Jake Atlas and the Tomb of the Emerald Snake

by Rob Lloyd Jones

  She was babbling with excitement. The mystery had given her fresh strength. To be honest, I just wanted to rest. I lay my head against the coffin and let it carry me to the shore.

  “There’s an opening between the boulders,” I said. “We can hide it inside.”

  We paddled around the side of the coffin, and Pan helped me up onto the rocks. Grasping the sides of the casket, we tried to haul it up onto the shore.

  “Pull,” Pan grunted.

  “I am pulling…”

  “Pull harder.”

  I dug my fingers into grooves made by the engravings on the casket’s side and tried to use them as handles to drag it up onto the shore. But my grip slipped and I tumbled back onto the rock. Pan swore at me and demanded I get up and try again, but I sat on the wet rocks, staring up at boulders that rose to the island’s higher ground.

  A shadow stretched from somewhere above. Footsteps marched over stone. Someone was coming.

  35

  “Pull, Jake!”

  I tried. I promise I tried. I leaned over the coffin again, gritted my teeth and tensed my arms and pulled. But I was all used up – my limbs felt like they were made of wet paper. Mum’s and Dad’s lives may have depended on us hiding that casket, but we couldn’t even get it onto the rocks, let alone drag it to the hiding place.

  Leaving it in the water, we turned to fight. We’d defend it with whatever we had left. Pan gripped a rock with bloodless fingers.

  “Don’t let them take it,” she said.

  The shadow darkened and a face peered around a boulder. Silver stubble and a red scar that gleamed in the sun.

  “Kit?” I gasped.

  He stepped out, smiling. “There you are. I was worried. You were spotted near…”

  His voice trailed off as he saw the coffin. It swayed on the water, bashing against the rocks with a series of hollow thunks.

  “My god,” he breathed. “You did it. You actually did it.”

  “Back off!” Pan warned, raising the rock. “You’re not touching it.”

  “Yeah,” I grunted. “Finders keepers.”

  Kit didn’t seem to hear. It was as if the sunlight glinting off the coffin’s lid had mesmerized him.

  He didn’t come closer, but Pan launched a perfect shot that caught him smack on the forehead. There was a spurt of blood and Kit collapsed to the sand. He gripped his head, blood gushing through the gaps between his fingers. His other hand shot up, palm raised.

  “Don’t shoot!” he called.

  More shadows fell over the rocks. A line of mercenaries armed with stun guns appeared above us. At the same time, three motorboats full of the black-suited figures came from behind the island.

  We were surrounded.

  The snake lady stood in one of the boats, gripping a seat as the vessel rocked on the water. Her white hair hung over a bright orange life-jacket that looked out of place among all the military kit and high-tech equipment.

  “Darlings!” she said. “You found the coffin. You really are such talented children.”

  Pan grabbed another rock. “I’ll show you talent.”

  All at once, the mercenaries raised their weapons.

  “Pan, stop!” Kit warned, clutching his head. “They’ll fire.”

  Pan’s arm froze mid-swing. The rock trembled in her grip.

  “Pan,” I said. “Don’t.”

  She closed her eyes and then dropped the rock.

  “Take the coffin!” I called. “The tablet’s inside, right? Isn’t that enough? You can let our parents go. The tomb is down there too. All the treasure, everything you’re after. Do whatever you like with it, we’ll never tell a soul.”

  “Everything we’re after?” the snake lady said.

  She clapped her hands. “You think the tablet in that coffin is everything we’re after? Oh, how delightful you are, Jake.”

  I grabbed another rock and dropped to my knees, ready to strike the coffin in the water. “Let our parents go or I’ll smash it. Whatever that tablet is, I’ll get it and smash it to dust.”

  “Jake,” Kit said. “It won’t work.”

  “Oh no, let him try,” the snake lady said. “Go on, Jake, try to smash it. Go on, Jake. Everyone cheer him on. Jake-y! Jake-y! Jake-y! I said everyone!”

  All the mercenaries joined in the chant, taunting. A nuclear explosion went off inside me, but I breathed in, trying to control my anger. I didn’t stand a chance of smashing the coffin, and I wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of watching me try. I dropped the rock, my last hope thumping to the shore.

  “Oh, boo!” the snake lady said. “I was looking forward to that. You see, dear Jake, you have no idea what that coffin is made of. Of course it can be opened, but unless you know how you could not destroy it, or penetrate it in any way. Believe me, we have tried.”

  “You want to destroy it?” Pan said.

  The snake lady just smiled, but I understood. She and her people wanted the tablets, but also to erase all evidence of the tablets’ existence. That was why she’d paid Kit to blow up the first tomb at Giza. She’d probably planned something similar for the underwater tomb here. I didn’t understand why, and right then I didn’t care. All I knew was that we’d failed.

  One of the boats revved and came closer. Three thick-armed mercenaries pulled the coffin from the water and onto the deck.

  “Please,” I begged. “Let our parents go.”

  “Your parents?” the snake lady said. Her voice was sombre and caring, but her eyes were black and shiny and dead like a doll’s. “Oh, my darlings, I am afraid I have some terrible news.”

  She slid a hand into her life-jacket, pulled out two items and threw them into the water. They floated for a moment, glinting in the sunlight.

  Mum’s Isis amulet, splattered with blood. Dad’s glasses, smashed.

  “Your parents did not make it,” she said.

  Everything froze.

  My heart, the whole world.

  It felt as if those two items were dragging my soul with them to the bottom of the lake. Pan screamed, swearing at the snake lady and vowing revenge. I didn’t really hear. I only heard Mum’s voice in my head, the last time we’d seen her. I love you both very much.

  We’d failed her, failed them both.

  We’d lost them.

  Pan sank to her knees on the rocks. A line of spit hung from her lip. “No…”

  The boats began to drift away. Water sprayed as their engines revved, reversing them from the cove. Above, the mercenaries on the island retreated and vanished.

  “Wait,” Kit said, rising from the rocks. “We’re not taking the children?”

  “Oh, it just breaks my heart,” the snake lady replied. “But I, too, have my orders.”

  “For God’s sake, we can’t leave them here.”

  “Oh, can’t we, Dr Thorn? Can’t we? Of course we can. See, we’re doing it right now. Are you coming with us?”

  I could tell that we were somehow in danger. If Kit stayed, he was too.

  He wiped blood from his face. “I was never with you,” he said. “I just took your money.”

  Her hand shot to her chest, like she’d been stabbed in the heart. “Oh, Dr Thorn! You disappoint me. Won’t you reconsider?”

  It was clear that she didn’t really care if Kit reconsidered or not. She gave no signal to her mercenaries to wait as they steered the boats around the side of the island. And then they were gone.

  The moment the boats disappeared, Pan launched at Kit, tackling him to the rocks. She swung a punch that caught him hard on the nose.

  “I’m going to tear your head off!” she screamed.

  I pulled her away. Part of me wanted to attack Kit too, but I felt certain that something very bad was about to happen, and we needed him. He had betrayed us once, but now he’d taken our side. That was enough for me.

  “What’s going on?” I demanded.

  Blood seeped from the cut on Kit’s forehead and dribbled from his nose. He wiped it away
and grabbed his rucksack. “If you want to live, follow me.”

  Pan was about to complain, but I dragged her with me. We scrambled up the boulders to the higher ground – a plateau of scrubby plants and dry, broken rocks. I heard motors from across the island, the sound of speedboats racing away. The mercenaries were in as much of a hurry as Kit.

  “What’s happening?” I said.

  “We have to find a tether,” Kit replied. “Something strong to hold us to the ground.”

  Kit ran among the rocks, kicking over stones, cursing. He crouched by a rise of boulders and pushed one of the larger ones.

  “This will have to do,” he grunted.

  He pulled a rope from his bag and lashed it around the boulder with a series of knots. “Get over here, fast!” he barked.

  Even Pan obeyed him. “Tell us what’s going on,” she insisted.

  Kit fed the rope through his utility belt, then around mine, and tied it tight around Pan’s waist. “They didn’t just want that crystal coffin and its tablet. Once they’d taken it, they wanted to destroy the whole tomb,” he said. “To get rid of all evidence of the tablets, like I did for them at the pyramid tomb.”

  “But why? Why would they do that?”

  Kit looked at her as if he’d never thought to ask that question himself. Blood dribbled over his eyes, but this time he let it flow.

  “I don’t know for sure,” he said. “They’re covering something up, some sort of secret history. Did you ever think to ask yourself who was actually buried in that coffin? Well, neither did I. That’s where I went wrong, where I’ve been going wrong for a long time now. But maybe I can still put this right.”

  “But we’re safe, right? The snake lady’s mercenaries are gone.”

  “We’re definitely not safe,” Kit explained. “I saw several of them drive trucks to the high dam. Beyond that is a much bigger lake. That’s what they’re going to use to destroy the tomb, but it’s going to destroy everything else here too, including us.”

  “You mean… They’re going to blow up the high dam?”

  Kit pulled a single breathing tube from his utility belt. He considered it for a second, a sad smile creasing his scar. He offered the tube to Pan, who snatched it from him.

  “We’re about to get hit by a tsunami,” he said. “It will wash everything in this valley to the low dam, where the force of water will crush it against the dam wall.”

  “But… Who are these people? They can’t just blow up a dam.”

  All around us, boulders shuddered. The island jolted and I fell onto my backside. A sound like thunder echoed around the lake, rippling the water.

  Down the valley, the sky darkened.

  No, not the sky. It was a wave.

  A foaming, rolling, thirty-foot wall of water rushed towards us.

  “They just did,” Kit said.

  36

  “Brace yourselves!” Kit yelled. “Here it comes!”

  The sky grew darker as the tsunami raced closer. From high in the centre of Biga we watched the colossal wave sweep over an island further south. It gathered up boulders and tore away trees.

  Pan and Kit crouched, gripping the rope that we hoped would anchor us to Biga. I should have done the same, but I was mesmerized by the sight of the wave.

  A rush of wind knocked me back. The wave was commanding the air itself, sweeping it ahead as it carried on its path of destruction.

  We were so dead.

  “Jake, get down!”

  Pan yanked me lower. We huddled together, arms locked around each other, as the first spray of water soaked our desert suits. At the last second Kit turned and threw himself over our backs to shield us from the impact.

  And then it hit.

  It felt like I’d been struck by a train. My spine arched, my vision went black and my head thrust back so hard my teeth cracked together. Next thing I knew I was underwater. The rope snapped tight, anchoring me to the boulder. The wave was so fierce I couldn’t keep my eyes open. Something hit me. Whatever it was, it was headed for the low dam, where it would be crushed against the concrete wall.

  I managed to turn so that my back was against the wave and I could open my eyes. I saw the Temple of Isis torn from its island. Every wall and pillar, every stone of the ancient temple – the wave smashed them down like a toddler kicking over Lego.

  The rope tugged on my waist. Pan was still there, hanging on. She looked dazed, semi-conscious, but she still had Kit’s breathing tube clamped in her mouth. I grabbed the rope and reeled her in. Fighting against the water, she pulled the tube from her mouth and shoved it in mine. I sucked on its oxygen, filling my lungs.

  We had to do something. The lake beyond the high dam was massive. It would pour through the broken dam for far longer than the breathing tube would last. Anchored here, we would drown.

  Gripping the rope tighter, I tried to pull us along the line towards Kit. I couldn’t see him through the rush of water but I knew he was there, hanging on and holding his breath.

  The force was too strong. We couldn’t get to him.

  The lights on the breathing tube changed from green to red. We had one minute. We had to act.

  I reached for my utility belt and pulled out its knife to cut the rope. It meant leaving Kit, but we had no choice. We didn’t want to die here too.

  I sliced the line as hard as I could against the raging water, then again and again. Pan reached to stop me, but it was too late. The rope broke and the wave swept us away.

  It flipped us over, spun us around. We were at the mercy of the water, but we could stop ourselves from being crushed. By now, the wave would have risen higher than the dam wall. It would be flowing over the top and into the Nile. Maybe we’d survive if we got over the top too.

  We had to try.

  Pan must have realized my plan, because she did what I did.

  We kicked and kicked, thrusting ourselves up so that we shot over the top of the dam. My foot caught concrete, sending us into another spin. We plunged down and the water swept us past the dam and into the river. Lake water had flooded the Nile Valley, submerging islands, drowning villages and fields. The torrent swirled us around, thrust us to the surface for a gasp of air, sucked us back under. Up and under, up and under, flipping us around.

  Finally the level began to fall and we came to rest on a stone surface. We lay gasping, water washing over our bodies. My stomach churned and I threw up lake water. Pan lay beside me, spitting and swearing and gulping air.

  Slowly, shakily, I rose to my knees. Blood dribbled from my forehead and over my eyes; the world appeared through a crimson filter. A world of chaos.

  The town of Aswan was flooded. Water had reached halfway up every house. People stood on roofs, hollering for help. Others leaned over the sides, lifting swimmers to safety. Between the houses, tourists clung to the hulls of upturned boats. Donkeys paddled, braying. Minarets poked up from the flood, and broken power lines zapped the water, spraying sparks.

  I was looking for Mum and Dad. I prayed that they might burst to the surface, or Mum would rise up on one of the rooftops and yell at me about something or other. I turned and looked in the other direction. It was as if the wave had punched a hole right though me and torn out my insides. I was hollow, numb. It couldn’t be real. It couldn’t.

  “They’re gone, Jake,” Pan gasped. “Mum, Dad and Kit…”

  Her face crumpled and she covered it with her hands. Her whole body shook.

  My legs buckled and I slumped beside her in the water.

  We’d let them down.

  We sat in silence for what seemed like hours, huddled together crying, shivering from cold and exhaustion. I didn’t know what would happen to us and I didn’t care, as long as we stayed together. That was something, at least.

  Feluccas sailed between the houses, their captains helping children and old people from rooftops. Police boats and rescue teams threw blankets to those who were stranded. Some of the crews offered help, but we ignored them and they
sailed past.

  We couldn’t stay there. We needed a plan. A last plan.

  Another police boat drifted past. A uniformed officer called to us in Arabic. I looked to Pan and she nodded. We didn’t need to speak. We both knew what we had to do.

  I rose, still shaky on my legs, and splashed to the edge of the roof. With my last scrap of energy, I called to the police.

  “Our names are Jake and Pandora Atlas. We want to turn ourselves in.”

  37

  “Let me go over this one last time, to make sure I’m clear.”

  Captain Fazal Abbas of the Aswan Tourist Police sipped his water and then set the glass back on the floor of my cell. He flicked through his notepad, staring at the scribbled entries as if he didn’t understand his own handwriting. Behind him, a lizard scurried across the concrete wall and gobbled up a fly.

  “Your mother and father were treasure hunters,” he said.

  “I’ve told you this five times,” I replied.

  “Let us try a sixth.”

  I leaned against the wall, watching through a narrow window. The city of Aswan was still flooded, although the water had subsided. Locals waded through the streets carrying bundles of belongings on their backs. Tourist boats had been commandeered to help people to safety, and hot air balloons dropped packages of food onto soggy rooftops. Everything smelled a bit gross. I guessed the flood water had mixed up with sewage.

  “Your mother and father were kidnapped by a mysterious group,” Captain Abbas continued, “who blew up the tomb beneath the pyramids and the high dam. They then murdered your parents, and stole a” – he squinted at his notes – “a crystal coffin from a lost underwater tomb, which contained a mysterious…” He squinted more closely. “Tablet?”

  He looked up. “Is this a plot from an American movie?”

  “It’s the truth.”

  “Your sister says differently. She says your parents did those things. That you were kidnapped by them.”