Mummy Madness (2 page)

The sun was relentless and their
rations were low. A dashing young man removed his sweat-stained hat and mopped his
forehead. He consulted the old map one last time. It was yellowed and crinkled but
still legible. His finger traced the route they'd taken. The dotted line
showed they'd trekked 103 miles west of the Egyptian capital. The pyramids had
been left far behind.

‘Everyone's looking
there,' he reminded his father. ‘A seething mass of tourism and tomb
robbers.'

His father's eyes sparkled with
excitement. He squinted at the map and nodded. Before they'd set off from
Cairo, they'd heard that yet another part of the Great Pyramid had been
raided. ‘They've taken
everything,' he muttered. ‘The looters are destroying ancient history.
The pharaohs knew. That's why they made the pyramids so big. The may as well
have put a sign, with a huge arrow, saying: “Jewels buried here. Break in and
help yourselves.”'

The men pored over the map one last
time. ‘Not far now,' said the younger of the two, pointing to the
picture of caves on the map. ‘The final resting place of Pharaoh Qua'a
and the
real
Egyptian treasure.'

The older man grinned, his blackened
teeth showing through his bushy beard. He'd spent fifty years exploring
Egyptian tombs with no reward. And then he'd discovered this map and the black
book that came with it. He and his son were the only two people on the planet to
know the secret of the ancients – that the pyramids were a big, fat decoy. The
pharaohs built huge pyramids to attract thieves. But all they really held were
worthless treasures that would throw the tomb robbers off the scent.

 

 

The biggest and
most precious of all Egyptian treasures was actually buried 103 miles away. Great
care had been taken to hide the Nile Ruby in the most unmemorable place imaginable.
Who would ever think of looking for the world's most precious gem in a tunnel
at the back of a cave? One hundred miles of sand and rock in every direction. Even
if people found the cave, the ancients had gone to great trouble to make sure that
the tunnel would never be discovered.

And when the
pharaoh died there was a grand ceremony in Cairo and a body was hidden in the Great
Pyramid. But, as the father and son now knew, it was
a
body. Not
the
body. Nobody had ever found Qua'a. ‘Because,' as
the old man explained, ‘the body had been secretly taken from Cairo and hauled
by camel to the caves. Only one man knew. The trusted servant, who was to die with
the pharaoh, sealing himself in from inside the tunnel. And the skeleton of that
loyal servant will still be there, guarding his master.'

The servant's only son had
inherited the map. He could neither read nor write and the map passed down through
the generations until it found itself on sale in a Cairo market.

‘Three thousand years later and
here we are,' announced the old man, pointing at the heap of grey rocks
standing out in the yellow sand. A sandstorm was whipping up around them. He licked
a finger and flipped a page in the book. ‘Exactly as described,' he
yelled through the gathering storm.

He and his son
staggered into the cave, delighted to be out of the stinging sand. It was eerily
quiet. The old man took a handkerchief from his pocket and blew out a noseful of
sand. The younger man struck a long match and cupped the light in his hand. His
father pulled a candle from his backpack and the cave was lit with an eerie glow.
Shadows danced on the cave ceiling. The men made their way to the back of the cave
and the young man stretched his arm towards the wall. ‘What is it I'm
looking for again?'

His father tapped
the black book. ‘Man with dog's head,' he reminded his son.
‘Qua'a's sign.'

The young man swished the candle across
the back of the cave. ‘Nothing,' he said, looking disappointed.
‘Wait!' he yelled. ‘What's this?' He rubbed the cave
wall with his sleeve and drew the candle nearer. He turned to his father. ‘Man
with dog's head! The legend is true. Qua'a was here!'

 

Hurtmore was what all high-security
prisons should be: tall, grey and serious. There had been several escape attempts,
but only one success. And even that hadn't lasted long: Mr Big was back inside
again and security had been upped from ‘maximum' to ‘ultra'.
The old prison chief had been replaced, as had Mr Big's bars. Spy Dog had been
consulted when they designed the ultra-security features. After all, she was the
agent who was most familiar with the workings of Mr Big's evil mind. The bars
were now twice as thick and electric fences had been erected in front of and behind
the twenty-metre-high walls. There were huge spikes on top, just to make sure. As
the prison chief had explained when Big had been recaptured, ‘Nothing's
too much trouble for you, Big.'

The world's
nastiest criminal shared a cell with an old man. The prison governor had been very
careful whom to select. Most of the officers considered the old man to be mad. He
was frail so would do Big no harm and, it was hoped, Big would see no reason to hurt
him either. And, in a strange code of conduct, the prison boss had realized that the
world's most evil criminal did observe one rule. He respected his elders.

So the odd couple shared a cell. Big
would brag about his crimes and tell tales of a nutty professor, some meddling kids
and a dratted dog. ‘Lost an eye, my teeth and a leg because of that dog. They
had to rebuild me.' He looked around at the bars on his window. ‘This
place can't hold me,' he bragged. ‘And when I'm out the dog
will be no more. “Spy Dog” they call her. “Dead dog” more
like.'

And, in return, the old man would babble
about Egypt. And mummies. And Mr Big would listen politely to the white-haired old
man, even if the story was the same every night. ‘Yes, yes,' he'd
sigh. ‘The pyramids are a decoy. And you and your dad found the
tomb … blah blah blah.'

 

 

‘And can you keep a secret?'
hissed the wizened old man, his eyes staring crazily. ‘I've worked it
out! The whole mystery is unravelled. The legend of the Nile Ruby! It's true!
I know where it is.'

‘Here you go again,' sighed
Mr Big. ‘It's written in the stars. You're a bit like a broken
record. Now don't get me wrong, old boy, you're a nice fella and all
that – remind me a bit of my own pa. He was a bit confused too. The Nile Ruby?
Egypt?' Mr Big shook his head. ‘Look around you. Check out the view
from your window. It ain't Egypt
out there. It's a maximum-security prison. And I hate to be the bearer of bad
news, but the truth is that you're stuck in here till the day you
die.'

The gale howled outside. The old man
consulted his black book once more. ‘Booby traps,' he hissed. ‘Be
very careful.' He pointed to a small rock set into the cave ceiling.

His son moved into position and handed
the candle to his father. He reached up and pushed at the jutting rock.
‘Nothing!'

‘Push harder,' urged the old
man. ‘After three thousand years it's going to be stiff.'

The young man shifted position to get a
better grip. He reached upwards and grabbed the rock. He grimaced as he heaved his
shoulders upwards. The rock disappeared into the cave ceiling and there was a
rumbling to their right. A small hole appeared. The old man was rejuvenated, almost
skipping towards the hole. He reached his hand in and felt for the lever. He pulled.
The back of the cave slid open, revealing a dark tunnel.

‘Just as
the book says,' he grinned.

They doubled their candle power. The
younger man swigged the last of his water and they entered the tunnel.

They edged along, cupping the flames
with one hand and feeling in the semi-darkness with the other. Eventually the
passage widened out and they were relieved to be able to stand up. ‘This must
be Qua'a's cave,' gasped the old man, shining his candle at the
parchment. He pressed his candle to a torch on the wall and a larger flame was lit.
Both men gawped. They were in a much bigger cave. A large tomb took centre stage,
the skeleton of Qua'a's servant sitting in a chair nearby. The cave was
full of treasures. The flames reflected off golden goblets and silver headdresses.
Gold coins were hanging from the ceiling, glinting like the night-time stars. All of
Qua'a's worldly possessions had been stored here, in readiness for the
afterlife.

 

 

The young man couldn't control his
excitement. ‘Just as it says in the book,' he yelled, his enthusiasm
bouncing off the walls. ‘Riches beyond anyone's wildest imagination! But
the Nile Ruby, the biggest treasure of them all, is in the tomb with
Qua'a.' He rushed towards the tomb.

‘No!'
shouted his father, running after him. But it was too late. The young man's
foot caught on the tripwire. He fell to the floor and the arrow fired over his head
and thudded into his father. The young man crawled over and rolled him on to his
back. The old man managed a smile and a nod. ‘The Nile Ruby … my
life's work is now your life's work,' he whispered with his last
breath.

The young man wiped away a tear and a
yell
of despair echoed round
Qua'a's cave. His father had come so far and yet was not going to see
his dream fulfilled. Qua'a's treasures had meant very little: the only
thing that mattered was the Nile Ruby and now he would never get to see it. The
young man looked down at his shaking hands and vowed that he would find the ruby and
make sure the world knew that his father had solved the mystery. Everything in the
book had been true. The pyramids were a clever trick. Qua'a, the richest and
most powerful pharaoh, was buried right here in this long-lost tomb. And, according
to the black book, the Nile Ruby was buried with him.

The skeleton appeared to be grinning.
The young man edged round the cave, making sure there were no more wires. He
carefully removed the grinning skeleton from its chair and sent his foot crashing
through the seat. He chose the longest and strongest length of wood and slid it
under the lid of the coffin. The young man heaved. The stone moved just a little and
the skeleton guard seemed to grin even more. He wished his father could be there to
help, but he somehow summoned the strength of two men and the lid of the tomb
gradually slid to one side. He fell to
his knees, his chest heaving, sweat pouring. He grabbed the candle and, bathed in
golden light, he rose to his feet. He lowered the candle into the coffin and peered
inside.

‘Found you!' he gasped, his
eyes focusing on the bandaged body of Qua'a. Time had blackened the bandages.
His arms swept through the coffin, his eyes searching for the Nile Ruby.
Nothing!
He scrambled into the crypt and carefully lifted the mummified
body out.
Still nothing.
‘It's an empty tomb!'

He looked at his father's body
lying on the floor. ‘The legend was wrong!' he yelled, tears streaming
down his face. ‘The pharaoh was buried
without
his most precious
jewel.'