Ch. 7: Awakening
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The pocket they had isolated this time was not so secluded, thus the digger was an efficient tool for the job. Desert stretched far in all directions as Anna and the others unpacked and set up a temporary camp. Moliere had taken his vehicle a few miles away to begin the drilling.
"According to the maps and geological structure of the cavern, we should have access within a few days," murmured Milo.
The Russian's head jolted up, her eyes boring into his. His methods and calculations bored her, and she had just been ready to drift off when he spoke again.
"English, man! Speak it. How few are we speaking of. For me, a few is two days. Will it take longer or not?" she spat.
Resting her head on her arms again, she began to drum her fingers nervously in the sand. Finding no help with this, she began to trace figures instead, their mystical images gracing the earth underneath them. The ears, then the head of a cat appeared, followed by a crude figure of a human body. Next were the ears of another animal, one which Milo was unsure about until the head of a jackal was drawn beneath them again followed by a human body.
"Uh... Tonight and tomorrow night is all. By the next day after that, we should be able to enter. What are those?"
She turned a weary face to look up at him before rising to sit cross-legged in the sand.
"The cat-faced woman is Bast or Bastet, whichever you prefer. She is the goddess of music, dance, drink, and celebration. The jackal-god is Anubis, god of death and the gatekeeper to the underworld. Both are great deities and should be honored as such. Without the two of them, there would be little order in the world. I pray to them every day to ensure our success."
Milo nodded in understanding. It was still hard for him to grasp that the Russian was so dedicated to her work, that she had fully undertaken the ancient religion. Her customs were strange, and just as he'd had to in Atlantis, he would have to be patient and learn.
"I should be going now. I don't want that Parisian pig to strike anything important."
She stood, brushing the sand from her already dirty pants and began to walk away. Before she got far, Milo called out to her.
"Hey, Anna! What's going on between you and Mole? Has he done something wrong?"
She turned, her pallid complexion making her look far fiercer by accentuating her glaring eyes.
"He has done nothing to me yet, Mr. Thatch. I begrudge him for far more than it may look, but he has done no physical or verbal disgrace. Some things run farther than words or actions. Do not delve into matters so deep. I like my privacy."
With that said, she continued to walk, leaving shallow footprints in the sand until she began to ascend a dune. It looked as though she was having trouble walking, and her feet began to sink in the soft sand, but Milo didn't dare call out. She looked angry at herself; at the world. After scrambling out of his sight, Milo sighed and turned to look at her pictures once again, only to find wind-swept sand.
"Have you found anything yet, you worthless dog?" Anna shouted down to Moliere.
"I would guard my words eef I were you! Zis is the worthless dog zat's getting you down zere in ze first place! I haf found a pocket of separate tombs… Zat good enough for you?"
The malicious grin that found its way to Anna's face startled the Parisian as she jumped down beside the machine he was sitting in. Before he could move away, her long arms had snaked their way around his shoulders, pulling him into her grip.
"You dirty little man, you've made my day!" she laughed.
It was then that she realized what she was doing and pushed back in disgust. She couldn't show him kindness! That would be unethical!
"That never happened. Continue," she growled, crawling back up to the surface.
It was not two days later that they had been able to ascend into the maze of tombs. The air was stale, and they had had to cut several ventilation holes into the ceiling; hoping against all odds that they hadn't compromised the stability of the structure.
"They are important…viziers, priests, scribes, tax collectors, and at least one lesser-concubine. We must work carefully…" muttered Anna as she scanned the walls.
Work began slowly, but stayed at a steady pace. Many of the doors to the tombs were worn so much that they needn't be forced, but there were a stubborn few that refused to yield. The fourth door had been a problem, but it was soon opened to reveal the tomb of a tax collector.
"His name was Izass; he was held in high regard of pharaoh."
The others held back at the entrance as Anna proceeded in. The smell of decay permeated the small room; much stronger than the others had been. It sickened them to watch the Russian to gently place a hand on the body in almost an affectionate way.
"Tell me your secrets…," she murmured.
Zahalm was the first to try and snap her out of her trance by tapping her on the shoulder. This was useless, so Mimi decided to give it a try.
"Anna, we have more to open."
This took the older woman out of her fantasy world long enough to reorganize her priorities.
"Yes, let's move on. We'll come back after they're all open.
The real trouble started on their third day of excavation. The fifth door was sealed tight and it took all Anna had not to ask Vinny to blow it to kingdom come. To lighten her mood, she began to whistle the Ode to Joy. The sound echoed and reverberated about the cavern.
As the team continued to move on farther away from the fourth door they failed to see a faint light glowing around the glyphs and inscriptions within the small tomb's walls. Soon, they were out of sight and had no clue as to what was being unleashed.
The body that Anna had so gently caressed twitched to life; the light morphing into flesh around the dried remains. The man that had once been a tax collector rose from his bed of sandstone and stretched. He was dark and stood just over five feet four inches. Tattoos and makeup adorned his sharp features and his eyes glowed with a pale brown color.
"The hymn has been sung… It must be time for our return," he rasped.
Quietly, he slipped out into the main cavern, looking for those that had summoned him. Seeing no one, he shirked back into the shadows and disappeared.
Since I can't literally translate anything into Egyptian, all italicized things spoken will be given as said language. Bet you didn't know the Ode to Joy would raise people from the dead, eh? Well, I don't own the song, but I wish I owned Moliere! Anyway, the plot will get better next chapter, I promise! Read and review!