My Version of the Mummy

In detail

Chapter 1

The eye of Ra rose high and steady in the form of an Egyptian sun, watching all the land laid before him. Beauty etched into the very landscape, the desert, his desert the most beautiful landmark of all. Swirling flurries of golden sand dusting lightly cliff faces and piling delicately on to the ever moving dunes. He was proud and happy with the scene, little troubled with the people within it. But within the very desert that he so avidly admired a battle was raging.

French legionnaires scattered behind the protection of a ruin...ancient...real, once tall, proud and magnificent but now just a battlement for the legionnaires that cowered behind its walls. What they were cowering from was evident in the 1000 or more mass of Bedouin warriors who swiftly approached on horseback, glinting scimitars raised in the glory of their deaths. It was a sight to make any man shiver. Thousands of Arab horses charging into almost certain death but their charge was steady and defiant, a death procession.

One man looked into the deathly oncoming torrent, he was not afraid for his own life but for his sisters. They were closer than siblings could ever be seen to be, if he should die here this day this hour she would be left alone. A woman lost in the streets of Cairo. She had no money to speak of, neither of them did and the money they did have was stolen as were most of their possessions. Then the little money he had now would never get to her, she needed him as much as he needed her.

He steadied himself as the Bedouin riders neared less that 100 yards away, ground quickly covered by desert bred horses. He checked his gun running his hand along the smooth handle admiring the smoothness that he had managed to keep it at, not long now. Around him men were running to their posts, cocking their guns, shaking and sweating in fear. Captain Allonette Dumoir behind him on his high stead turned tail and ran, even abandoning his sword. Coward. He would have never trusted that man with his dog let alone to lead a small battalion into a battle with the natives.

"I guess you just got promoted" Beni wheezed, another man not to be trusted but was handy to have on your side. A weasel able to steal anything worth his fancy and acquire useful information but one who was quick to back stab you. But he was right, for once, he was in charge now. He glanced around him, so many young men who would die in this battle and truly he would feel nothing for them. Charlie had always called him a heartfelt rock as a joke but he could relate to the poor rock. Didn't feel nothing come rain or shine, empty but hard and tough. Getting attached only meant getting hurt. Every one ended up dying at some point. Their mother for example, everyone loved her, best mum in the world but then she died Charlie hadn't spoken for 2 weeks and they had stayed locked up in their room for much longer. He watched his sister cry herself to sleep every night in his arms and he wait moments later when she would inevitably scream. She had seen her die, he hadn't, Charlie had watched as her mother committed suicide. She had been unable to stop her, she had been tormented by that and sometimes still was. Ten seconds faster, a little louder. She had never gotten over it. Neither had their father. Before their mothers death he had been brill, loving, caring never a harsh word to say and always doting of his perfect daughter. But then there were the doubts, he blamed Charlie saying she had always wanted mother dead or that little bitch killed her, murderer. He vented his frustration but hitting her and beating her till she bled, he got the same. He had to fight their way out. Charlie limp in his arms with bruises blossoming over her cheeks. He would always remember every mark, every cut that their bastard of a father etched into her skin. He vented out his anger by fighting, killing those that challenged his sisters and his own survival. Right now that was the Bedouin warriors and he planned on coming out of it alive.

He scoffed at the oncoming enemy, good luck to any that comes up against him. Shouting for the legionnaires to ready themselves he, himself, shifted into a better position. "steady...steady...steady" wait till the perfect time Rick, wait till there up close "FIRE".

Guns discharged all around him covering the makeshift battlements in a light dusting of smoke. Horses from the oncoming rabble fell, toppling their riders and crushing others. Perfect, thats around 100 gone at least. Every man for himself now. He fire the rifle once more before abandoning it on the ground and, for want of a better word, ran like fuck. Quickest way to get somewhere is in a straight line, well that's just great! He jumped over a fallen column thing and pulled out his set of pistols. Firing at random riders he slowly backed up. Five bullets in each gun, aim with purpose, oh fuck this! I bloody shoot what I want to.

He kept backing up watching the warriors take down some good men with their scimitars. Shit. Ran out of bullets, time to go! He madly dashed across the inner workings of the ruins to the entrance they had found earlier, spotting Beni ahead of him looking scared and confused. Poor bugger. " Run Beni RUN!" he screamed, he owed Beni.

Beni was ahead of him, no doubt his speed helped him with run ins with the laws as well, and quickly made it to the open stone doorway. He darted inside like a fox. No, that little piece of shite. "Don't you close that door, DON'T YOU CLOSE THAT DOOR!" Too late, damn him. Rick turned around and kept running, all the time shooting behind him at any movement. He could hear horses, six of them...coming his way. He made a detour and they followed. Dammit. Guns were cocking, no time to go round. He jumped a fallen pillar using the base as a spring board. Unfortunately dropping the gun. God dammit, I seem to be using that word a lot recently. He reached for the gun but pulled his hand back as the sand was showered with bullets, better leave it then. That was my favourite gun too. He launched himself up of the floor and rand through a stone arch, he hadn't seen this part of the lost city when he made his rounds earlier. Oh well no time for sight seeing.

The horses and their respective riders were closing in the gap, guess four legs are better than two. As rick rounded the next corner he knew almost immediately that he was going to have to give up. Stopping in front of a blackened statue eroded by sand he turned and faced them. He would die facing the enemy, he would not die a coward at least Charlotte would have that. Jeeze he hadn't called her Charlotte since they were kids, please forgive me Charlotte, please. He closed his eyes waiting for the pain, the horses neighing frantically, men calling out in their Arabic tongue...then silence. Pure silence, huh, was he dead? Slowly and cautiously he opened one eye...nothing but dead ruins, then the next eye. Well that's weird but hey not complaints in this department. Maybe the statue scared them off.

Tuning in shock of his lucky escape Rick looked up at the statue. Some sort of jackal guy...did I just hear jackals barking? Must be going loopy. That was weird, very weird. Rick glanced up to the face of the statue, narrowing his eyes a little against the glare of the sun. Hum...Woah what the fuck, hey where's all this sand coming from, ahh what the hell. Rick stumbled out of the small sand storm he had just experienced. He was confused, scared and unnerved. It seemed impossible for all that sand to just, well, just rise off the ground like that. Never had he seen anything like it.

He stumbled away looking over his shoulder and saw a face, a face made out of the sand, stopped as if screaming. He swore he could hear a screaming too. Now he was scared.

He ran as fast as he could out of that place, stopping only to get some food and water, as much as he could carry. Then he ran out into the expanse of the desert. He was afraid of what could lay underneath the sand, whatever it was it must be evil...or supernatural. What was he thinking, supernatural, ha he was turning into some superstitious git. Next thing you know he'd be rambling about some undead mummy coming to haunt everyone, back from the dead.

He was certain that he could feel eyes watching him, digging into the back of his head like searing needles of red hot fire. Slowly turning around and dreading what could be watching him, Rick scanned the horizon. Five men all clad in black sat on their horses staring at him from atop the desert cliff. He could see they were heavily clad with weapons and they were staring straight at him. A single shot could still kill him at this distance so he turned and ran, listening attentively till he had managed to hide behind a dune. That was also very strange. Well here goes on getting home...

Late afternoon,

He had been walking all day, sand was in places where he had no intention of looking under this killer sun. The sky was crystal clear and deep blue, no forgiving clouds in sight. He was low on water, had no fuel for the night and no food. If this damn sun didn't kill him the freezing night would. No protection except the thin shirt, torn jacket, tight cotton pants and the blistering leather boots he wore.

Why did he agree to going to that city, the city of the dead, Hamunaptra. Oh yes he remembered now, he would of be killed otherwise. A whole battalion of rugged French soldiers against one man, even he couldn't have matched those odds. Now all those men were dead and he survived, the only one who didn't want to go searching for treasure. How quaint.

The sun was setting now and a cold chill was settling over the sand, here goes nothing. All he had to do was keep moving, keep the blood pumping and muscles working. It couldn't be that far to Cairo or some other small desert town. Even Bedouins or desert raiders. He strained his ears...no, nothing. A sudden chill was setting in now as the sun said her last goodbyes, leaving him to the mercy of her sister the moon. Shivering he pulled his ruined jacket closer around him, crossing his arms to keep it in tight. Stomping his feet as he moved, keeping his leg muscles warm. Head down closer to his body heat. Shit was it cold, so cold, so very very cold. Wait...what was that? He could of sworn that was a horses braying carried by the wind, cautiousness over came curiosity as he pulled out his good pistol that he had recovered from Hamunaptra's ruins after the fight. Holding it outstretched he stopped moving.

"Boo!" He spun round and hit the trigger, it clicked empty. Before him was a silver horse, a singular colour and extremely rare in a Arabian. He knew that horse.

"Charlie? What are you doing out here?" he said stepping back and looking more closely at the rider. She was obviously feminine, even under all the robes that covered her body. Strands of long mahogany hair escaped her hood and blew lightly in the desert wind. A black piece of cloth covered her nose and mouth and her chocolate brown eyes shone out in the dark. He could see a scimitar protruding from her robes, golden hilted, he wondered who she had stolen that off. Then he could also tell by the way the material was situated that she had a couple of belts on holding, most likely, her favourite guns and her fighting daggers. That was his sister alright.

"You weren't going to shoot me Rich were you? Because that would be bloody unfortunate considering I came all this way to fucking find you!" she said in a deathly calm voice, yes defiantly his sister alright, it sent shivers of dread up his spine.

"Umm oops" He put in with a clown like smile plastered on his face. Sometimes he really regretted ever opening his mouth. She had always said it would get him into trouble someday, well here he was in the mouth of the lion.

"Very, well at least I've found you now." She dismounted the horse and took of the packs it carried. She set them down a few feet away in a clear piece of ground and gestured for his help. He quickly complied spotting the tent back as he came over. That tent held a lot of memories; it was the same tent they had slept in for weeks after they had run away from home. The same one that they knew how to put up in the pitch dark from their time in the American mountains. The one they had carried across the ocean as they stowed away in a boat to Egypt where they would truly be free and here they were now. He unzipped the bag tipping the contents onto the sand that was now pale in the dark. I looked like new, as always.

While he had set about doing the tent, his sister was lighting a fire. Her eyes never leaving his figure. She hadn't seen him for 6 months, the longest time they had ever been apart and she had missed him greatly. She flinched as the match she lit burnt her fingers but didn't drop it and lit the fire. He was safe now, well they were both together anyways, and he wasn't leaving any time soon.

He watched her start cooking something on the fire, he'd finished the tent moments ago and was now securing the horse, not that it would ever run away. Charlotte had a thing with animals. They trusted her no matter what and they did anything she wanted them to. It was a bit weird but he was used to it now. He had been so freaked when a sparrow had delivered a letter to him one morning, she'd found it hilarious. He guessed it was one of the many things that made her who she was and he loved her for it.

He pulled himself up and sat by her side, her face in the firelight glistened. She was crying. "God Rick, I'd thought I'd lost you. You...you don't know what it was like. For months I've been trying to get any information on where you had gotten too but there was nothing. Your commander came back this morning and told me you'd probably been k...k...killed by some Bedouin warrior. Or...or by the desert sun, or something. I've been riding round this damn desert since this morning when...when he told me. I've been so worried and was praying you'd be f...f...fine, but it was there at the back of my mind nagging me what if...what if you had been..." She broke down into sudden tears and he held her. He'd never thought that it would have this effect on her. Maybe if he had he would never of gone in the first place. Here she was so vulnerable and to him it was his fault. Words wouldn't help so he just held her till she was done crying. Rocking her back and forth like he did when they were children. She looked up at him and he smiled, earning one from her in response. No reply was expected from her, they had a mutual agreement that whenever one of them broke down the other would be therefore them no questions asked. They had both broken down their fair share of times, him maybe more so. He remember the first time he had killed someone, it had tormented him for days on afterwards and she had always been there rocking him to sleep.

She turned away and continued to stir their food, soup. It was boiling merrily when she poured it into the deep bowls that she carried. It was still steaming when she handed it to him. He spooned a great deal in and nearly dropped the bowl.

"You do realise, right, that thing that come straight off a fire tend to be a smidgeon hot don't you?" She smirked at him, he scowled in reply earning a hearty laugh that lit up her face. "Dumb arse" she giggled. They went on throwing mindless sibling banter long into the night and by six the next morning were gone without a trace back to their home in Cairo.

WOW, so how do you like the first chapter? Not too much revealed in this first chappie but you will see in time and there are hints. Oh by the way you all know I don't own any characters, I'm not a slave trader, cept Charlie/Charlotte and a few others that will appear later on. Woooie that was long, please review me and tell me if you like it and any improvements.

Love Charlotte. x