in the air.
“You scared me to death,” I said.
“At least I found the —”
He stopped. We both heard voices. And footsteps outside the door.
The two security guards had just passed. Who was coming?
Was it Screem?
“Quick, Peter —” I shoved the mask toward his face. “Your turn. Put it on.”
He held the mask in two hands and raised it to his head. Then he hesitated.
The footsteps grew louder. Closer.
“Peter — quick!” I whispered.
“I … can’t,” he said. He twisted his face in disgust. “The mask … it’s filled with dust. Mummy dust. It — it smells like something dead.”
“I don’t care,” I said. I pushed it toward his face again. “Put it on. Hurry, Peter!”
“Ohhh.” He let out a groan. He stared into the mask. “It’s …
sick
,” he murmured.
Then he raised the mask above his head.
Just as the two security guards burst into the room.
23
Their eyes bulged and their mouths opened in alarm when they saw us.
“Hold it! Stop right there! Don’t move!” one of them shouted angrily.
“How did you kids get back here?” his partner cried.
They moved toward us quickly, hands out at their sides as if they expected a fight.
“Uh … we were at the mummy party,” I stammered. “We … couldn’t find the exit, and —”
Their boots thudded on the marble floor as they strode toward us.
“You’d better tell the truth,” one of them said. “You two are in a world of trouble.”
“Trespassing on city property is a serious crime,” his partner said.
I turned to my brother. His face was tight with fear. And then he let out a cry — and jammed the mummy mask down over his head.
A blinding flash of white light made me scream.
I shut my eyes tight, but the light didn’t fade. It grew brighter … brighter … until I felt my head was about to explode.
Then … solid darkness. Blacker than black.
Slowly, I opened my eyes. The museum room had vanished. I stared up at a cloudy sky.
It took me a long moment to realize I was stretched out on my back. I was lying on something flat and hard. Above me, the sky darkened. The clouds seemed to be coming closer and closer as if they were going to smother me.
“Peter?” My voice came out in a choked whisper.
I turned to see him close beside me. The mummy mask covered his face.
He was also on his back. I could see he was lying on some kind of wooden stretcher. “Where are we?” he murmured. “The mask …”
“The mask must have taken us here,” I said. “Every time we put on a mask, it — it —”
My words caught in my throat. I realized my hands were strapped down. I couldn’t get up from the wooden stretcher.
I couldn’t jump down.
I gazed straight ahead. Peter and I were lying between two rows of white-robed men. The two long lines of men seemed to stretch for miles.
The men were all shaved bald. Their dark heads glowed in the eerie light seeping through the clouds.
They were humming. Humming the same low note endlessly. It sounded more like a roar than music. They kept raising and bowing their heads as they hummed.
I squinted into the distance, where an orange stone building rose toward the sky. A giant sculpture of a cat stood beside the building. I could see a blue-green platform with tall flames rising behind it.
It’s an altar
, I thought.
They had one in a mummy movie Peter and I watched once
.
I gazed down from the stretcher. We were on sand. I turned — and saw a familiar shape on the horizon. A pyramid?
“Peter, I think the mummy mask took us to Egypt,” I said. “Ancient Egypt.”
He tried to sit up. But his hands were strapped down, too. “I don’t like this, Monica. Why are these bald dudes humming like that?”
“I think they’re praying,” I said.
“We have to get out of here,” Peter said.
Well, duh
.
Several white-robed bald men surrounded us. They all had deep, dark eyes. Their eyebrows had been shaved off.
Six men grabbed the sides of my stretcher and lifted
“You scared me to death,” I said.
“At least I found the —”
He stopped. We both heard voices. And footsteps outside the door.
The two security guards had just passed. Who was coming?
Was it Screem?
“Quick, Peter —” I shoved the mask toward his face. “Your turn. Put it on.”
He held the mask in two hands and raised it to his head. Then he hesitated.
The footsteps grew louder. Closer.
“Peter — quick!” I whispered.
“I … can’t,” he said. He twisted his face in disgust. “The mask … it’s filled with dust. Mummy dust. It — it smells like something dead.”
“I don’t care,” I said. I pushed it toward his face again. “Put it on. Hurry, Peter!”
“Ohhh.” He let out a groan. He stared into the mask. “It’s …
sick
,” he murmured.
Then he raised the mask above his head.
Just as the two security guards burst into the room.
23
Their eyes bulged and their mouths opened in alarm when they saw us.
“Hold it! Stop right there! Don’t move!” one of them shouted angrily.
“How did you kids get back here?” his partner cried.
They moved toward us quickly, hands out at their sides as if they expected a fight.
“Uh … we were at the mummy party,” I stammered. “We … couldn’t find the exit, and —”
Their boots thudded on the marble floor as they strode toward us.
“You’d better tell the truth,” one of them said. “You two are in a world of trouble.”
“Trespassing on city property is a serious crime,” his partner said.
I turned to my brother. His face was tight with fear. And then he let out a cry — and jammed the mummy mask down over his head.
A blinding flash of white light made me scream.
I shut my eyes tight, but the light didn’t fade. It grew brighter … brighter … until I felt my head was about to explode.
Then … solid darkness. Blacker than black.
Slowly, I opened my eyes. The museum room had vanished. I stared up at a cloudy sky.
It took me a long moment to realize I was stretched out on my back. I was lying on something flat and hard. Above me, the sky darkened. The clouds seemed to be coming closer and closer as if they were going to smother me.
“Peter?” My voice came out in a choked whisper.
I turned to see him close beside me. The mummy mask covered his face.
He was also on his back. I could see he was lying on some kind of wooden stretcher. “Where are we?” he murmured. “The mask …”
“The mask must have taken us here,” I said. “Every time we put on a mask, it — it —”
My words caught in my throat. I realized my hands were strapped down. I couldn’t get up from the wooden stretcher.
I couldn’t jump down.
I gazed straight ahead. Peter and I were lying between two rows of white-robed men. The two long lines of men seemed to stretch for miles.
The men were all shaved bald. Their dark heads glowed in the eerie light seeping through the clouds.
They were humming. Humming the same low note endlessly. It sounded more like a roar than music. They kept raising and bowing their heads as they hummed.
I squinted into the distance, where an orange stone building rose toward the sky. A giant sculpture of a cat stood beside the building. I could see a blue-green platform with tall flames rising behind it.
It’s an altar
, I thought.
They had one in a mummy movie Peter and I watched once
.
I gazed down from the stretcher. We were on sand. I turned — and saw a familiar shape on the horizon. A pyramid?
“Peter, I think the mummy mask took us to Egypt,” I said. “Ancient Egypt.”
He tried to sit up. But his hands were strapped down, too. “I don’t like this, Monica. Why are these bald dudes humming like that?”
“I think they’re praying,” I said.
“We have to get out of here,” Peter said.
Well, duh
.
Several white-robed bald men surrounded us. They all had deep, dark eyes. Their eyebrows had been shaved off.
Six men grabbed the sides of my stretcher and lifted
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