CAIRO - 1935
Chuck Goodman took the shotglass and held it into the air. "To Hamunaptra, and to the wealth of Egypt!" he uttered. A middle-aged man with shoulder-length hair and a stubble beard, he raised one side of his mouth in a half-grin and tapped shotglasses with the rest of his friends at the round table.
Another one held up his glass. "Ah, the hell with Hamunaptra!" he grunted. "To the wealth of Egypt!"
"That's what I'm talkin' about!" another one agreed.
At the table next to them, two figures sitting across from each other turned and glared at the loud group. One of them turned to the other. "Americans," he grunted in disgust.
"Well, bad luck for them," the second one replied. "Unless they time their arrival to the spot, the city will never appear." Still staring at the loud bunch, he suddenly made eye contact with one of them.
Chuck stood up and glared back at Rick O'Connel. "You got a problem with us goin' to Hamunaptra?" he growled.
Jonathan took one good look at Chuck and turned to Rick. "Bad luck, chap!" he snickered.
Rick shook his head toward Chuck. "No, I really don't care!"
Chuck sneered at him. "Then mind your own damn business, 'cause we're going to the City of the Dead!"
"No, you're not," Rick snapped.
Chuck tilted his head. "Oh, we're not? And who's gonna stop us?"
"No one will. You're never gonna find it." Rick grinned.
"How do YOU know?" Chuck challenged him.
Jonathan turned his head and gave a nervous smile. "Trust me, he knows," he cackled.
"Lay off, Chuck!" one of the men at the table yelled. "Don't waste your time with a treasure hunter wannabe."
Chuck frowned at Rick. "There's nothing I hate more than a nosy American!" he roared.
Rick put his hands in the air. "I have no interest in going back to Hamunaptra."
Chuck gave Rick a curious glance. "What do you mean 'going BACK'? You've BEEN there?"
Rick nodded.
"Do you swear?" another American shouted, getting up from his seat.
Rick nodded. "Every damn day."
"??--Wait--no, that's not what I meant--"
"Yes, I know what you meant," Rick nodded again. "I was there. Trust me, you don't want to go."
"Oh, yes I do!" Chuck wheezed.
The second American sat down at Rick's table. "So tell me about it!" he queried with wide eyes.
After a brief smile, he shook his head in annoyance. "I'll be brief. On the surface is sand and stones. Underneath is nothing but acid, bugs, and dead guys who regenerate by sucking you dry."
A silence followed.
"You'd better believe him, too," Jonathan broke in. "He's seen it, and so have I."
"Oh," said Chuck, sitting down at their table. "What about the wealth of Egypt?"
Rick paused. "Oh, yeah, that's if you get past everything else."
"Oh, dear," a woman's voice called. "Making friends with treasure hunters again?" Evy O'Connel stepped toward the two tables.
"Hey, sweetheart!" Rick greeted her. "These are my friends, uh--"
"Chuck!" Chuck got up and grinned at her.
"Barney," said the second one, also getting up.
"Oh, nice to meet you," Evy greeted back. "Let me guess. Going to the City of the Dead?"
Chuck nodded. "Yeah, how did you know?"
"I didn't, but that's always the story," Evy replied, her eyes drifting toward Rick.
"And how does the story end?" Rick asked her, rhetorically.
Evy shrugged. "They get there, and all that becomes of them is sand and blood."
Rick nodded.
"Wow!" said Barney. "I never heard THAT bedtime story before!"
Suddenly, a crack of thunder boomed throughout the street.
"Dear, I think it's time to get back home," said Evy.
Rick nodded. "Yeah, I think so." He stood up. "Come along, Jonathan."
"Wait a minute!" Chuck snapped. "You're just discouraging us from going, and then you're leaving us in thought?"
Jonathan stood up. "It's for the better, I'm sure."
"Where's Alex?" Rick asked Evy as he put his arm around her hip.
"Home alone," said Evy. "I didn't want to leave him for too long, and I promised him a trip to the museum once I got back."
"Let's hope he's not already there," said Rick. He turned to his American friends. "Good luck, gentlemen."
Chuck stared at Rick in confusion. "Oh, now you're hoping we actually return?"
Rick shrugged. "Fine. Good luck staying alive. You're gonna need it."
The O'Connels turned and walked down the empty street just as the first drops of rain hit the cement.
Chuck Goodman took the shotglass and held it into the air. "To Hamunaptra, and to the wealth of Egypt!" he uttered. A middle-aged man with shoulder-length hair and a stubble beard, he raised one side of his mouth in a half-grin and tapped shotglasses with the rest of his friends at the round table.
Another one held up his glass. "Ah, the hell with Hamunaptra!" he grunted. "To the wealth of Egypt!"
"That's what I'm talkin' about!" another one agreed.
At the table next to them, two figures sitting across from each other turned and glared at the loud group. One of them turned to the other. "Americans," he grunted in disgust.
"Well, bad luck for them," the second one replied. "Unless they time their arrival to the spot, the city will never appear." Still staring at the loud bunch, he suddenly made eye contact with one of them.
Chuck stood up and glared back at Rick O'Connel. "You got a problem with us goin' to Hamunaptra?" he growled.
Jonathan took one good look at Chuck and turned to Rick. "Bad luck, chap!" he snickered.
Rick shook his head toward Chuck. "No, I really don't care!"
Chuck sneered at him. "Then mind your own damn business, 'cause we're going to the City of the Dead!"
"No, you're not," Rick snapped.
Chuck tilted his head. "Oh, we're not? And who's gonna stop us?"
"No one will. You're never gonna find it." Rick grinned.
"How do YOU know?" Chuck challenged him.
Jonathan turned his head and gave a nervous smile. "Trust me, he knows," he cackled.
"Lay off, Chuck!" one of the men at the table yelled. "Don't waste your time with a treasure hunter wannabe."
Chuck frowned at Rick. "There's nothing I hate more than a nosy American!" he roared.
Rick put his hands in the air. "I have no interest in going back to Hamunaptra."
Chuck gave Rick a curious glance. "What do you mean 'going BACK'? You've BEEN there?"
Rick nodded.
"Do you swear?" another American shouted, getting up from his seat.
Rick nodded. "Every damn day."
"??--Wait--no, that's not what I meant--"
"Yes, I know what you meant," Rick nodded again. "I was there. Trust me, you don't want to go."
"Oh, yes I do!" Chuck wheezed.
The second American sat down at Rick's table. "So tell me about it!" he queried with wide eyes.
After a brief smile, he shook his head in annoyance. "I'll be brief. On the surface is sand and stones. Underneath is nothing but acid, bugs, and dead guys who regenerate by sucking you dry."
A silence followed.
"You'd better believe him, too," Jonathan broke in. "He's seen it, and so have I."
"Oh," said Chuck, sitting down at their table. "What about the wealth of Egypt?"
Rick paused. "Oh, yeah, that's if you get past everything else."
"Oh, dear," a woman's voice called. "Making friends with treasure hunters again?" Evy O'Connel stepped toward the two tables.
"Hey, sweetheart!" Rick greeted her. "These are my friends, uh--"
"Chuck!" Chuck got up and grinned at her.
"Barney," said the second one, also getting up.
"Oh, nice to meet you," Evy greeted back. "Let me guess. Going to the City of the Dead?"
Chuck nodded. "Yeah, how did you know?"
"I didn't, but that's always the story," Evy replied, her eyes drifting toward Rick.
"And how does the story end?" Rick asked her, rhetorically.
Evy shrugged. "They get there, and all that becomes of them is sand and blood."
Rick nodded.
"Wow!" said Barney. "I never heard THAT bedtime story before!"
Suddenly, a crack of thunder boomed throughout the street.
"Dear, I think it's time to get back home," said Evy.
Rick nodded. "Yeah, I think so." He stood up. "Come along, Jonathan."
"Wait a minute!" Chuck snapped. "You're just discouraging us from going, and then you're leaving us in thought?"
Jonathan stood up. "It's for the better, I'm sure."
"Where's Alex?" Rick asked Evy as he put his arm around her hip.
"Home alone," said Evy. "I didn't want to leave him for too long, and I promised him a trip to the museum once I got back."
"Let's hope he's not already there," said Rick. He turned to his American friends. "Good luck, gentlemen."
Chuck stared at Rick in confusion. "Oh, now you're hoping we actually return?"
Rick shrugged. "Fine. Good luck staying alive. You're gonna need it."
The O'Connels turned and walked down the empty street just as the first drops of rain hit the cement.
