In The Eye Of Re
Author: Erica
Setting: 1926
Two camels straggled into Cairo carrying three exhausted adventurers.
Evelyn had fallen asleep a couple hours ago, and Rick and Jonathan had
decided to let her sleep. She seemed to be recovering from her ordeal just
fine, and was eager to get back to the museum. She had expressed her grief
over the loss of the curator, knowing it was up to her to get the museum
going again. There was no telling what kind of damage it had sustained during
Imhotep's reign of terror.
Rick guided the camels into Fort Brydon and they halted with no
objection. Jonathan dismounted first and gladly handed the reins to the
capable hands of a young corporal. Rick gently handed Evie down to him and
rolled off the back of his own animal, not having the energy to climb down
right. He hit the ground with a thud and took Evie back. They tiredly walked
up the stairs to Evie and Jonathan's quarters.
Once there, Rick laid Evie on her bed and covered her with a light
sheet. Her monster of a cat leapt onto the bed and curled up next to her head
on the overstuffed pillow. O'Connell scratched behind it ears and whispered,
"Watch her for me would you, I need a nap."
Jonathan stood in the doorway and rolled his eyes. "You don't have to
whisper, she sleeps like a rock." As if to prove his point, she flipped over
with a grunt.
Jonathan and Rick went next door and immediately fell asleep.
________________________________________________________________
She sat in her favorite casaba with a well-used deck of cards. She
figured as long as she was going to be in town, she might as well get some
money, and there had been an influx of Brits and Americans while she was out
of town. Fresh meat, she thought.
A young, rich looking, British man sat across from her, and on either
side sat Americans. They were all drinking heavily, making it all the more
easy for her outwit them in poker.
"A three legged dog walks into a bar. He tells the bartender, 'I'm
looking for the man who shot my paw,'" one of the intoxicated Americans tried
to tell a joke. "Get it, shot my paw."
The Brit started giggling uncontrollably, but the American on her left
wasn't amused. "Shut-up and play, Johnson. I didn't come in here to listen
to your stupid jokes."
Johnson gave his comrade a childish dirty look. "It's your bet,
Simpson."
Simpson threw in some large bills, obviously flaunting them, and raising
the Brit's bet, after having already raised it several times. The young woman
smiled a wide white grin.
"I'll see that wager, and I call," she state throwing in her own money.
Each man slowly laid his hand on the table. Johnson reached for the generous
pot, but was stopped by a feminine slap on the wrist. "Ah, ah, ah. Not so
fast pal. Three ladies, read'em and weep."
"Hey, you cheated," a very intoxicated British accent slurred.
The young woman feigned insult, "How dare you accuse me of cheating.
You're just a sore loser. Now, if ya'll will excuse me, I have an appointment
to keep." She rose, gathering the wad of paper cash and tucked it in her
masculine shirt, where she hoped the 'gentlemen' wouldn't try to grab it.
"You can't leave, I have to win my money back. I should have known
better than to play with a Yank."
"What's that supposed to mean, you stupid Brit," Simpson stated,
knocking over his chair as he stood.
"Nothing, just that all you Yanks are the same. Cheaters."
As the argument escalated, the young woman quietly slipped away. She
was almost out of the building when a voice from the bar shouted, "Hey,
blondie," she turned around to see a man she had conned out of a fair amount
of money for a worthless artifact about two months prior.
She immediately turned and ran, screams of "get her!" followed close
behind. She twisted and turned through the bizarre trying to lose her
pursuers, but considering she was the only person in the market with a blonde
braid all the way down her back, she was hard to miss. She was running out of
places to go when she ran smack dab into a solid body.
________________________________________________________________
Evie woke up feeling very refreshed, and surprised to see that she was
in her own bed. She looked out the window and saw that there was plenty of
time left in the day. She jumped in the bath and washed her hair and the
trail dust off, then quickly dressed and headed for her brother's room.
Just as she thought, there was Jonathan, sleeping with his mouth wide
open, arm hanging off of the bed clutching a bottle three quarters full of
wine. Apparently he was too tired to really make a dent in it before he fell
asleep.
O'Connell had taken over the other side of the bed, his face flat in
the pillow. She could hear him snoring through it.
She put her hands on her hips and sighed. She almost couldn't bring
herself to wake them up.
Almost.
She walked over to the window and threw back the curtains, speaking
loudly, "Rise and shine, gentlemen. I need to go to the market."
O'Connell snorted, not making a move to get up, and Jonathan stretched,
then covered his head with a pillow. Evie frowned at them and looked around
for a way wake them up. She spotted an empty fruit bowl on the table and took
it to the adjoining washroom.
With a full bowl of water, Evelyn carefully walked back into the
bedroom, trying not to spill any. Once positioned at the foot of the bed she
took careful aim and flung the water all over her brother and her boyfriend.
Both shot up like rockets, the same expression on each face looked at
her with astonishment.
"Are you mad?" Jonathan demanded.
"What day is it?" O'Connell asked at the same time. They wiped the
sleep from their eyes and Rick stood, his body protesting the entire time.
"I'm not sure what day it is, but I need to get to the market before
sundown, and we need to get you some fresh clothes. It smells like something
died in here."
Rick frowned as he replied, "Well excuse me. The next time a walking corpse drags you off to the City of the Dead to sacrifice you, I'll just stay here and keep clean."
"Very funny, now get in there and wash you hands and face." She
snatched Jonathan's ear, "You, too."
"But, Evie, I'm tired," he wined.
"You have five minutes," she stated and walked out to wait for them.
It was no surprise when they both stepped out of the quarters combed
and cleaned in four minutes flat. Their clothes still looked rough though.
"We're going to burn those after we get you two something fresh. Now
let's go."
Reluctantly, Rick and Jonathan followed her out into the streets of
Cairo. The people didn't seem to remember chasing and trying to kill them not
seven days ago. As they walked along the street in the local market Evie
picked and chose various fruits and vegetable, and admired some fabrics.
"O'Connell, could you go over there and get some of those dates for
me," Evie asked. Grudgingly he went to get them. He stood in front of the man
behind the cart negotiating when a small blonde woman darted around the
corner and smashed into him.
She looked up at him, and when she realized whom he was her eyes widened in shock. Cries of anger behind her snapped her back to reality and she looked for somewhere to hide. Nearby a pretty woman stood looking at fabrics. On the cart was a large piece of black fabric. She snatched the cloth and draped it over her body, making her look like one of the local Arab women.
A stocky American man turned the corner. Seeing O'Connell he yelled,
"Have you seen a blonde girl, about 20, long braid, run through here!?"
Rick pointed down a street going the opposite direction.
"Thanks friend," the stranger called and took off, followed by a small
band of roughians.
After they had gone the girl threw off the cloth, and to the surprise
of Evelyn, Jonathan and Rick, she walked up to O'Connell and slammed her fist
into his jaw.
________________________________________________________________
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Two camels straggled into Cairo carrying three exhausted adventurers.
Evelyn had fallen asleep a couple hours ago, and Rick and Jonathan had
decided to let her sleep. She seemed to be recovering from her ordeal just
fine, and was eager to get back to the museum. She had expressed her grief
over the loss of the curator, knowing it was up to her to get the museum
going again. There was no telling what kind of damage it had sustained during
Imhotep's reign of terror.
Rick guided the camels into Fort Brydon and they halted with no
objection. Jonathan dismounted first and gladly handed the reins to the
capable hands of a young corporal. Rick gently handed Evie down to him and
rolled off the back of his own animal, not having the energy to climb down
right. He hit the ground with a thud and took Evie back. They tiredly walked
up the stairs to Evie and Jonathan's quarters.
Once there, Rick laid Evie on her bed and covered her with a light
sheet. Her monster of a cat leapt onto the bed and curled up next to her head
on the overstuffed pillow. O'Connell scratched behind it ears and whispered,
"Watch her for me would you, I need a nap."
Jonathan stood in the doorway and rolled his eyes. "You don't have to
whisper, she sleeps like a rock." As if to prove his point, she flipped over
with a grunt.
Jonathan and Rick went next door and immediately fell asleep.
________________________________________________________________
She sat in her favorite casaba with a well-used deck of cards. She
figured as long as she was going to be in town, she might as well get some
money, and there had been an influx of Brits and Americans while she was out
of town. Fresh meat, she thought.
A young, rich looking, British man sat across from her, and on either
side sat Americans. They were all drinking heavily, making it all the more
easy for her outwit them in poker.
"A three legged dog walks into a bar. He tells the bartender, 'I'm
looking for the man who shot my paw,'" one of the intoxicated Americans tried
to tell a joke. "Get it, shot my paw."
The Brit started giggling uncontrollably, but the American on her left
wasn't amused. "Shut-up and play, Johnson. I didn't come in here to listen
to your stupid jokes."
Johnson gave his comrade a childish dirty look. "It's your bet,
Simpson."
Simpson threw in some large bills, obviously flaunting them, and raising
the Brit's bet, after having already raised it several times. The young woman
smiled a wide white grin.
"I'll see that wager, and I call," she state throwing in her own money.
Each man slowly laid his hand on the table. Johnson reached for the generous
pot, but was stopped by a feminine slap on the wrist. "Ah, ah, ah. Not so
fast pal. Three ladies, read'em and weep."
"Hey, you cheated," a very intoxicated British accent slurred.
The young woman feigned insult, "How dare you accuse me of cheating.
You're just a sore loser. Now, if ya'll will excuse me, I have an appointment
to keep." She rose, gathering the wad of paper cash and tucked it in her
masculine shirt, where she hoped the 'gentlemen' wouldn't try to grab it.
"You can't leave, I have to win my money back. I should have known
better than to play with a Yank."
"What's that supposed to mean, you stupid Brit," Simpson stated,
knocking over his chair as he stood.
"Nothing, just that all you Yanks are the same. Cheaters."
As the argument escalated, the young woman quietly slipped away. She
was almost out of the building when a voice from the bar shouted, "Hey,
blondie," she turned around to see a man she had conned out of a fair amount
of money for a worthless artifact about two months prior.
She immediately turned and ran, screams of "get her!" followed close
behind. She twisted and turned through the bizarre trying to lose her
pursuers, but considering she was the only person in the market with a blonde
braid all the way down her back, she was hard to miss. She was running out of
places to go when she ran smack dab into a solid body.
________________________________________________________________
Evie woke up feeling very refreshed, and surprised to see that she was
in her own bed. She looked out the window and saw that there was plenty of
time left in the day. She jumped in the bath and washed her hair and the
trail dust off, then quickly dressed and headed for her brother's room.
Just as she thought, there was Jonathan, sleeping with his mouth wide
open, arm hanging off of the bed clutching a bottle three quarters full of
wine. Apparently he was too tired to really make a dent in it before he fell
asleep.
O'Connell had taken over the other side of the bed, his face flat in
the pillow. She could hear him snoring through it.
She put her hands on her hips and sighed. She almost couldn't bring
herself to wake them up.
Almost.
She walked over to the window and threw back the curtains, speaking
loudly, "Rise and shine, gentlemen. I need to go to the market."
O'Connell snorted, not making a move to get up, and Jonathan stretched,
then covered his head with a pillow. Evie frowned at them and looked around
for a way wake them up. She spotted an empty fruit bowl on the table and took
it to the adjoining washroom.
With a full bowl of water, Evelyn carefully walked back into the
bedroom, trying not to spill any. Once positioned at the foot of the bed she
took careful aim and flung the water all over her brother and her boyfriend.
Both shot up like rockets, the same expression on each face looked at
her with astonishment.
"Are you mad?" Jonathan demanded.
"What day is it?" O'Connell asked at the same time. They wiped the
sleep from their eyes and Rick stood, his body protesting the entire time.
"I'm not sure what day it is, but I need to get to the market before
sundown, and we need to get you some fresh clothes. It smells like something
died in here."
Rick frowned as he replied, "Well excuse me. The next time a walking corpse drags you off to the City of the Dead to sacrifice you, I'll just stay here and keep clean."
"Very funny, now get in there and wash you hands and face." She
snatched Jonathan's ear, "You, too."
"But, Evie, I'm tired," he wined.
"You have five minutes," she stated and walked out to wait for them.
It was no surprise when they both stepped out of the quarters combed
and cleaned in four minutes flat. Their clothes still looked rough though.
"We're going to burn those after we get you two something fresh. Now
let's go."
Reluctantly, Rick and Jonathan followed her out into the streets of
Cairo. The people didn't seem to remember chasing and trying to kill them not
seven days ago. As they walked along the street in the local market Evie
picked and chose various fruits and vegetable, and admired some fabrics.
"O'Connell, could you go over there and get some of those dates for
me," Evie asked. Grudgingly he went to get them. He stood in front of the man
behind the cart negotiating when a small blonde woman darted around the
corner and smashed into him.
She looked up at him, and when she realized whom he was her eyes widened in shock. Cries of anger behind her snapped her back to reality and she looked for somewhere to hide. Nearby a pretty woman stood looking at fabrics. On the cart was a large piece of black fabric. She snatched the cloth and draped it over her body, making her look like one of the local Arab women.
A stocky American man turned the corner. Seeing O'Connell he yelled,
"Have you seen a blonde girl, about 20, long braid, run through here!?"
Rick pointed down a street going the opposite direction.
"Thanks friend," the stranger called and took off, followed by a small
band of roughians.
After they had gone the girl threw off the cloth, and to the surprise
of Evelyn, Jonathan and Rick, she walked up to O'Connell and slammed her fist
into his jaw.
________________________________________________________________
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