Chapter Twenty-Eight: In Which Things Get Worse
"How big can this place be?" Quatermain grumbled as Jason tentatively led them down yet another long stone corridor lit by torches. It seemed as if they had been walking far too long… how much temple did an alien masquerading as an ancient god really need?
The mage paused to study an inscription on the sandstone wall. "Actually," he said slowly, "I don't think we're in the actual temple any more. Judging by the hieroglyphics here-"
"What do you mean, we aren't in the temple anymore?" Quatermain demanded, starting to become rather irritated. "We can't have left it- we're still inside the bloody cliff!"
His younger companion gulped nervously and wiped dust off his spectacles with the hem of his shirt. "Well, it looks like these tunnels link the temple to some old tombs…"
"They do," Mina said, raising her head a little to catch a scent on the slight draft that blew past their faces. There was a faint smell among the scent of old, dry stone- ancient decay, punctuated by a sharp odor she vaguely recognized from the last time she'd been in the Egyptology Wing of the British Museum. It was… yes, it was the natron and resinous compounds used by the ancient Egyptians to preserve the bodies of their dead. There were definitely mummies down here somewhere. Mummies meant tombs here, not temples
The hunter stopped and turned to head back. "Why are we still going in this direction then?" he asked, only to be stopped by Jason's hurried, "No!"
Quatermain frowned at the mage. "Why not?"
He shook his head firmly. "There are a couple of tombs with tunnel floors designed to be sensitive to the direction weight travels over them," he explained quickly. "They collapse if you go the wrong way- a way to keep tomb robbers from escaping with the goods. This is one of those, if the hieroglyphics on the wall are anything to go by. Look at the floor."
The hunter glanced at the dust-covered floor. Sure enough, the tracks inscribed there headed in one direction only. "I see," he said, wondering why Fisher had led them down here without mentioning that little gem of information. "So there's another exit somewhere."
"Is it likely to lead back to the temple?" Mina asked. Every moment they wasted wandering old tunnels was another in which Sawyer was being used by the Goa'uld.
Jason nodded. "Most likely, Mrs. Harker."
"Then let's go," Quatermain said. This wasn't helping Sawyer at all, nor was it stopping the cult.
Jason nodded, as eager to get out of the hot, stuffy tunnel as the others were. Without saying another word, he set off down the corridor. It wound in several directions, occasionally branching off for parts unknown. When they reached forks, Mina would stand in the entrance to the side tunnel to see if she could scent fresher air, or hear people. At no point did she pick up either, so the trio kept to the main passage.
At length the three passed a closed door leading off to their left. The vampiress paused, looking at it intently.
"What is it?" Quatermain asked.
She smiled wryly, recognizing a faint scent- alcohol and explosives, combined with a very peculiar, slightly tangy smell that she associated with one person only. "Skinner's been in the room on the other side," she replied, pushing the door open.
Only to have a set of enormous teeth snap down at her head.
OSCOSCOSCOSCOSCOSCOSC
Hmmm… this looks like a good spot…
Skinner smiled as he looked around the small storage chamber he'd discovered. It was tucked behind the room used by the cult's priests to prepare for whatever rites they theoretically ran, and contained primarily jugs of oil for the enormous lamps.
The thief smiled an unseen smile as he selected one of his last two bombs and set it gently between three of the largest jugs. As with the furnaces back in Mongolia, the oil would prove very conducive to making a nice big 'boom'. Booms were always fun. Fire, however, was not so much fun, particularly when it was being thrown by an ironclad tank-man bent on homicide. Sawyer still owed him for that… though the way things were going, it didn't look like he'd be able to collect on the debt any time soon…
Poor Sawyer- it couldn't have happened to a nicer guy. He'd miss the spunky American- no one else in the group cared much for his antics.
He sighed and slipped out of the room to search for somewhere to plant the final bomb.
Now, long as I can get outta 'ere before these things go up, I'll be just fine.
OSCOSCOSCOSCOSCOSC
Mina sprang back faster than any mortal creature had a right to move, feeling the gust of air as fanged jaws snapped shut right where her head had been a moment before
A creature- easily as large as Hyde, pushed its way through the door and into the corridor as the League members retreated. It was built rather like Jekyll's alter ego, with broad shoulders and a huge torso that narrowed down to comparatively small hips and waist. Unlike Hyde, it wore a pleated kilt-like garment of white linen and was covered in a short coat of black and brown fur. Its head was canine, with a long, slim muzzle full of sharp teeth and tall, upstanding ears that were pricked in the direction of the humans and vampire.
"Mr. Fisher…" Mina said warily. "What is that?"
Jason gulped. "Um… Well… it looks like Anubis, the God of the Dead… but… it's not a god."
"How are you so sure?" Quatermain demanded. This was probably one of the weirder things he had encountered in his long life…
"I've met gods. This isn't a god. Just trust me on this- look out!"
The three ducked as the jackal-creature swung a huge hand towards them, slashing at them with long claws.
OSCOSCOSCOSCOSCOSC
Nemo and Daria whirled, staring at Holmes in shock.
"What are you doing?" she demanded, stepping threateningly towards the detective who had his revolver trained directly on Hyde.
The beast-man leered. "Should've known you'd try and finish the job," he growled. So, the great Sherlock Holmes was going to shoot him, was he? Let him try- Hyde was fairly certain he could crush Holmes before succumbing to any bullet.
Inside Hyde's head, Jekyll was practically gibbering with fear.
But he- he wouldn't do that! the physician babbled in a panicky tone. No, he's on our side, he can't still be after us, we were pardoned!
Shut UP, Hyde told him gruffly, glaring at Holmes in a manner that practically dared him to pull the trigger.
"Mister Holmes, explain yourself!" Nemo ordered, one hand on his sword as the other gripped Daria's shoulder, holding the alien agent back. She looked livid- and was. She had trusted Holmes after all, had worked with him for months. She didn't know that Holmes had once been sent to capture Hyde for both the British police and the lawyer Gabriel Utterson. At this point, she wouldn't care that he might be acting on other orders- though Holmes was certainly one to remove a troublemaker like Hyde of his own initiative. That didn't matter to her now. All she saw was an apparent betrayal, the worst sin possible to her way of thinking, and every nerve in her Tau'ka body screamed at her to put a stop to it- now. Only the level-headed Nemo's hand on her shoulder allowed her to restrain herself. He seemed convinced there was a rational explanation for the detective's behavior, so she forced herself to stand stock-still, her body as tense as that of a falcon about to be thrown from a glove as she waited, trembling a little in fear and sheer fury. Past ally or not, with or without Nemo holding her back, if Holmes shot her mate, she would kill him, without hesitation. It was as simple as that.
"I shall do so momentarily," Holmes said calmly.
Before the others could move to stop him, he pulled the trigger.