Moderator Note: So much for my previous promise to update often! Things went crazy. Computer crashed, lost the story, another job change, house hunting, buying my first home… life really happened! Thankfully, one of the other writers had a copy and now that life has settled again, I'm going to add a new batch at least once a week and if we receive reviews, I'll update more often.
I'd also like to mention that three of us who have been writing for The Mummy Fanfic Chain since it all began have talked many times over the years about a third Mummy Fanfic Chain and have a general plot worked out. We even have a couple entries written! If you're interested in joining as a writer, please see the profile page for details.
Hollywood Heidi (pen name JasmineHR) December 11, 2002
Evie gasped. "My library! What happened to my library?!" Evie squeezed past Rick and Ardeth running to straighten out pictures and pick up items that were laying on the ground.
"Evie, I thought I told you to stay upstairs," Rick shook his head. "Why do I even bother wasting my breath."
Evie ran to her books that were scattered here and there from being thrown off the bookcase. "Oh my precious books!" She began collecting them and lovingly placing them back in order on the shelves.
"Kinda wish they'd been taken. Damn things are a curse," Rick said under his breath.
Evie threw Rick a look that told him he was in trouble. "I heard that. It looks as if they're all still here." Evie turned her back to Rick and faced the bookcase again. A sly grin spread across her face. "That's odd." She put on a straight face and turned to face Rick. "Your metal of honor seems to be missing from it's case."
"WHAT?" Rick ran to the bookshelf and nearly knocked Evie over in his haste. It was still there. What was she talking about? Then he heard Evie caught in a fit of laughter. "Oh you're gonna pay for that!"
Evie gave a half-hearted attempt at running from him but was soon caught up in his arms laughing harder as he began to tickle her. The laughing and joking subsided and they just held each other.
Ardeth watched from the doorway smiling sadly. "It amazes me to see such affection and happiness among such chaos." He gestured with his arms referring to the mess.
Evie stepped out of Rick's embrace and walked to Ardeth placing a hand on his arm. "You miss Nefret, don't you? You know you don't have to stay and help us, Ardeth. You can go back to her. I'm sure she needs you more than we do, especially since she is with child."
Ardeth shook his head and took Evie's hand and squeezed it affectionately before letting go. "I appreciate the offer, but I am needed here. She is still in the beginning stages and besides, Gabrielle is taking good care of her." He smiled reassuringly. "When I return to her, she will most likely be past the morning sickness stages that I grow weary of being blamed for." He chuckled. "That woman has quite an arm on her. I've had to pack away the more expensive breakable things. And, of course, the solid things. Those can hurt and I have the bump on my head to prove it."
Rick laughed. "You think that's bad, just wait until the day the baby wants out. I practically had to clear an entire room of anything that wasn't nailed and tie Evie down! And the curses she sent my way." Rick shook his head and smiled at Evie. "She could have made a sailor blush!"
Evie blushed. "I did no such thing! I was perfectly calm." It was said half-heartedly because she knew as well as everyone else within a mile radius that day that Rick was right. She changed the subject from off of her not so ladylike day of behavior to the serious matter at hand. "What are we going to do about all this?"
"Don't worry about it now. We'll clean it up when we get back," Rick said. "For now, we need to get some sleep so we're not walking into things tomorrow." Rick bent down and righted the table so he could move the things that had landed on the couch onto the table. Evie sat down and Rick plopped down on the couch and gestured to the big chair. "Have a seat and we'll go over a few new plans I have."
Ardeth picked up a round-shaped dark brown wrinkled looking thing with black strands coming out of one side of it that had landed on the big chair then sat. "What in the name of Allah is this?" He turned the object over and his eyes nearly bugged out as he threw it away from him. "Was that a human head or did my eyes deceive me?"
Rick laughed. "No. Your eyes did deceive you." At Ardeth's sigh of relief Rick added, "It was a shrunken human head. But you can call him 'Lucky'." Evie lightly punched Rick in the arm.
Ardeth blanched. "He did not seem like a man who possessed any good luck."
Evie shook her head. "Alex named him. He says Lucky is his little souvenir from the good ol' days. He pocketed it while at The Oasis of Ahm Shere."
Rick shook his head remembering when Alex had proudly shown him his 'souvenir'. He had had much the same reaction. He lightly shook his head to clear it. "Okay. Let's get down to business. Here's my plan."
Penny - December 12, 2002
If any more heat came rolling out of the back seat of the Beauford, the car would probably burst into flames. For the tenth Rick glanced at his irate thirteen year old son in the rear view mirror. "No!" he told Alex. "You are not going this time. Your mom has already talked to your Aunt Maggie and you're going to stay with her till we get back. End of argument, end of discussion."
"But Dad! She's about a million years old! What do I do if she pops off?"
That earned the boy an, "ALEX!" from his mother, who sat in the front seat. "That was uncalled for."
Alex tried to look contrite but, it just didn't have the desired effect on his Mum. "Alex," she warned.
"But it's an honest question! What do I do if she decides to drop over?"
Rick shook his head at the question. "Has she got a gardener?" Evie looked suspiciously at he husband. "Yes, why?"
"There ya go, son. Just borrow a shovel. Problem solved."
"DAD!"
"RICK!"
That's when Jonathan decided to put in his two cents. "If she pops off it's probably because of the prunes. Prune juice, prune cake, prune muffins, stewed prunes, baked prunes, boiled prunes, a little nip of homemade prune...wine."
Rick scrunched up his nose. He hated prunes anyway. "Wine?"
"Wine," Jonathan confirmed with a nod in the rearview mirror. "Prune wine, if you can believe that, old chum. For eighty five years old, she does move kind of fast."
"I guess so."
"But DAD, you know I hate prunes and besides her house smells!"
"That's because of the incense she burns, Alex," Jonathan told him. Then he screwed up his bruised face and said, "When her rheumatism acts up and she can't move fast enough."
"Eeeee! MUM! DAD! Please don't make me stay with her! Look how old and wrinkled she is!"
"You are what you eat," Rick snickered, pulling into the country estate of old, smelly Pruneface herself.
"I can help you guys! I can shoot as good as you Dad. I can handle a rifle as good as Mum and Uncle John! I can..."
"ALEX, NO! You stay here! That's final, Son. HERE!"
Alex gave an exaggerated sigh, sounding a bit too melodramatic for his father, who turned up the corner of his mouth and looked at him over the back seat. "Look. I know you don't like this but, it will give your Mom and Uncle John and I some peace of mind knowing, you're at least safe with Aunt Pruneface, than right in the middle of something, that may be a lot more dangerous than mummies and really big bugs. Now, let's get your bags and get you settled."
"He wasn't very happy, I must say," Jonathan said from the back seat, an hour later.
Rick remembered how grateful he had been just to get back out into the cold fresh air, after sitting inside the Victorian style parlor. "Do you really blame him?"
His brother-in-law nodded, only he was glad for other reasons than Rick. He was more than glad he had declined a NIP of the prune wine and the prune pound cake. "No thank you my dear, sweet Auntie. Nothing for me. I've eaten already." The last thing he wanted on this trip, was what Rick had referred to as the 'Prune Two Step.' He felt bad enough, thank you very much. That indignity he'd pass on.
"Okay Sherlock," Rick glanced at his wife. "So, what have you got planned for us once we get to Egypt?" He knew when he asked, his neck was in a noose, and his butt was in the proverbial sling.
"I think the first thing we should do is go to Cairo to see if we can find out about Aswad and who knew him. Maybe they could give us some insight, as to what he was like and the people he knew."
"Ahhh, the needle in the haystack approach. That's always a good one." Sighing, he rolled his eyes. "That's what, about million people to talk to, and find out if anybody remembered this old guy?" He suddenly had a feeling this was going to be a long trip. He moaned and wished they were on the yacht. No so much because of setting sail, later this afternoon, but because there was aspirin in the galley.
From here they'd go to a long list of places and talk to any one and probably everyone Evie and Jon could corner or he, himself could tackle. All they needed was transportation to get around. Rick smiled to himself. Didn't genies have magic carpets? Yeah and he knew a certain one personally.
At six-thirty, four people boarded The WaSi and in an hour, were underway. By nine Evie had fixed a late dinner of, coffee, tea, sandwiches, pickles, and prune pound cake that Rick picked up off the table in the galley, opened a port hole and dropped in the drink. He looked at his wife's arched eye brow and in her own words offered her an apologetic, "Oops!"
To which Jonathan nodded at Ardeth with a sigh, "Thank God for that at least."
"Could have been worse Jon," Rick said critically, "She tried to give me a case of wine before we left. Said she was worried about the way you looked. You know, the accident and all."
Poor Jon turned white as a sheet. "Please tell me you declined THAT offer?"
"I just told her, we knew you were full of crap but, you didn't need it that bad," he grinned.
"THANK YOU VERY MUCH!"
"Welcome."
Later after Jonathan and Evie were asleep in their cabins, Rick and Ardeth sat in the wheelhouse. Rick stretched trying to get the stiffness out of his shoulders. "I need some coffee. What about you?"
Ardeth nodded, standing up. "Coffee would be good, I think." He turned to the door, but Rick stopped him.
"Hey, why don't you take the wheel for awhile and I'll get it. I need to stretch my legs."
Again Ardeth nodded and took Rick's vacated seat. "I'll be right back. And if I run into trouble," he grinned, "I'll jump over the side and go for help."
Ardeth could only stare at his retreating form in wonder. He shook his head at the odd statement and glanced out at the dark ocean. Rick O'Connell would forever remain a mystery.
In the galley Rick poured two steaming mugs of coffee, no cream, no sugar. In the cabinet, he pulled out a cookie jar and extracted four large sugar cookies and sat them on a plate, then put everything on a tray and headed back for the steps, when a light in an empty cabin caught his eye. "What the hell?" He sat the tray down quietly and pulled out a Colt. Since Jon and Evie's doors were shut, he had a sneaking suspicion in his gut, something smelt and it wasn't Pruneface's house! Slowly he began to creep down the hall until he stood outside the door. Through the crack he could see someone bent over, going through drawers. "Little bastard," he thought. "I got you now!" He slowly toed the door open with a boot and stood there, relishing the look on this joker's face, when he finally turned around and saw a loaded Colt staring at him. It didn't take Rick long to find out, but where he was expecting to find some hulking thug he looked into the face of a kid not much older than his son!
"Ga lee!" The five foot, seven inch, whirlwind with the shock of sun kissed, sandy brown hair, had no where to go except through this overgrown gorilla. Well like Pop always said, if you can't go over 'em, under 'em, around 'em, then you go through 'em! Problem was the gorilla had a gun. The boy put on his best glare, staring at the man in front of him. With the way his luck was running, he'd get shot in the ass before he got two feet. He might try reasoning with the big ape, but to his knowledge primates couldn't talk. So that left the other option. Pray he got lucky and was fast enough to get away. He geared his nerve. Old steel eyes grinned at him. Hell, not that good.
The next thing he knew, was two thousand pounds was on top of him, squashing him like a swamp tick. He fought to get loose screaming at the top of his lungs. "Get off me you, Saleau (dirty old man)!" That earned him a peeshnick on top of his head, with a big knuckled finger.
"My boat! MY questions!" Rick snapped and thumped him on the head again. "Who the hell are you?"
"Kiss my rosy red..." THUMP! "Hey!" THUMP! "Jerk!" THUMP, THUMP! "Bastard! Get off me!" THUMP!
"Who are you?"
"John Brown, ask me again and I'll knock you down!" THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!
The boy fought harder struggling to rid himself of the weight. "Get..." THUMP!
"WHO ARE YOU? AND DON'T MAKE ME ASK AGAIN BOY!"
"The King of..." THUMP!THUMP!THUMP!THUMP! "England." THUMP!THUMP!
"CRAP! That hurts!"
"GOOD!" Rick grinned, "I meant for it to. Break into somebody's property and expect it to hurt! Now who the hell are you?" he asked showing the kid a fist full of bony knuckles.
"You broke in first and stole my stuff! And I want it back!"
Rick looked at him like he had grown two heads. "I never stole..."
"LIAR! You broke into the safe at Papere's house and stole my dad's wallet, you bastard! I saw you!"
Rick sat back a little, but otherwise didn't move to let the kid go. "Who are you?" he asked quietly.
"Christopher Richard O'Connell O'Malley!"
Behind them at the door, there was an audible gasp. He didn't have to turn to know it was his wife and Jon.
"Charles Sonderburg was my grandfather. Now get off you bastard!"
Rick moaned when a bony knuckled fist came loose and punched him in the nose. "I knew this was gonna be a lousy day."
Shelby (pen name Eviefan) December 12, 2002
Strong Willed Stubborn boy.
Alex looked out the front window of his Aunt's house still fuming as his parents' car pulled out of the driveway. He resented them for not allowing him to go on this adventure, and was even more incensed that he had to stay with his Aunt. Alex shut his eyes when he heard her calling his name, asking him if he wanted any prune salad for dinner, and it was at that moment that the thirteen year old boy, who in his opinion was practically a man, made a reasonable decision. As fast as he could he made a phone call to a local taxi company, he was not about to stay here with Pruneface, not when he was going to miss helping his family find the answers which they sought.
Once he made his phone call, Alex walked to the parlor and found his Aunt seated in a dark burgundy velvet rocking chair drinking a crystal stemmed glass of prune wine. "Here Auntie let me get you more of that," he said, his plan already set in motion.
Not more than twenty minutes later his Auntie was out cold, mumbling something about having tea with the Queen of England on Tuesday. Satisfied that she wouldn't wake up at least until he was already on the family yacht, Alex gathered his gear, which included his air rifle, as well as a box of pellets. He knew as well as anyone that all his small round pellets could do was break the skin, but it was better than not having a weapon at all.
By the time he had all his gear together, the taxi had arrived, and after taking a few pounds from his Aunt's cookie jar in the kitchen, he left prune haven, for the smell of fresh England smog, then stepped into a musty smelling cab. "To the Docks mate," he said, a little two jolly.
The driver of the cab, a fat greasy little man gave a snort. "You sure you got money for that Junior?" he asked.
"Yes, you get me there and I'll pay you fifteen pounds," Alex said. He had taken fifty pounds, and considered that more than enough to get this guy to drive without any more hesitation, which it did.
When Alex arrived at the yacht, he found everyone skirling about the docks, and made an easy entry. He knew that he had to find a good hiding spot, and also knew that his parents would likely thump him a good one if they found him before they left, and send him back to live with the Prune Queen, and that was a fate even worse than getting thumped, at least in his opinion.
Having spent a lot of time on the yacht on family outings prior to his own adventures in Egypt, Alex knew every hiding spot there was, and decided that hiding in the row boat, harnessed to the side of the ship was his best bet at not getting discovered. Knowing that it would be a long trip, he made a quick run to the kitchen and grabbed a few apples, and a loaf of bread, figuring no one would miss it, and was about to leave when he heard his mum's voice. "Cripes, if she finds me," he said looking around. He quickly dove into a cabinet where his dad stored a few pots and pans and prayed that no one was going to use anything, then waited.
His mum had been looking for her purse, and when she found that she left, leaving Alex feeling more than a little relieved. Once he knew the coast was clear, he ran out of the kitchen, taking the far side of the ship, the side not dockside, and quickly slipped into the eight man rowboat, and promptly felt a hand slip over his mouth.
"Beat it kid, I found this place first," came a voice from a boy who couldn't be all that much older than he.
When the hand left his mouth, Alex rolled over and squinted his eyes trying to see who this person was. "This is my dad's boat, and if you want me to stay quiet you'll share," Alex said.
The young man seemed to consider this. "I'll take a guess that your no better off than me, that your old man don't want you here, and if you snitch on me, you'll be in just as much trouble. If you don't want any trouble you will find yourself another place to hide," he said, and held his fist to the boys nose for emphasis.
Having been beat up enough times in his life, Alex reluctantly left the boat, and knew he would have to risk trying to get to the one tied to the other side of the yacht. As he slipped out he realized that they were no longer at the docks, and gulped when he heard his fathers voice approaching. "Damn," he swore softly as he ran up the ship, and hid under a pile of nets.
There was at least an inch of dust under the nets, and Alex had to hold his nose in effort not to sneeze. He heard foot steps approaching, then saw a shadow of a tall man and knew it was his father. Alex shut his eyes and said a quick prayer, and for several uncomfortable moments he waited, then his father left, obviously satisfied with what ever it was he had come to this part of the yacht to find. Once the coast was clear, Alex slipped out from beneath the salty, nets, and safely made it to the other row boat. Once inside he breathed a sigh of relief, and settled in for a long cramped Journey there, satisfied that they couldn't get rid of him once they reached Egypt.
Christopher, looked at the three additional adults in front of him, and the old man who still had his big ugly hands on the front of him, then glanced about the small room he was in, trying to find a means of escape.
Rick seemed to know what the kid was thinking and threw him a warning. "Don't even think about it."
Always a fast thinker and especially of late, Chris allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction. "I suppose you wouldn't be interested to know the whereabouts of another stow away, say a little scrawny chap, whose just as ugly as you are?" he said.
Evelyn glanced at the boy, wondering if he was just trying to get them to let down their guard long enough so he could get away. "Rick why don't you let the young man go," she said.
A disapproving stare her way, let her know that her husband had no intention of letting him go, so she tried another tact. "Christopher..."
"Hey lady, no one calls me by my name unless I give them permission, and the other person aboard this ship is your kid," he said.
"Jonathan, Evelyn, go see if what he says is true," Rick said as he stood up still keeping a hold of the boys shirt as he pulled him to his feet, then pulled him to a chair, where he pushed him to a sitting position. "Now I want some answers," he said.
"You first," came Christopher's reply.
The cover over the boat he was in being pulled away, and his mothers irritated voice, calling him by his full name woke Alex fully, and he quickly got out of the ship, wondering if she would personally row him back to England.
"I don't believe you Alexander Jonathan O'Connell," she said as she grabbed a hold of his ear and began to pull him with her.
Jonathan noticed Alex's baggage and his Air Rifle and gathered that up for him, wondering if this trip could get any more bizarre, then followed his sister back to the interrogation room, interested to see how things would be handled now that added complications had arisen.
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