Chapter Five
Qena – Christmas
William Dartsmouth paced inside his hotel room. His jumbled thoughts raced through his head at light speed, nearly driving William mad as he attempted to sort them all out. What he had just seen, who he had left behind, what he would tell to the authorities, how he would escape the authorities, who he would sell the damn book to, all these thoughts gave William a pounding headache. He grasped his hair with both hands, sweat from his palms leaking onto his greasy blond hair.
'Okay, I'll leave tonight. Sell the book to the nearest curator, and live in Italy for the rest of my life.' Thought William. He stopped pacing at the thought of Italy. 'Hmm, Italian women. Not a bad thought.' His spirits picked up briefly, only to be stopped at the thought of venturing out into the streets, unguarded. He glanced down at the bed, letting his eyes rest on the gold Book of the gods, not yet read by William. Not that he could anyway.
"Well, some unlucky bugger will want it. Let him deal with Mr. Whats-its-face." He said aloud. Stuffing the book into his satchel, William also placed his handgun into his jacket.
Just as he was about to reach for the door handle, the door burst open, throwing William onto his bed. Trying furtively to catch his breath, William let his eyes travel from the floor, and up into the face of three very dark, very pissed off looking men.
Their black robes were layered over their body in such a way it made them look twice as big. William silently wondered if they also wore body armor. Scimitars dangled dangerously from low slung belts across their waists, which they rested their hands on. Travelling up to their heads, he saw tattoos, Arabic writing, right on their cheeks. The upper portion of their foreheads were covered by black turbans. They were severely not amused.
One of the men, younger looking than the other two, took a step forward, making William scramble back on the bed.
"Give me the book." He commanded, holding an outstretched hand awaiting William to hand it over.
William shook his head. "I don't know what you're talking about."
The man narrowed his eyes darkly. "You have no fathom of what you're dealing with. Give me the book, or die."
William glanced down at the man's scimitar, of which the man's hand was now resting on the hilt. Just then William remembered his gun.
He pulled it out, and shaking, cocked it. The man drew his scimitar.
"If I have to kill you for it, I shall."
William smirked. "Betcha I'm faster." But looking beyond the man, William's eyes widened, and he began to tremble, terrified.
Ardeth Bay barely had time to turn when he was hit with such a backhand, it smacked him clear across the room, and painfully into an awaiting dresser. Attempting to blink the hazy fog out of his eyes, he could almost make out what was transpiring before him.
The two other Med-jai fought against the towering mummy, hacking away at its constantly healing body, but making no visible impact. The mummy seemed amused at their tribulations, but quickly tired. Grasping one Med-jai by the throat, he threw the man out the window, and after falling five stories down, the man did not move. For the other Med-Jai, still slicing away uselessly, the mummy concentrated all his strength into punching the man's chest. The chest wall broke with a sickening snap, puncturing his heart, bringing about instant death.
The mummy turned towards William. William aimed his gun at the nearly completed mummy's face. The mummy grinned, making William shake uncontrollably.
Dartsmouth fired point black into the mummy's face. Where his cheekbone was, now contained a gaping hole. But before William could celebrate his shot, the cheekbone healed before his very eyes. Dartsmouth fired repeatedly, but the mummy methodically stalked towards him. William fired again and again, until his gun clicked.
Staring unbelievably at his gun, William screamed as the mummy reached his hands out for William's neck.
But was saved momentarily as Ardeth Bay's scimitar sliced down the mummy's back. The mummy turned, glaring at the offender, and hit Ardeth so hard across the face, the Med-Jai crumpled to the floor.
The last thing Ardeth could recall was the horrified wails of William Dartsmouth. Ardeth Bay settled into a comfortable blackness, and did not awake for a very long time.