Chapter four. - The morning after.

The next morning, as the sun approached its apex it lined up perfectly to send a shaft of light shining through one of the hotel's bedroom windows, and on to the face of a sleeping adventurer. Stirring from his slumber he opened his eyes slowly. He regretted the action the minute he did it however, as the bright light caused a small implosion in his head. Immediately he snapped his eyes back shut but it did nothing to quell the loud thumping that was now taking place in his head.

"Oh," he groaned loudly as he reluctantly opened his eyes once again, and blinked in an effort to clear his vision. He might not know where he was but he knew what he was.

Rick O'Connell was hung-over.

"Oh," he groaned again as he tried to roll over and found that he couldn't. A sharp pain erupted in his neck and shot down his spine. Lifting his head slightly to see what the problem was, he was surprised when the first thing he saw was his boots, lying on the sofa. Wondering how they got there he leant forward to reach for them, but quickly found he was at a disadvantage. His feet were still in them. If the couch was where he had tried to sleep last night, he had clearly missed.

Quickly and without thinking he slid his boots off the furniture, and they landed with a thump on the floor next to the rest of him, easing the pressure of his neck as they did so.

Rick stayed lying on the floor for a few minutes as he allowed the room time to stop spinning. Eventually, very slowly and very gently, he moved to sit up and began to look around. At least it seemed he wasn't in jail, like the last time he had woken up feeling this bad.

As he looked around the room scenes from last night began to play in his head; he and Jonathan sitting at the wicker table near the window, drinking in silence; he and Jonathan both crawling across the floor he now lay on; him again on the floor, but this time with a ring in his hand, and Jonathan producing another half bottle of whiskey just as the other one ran out. Strangely enough it was just after that point that Rick's memories became hazy.

Grabbing hold of the handily placed couch Rick pulled himself first to his knees, then to his feet, groaning as each movement jarred his head.

Shakily he begun to look around. Although he had been drunk last night he had meant every word he had said, and just as soon as he could find the ring he was going to propose to Evelyn.

"Ring..." he called as he looked under the cushions on the couch/ "Here, ringy ring..." he continued as, having no joy at his own bed, he crossed to Jonathan's vacant one and began looking there.

"I've got it!" Jonathan called loudly from the bathroom, making Rick jump. "But I'll be damned if I know how to get the bugger off!"

Worried, Rick moved as fast as his hangover would allow him towards the bathroom.

Having spent most of the night too afraid to sleep, Evie also awoke late in the day. Waking with a start Evelyn lay trembling under the light cotton sheet. As she had feared her dreams had turned to nightmares, which even the morning sunshine could not dispel.

As she began to wake up she felt a great weight rest on her body. Gasping for breath, Evelyn's heart began to pound loudly.

"No," she whispered as the nightmare became reality, "Please no..."

Moving her eyes from side to side Evie could see nothing, but she could feel something all right; something she had hoped never to feel again.

She could feel large dirty hands roaming all over body, touching her skin and making her hair stand on end, and she could smell something too; death and decay.

Staring at the ceiling, unable to move, Evie's eyes went wide as she felt all of her cuts being ripped afresh.

"Rick," she managed to whimper through the pain.

A laughing voice echoed through the room.

He is not coming, it taunted.

Evie's stomach contracted at the sound of Imhotep's voice.

"He is," she argued back in a small voice. "He loves me."

Again the laughing came. How can he, it asked, when he knows not what you've done?

"But I love him!"

Ha! Imhotep spat, his face finally appearing. You are mine and that's all you'll ever be. Evelyn breathed in deeply as he slowly began to dig his fingernails into her flesh. This is what I decree.

"Rick!" Evelyn screamed loudly as the pain got too much. Imhotep smiled, his laughter only getting louder as she screamed over and over again.

Knock knock.

Evie's eyes snapped open as the sound of the door woke her. Slowly she rolled out of bed.

Crossing to the door on shaky feet, she opened it wide and was surprised to see Rick standing there. He had obviously been crying as there were deep red rings around his eyes.

"Rick?" she asked, worried as he entered the room wordlessly.

"What's...?"

"How could you?" he asked, cutting her off sharply as he spun around. Anger was now etched on his face.

"I...how..." Evie stumbled. She didn't understand what he was asking.

Suddenly and without warning Rick raised his hand and slapped Evelyn violently across the face, sending her spinning across the room. "You bitch!" he screamed. "I never want to see you again!"

Scared and hurt Evie held her face as she looked up, just in time to see him leaving the room. "But I love you," she whispered- too late.

Tears stained the pillow beneath Evelyn's head as she tossed and turned in restless sleep. Crying out her beloved's name, she eventually woke her self up for real.

Slamming the door behind him, Rick left Jonathans room and strode purposefully down the corridor. He had just spent half of the last hour struggling with Jonathan's swollen fingers. He didn't know how the diamond ring had ended up being worn by Jonathan, and to be perfectly honest he wasn't sure he wanted to know. Rick paused and removed the ring from his pocket and watched as the sun glinted on it. Evie was the only Carnahan he had any interest in wearing it.

Rick had spent the rest of the hour sprucing himself up for Evelyn; he had washed, shaved, brushed his hair and changed his shirt, all the while with Jonathan looking on and making glib comments.

"I don't know why you're so nervous," he had goaded, meeting Rick's eyes in the mirror after watching him comb his hair for the fourth time. "We've just spent the last couple of days fighting undead mummies- this should be a walk in the park."

Rick raised his eyebrows at the "we've," but didn't comment until Jonathan had finished.

"Your sister," he began, turning to face him, "has more power to hurt me than any undead mummy ever will."

Now it was Jonathan's turn to raise his eyebrows and shake his head. From were he sat he could see the considerable bruising across Rick's chest as he changed shirts yet again.

"I doubt it," he said honestly. "Evie couldn't hurt a fly."

Rick had just sighed and turned back to the mirror. There had been no point in answering; Jonathan just didn't get the romantic stuff.

To be honest Rick couldn't blame him; he hadn't understood it either. That was until he had met Evelyn.

Now as Rick stood outside Evie's room in his fresh white shirt, tanned trousers and, much to Jonathan's amusement, his pistol holders, he felt more nervous than he could ever remember being before. Sure standing on the gallows with a noose around his neck hadn't exactly been a bundle of laughs, but back then he hadn't had anything to live for- unlike now.

Taking a deep breath he rapped loudly on the door.

Terrified that she was dreaming yet again, Evelyn had lay perfectly still and waited for something to happen. When it didn't she had eventually sat up, her tired and bruised muscles complaining with various degrees of pain as she did so. Pausing as she took a deep breath to get through the pain, Evelyn gazed around the room.

She sat transfixed for a moment by the fluttering of the long white damask curtain that hung at her window. As the fabric parted she could see the sun high in the sky. The realisation that it must be at least late morning prompted her to slide from beneath the sheets and plant her feet on the surprisingly cold floor. Getting to her feet gently, she jumped as a loud noise echoed through the room.

The sound was that of someone knocking on her room's wooden outer door, and it caused her to freeze initially, but as it continued Evelyn realised that whoever it was wasn't going to give up. Grabbing her robe she made her way to the door, but then realising the heat of the day she laid the robe to one side and made her way across the floor. Gripping the brass door handle she moved to open it, just as more knocking made her jump. Opening it just a crack, she peered around the edge cautiously.

The full horror of her earlier dream came rushing back as she saw Rick standing in the hall. "Yes, what do you want?" she snapped, unable to restrain her emotions.

"Evie!" Rick couldn't help but cry back, shocked by her tone. Receiving no response the adventurer went to continue nevertheless. "I err..." he began. "No scratch that, are you ok?"

"I'm fine," Evie bluffed, "but I'm busy, so if you didn't want anything..." She tried to close the door, eager to retreat into her solitude; she didn't feel able to deal with Rick right now.

"Evie!" Rick cried again, surprised by her behaviour. "I wanted to ask you something."

"Can it wait?" she asked as she fidgeted, unnerved by his presence.

"Well not ..." Rick began.

"Ok, good. Bye," Evie didn't let him finish; taking advantage of his confusion she slammed the door shut quickly. Sighing almost with relief she leant against the door for just a second before making her way across the room.

She hated being away from Rick. To be honest there was a large part of her telling her to go back and take comfort in Rick's arms, and yet there was the part of her that just couldn't bare to have him anywhere close. Resting her head in her hands she fought the urge to sob. It was all so confusing.

Rick stood and stared at the closed door in disbelief. He couldn't believe she had done it again. He went to turn away but found he couldn't. Something was wrong. Rick knew it- he could feel it- and he was determined to find out what.

"Evie!" he shouted loudly as he begun to bang on the door again. "Evie!"

Minutes later and after receiving no response, Rick stepped back.

Realising he should have followed his instinct last night, he now knew what he had to do. There was no way Rick O'Connell was going to make the same mistake twice. Taking a couple more steps back he rushed at Evelyn's door with his shoulder firm. Slamming his body against the door, the wood around the lock and one of the hinges splintered with a loud crack.