Self Esteem

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with the motion picture The Mummy. That's all you, Universal Studios. And I'm not going to profit off this story, so calm down. There's no reason to sue, and you all make too much money anyway. Vultures.

AN: Big thank yous to AnnabelleLee13194, TheWinchesterAngel, kaytieorndorff, BlueEyedGunSlinger, midnight-flurry, Lucky Fannah, thatredheadedchick, Music is my Muse, Lordoftheringschick2000, danielle, whisper burning, Typhoid-Candy, Makayla, The Surface of Insanity, Lady La-sara, and pirate hero for the reviews!

Chapter 13: The Way to Memphis

Madeline slowly blinked awake, struggling to open her heavy eyelids. Her head felt like it was about to fall off. She tried to lift an arm up to rub her aching skull, but quickly found she couldn't move either one of them. One arm was pinned beneath her head, and the other was pinned beneath one huge ass rock.

In fact, her entire body was pinned beneath several huge ass rocks. This was not looking good. She did her best to move her head. It was dark and uncomfortable underneath the debris from the earthquake, and Madeline was having a difficult time breathing. There was little air where she was, and most of it was filled with dust.

Huh. This ought to be interesting. Exactly how the hell was she going to get out of this mess?

She lay still for a moment, trying to breathe, and attempting to think rationally about this whole situation. However, rational thought led her to one conclusion – she was stuck. Not exactly a helpful thing to conclude.

Then she thought she could hear something. Straining her ears, she picked up on the sound of rocks being moved from somewhere above her head. Then she heard someone call, "Madeline!"

The voice sounded vaguely like Ardeth's. Then there was a voice that sounded a lot like Jonathan. "Ardeth, old buddy, I hate to break it to you, but I don't think she can hear us."

Madeline opened her mouth to call back, but managed only a small groan and a short coughing fit. Neither of the two managed to capture the attention of the two men trying to dig her out.

The rocks were still being moved. "Madeline!" Ardeth called again.

"Here!" she forced herself to call back.

The sound of moving rocks immediately ceased. "Did you hear that?" Jonathan asked Ardeth.

Madeline rolled her eyes. "Don't stop digging!" she exclaimed.

"Bloody hell, Maddie, you've been buried alive and you're still bossy?"

"Are you all right?" Ardeth called.

"I'm fine! Just, you know… kind of stuck here, so… if you could keep going that would be great!"

Immediately she heard the rocks being moved again. After what felt like eternity, the rocks immediately above her had been moved, and she was squinting up into the flame from Jonathan's lighter. "Hell's teeth, Maddie, you look like… well, hell, actually…"

"Get that thing out of my face," she grumbled.

Ardeth reached down into the rocks and tried to lift her out of her prison. The rocks shifted slightly and slowly but surely, Ardeth managed to haul her up out of the debris. Breathless and bruised, Madeline collapsed against his chest.

"Are you sure you are all right?" Ardeth demanded, his hands grasping her arms and pulling her back so he could look into her face. Their eyes met and in the dim light from Jonathan's lighter, she saw genuine concern.

She swallowed, hard. This was… nerve wracking, if truth be told. Madeline took a deep breath and nodded. Jonathan let loose a low whistle.

"Well, now that we've rescued Maddie, I think we better be getting the hell out of here before there's an aftershock… or the whole pyramid decides to go. That would be a whole bloody lot of fun, digging ourselves out of that mess."

"You are right," Ardeth agreed. "We had best leave now. You go first with the lighter. I will help Madeline."

Well, that was sweet, she supposed, but why exactly did he think she needed helping? Ok, maybe she'd just had an enormous head splitting psychic vision, and then gotten clocked in the head by a big rock, and then buried alive, but… well, that didn't mean she couldn't walk. In silent indignation, Madeline struggled to her feet by herself, determined to prove him wrong.

Her head spun and her knees buckled. She fell forward into his waiting arms. Huh. Ok, maybe it did mean she couldn't walk. Score one for you, Mr. Med-jai man – but this isn't over.

Jonathan tottered through the fallen stones up ahead of them, his lighter weaving around in a manner that was hardly helpful. Ardeth wrapped an arm tightly around her waist and began helping her pick her way through the rock strewn chamber. Madeline was humiliated, and quite frankly, really banged up. Exactly why the hell did these little phase things that were supposed to lead her to Nitocris nearly kill her every time they happened? Didn't Nitocris need her alive for a little while? You'd think that nearly choking her with sand and crushing her with rocks would be fairly counterproductive.

This was insanity, pure and simple. Madeline felt herself blushing and was thankful for the almost complete darkness that surrounded them. The arm Ardeth had placed around her waist was sending very unnerving tingling sensations up and down her spine. Why the hell did he have to be so gorgeous, anyway? It was driving her mad – and Madeline had far too many other things driving her mad at the moment to deal with this too. This was so unfair. Most of the other Med-jai men were old and missing some of their teeth and, to be frank, pretty damn ugly. Why did he get to be different?

Stop whining, she ordered herself. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. How exactly is this inner monologue of yours helping anyone? It's not. So stop.

Easier said than done, she supposed. She was still embarrassed. This whole thing would just be a lot less mortifying if she would stop ending up on her ass. Every other day, Ardeth was helping her walk there, carrying her here… enough was enough, already! Madeline just wanted to be her freakishly strong self again!

After a long treacherous journey through the rock littered chambers and passageways of the Third Pyramid at Giza, the three of them finally found themselves outside, blinking in the bright sunlight.

"Oh god," Jonathan gasped suddenly. "Do you think my car's all right?"

Madeline rolled her eyes. Ardeth tactfully ignored him.

They made their way back to the yellow convertible, which was, much to Jonathan's relief, completely unharmed. The farther they walked, the weaker Madeline felt. She supposed that big stupid rock had gone and given her a concussion. Any minute now, she was sure she was going to collapse.

But she didn't. The three of them finally reached the car, and Ardeth helped her into the back seat. Madeline sat down rather heavily and sagged against the upholstery. The two men climbed in front. Before Jonathan could turn the key in the ignition, Ardeth asked, "Did you have another vision?"

Both men were staring at her in anticipation. It was quite humorous to see their faces, actually, but Madeline didn't really feel like laughing at the moment. "Yeah," she said shortly. "I did."

"What was it about?" he pressed her.

Madeline sighed heavily. "I don't know. Stupid ancient Egypt."

"We need to know what you saw," Ardeth pointed out. "You have to tell us, so we know where to travel next. If we don't go where Nitocris wants…"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Madeline grumbled. "I'll kick the bucket. And, as we know, that would be a tragic loss to this world, I'm sure."

Ardeth narrowed his eyes at her. "Do not say things like that. They are not funny."

Madeline was mildly surprised to hear him so serious. Not that he wasn't always serious, of course… he was actually almost always serious… but what she meant was that he was surprisingly angry that she had said what she had said. "Well… it's kind of funny," she replied.

He shook his head. "No. It's not."

"All right-y then," Jonathan intervened. "Let's just head back to my apartment, shall we? We can continue translating the hieroglyphics and interrogate Maddie and get a firm handle on things before we go traipsing off to who the bloody hell knows where. Sound like a plan?"

"Yeah. Sounds like a plan," Madeline agreed.

"Good. Off we go."

Madeline was sitting on the settee in Jonathan's sitting room, and she was starting to get annoyed. Both Jonathan and Ardeth were hovering over her, staring at her impatiently, waiting for her to explain her vision. Sighing heavily, Madeline began with, "Well first, there was this marketplace. And it was full of people."

Jonathan rolled his eyes. "That's not exactly helpful, Maddie."

"Then there was a bridge," Madeline continued, purposefully making herself sound like she was talking to second-graders. "It was over the Nile."

"Go on," Ardeth urged.

"Then there was an earthquake," Madeline went on. "It knocked the bridge down. People died."

"I have heard of this," Ardeth interrupted excitedly. "In ancient times, there was a massive earthquake that destroyed a brand new bridge. Many people were killed. It was seen as an omen from the gods that the pharaoh was not fit to rule."

"Not uncommon," Jonathan added. "Many scholars have done research that shows the ancient Egyptians often interpreted natural disasters as signs from deities, as well as many other ancient cultures."

"You know, it's funny you two should mention that," Madeline said almost thoughtfully. "Because right after the earthquake, I saw a whole herd of pissed off people demanding to see the pharaoh. Then he was talking to his sister, and she was telling him that everyone wanted to overthrow him because of the earthquake…"

"Which pharaoh was it?" Jonathan interrupted.

"I don't know… I think his sister called him Merenre…"

"Aha!" Jonathan exclaimed. "Merenre Nemtyemsaf II was thought to be Nitocris' brother!"

"Great," Madeline replied, not nearly as enthused.

"They were in a palace?" Jonathan pressed.

"Well, yeah…"

"I think we are meant to go to Memphis next," Jonathan announced. "That was where the Palace was located at the end of the Sixth Dynasty."

"That is not even that far away," Ardeth murmured.

"Well, great. I'm glad we figured that all out," Madeline muttered.

"What else have you discovered from reading the texts?" Ardeth questioned Jonathan, ignoring Madeline's grumbling.

"Well, I think I know what the last two phases represent," Jonathan replied. "See, first was the sandstorm, and the beginning of Nitocris' resurrection. Then there was the earthquake, which obviously represented the destruction of the bridge and the beginning of the end for old pharaoh Menrenre. Rather important to the rest of the story, eh?"

"Wow," Madeline said sarcastically. "That's truly fascinating."

"Have you found a way to stop it?" Ardeth demanded.

Jonathan's face fell. "Uh… that would be a no, I'm afraid."

Madeline closed her eyes and leaned back against the settee. She was exhausted. And honestly, she just wanted all this to end. Not that she wanted to die… Madeline really didn't want to die… but she didn't understand what the point of all this was. So far, the only way they had found to stop Nitocris from rising would ultimately kill Madeline. She hated to think it, but she was starting to believe that the only way they'd found was in fact the only way. It would be far better to let her die now than it would be to continue this stupid quest. The longer they let this go on, the closer they got to the end of the world.

Ardeth heaved a heavy sigh. Madeline heard the creak of an armchair as he lowered himself into it. "What are we going to do?" he murmured.

Madeline opened her eyes and glanced in his direction. He was sitting in Jonathan's prized wingback chair, his face in his hands, and his shoulders hunched dejectedly. The sight made her wonder again why Ardeth was so determined to find another way to stop the resurrection. Under any other circumstance, she was sure he would have gone ahead and offed the chosen sacrifice prematurely, but here he sat, doing his best to find another path. Why? Was it because of the great respect he had for her brother that he had spoken of during their ride to Alexandria? Or was it their sort-of friendship that kept him from taking such drastic measures? She couldn't even begin to understand what he was thinking right now.

"Cheer up, old chap," Jonathan said, attempting to bring up everyone's spirits. "We'll figure something out, I'm sure. For now, let's just get going to Memphis."

And get going they would have too, if it hadn't been for a very unpleasant turn of events. Suddenly, Jonathan's sitting room window shattered into millions of tiny yet deadly little pieces, and the sound of gunfire filled the air. Madeline dove off the settee and hit the floor, rolling underneath the piece of furniture, as Jonathan ducked down behind the small dining table, flipping it on its side to protect him from the barrage of bullets whizzing through his home. Ardeth flew out of the armchair and rolled to the other side of the room, hitting the wall and taking cover behind the side of a bookshelf.

Finally, the bullets stopped. The apartment was full of broken glass. There were bullet holes all through the walls, the woodwork, and the upholstery. All the delicate glasses sitting on top of Jonathan's bar were in smithereens. Jonathan cautiously ducked his head around the sideways table. "Everyone all right?" he called tentatively.

"Peachy," Madeline retorted.

"I am fine, thank you," Ardeth added.

The words had barely left his mouth before heavy pounding came on Jonathan's door. It sounded as if someone was trying to break it down… and in all likelihood, that was probably exactly what someone was trying to do.

Next came the smash of breaking glass from the other rooms in the apartment. Jonathan got up and raced over to the shelf Ardeth had secreted himself behind as Madeline rolled out from under the settee and stumbled over to her knapsack. Ardeth leapt to his feet and drew his swords. Madeline began frantically loading her pistols. Jonathan unlocked a cupboard on the shelf and pulled out a surprisingly large hunting rifle, which he began loading as fast as he could.

Ever since their hurried departure from Alexandria, Madeline had wondered when Luke Berkley and his pals were going to come after her again. After all, Berkley had gone through a lot of trouble to get that stupid necklace around her even stupider neck, and she sincerely doubted he'd be dense enough to leave her to her own devices when it came to the resurrection of Nitocris. He couldn't possibly expect her to willingly sacrifice herself… therefore, he would of course show up again at some point to drag her off to Memphis or some other place reeking of ancient Egyptian history. Finally, the deceivingly charming anthropologist had come to take her away, and finish what he had set out to do.

When the bedroom doors came bursting open, Madeline, Ardeth, and Jonathan were more than ready for their uninvited guests. Armed and masked men rushed the sitting room, guns waving, only to be met with an onslaught of bullets from Madeline and Jonathan. Those that didn't get shot down immediately soon lost their guns to Ardeth's lightning quick swordsmanship and were then cut down so fast it was almost embarrassing.

From her place behind the bar, Madeline plugged several of the men full of bullets. All too soon, however, she ran out of bullets. Holstering her pistols, she reached for her rifle that was sitting at her feet and opened fire once again. She took out a few more of the assailants before her rifle, like her pistols, was spent.

There were still more filing in. Madeline hastily attempted to reload. Suddenly, the rifle was knocked violently from her hands and a hard fist made crushing impact with the side of her skull. Madeline toppled sideways. Her attacker pinned her to the wall by the shoulders. "I was warned you were a fighter," a snobby British accent announced. "I must say, I'm disappointed."

Madeline blinked up at the man who had his face in hers. He had blond hair and, unfortunately, very sexy gray eyes… but he was most definitely not Luke Berkley.

"Who the hell are you?" she asked rudely.

He sneered. "A friend of a friend."

Madeline snorted. "Luke Berkley is not my friend."

The man sneered again. "A friend of an acquaintance, then."

Madeline sneered back, and then smashed her leg into his ribs. He huffed painfully and loosened his grip on her shoulders. Madeline gave him a powerful shove and sent him flying into the bar. Her hand shot out and grabbed hold of her lost rifle, which she propelled viciously into the man's face. The blow sent him sprawling to the floor.

Before she could make another move, a coarse rope was yanked tightly against her throat. Gasping for breath, Madeline stupidly dropped her rifle and attempted to pry the rope from her windpipe. Whoever was holding the rope began dragging her across the carpet towards the main door.

The air sung directly above her head, and then there was a choking, sputtering sound from behind her. Suddenly, the rope against her neck slackened, and the man who'd been strangling her collapsed to the ground by her side. Blood was seeping all through his robes.

Ardeth towered over her, sword in hand. Suddenly, another assailant charged the pair of them. Ardeth quickly went after him with his blade. Madeline crawled back to her knapsack as quickly as possible, reloaded her rifle, and once again began filling people with holes.

A few minutes later, the men stopped charging. Several bodies littered Jonathan's sitting room floor. Jonathan surveyed the mess and sighed heavily. "My apartment," he fairly moaned.

"It could have been your head," Ardeth pointed out curtly.

Jonathan snorted, obviously unimpressed by the logic. "I'll keep that in mind. Now… anyone know how to get blood out of upholstery?"

Madeline sighed heavily, rifle lying across her lap. "Think that was the last of them? You know, for now?"

"No, definitely not," Jonathan replied.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that a whole troupe of them is currently storming my bar!" Jonathan returned from where he was looking out the broken sitting room window, sounding rather indignant about the whole situation.

Ardeth was silent for a mere second before announcing, "All right, we must leave, and now. Everyone up. Gather your things, and the books, and Ajwad's research. Hurry!"

"Why is everyone around me always so bossy?" Jonathan grumbled as he rushed to gather up his bags from the journey out to Hamunaptra. Neither he nor Madeline had had any time to unpack since their return. "Really, I need to make some new friends."

The three of them scrambled around the apartment, shoving things into bags, and grabbing extra weapons and ammo. As soon as they were decently packed, Jonathan exclaimed, "All right, everyone into my bedroom! We're taking the fire escape down!"

They all rushed into Jonathan's room and dashed for the window, which was broken much like the one in the sitting room. Then they climbed through the shattered remains of the glass and raced down the fire escape.

When they finally hit the ground and made a dash for Jonathan's car, they saw one of the gunmen standing directly before the yellow convertible. To everyone's disconcertment, the man opened the hood of the car, presumably to do some damage to the engine.

"Hey!" Jonathan cried out indignantly.

The man looked up quite suddenly, obviously startled. Jonathan pulled the trigger of his giant hunting rifle, and shot the man between the eyes.

The body hit the street. Both Madeline and Ardeth turned to Jonathan in mild surprise. He smiled almost self-consciously, and then perched the rifle against his shoulder, adopting something resembling a swagger as they continued the walk to his convertible.

"No one touches my car," he announced rather cockily, just as if he were Rick O'Connell.