Nobody's Decision

Gretchen took the last few steps with uneasy courage, glancing behind her cautiously. She met eyes--dark, dark eyes and deeply blue as well. Her foot hit the floor, and she pulled herself up into the familiar hallway. There was noise, everywhere--echoing noise. Something like voices, or screams, but muffled. She swallowed, walking slowly down the hall. She looked back and forth, but the doors on either side of her were closed. She started to rush, to almost run. She collided with a force that threw her against the wall, and she whirled around to see who had done it.

Meela passed her without a second glance. She looked hypnotized, determined. Gretchen's brow furrowed in puzzlement. Meela was naked. Perfectly naked and shimmering in an odd, unnatural way. As if she was made of gold or something. She glanced over her shoulder, smiling coyly.

"It's a dirty business," she stated placidly. Gretchen nodded. Suddenly, Meela had a dagger--a long, pointed dagger that glimmered the way she was. Her dark eyes met Gretchen's again. "Then you understand."

Meela took hold of the dagger, arching her back and raising it high before driving it hard and true into her own abdomen.

Gretchen sat up with a gasp, a thin, haunted moan in the wind sending a shiver up her spine. She shook her head dazedly, feeling a strangely cold gust of air rush past her and blow her hair all about her. She tried to swallow, but her throat felt so dry. A rotten taste lingered in her mouth as she tried to make sense of her situation. It was night. Yes, of course was. She had been dreaming. She was in the desert right now, in Hamunaptra. She was in a tent with Chamberlain, but he had fallen asleep before she had. He'd given up trying to open that--

The professer jerked out of his sleep as well, startling Gretchen. She let out a little scream that was lost in his haunting yell:

"No! You must not read from the book!"

The prostitute's eyes widened. The book. That big black cursed book Ardeth had told her to bring to him when they found it. He had called it the Book of the Dead, but...nobody was supposed to be able to read from the book. Chamberlain had told her so. He told her it was locked, and there was no way to open it. How was it open? Who had read from it...?

Gretchen followed Chamberlain's accusing eyes to O'Connell's campfire, to Evelyn and O'Connell crouched curiously over the book. The black Book of the Dead. The book she was supposed to take to Ardeth--

A strange buzzing filled her ears, and Gretchen turned her attention to the opening of the ruins, to the cliffs illuminated in the bright moonlight. She watched the black night sky brown, and she could not quite connect the occurance in her head.

"Locusts," Chamberlain whispered under his breath. She turned her gaze to his pale, fearful face.

"And that's a bad thing," she pronounced quietly. His dark eyes met hers.

"One of the Ten Plagues."

Gretchen took a breath, tearing her gaze away from the oncoming swarm to watch everyone--the Americans, Beni, Jonathan, the diggers, Evelyn, O'Connell--bolt towards the ruins. She stumbled to her feet, ready to run after them. Chamberlain's voice mocked her:

"What are you, a stalk of barley? They can't hurt you."

She gulped, whirling around to look at the man uncertainly. The insects buzzed all about them, settling on their clothes and skin and hair. Gretchen swatted them off of her, their needle-like legs sending shivers down her spine. Chamberlain pulled himself to his feet, virtually unaware of the torrent of locusts clinging to his being. She watched him walk to the campfire, a loud buzzing noise reverberating in her ear. Grimacing in disgust, she pulled a large, tan bug from the tangles of her hair, flicking it to the ground. When she glanced up, the professor was heading back to the tent, grasping the book in his trembling digits.

"What have we done?" he murmured, lowering himself to the cushions where he had been sleeping moments ago.

Gretchen's breath was coming to her unsteadily. She crawled to the back of the tent, curling up as far away from the opening as possible. What had she done? The book was in her reach; all she would have had to do was take it to Ardeth. None of this would be happening if it wasn't for her...

Her eyes narrowed suddenly. No, that wasn't true. This was certainly someone else's fault. What about Ardeth and the Med-Jai? Wasn't it their job to keep "the Creature" from coming back? If this was such a big deal, why didn't they guard the place better? And--and what about Evelyn? What was she doing messing around with it in the first place? And, for that matter, what about science? Yes, science definitely had a hand to play in this problem. If only all those snooty professors hadn't gone about giving legitimate fears the name "superstition" and making rubbish out of ancient curses. Maybe she would have put more weight on Ardeth's warning if she hadn't been brought up in a world that called all of his beliefs fallacy.

Gretchen's heart was thumping wildly, and she couldn't quite stay her breathing. If only she'd taken that damned book when she had a chance--

"Here! Hold onto this!"

Chamberlain was shoving the Book of the Dead into her arms now, his eyes urgent and fearful. He glanced over his shoulder a few sporadic times before giving her one last, serious look. He brought his finger to his lips and crawled back to the front of the tent, shouting out an Arabic curse. Gretchen stayed in the shadows as she had been instructed, gripping the book against her chest. She could hear many voices outside, and several booted footsteps and hoofbeats. Chamberlain was talking in rapid Arabic, and she couldn't quite catch the words being thrown between him and another man. She bit down on her bottom lip, her fingers drumming against the book's cover.

Gretchen closed her eyes, reasoning that the firelight outside would not reflect against her eyeballs that way. In her mind, she pictured Meela again, though she hadn't realized she had been thinking on the other woman. Meela smiled and motioned at her. Bring me the book.

Her eyes snapped open, shaking her head against the strange thought. Her gut felt cold, and she threw the book away from her. Its weight carried it barely a foot or so from her shaking form, but at least she was not holding it. The darkness of the back of the tent made her muscles tense, and she hurried to pull herself out into the night. The locusts were gone, and in their place was a hoard of Med-Jai. Gretchen breathed a personal snort; she should have known. What a reason to cower in a tent for.

Her attention was drawn sharply away, however, when Ardeth stumbled out of the ruins, dragging a body into the openness. Gretchen's breath caught, and she hung back in awe as the orange glow of torches played over Burns's face. Well, most of his face, anyway.

His eyelids sagged over empty sockets; his mouth hung open, but no tongue lolled out. Gretchen gripped the pole of the tent, her stomach twisting and her throat drying out. She squeezed her eyes shut, blocking out the nausea and desire to vomit. Her mind throbbed with a hopeful mantra: He's going to be okay, he's going to be okay, he's going to be okay ...

A hand was on her shoulder, and an impatient gaze was prodding her to look back. She met Chamberlain's worried eyes blankly.

"What are you doing out here?" he hissed. "Where is the book?"

Gretchen blinked, her middle tensing. She wanted very badly to double over. "In the tent..."

"Do you see what you have done?" another urgent demand. She could not meet Ardeth's gaze. A moment later, she realized he was not even looking at her."Who has read from the book?"

Chamberlain huffed a sigh; Gretchen figured he would take as well or worse to a scolding. "That...woman, from the other camp. Miss Carnahan."

Ardeth declined his head quickly, averting his attention to Burns. He motioned at the man sadly. "Do you see what your actions have led to?"

"I told you I didn't read from it!" the professor snapped.

Gretchen crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly cold. She felt her spine trembling, and her mind struggled to compute the vast array of sand she stared at stubbornly. She refused to look up; refused to risk catching a glimpse of the unfortunate American. She heard Chamberlain mutter something under his breath, striding briskly away from the desert chieftain. Gretchen sucked on her bottom lip, still adamant against glancing up.

An awkward hand rest on her shoulder. "Where is the book?"

Her brow furrowed; she focused on a grain of sand that appeared to be darker than all the rest. "It's in the professor's tent. He's pretty attatched to it."

She barely heard Ardeth swallow, glancing away from her face. "That much is apparent."

Despite herself, Gretchen's head jerked up, a defensive light glimmering in her puzzled eyes. "This isn't my fault!"

Ardeth looked at her, his dark eyes full of some emotion she couldn't quite discern. "I am not blaming you."

Frantic footsteps interrupted them; the group that had saught refuge in the ruins now fled from them. The desert chieftain gave her a quick, farewelling nod before walking briskly towards the frightened company.

"I told you to leave this place or die..."

So why didn't you? she demanded of herself, staring grimly at the ground again. You had your chance. O'Connell didn't want to come, but there was still Beni. You could have made it back to Cairo. You don't have to be in this mess, but I guess it's too late now.

"You refused..."

So now you're stuck. You're stuck because you're stupid. You could have gotten that book. You could have stopped this whole mess. So maybe it wasn't your job, but you still had your chance. But it's too late now, isn't it? It's too late, and this .. thing is already bringing back the Ten Plagues. You could have made it out of here.

"Now you may have killed us all."

So what now?