point, he gave the plane’s propeller a spin. It whizzed round as if it was brand new. The ancient aeroplane’s engine rumbled into instant life.
‘Get on!’ shouted the wing commander from the pilot’s seat. ‘I do believe she’s going to fly!’ There was only space for one more pig in the cockpit, so Howard wedged himself behind his big brother. Curly had to crouch on one of the lower wings and grip on to the struts that separated it from the upper wing.
The sudden wind had uncovered a runway, too, and the only things stopping the plane from zooming along this now were two wooden blocks – known as chocks – placed in front of the wheels. Once these were pulled away, the plane would start to move. The only person who could do this was Pete, and then he’d have to hop nimbly up on to the other wing before the plane got up too much speed.
Peregrine was beaming as he readied himself to shout two words he thought he’d never get to say again.
‘CHOCKS AWAY!’
CHAPTER 12:
The Plan Unravels
Tammy and Brian weren’t having much luck making their escape from the burial room. Every time either of them took a mummy-step towards the tunnel out of the chamber, something seemed to get in the way.
Meanwhile, the newly revived Pharaoh Nokankumin was getting used to being alive again.
‘Soon I will establish myself once more as ruler of this world and the next,’ he declared grandly. An annoyed look crossed his face. ‘But first, I want this place tidied up. I can’t stand a messy tomb. You there!’ He pointed at one of the smaller mummies. ‘Make yourself useful and close all the sarcophagi lids!’
The mummy started towards the first stone coffin. From the safety of her own disguise, Tammy watched nervously. Only she knew that the mummy walking around the room’s edge was actually Brian Trotter.
But the medic was doing his best to act like a mummy. He let out one or two dreadful groans as he closed the first lid and shuffled towards the next sarcophagus.
That’s when Tammy noticed something terrible. The loo paper round Brian’s leg had begun to unwind. A loose end was flapping down about one ankle. He didn’t know it, but with each shuffling mummy-step the PiPs medic took, more paper unwound. Soon the trousers of his uniform would be visible.
‘PSSSST!’ Tammy hissed urgently, nodding her head towards his trouser leg.
Brian was too busy overacting to hear this, but the mummy next to Tammy let out a low groan in her direction. She could do nothing but join in and groan too.
As Brian shuffled on, the loose end caught on one of the canopic jars. It began to unwind even faster. Tammy was horrified, although part of her was quite impressed with how strong this cheap brand of loo paper was.
Brian didn’t have a clue that one whole leg and half of his tummy were no longer wrapped up. The groans and moans of the other mummies in the chamber had become more baffled. Everybody was watching Brian.
‘STOP!’ cried Pharaoh Nokankumin. ‘Who are YOU?’
He pointed his golden crook at Brian, who was still unaware that the only bits of him still under wraps were his arms, one leg and his head.
‘UUHHHH!’ he said in his best mummy-groan. He silently congratulated himself on how mummyish he sounded.
‘WHAT?’ asked Nokankumin.
‘I said … UHHH,’ replied Brian. ‘You know, like a mummy?’
He looked at the real mummies all staring at him. ‘Oops.’ Then he looked down at his exposed flightsuit. ‘Double oops!’
Then he looked back at the trail of unwound loo paper on the floor behind him. Before he could even say ‘Triple oops!’ the camels Dick and Drom grabbed hold of him.
Nokankumin speared the PiPs medic with his most evil glare. ‘You will have the honour of witnessing the rebirth of my mighty empire,’ he hissed.
‘Just a sec, O mighty King of Camel Kings!’ cried Cam-Ho-Tep. ‘There were TWO pigs, master. Perhaps another of your faithful servants here is an imposter?’
Nokankumin glared at the assembled mummies. He raised a dried-out eyebrow and commanded, ‘All of you, turn to the side.’
The mummies obeyed. Brian guessed that the pharaoh was checking to see if any of them didn’t have a hump at the back. The mummies’ humps were much smaller than those of living camels, but they were still noticeable.
And yet there didn’t seem to be a mummy in the room WITHOUT a hump. That was because Tammy was still wearing her backpack underneath her loo-roll bandages!
Nokankumin’s eyes narrowed to slits. ‘Now say something,’ he ordered the mummies.
He pointed to each in turn and, one by one, they let out a low mummy groan. They all sounded the same. Even Brian wasn’t sure now which one was Tammy. Or maybe NONE of the mummies was Tammy? Maybe she’d managed to sneak away?
‘Very well,’ scowled Nokankumin. ‘Time for a break … Who’d like a bit of cake?’
Immediately, the arm of just one mummy – a short, round mummy – shot up into the air. It fell again as soon as its owner looked around the room, but it was too late.
Nokankumin pressed his thin lips into a cruel smirk. ‘Get that pig,’ he snarled.
‘Yes, master!’ cried Cam-Ho-Tep eagerly.
Before Tammy could do anything, the camel once known as Tom was holding her arm in an iron grip. With her free trotter, she pulled away the loo paper from her face. ‘OK, you’ve got me,’ she said. ‘But do I still get that bit of cake?’
The pharaoh’s eyes blazed. ‘By the time you see what I’ve got planned, you won’t be in the mood for CAKE!’ He threw his head back for a good old classic evil laugh. With centuries of tomb dust in his throat, this soon became a series of dry coughs.
‘Are you OK, O Great One? Um … can I get you a drink?’ offered Cam-Ho-Tep.
‘No!’ croaked Nokankumin. ‘Just bring me the Hump of Doom! The time has come for me to summon my Armies of the Undead!’
Tammy and Brian swapped nervous looks. They weren’t sure what the pharaoh was going on about, but one thing was certain – it did not sound like a pleasant way to spend the afternoon.
CHAPTER 13:
Hump Day
Nokankumin’s long bony arms quivered with excitement as he reached out for the Hump of Doom. As soon as his hooves closed round it and lifted it, there was a deafening sizzle, like a massive
power surge all around the chamber. Blue lightning seemed to spark and flash out of the Hump itself. The walls began to rumble and shake again, much worse than before.
‘The time has come!’ screamed Nokankumin. ‘Let Hump Day begin!’
Rocks and stone blocks were falling all around them now, and Tammy had an odd feeling in her stomach – the sort of feeling you get when you’re in a lift going up. The reason for this was simple – they WERE going up. The very stone floor beneath their feet was zooming upwards.
However, it didn’t hurtle into the tomb’s ceiling because the stone blocks above them were crashing and breaking to reveal bright blue sky. The sides of the floor seemed to fall away as the flagstone at its centre point shot upwards. The rest of the tomb followed. Brian and Tammy found themselves clinging to moving blocks of stone and squinting against the sudden glare of sunlight all around them.
Tammy looked over her shoulder and realized that they were on top of a great pyramid. It must have been there all along, buried underneath the hidden tomb of Nokankumin. Somehow, the frenzied pharaoh had used the power of the Hump to bring it bursting up out of the rock and sand.
Now Nokankumin stood on the highest stone of the pyramid, holding the Hump of Doom up in his reedy arms.
‘Come, my Armies of the Undead!’ he cried. ‘Hump Day is here! It is time to claim this world again for the glory of the Great Pharaoh Nokankumin!’
There was a booming noise from further down one side of the pyramid.
‘What’s THAT?’ shouted Tammy.
‘I’m only guessing,’ cried Brian, ‘but I’d say that’s the sound of his Armies of the Undead turning up!’
The Sopwith Camel biplane was zooming low across the desert. On either side, Pete and Curly held on tight to the wings’ struts.
‘Who do you think she was?’ cried Curly. ‘That pig back there?’
‘Don’t know!’ roared Peregrine into the wind. ‘But she certainly knew her vintage planes!’