are really into mummies. The four mummies are the most popular things in the museum.
I’m not a big mummy person. I mean, they
are
dead people, after all. Dead people who have been rotting and decaying inside tar and bandages for a few thousand years.
Okay
,
Monica
,
you can do this
, I told myself.
I gripped the edge of the heavy stone lid, braced myself, steadied my legs —
— and pushed the lid up with a groan.
To my surprise, it slid up easily.
The lid swung out of my hand and started to slide off the other side of the case.
“Nooo!” I let out a cry. I couldn’t let it crash to the floor.
I jumped and made a wild grab for it with both hands.
Missed.
And went sailing headfirst, down into the mummy case.
21
“
Ooof
.” I landed flat on my stomach on top of the mummy. I bounced once — and my face sank into the hard, smelly wrappings of the mummy’s chest.
I raised my head and let out a groan.
The mummy wrappings were dry and scratchy. My cheeks itched.
I gagged as the putrid stench from the ancient corpse rose to my nostrils. I struggled to keep my dinner down. Wave after wave of the sour odor swept over me.
I was sprawled flat on top of the mummy. It felt hard as bones beneath me. It was tiny, like a child. Its wrapped head was no bigger than a lightbulb.
The ancient gauze over the mummy’s head dipped where the eyes had been. Dried tar stained the wrappings around the neck.
The odor sickened me. I tried to close my nose and breathe out of my mouth.
Carefully, I struggled onto my side. The mummy moved beneath me.
Gross
.
I gazed up. The lid had slid only halfway off the top of the case. Dim light poured over me from the ceiling.
I worked myself to a sitting position. Then I grabbed the edge of the lid. My idea was to hold on to the lid and pull myself out.
But as I tugged, I heard a grinding sound. Stone against stone.
It took me only a second to realize the heavy lid was falling … falling into the mummy case.
I’m going to be CRUSHED
.
I swung away from the falling lid. Grabbed the side of the case with both hands. And flipped myself out.
I fell free of the case — just as the lid crashed down inside it.
The roar rocked the room.
I rolled away from the case. Stopped in front of the pyramid model.
Then I lay there on the floor for a long moment, catching my breath.
The sour, putrid odor of the mummy lingered on my clothes. It clung to the inside of the insect mask.
I grabbed at the mask. I wanted to pull it off. I wanted Halloween to be over. To be out of thismuseum where we didn’t belong. To be home safe in my house with my parents.
My parents.
That thought made me remember why I couldn’t remove the mask.
I stood up and brushed the thick dust off the front of my clothing. Then I gazed around the room.
“Peter?” I called.
My eyes swept the room, from mummy case to mummy case.
“Peter? Where are you?”
No answer.
I had a heavy feeling in the pit of my stomach.
“Peter? Come on. You’re not funny. We have to get out of here. Peter? Where are you?”
My voice grew higher and more shrill with every word.
“Peter? Please?” I cried. “Peter?”
He had disappeared.
22
I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.
I heard voices outside the gallery.
I ducked behind the pyramid and listened. I peered around the side and saw the same two dark-uniformed guards walk past the doorway. They were shaking their heads and laughing about something.
“Peter?” I called out in a tiny voice.
A second later, I heard his cry. “Got it!”
I let out a shout when his head popped up from one of the mummy cases. He raised a hand high. He waved the mummy mask in the air.
“Help me.” He stuck his hand out the side. I grabbed it and helped tug him to the floor.
He raised the mask in one hand. I squeezed it. It felt like rubber. The eyes were sunken. The wrappings around it appeared torn and stained.
“I knew it would be in here,” Peter said. He pumped his other fist
I’m not a big mummy person. I mean, they
are
dead people, after all. Dead people who have been rotting and decaying inside tar and bandages for a few thousand years.
Okay
,
Monica
,
you can do this
, I told myself.
I gripped the edge of the heavy stone lid, braced myself, steadied my legs —
— and pushed the lid up with a groan.
To my surprise, it slid up easily.
The lid swung out of my hand and started to slide off the other side of the case.
“Nooo!” I let out a cry. I couldn’t let it crash to the floor.
I jumped and made a wild grab for it with both hands.
Missed.
And went sailing headfirst, down into the mummy case.
21
“
Ooof
.” I landed flat on my stomach on top of the mummy. I bounced once — and my face sank into the hard, smelly wrappings of the mummy’s chest.
I raised my head and let out a groan.
The mummy wrappings were dry and scratchy. My cheeks itched.
I gagged as the putrid stench from the ancient corpse rose to my nostrils. I struggled to keep my dinner down. Wave after wave of the sour odor swept over me.
I was sprawled flat on top of the mummy. It felt hard as bones beneath me. It was tiny, like a child. Its wrapped head was no bigger than a lightbulb.
The ancient gauze over the mummy’s head dipped where the eyes had been. Dried tar stained the wrappings around the neck.
The odor sickened me. I tried to close my nose and breathe out of my mouth.
Carefully, I struggled onto my side. The mummy moved beneath me.
Gross
.
I gazed up. The lid had slid only halfway off the top of the case. Dim light poured over me from the ceiling.
I worked myself to a sitting position. Then I grabbed the edge of the lid. My idea was to hold on to the lid and pull myself out.
But as I tugged, I heard a grinding sound. Stone against stone.
It took me only a second to realize the heavy lid was falling … falling into the mummy case.
I’m going to be CRUSHED
.
I swung away from the falling lid. Grabbed the side of the case with both hands. And flipped myself out.
I fell free of the case — just as the lid crashed down inside it.
The roar rocked the room.
I rolled away from the case. Stopped in front of the pyramid model.
Then I lay there on the floor for a long moment, catching my breath.
The sour, putrid odor of the mummy lingered on my clothes. It clung to the inside of the insect mask.
I grabbed at the mask. I wanted to pull it off. I wanted Halloween to be over. To be out of thismuseum where we didn’t belong. To be home safe in my house with my parents.
My parents.
That thought made me remember why I couldn’t remove the mask.
I stood up and brushed the thick dust off the front of my clothing. Then I gazed around the room.
“Peter?” I called.
My eyes swept the room, from mummy case to mummy case.
“Peter? Where are you?”
No answer.
I had a heavy feeling in the pit of my stomach.
“Peter? Come on. You’re not funny. We have to get out of here. Peter? Where are you?”
My voice grew higher and more shrill with every word.
“Peter? Please?” I cried. “Peter?”
He had disappeared.
22
I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.
I heard voices outside the gallery.
I ducked behind the pyramid and listened. I peered around the side and saw the same two dark-uniformed guards walk past the doorway. They were shaking their heads and laughing about something.
“Peter?” I called out in a tiny voice.
A second later, I heard his cry. “Got it!”
I let out a shout when his head popped up from one of the mummy cases. He raised a hand high. He waved the mummy mask in the air.
“Help me.” He stuck his hand out the side. I grabbed it and helped tug him to the floor.
He raised the mask in one hand. I squeezed it. It felt like rubber. The eyes were sunken. The wrappings around it appeared torn and stained.
“I knew it would be in here,” Peter said. He pumped his other fist
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