Merry Christmas, those of you who celebrate it! This is my christmas present to y'all.
"Mr. Daley," the voice echoed down the hallway, "Nice of you to stop by." Larry and his crew turned around.
"Hey, Al," Larry said. It was almost a shock to him to see the gangster in full color. "How's it going?"
"Good, good," Al and his cronies approached menacingly and suddenly, Nick regretted coming with his father. "Better if you'd hand over that tablet." He nudged his gun at Larry's gut and Larry backed up to protect Nick.
"What does he want my tablet for?" Ahk whispered to Larry. Al's eyes suddenly moved to the young pharaoh. Sam felt the coolness of the tablet against his stomach beneath his shirt and his palms clammed up. As soon as one of the pistols were waved in his direction, he sprinted off. Hot on his heels was Bobby and bullets riddled the walls as Sam raced down the dark hallway and Bobby leaped down the stairs, taking them two at a time.
"Stop." Al glanced coldly at his trigger-happy goon. He turned his attention back to Ahk. "So you're that Egyptian idiot's baby brother," Al regarded him coldly. "Hand that tablet over, pill."
"Listen, Al," Larry interrupted, "We don't have it. It's lost. We don't have any idea where it is."
"Well," Al growled, "you better find it before I find that sweet broad of yours. Else that might spell trouble for her."
"Sw- Amelia?" Larry looked panicked.
"That her name?" Al turned to one of his cronies, who nodded soberly. His dark eyes flicked back to Ahk and Nick. "You two, come with me."
"What do you want with them?" Larry grabbed Nick's shoulder to stop him from following Al.
"It's a little something I like to call leverage, Daley," Al sneered. "Motivation, if you will. And if these two don't follow me right now, I'll fill the both of them so full of lead, even you won't be able to tell them from a couple number two pencils. Capish?" Larry let Nick's shoulder go and Nick glanced fearfully up at Larry.
"Go with Ahk," Larry nudged Nick forward.
"Go fetch, Mr. Daley," Al called over his shoulder to Larry. Larry rushed off. First thing was first: to find Amelia.
Lisa cringed.
"At least your costume still fits," Carmen snarled. Lisa felt ridiculous walking around in the empty mall dressed like the Statue of Liberty. Back in that year, they had each chosen to dress as something pertaining to their major. Izzy, a biochemistry major, had dressed as an amoeba. Meg, a music major, had dressed as Kiss. But Carmen, majoring in English, had dressed as a Romantic heroine, complete with the corset. "I can't breathe in!"
"Why are we doing this?" Lisa wondered aloud.
"For the fun of it!" Izzy attempted to encourage her friend with an unidentifiable accent. The fact that she was dressed as an amoeba elicited a laugh from Lisa.
"We're going to get arrested!" Lisa insisted over her laughter.
"Come on! We've got to get inside before we freeze to death out here!" Meg huddled closer to her friends. "If it comes down to prison or death by snowstorm, I choose prison. At least they have cozy blankets in jail cells!" As Izzy, Carmen, and Meg began to rush towards the museum, Lisa was left with no choice but to follow. She doubted very much that her friends could take care of themselves in the face of getting caught. Smart as they were, Lisa felt she was the only one in the group with any common sense.
"I'll go first," Lisa suggested. "Scope it out. I'll scream if there's a guard in the room, kay?"
"Sounds like a plan." Lisa hated that her three companions nodded like it made perfect sense. Why, again, she asked herself? They managed to lift her to the high window, where she somehow managed to jimmy the lock and open the window. She hoisted herself up and her friends helped her to swing her legs over the sill.
Losing her balance, Lisa toppled into the hall. Staring around her, a scream bubbled up out of her throat without her even thinking. She heard her friends whispering worriedly and meandering about outside the window, clearly conflicted.
A hand over her face cut off Lisa's yowl of surprise. The hall was alive. The women she had seen as waxworks mere hours ago were wandering about. Jane Austen and Emily Brontë wrestled on the ground, yanking on each other's hair and beating one another with their books. Jane Goodall, looking for all the world like Tarzan's Jane, jabbered with the chimps as simply as if they were human children. Georgia O'Keeffe shot annoyed glances at the mayhem all about her as she attempted to finish a painting.
Missing from this scenery were Coco Chanel and Amelia Earhart. Perhaps a few others had gone as well, but Lisa had rushed through this exhibit when she had visited earlier in the day.
Lisa heard shuffling outside and a yelp of "Sorry, Lise," through the window.
"Traitors," Lisa mumbled to herself. She readied herself to scream again as she looked up and saw that Sacajawea was sitting calmly to her right. Sally Ride defied gravity in her space suit just across the hall. To her left, a fresh-faced Joan of Arc looked on curiously. Cleopatra was shouting from her gilded throne, stomping her feet, trying to regain order in the hall. "What is happening?" Her voice shook with surprise and fear. As Sacajawea tried to speak, Lisa scowled at her. "You're dead! I don't know what those girls put in my water, but..."
"Calm down," Florence Nightingale approached with a serene glow about her. "All is well."
"No, all is certainly not well!" Lisa shouted. "I must be dreaming." Lisa pinched her arm and squeezed her eyes shut, muttering, "Wake up, wake up, wake up!" to herself.
"Please, calm down," Florence Nightingale placed a hand on her forehead. "You don't seem feverish..."
"Don't touch me!" Lisa slapped Florence Nightingale's hand away. "Get away from me!"
"Please, miss," Sacajawea said, "We will not harm you." Just outside the door were the sounds of footsteps and Sacajawea and Florence met eyes. "We have to hide her!" Roughly, Joan of Arc grabbed Lisa's arm and shoved her into Amelia Earhart's plane.
"What are you doing!"
"Quiet!" Joan hissed, climbing into the plane after Lisa and shutting both of them in. Joan proceeded to whisper in harsh, frantic French to a stunned Lisa. They peeped from the windows of the red plane and saw a group of gangsters in pinstriped suits throw a handsome Egyptian and a young boy into the room. With one final aggressive glance about, the gangsters left and slammed the door.
"Who's that?" Lisa asked.
"Capone," Joan growled, letting the both of them out of Earhart's plane.
"Would somebody mind bringing me up to speed here?" Lisa requested to nobody in particular. "What in the name of God is going on?"
"I can explain it," the Egyptian offered.
"Who are you?" Lisa glared suspiciously.
"I am Ahkmenrah, king of Egypt, and it is my tablet that is the cause of your... distress."
"Lisa Schwartz, artist from New York." Lisa shook hands with Ahkmenrah. "And you are?" The young boy accompanying Ahkmenrah looked normal, thank her lucky stars!
"Nick Daley," the kid had a benign smile. "I didn't see the statue of Liberty here earlier..."
"That's because I'm not a museum freak like these ladies." Lisa suddenly ducked as a book went flying at her head. "I'm just normal."
After being shot at by a 50-some years dead gangster with the knowledge that he would eventually be chasing you down again to obtain the stupid golden tablet under your shirt, Sam was reasonably on edge. Paranoid that he was being followed, Sam had been imagining the sound of light footsteps behind his own for the past three hallways he had walked down. Which is why, when a light, "Bonjour, monsieur!" met him as he turned right, Sam nearly jumped out of his skin.
At the end of the hallway stood a skinny little French girl in a little black dress with a red scarf around her neck.
"Coco Chanel?" Sam squinted.
"Oui, c'est mon nom. Pourriez-vous me faire la faveur sorte de me dire où exactement je suis?"
"Um... I don't... no habla Francais?" It came out a confused question. Chanel sighed dramatically and rolled her eyes as she approached.
"So it's English then?" Sam nodded, stunned. He was taken aback by her flawless grace. "I was just wondering if you would be so kind as to tell me where I am? I woke up in a hall filled with belligerent... ladies and narrowly escaped with my hair. I've been so confused and you seem to know where you're going, so..."
"We're in a museum," Sam answered.
"...I was hoping I could follow you?" Coco finished.
"Miss Chanel, I might not be the best person for you to 'follow,'" Sam admitted. "I'm kind of in a sticky situation with a bunch of thugs with guns. Who have friends with horses. And friends with swords."
"Are you now?" She raised her eyebrows skeptically.
"Seriously," Sam insisted, "Very dangerous. I wouldn't want to put you in any danger..."
"You don't care for my well-being at all," Coco began to argue when six figures appeared at the end of the hallway.
"Get down!" Sam ducked behind a display case filled with geodes. "Miss Chanel!" As some of the James-Younger gangsters trotted down the hallway, Sam grabbed Coco around the wrist and yanked her down behind the geode display with him.
"How rude!" She protested.
"Shh!" Sam held a finger to his lips and pointed at the horsemen and the guns strapped to their belts. Coco got the message but didn't hesitate to give Sam a severely dirty look. As soon as they trotted past, Coco stood and brushed herself off. "Stay down!" Sam insisted, but Coco began to trot off.
"If you're not willing to-" Coco started angrily.
"They're coming back!" Sam whispered. "Ms. Chanel, that hallway's a-"
"Hey! There they are!"
"-Dead end," Sam gulped as a bullet whizzed past his head. "Let's go! Come on, run!" Coco yelped and Sam motioned for her to follow him to the door. The two ducked behind the huge stones for as long as they could, then made a mad dash for the doors.
"Come on! Open!" Sam shouted, jiggling the locked doors. A bullet from one of the confederate thugs came to their aid and shattered one of the glass doors. Sam slammed his shoulder into the already broken glass and fell right through the door. Coco followed gingerly as the cowboys charged down the hallway after her. She helped Sam off the ground and the two disappeared into the whiteness of blizzard.
"I'll go after them," a curly-headed lady in a cowboy hat with a rifle slung over her shoulder offered, narrowing her eyes at the white blizzard. She left her horse and the other horsemen behind as she ventured into the snow after the two who had escaped.
"Godspeed, Miss Oakley."