it off the sand. Their arm muscles rippled.They didn’t look at us. They stared straight ahead at the huge cat sculpture.
The drone of voices grew louder. It sounded like a million buzzing bees.
The men hoisted our stretchers onto their shoulders and began carrying us between the endless lines of white-robed Egyptians.
“Let us down!” I cried. “Can you understand me? Let us down!” I tugged at the straps over my wrists.
They moved slowly, steadily, eyes straight ahead.
“Let us down!” I screamed again.
The sky grew even darker. I squinted through the dim light to the fiery altar in front of the wall. Two men in tall white hats stood together, waiting for us. Their robes were bright blue. They had huge red jewels hanging around their necks.
“Priests,” I muttered.
The hum of the deep note rang in my ears. I wanted to cover my ears. To shut out the frightening sound.
Face after face swept by.
Their eyes followed Peter and me as we bounced past them, strapped to the wooden stretchers.
I smelled something strong. I took a deep breath. Another. A sharp odor filled my nose.
It took me a few seconds to recognize it.
Tar.
The drone of the deep voices made me want to scream. The faces rolled past, so solemn, the eyes so blank.
The two blue-robed priests stepped forward as Peter and I came near. Their cone-shaped hats pointed straight up to the sky.
The tar smell brought tears to my eyes.
I turned and spotted something at the side of the altar.
It was an enormous round cauldron. Like one of those big cooking pots that witches always have, only five times as big.
Inside it, I could see the tar bubbling. Yes. Steaming hot tar.
Peter and I were being carried to a cauldron of boiling tar.
“Oh, nooooo.” A moan escaped my throat. My whole body shuddered in terror.
Because suddenly, every horror movie … every mummy movie I’d ever seen … came back to me. And I knew why we were being carried through this ancient Egyptian temple.
We were about to be mummified … mummified
alive
.
24
As we came closer, I could hear the fire crackling behind the altar. I saw piles of cloth at one corner of the platform. Cloth to cover the tar? Cloth to cover our tarred bodies?
My panic made everything a blur. The altar … the two waiting priests … the jewels around their necks … the rows of humming men …
The cauldron made a popping sound. I saw a wave of steaming tar roll across its surface.
I turned to Peter. Did he realize what was about to happen?
I couldn’t see his face. It was hidden beneath the mummy mask. The evil mummy mask had brought us here. Brought us to this horror.
The humming faded behind us. The crackle of the fire grew louder.
We moved into the shadow of the tall cat sculpture. Up close, the cat looked like a wild creature. More like a tiger than a cat.
The priests stepped forward. Their robes rustled as they walked.
Our stretchers came to a sharp stop. The men released the wrist straps. They began to lower Peter and me to the sand.
I struggled to stop my brain from whirring. I needed to think straight. How could we escape this?
I couldn’t think of a thing.
I watched as two men lifted Peter off his stretcher. They set him on his feet. They held his arms and forced him toward the priests.
Peter squirmed and struggled. He tried to twist out of their grasp. But the men were too strong for him.
“Monica! Help me!” Peter wailed. His eyes were on the cauldron of tar. He knew what was about to happen to us.
“Monica! Don’t let them!” he screamed. “Don’t let them!”
The priests led the way to the cauldron.
A hush fell over the temple. The long lines of worshippers grew silent. So silent I could hear the rush of wind over the desert sands.
The two men held Peter in place.
He kicked one of them hard in the ankle. But the man didn’t cry out or move or react in any way.
Peter squirmed and twisted. The men held on tightly.
The priests stepped up to the boiling tar
The drone of voices grew louder. It sounded like a million buzzing bees.
The men hoisted our stretchers onto their shoulders and began carrying us between the endless lines of white-robed Egyptians.
“Let us down!” I cried. “Can you understand me? Let us down!” I tugged at the straps over my wrists.
They moved slowly, steadily, eyes straight ahead.
“Let us down!” I screamed again.
The sky grew even darker. I squinted through the dim light to the fiery altar in front of the wall. Two men in tall white hats stood together, waiting for us. Their robes were bright blue. They had huge red jewels hanging around their necks.
“Priests,” I muttered.
The hum of the deep note rang in my ears. I wanted to cover my ears. To shut out the frightening sound.
Face after face swept by.
Their eyes followed Peter and me as we bounced past them, strapped to the wooden stretchers.
I smelled something strong. I took a deep breath. Another. A sharp odor filled my nose.
It took me a few seconds to recognize it.
Tar.
The drone of the deep voices made me want to scream. The faces rolled past, so solemn, the eyes so blank.
The two blue-robed priests stepped forward as Peter and I came near. Their cone-shaped hats pointed straight up to the sky.
The tar smell brought tears to my eyes.
I turned and spotted something at the side of the altar.
It was an enormous round cauldron. Like one of those big cooking pots that witches always have, only five times as big.
Inside it, I could see the tar bubbling. Yes. Steaming hot tar.
Peter and I were being carried to a cauldron of boiling tar.
“Oh, nooooo.” A moan escaped my throat. My whole body shuddered in terror.
Because suddenly, every horror movie … every mummy movie I’d ever seen … came back to me. And I knew why we were being carried through this ancient Egyptian temple.
We were about to be mummified … mummified
alive
.
24
As we came closer, I could hear the fire crackling behind the altar. I saw piles of cloth at one corner of the platform. Cloth to cover the tar? Cloth to cover our tarred bodies?
My panic made everything a blur. The altar … the two waiting priests … the jewels around their necks … the rows of humming men …
The cauldron made a popping sound. I saw a wave of steaming tar roll across its surface.
I turned to Peter. Did he realize what was about to happen?
I couldn’t see his face. It was hidden beneath the mummy mask. The evil mummy mask had brought us here. Brought us to this horror.
The humming faded behind us. The crackle of the fire grew louder.
We moved into the shadow of the tall cat sculpture. Up close, the cat looked like a wild creature. More like a tiger than a cat.
The priests stepped forward. Their robes rustled as they walked.
Our stretchers came to a sharp stop. The men released the wrist straps. They began to lower Peter and me to the sand.
I struggled to stop my brain from whirring. I needed to think straight. How could we escape this?
I couldn’t think of a thing.
I watched as two men lifted Peter off his stretcher. They set him on his feet. They held his arms and forced him toward the priests.
Peter squirmed and struggled. He tried to twist out of their grasp. But the men were too strong for him.
“Monica! Help me!” Peter wailed. His eyes were on the cauldron of tar. He knew what was about to happen to us.
“Monica! Don’t let them!” he screamed. “Don’t let them!”
The priests led the way to the cauldron.
A hush fell over the temple. The long lines of worshippers grew silent. So silent I could hear the rush of wind over the desert sands.
The two men held Peter in place.
He kicked one of them hard in the ankle. But the man didn’t cry out or move or react in any way.
Peter squirmed and twisted. The men held on tightly.
The priests stepped up to the boiling tar
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