Текст книги "26 - Storm Cycle "

Автор книги: Iris Johansen

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Текущая страница: 19 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

NINETEEN

Detective Finley sat at his desk in the squad room and read the e-mail from NSA Agent Wayne Norton for a third time.

"What the hell?" Gonzalez came in holding his Black-Berry. "Did you see this?"

"Yeah." Finley was still trying to make sense of Norton's message:

Detectives Finley & Gonzalez,

I'm sending this to you because I have a great deal of respect for you both. There are not many men who would ignore threats and intimidation to do what they felt is right. Since that intimidation came from me, I have a personal admiration.

You have been very resourceful in your investigation of the Rachel Kirby shooting, and I must admit that some of the information you uncovered was a surprise even to me. I'm sure that you'll be skeptical as you read this. You probably won't believe it, but I didn't want to think you were right about the NSA involvement. Manipulating information is one thing, murder of an innocent citizen is another. I knew nothing about the attempt on her life. But it was at that point that I began to think that I had been set up to take the fall for some extremely dirty business. I wasn't going to let that happen, so I started launching an investigation of my own while I balanced very precariously on the edge of disaster.

And if you're reading this, it means that my ignorance was most likely fatal. I have placed this e-mail and accompanying attachments in a timed autosend folder that I will reschedule every six hours as long as I am able. I've used the services of Paul Simmons, one of NSA's most talented information specialists, who may also be able to bear witness. If he's still alive. In brief, I've collected evidence indicating that Robert Pierce is using our access to Rachel Kirby's data network for personal gain and attempted to kill her to avoid being discovered. She's still in great danger. Pierce will never stop.

Please exercise extreme caution in your use and dissemination of this information.

N.

Gonzalez pocketed his phone. "I just called Norton's office, but it went straight to voice mail."

"But that's nothing new. He could still be okay." Finley stood and walked to the squad room's printer. "I printed out the attachments. Let's run this upstairs and show it to the tech guys."

* * *

Val adjusted the headset as she sat down at the workstation. "Rachel, are you at the site yet?"

"We're just outside the tomb in Saqqara now. We're going in right now. Our guide had to make some arrangements with the Tourism and Antiquities Police."

"Arrangements involving an insanely large wad of cash?"

"We won't talk about that. Listen, I'll be belowground and out of cell-phone range when I'm in the tomb. Before I go in, does Jonesy have any last pieces of information for me?"

"Yes. And Simon talked to Professor Azi for some clarification on a few things we couldn't interpret or understand. Here's what we have: 'Lady Peseshet is a guest of the gracious Donkor, maker of fine clothing for the Pharaoh.' "

"Tavak was able to read that much himself. Donkor's tomb was discovered in the 1940s, north of the Djojer Pyramid. I'm looking at it right now."

"It says Peseshet waits behind the sun for her journey to the afterlife."

"Behind the sun?"

"That's what it says. It says that those who wish to bring Peseshet's secrets to the world may do so, but they must also leave it with her to assure her safe passage. But here's something interesting. It says that anyone who breaks the seal will only be given a quarter of a summer hour to visit the great Peseshet."

"A summer hour?"

"I don't know. That's all it says."

"Okay. Thanks for your help, Val. Thanks to Simon, too."

"We'll be here if you need us."

"I'll call you when we get back up topside. Wish us luck." Rachel cut the connection.

Val pulled off her headset and turned to Simon. "Rachel is about to go in."

"Maybe Jonesy can come up with the name of a good lawyer when she gets herself arrested. I'm going to the snack bar. You want anything?"

"No, thanks."

Simon left the lab. Val launched the allocation protocol and began the task of restoring Jonesy's processing duties to the various projects. Outages were not all that uncommon due to system maintenance, upgrades, and the like, and none of the project managers had even called to complain. Val didn't think it was necessary to inform Rachel of the drastic measures she had taken, but she would note the interruption in the logs they kept for–

What the hell?

Val leaned forward and studied the screen. In the years she had been working with Jonesy, she'd thought she had seen everything.

She had never seen this.

SAQQARA, EGYPT

Tavak shined his flashlight into the tomb of Donkor. "Here we go. Time to visit the Lady."

Nuri reached over and switched off Tavak's flashlight. "Please. The Tourism and Antiquities Police were quite agreeable, but they made me promise we wouldn't turn on any flashlights or lanterns outside the tomb. We would be too easy for their superiors to spot."

"You're right," Tavak said. "My apologies." He turned to Rachel. "So according to Jonesy, Peseshet is waiting for us on the other side of the sun?"

"That's what the message says. And apparently, our invitation is only good for less than an hour."

"What do you mean?"

"The exact words were 'quarter of a summer hour.' After that, we're no longer welcome in her tomb."

"A summer hour? What the hell does that mean?" Allie asked.

Tavak led them into the tomb. "The ancient Egyptians were one of the first societies with a twenty-four-hour day. The catch is, their hours were different lengths, depending what time of year it was. During the summer, hours were more like eighty minutes."

"So we'll wear out our welcome in twenty minutes," Demanski said. "Got it."

He and Allie set off down the narrow corridor.

"Oba, Meti." Nuri gestured to the entrance. "Stay and guard here."

Tavak shook his head. "If you don't mind, they may be more useful someplace else. I've already discussed it with them while we were waiting for you."

Nuri frowned. "Where?"

Tavak produced a hand-drawn map and handed it to Oba.

Nuri glanced at the map in bewilderment. "This is a half mile from here. Are you sure this is where you want them?"

"That's where I want them." He turned to Rachel. "Do you agree?"

Rachel nodded. "Absolutely."

He smiled at her. "Thank you." He stood aside and gestured for her to precede him into Donkor's tomb. "Shall we go to see the Lady?"

The Lady Peseshet. Are you here? Are you waiting for us?

Darkness.

The flashlights cast patches of light on the walls, but the narrow path was serpentine, and they could only see for a short distance ahead of them.

She could hear Allie and Demanski ahead of them, but she couldn't see them.

Age.

Stone.

Dampness.

Flashlight beams played across the stone floors and over the carved reliefs that told the story of Donkor's life and family. Rust-colored hieroglyphics covered almost every square inch of the walls.

It had been hot outside, but Rachel was cold now.

"Okay?" Tavak was suddenly beside her.

She nodded jerkily. "It's just strange down here. I… feel… "

"What?"

She couldn't explain. It wasn't fear, but a sort of chill expectation. "Nothing."

Then suddenly they turned the corner and were in a large offering room. Demanski and Allie were standing there gazing at reliefs carved on the walls, depicting a funeral feast for the gods.

"Look how distinctively the people are dressed in these reliefs," Rachel said. "Beautiful draping."

Tavak shined his flashlight on the wall. "Donkor designed and made clothing for the Pharaoh and other wealthy citizens. These designs were probably part of his offering to the gods. A couple of these wouldn't be that out of place in department-store windows on Fifth Avenue."

"Except that one." Allie directed her flashlight at a relief of a bare-chested man with a falcon head.

"That's Horus," Tavak said. He smiled as the realization hit him. "He was the sun in the sky."

Rachel swung her flashlight toward it. "The other side of the sun… "

Allie and Demanski were running their hands over the wall below the relief, feeling for a seam. Demanski turned back. "There's no doorway here. It's solid."

"Of course it is," Rachel said. "It was never meant to be discovered. If the Pharaoh knew that Donkor had constructed a tomb for Peseshet, it would have been dangerous for him and his family. He must have felt he owed her a great debt, so he constructed hidden chambers for her at the same time he built his own."

"We have to get through that wall," Tavak said. "Abu."

Abu slung a canvas bag from his shoulder and upended it, dropping half a dozen sledgehammers onto the ground. "Help yourselves."

As they picked up their sledgehammers, Nuri moved to the wall and drew an imaginary outline with his hand. "You want to start high and work your way down. As you dislodge the higher portions of the wall, gravity will help bring down the rest."

Allie turned toward Demanski. "Why do I get the feeling he's done this kind of thing before?"

Tavak hefted his sledgehammer and turned back to Rachel. "We don't have time to be delicate. We've talked about this. Are we still on the same page?"

Rachel knew he was speaking of the balance between possibly destroying artifacts of the past to gain the medical miracles for the future.

She didn't hesitate. She took aim with her sledgehammer and cracked the blank sandstone wall.

Tavak nodded. "Good."

They swung at the wall with their sledgehammers, and in a few minutes they had created an opening through which they could peer inside.

Tavak shined his flashlight into the opening. "It's huge," he said. "Bigger than anything up here. Keep at it."

They hit harder and more vigorously, and when a particularly large section of the wall fell, they heard a dull roar.

Tavak froze. "Stop!"

They stood motionless as the sound continued.

"What is it?" Rachel said.

Tavak shook his head. "I thought it might be a cave-in, but it's not." He pressed his ear against the wall. "I think it's sand. It's in all the walls." He turned to Nuri. "It's something we triggered."

"Like a booby trap?" Demanski said.

"The message said we'll be given a quarter of a summer hour," Rachel said. "This may be the start of it."

Tavak nodded. "Tons of sand may be being released from some kind of counterweight system."

"What happens when it runs out?" Allie said.

Tavak set the stopwatch function on his watch. "I don't know, but I don't want to be here to find out. Let's make this fast."

They crawled through the opening. Once again Rachel felt the strange sensation that had overtaken her before.

Only now did she realize what it was.

* * *

Val stared at the monitor in frustration. She had explored every adjustment she could think to make. But the readout still didn't make sense.

The usage statistics were seriously out of whack with the reports Jonesy had been generating.

Had she screwed something up?

No. Not a chance. The only way these numbers could be correct is if—

"I told you not to do that," Simon said.

Val jumped.

He was standing behind her, so close that she could feel his breath on the back of her neck.

He nodded toward the screen. "What do you make of it?"

She tried to be casual. "It's a glitch. You're right, I should have known there would be problems if I reallocated Jonesy's cycles like this."

Simon smiled. "A glitch."

"We've seen our share around here, huh?" She grabbed her keys from the desk. "I think I'm going to go outside and—"

She tried to stand, but Simon pushed her back down into her chair. "You're smarter than that. You know it's not a glitch."

He leaned close, and said softly into her ear, "Tell me what you see."

She didn't answer.

He shook her chair violently. "Tell me!"

She stared straight ahead, trying not to let him know how much he was scaring her. He knew what she was thinking. He knew. "I see… some of the processing cycles from each of these projects being rerouted."

"Rerouted where?"

"I don't know. But it's happening somewhere in the chain after Jonesy takes stock of where it's going. It doesn't show up in the reports." She turned and looked up at him. "It's you. That's the only way it makes sense."

He nodded.

"Why?" she asked. "You've given just as much of yourself to this project as I have."

"I got an offer."

"It must have been a hell of an offer."

"It was. And from someone who said he could make things right for me legally if the worst happened."

"Norton? That asshole Norton?"

Simon shook his head. "Norton's boss, Pierce."

Val felt her eyes stinging hot with tears. "He tried to kill Rachel, didn't he?"

"I never wanted that to happen."

"Sure you didn't."

"It's the truth. When Tavak tapped into our system, Rachel started to take a closer look at things. My contact got scared. I told him again and again that I'd take care of it, but he didn't believe me."

"If he had killed Rachel, what next? Come after me?"

"Not if I could help it."

"She created Jonesy to do good in the world. Not for whatever the hell this is."

"It's just a bunch of third-world countries fucking each other over. Spying on each other, crippling each other's economies and defense systems. Who gives a shit?"

"Rachel would. Is that all it was?"

He shrugged. "A couple companies who are willing to pay big bucks to the NSA for information."

"Like Mills Pharmaceuticals?"

Simon didn't answer.

"My God, Simon, you've been feeding Dawson the information we've been giving Rachel."

"Rachel is smart. She can take care of herself."

"Oh, yes. Why worry about her?" Val asked. "As long as they pay you, right?"

"I can use your help, Val. You wouldn't believe the money."

Val nodded. There was only one way she was getting out of there alive. Play along, say what he wanted to hear.

"How much money?"

"It could end up in the millions."

"I want a meeting with this NSA guy. I want to talk to him."

"That can be arranged."

She stood. "Call me when you find out. In the meantime—"

He snapped his arm around her neck. "You think I'm stupid?"

She couldn't breathe.

"I know you better than that, Val. I can't let you walk out of here."

She felt a darkness rising from the back of her head.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

She was blacking out, she realized. Can't let it happen…

Her hands instinctively went for Simon's arm, but she felt something in her hand.

The keys.

One last chance. She pushed the keys between each knuckle and made the tightest fist she could. Then, in one quick motion, she swung her arm up and plunged the keys deep into Simon's right eye.

He screamed.

His grip loosened slightly, and she wrenched herself free and ran for the door. She pushed, but it wouldn't open.

"I locked it, you bitch." Simon cupped his hand over his wounded eye and staggered toward her. Blood ran down his cheek.

Val backed away. She pulled the printer table over in front of him and turned toward the server racks. If only she could make it to the back exit.

Simon leaped over the table, stumbled, and hit the floor face forward. Val tried to jump out of the way, but Simon grabbed her ankle and brought her down in front of him.

She screamed as Simon worked his way up her leg, pulling her back. She turned. His face was frozen in a horrible grimace, with blood still pouring from his wounded right eye.

He climbed on top of her, sat up, and reached for the broken printer. He lifted it over his head.

"No!"

The lab door splintered open.

Footsteps, then what sounded like a cannon being fired.

Simon froze. His arms went limp, and Val rolled out from under him as he dropped the printer onto the floor. Simon collapsed next to her.

Val turned toward the door. It was the two police detectives, she realized dazedly, and they still had their guns drawn.

Thank God.

"Are you okay?" Gonzalez holstered his revolver and rushed toward her. "Be still. Don't try to move."

She tried to catch her breath. "I can't believe it. He tried… If you hadn't been here, he would have killed me."

"Where's Rachel Kirby? Is she all right?"

Val nodded. "She's in Egypt. I talked to her a short time ago." Val glanced back at Simon's body. Blood was spreading from the bullet wounds. "He was involved in something… with somebody in the NSA."

Finley crouched beside her. "We know."

Her gaze flew to his face. "How do you know?"

"We received a very interesting e-mail. That's what brought us here. We could really use your help in sorting this out."

"Later." She struggled to sit up. "I have to contact Rachel. I don't know what's waiting for her down in that tomb. Simon could have—" Panic jolted though her as the realization hit home. "I can't do it. She's out of range. All we can do is wait."

* * *

Another world, Rachel thought as she gazed in fascination at the massive staircase leading down to a huge chamber. They had left the present behind and were now in Peseshet's world. But somehow she did not feel like an intruder.

"We have to hurry." Tavak was leading them all down the staircase to the lower level of the magnificent chamber, with ceilings at least thirty feet high. The walls were covered with multi-colored depictions of Peseshet in her roles as a mother, healer, and teacher of female doctors. The beams from their flashlights played across the walls, revealing still another breathtaking relief.

"It's incredible." Rachel's voice echoed in the huge chamber. She walked past the massive pillars, each completely covered with hieroglyphics from top to bottom.

"Listen," Tavak said. "The walls are roaring in here, too. Whatever we triggered, it's happening everywhere."

Demanski was ahead of them. "This way."

They were now in Peseshet's offering room, depicting another magnificent feast for the Gods, Rachel realized. On the left side, there were carved reliefs of scores of figures, both male and female, each adorned in wildly different styles of clothing. Hundreds of rows of hieroglyphics ran vertically beneath the figures.

"I think those are people she cared for during her lifetime," Tavak said. "Incredible."

The loyal subjects Peseshet had saved. The sight swamped Rachel with emotion. She made herself turn away and look at the stone pathway ahead. It was lined with dozens of huge sandstone statues. Most were representations of boats that pointed to an opening at the rear of the chamber.

She was there.

Rachel moved slowly toward the open doorway. She was being drawn deeper with each step. The pull grew stronger and stronger. The chill was gone, and Rachel was feeling an odd contentment. This was right. She was connected to this place and the woman it honored. This is where she should be.

I'm coming. I'm sorry it took me so long. Wait for me.

The rushing sand, combined with whistling pockets of air, made eerie and beautiful music in her ears.

I hear you.

"Rachel?"

She barely heard Tavak as she ducked through the doorway.

She stopped, stunned.

Not ten feet in front of her was the sarcophagus of Peseshet. The same face as she had seen on the photos of the mural in the tomb.

She moved slowly forward until she was standing before the decorative casket. Peseshet's face, while crudely painted by modern standards, reflected strong features, wisdom, and dignity.

Healer. Mother. Sage. Warrior.

Sister.

"Hello," she whispered. "We've come a long way to see you." And to honor her. To honor her mind and her soul and the boundless generosity of her heart.

"She was beautiful," Allie whispered.

Rachel hadn't even realized the others had joined her at the sarcophagus. It was strange that Allie thought Peseshet beautiful. No, not really. Strength and wisdom could be beautiful, and Allie would see that in her. "Yes, in her way, very beautiful."

Tavak had pulled out his camera and was taking pictures of a stone tablet near the sarcophagus's base.

"This has to be it," he said. "The final piece of her cure."

Rachel knelt next to it. "You're positive?"

"Yes, as far as I can be. And there's also some kind of message she had given to her students." Tavak put down the camera and gazed around the tomb. "Natifah did Peseshet proud."

Rachel nodded. "Yes, she did."

Tavak turned to Nuri and Abu. "We should take this tablet. Give me something to wrap it with."

Rachel shook her head. "No."

Tavak frowned. "What's the problem?"

"We can't take this. The directions told us to leave it with her."

Allie frowned. "But what if Dawson—"

"Let him have it. Jonesy's already cracked the code. Dawson will never have that cure before we do." Rachel looked back at the tablet. "Leave it with her."

Tavak hesitated, then nodded. "All right."

"How noble." The familiar voice that called out from the entrance behind them was dripping with venom. "You make me sick."

She didn't even have to turn around to know who it was.

"Dawson." Tavak wheeled to look at him. "Welcome to Peseshet's world. I know how eager you were to find her."

Oba pushed Dawson into the chamber, his rifle in Dawson's back. "A delivery." Meti was right behind with Sorens in tow.

Tavak stepped toward them. "We were just talking about you, Dawson."

Meti turned to Tavak. "They were right where you said they'd be. A tomb a half mile south of here."

Nuri's brow wrinkled. "I don't understand."

"I suspected that Dawson might have had access to some of the information we had, which was provided by Rachel's computer system." He paused. "He had a source."

"The NSA," Rachel said.

"Ever since we started on this trek, Rachel's computer system has been updating the decoding software it generated for me," Tavak said. "And somehow Dawson has had access to it. So after we got the information we needed to come here, Rachel and I altered the software to direct him to the other tomb." He spoke to Oba. "Is this Dawson's entire party?"

"There were two others but we had a bit of a scuffle. They opened fire on us." Oba shook his head. "They are no longer of this world."

"You could have told us, Tavak," Demanski said curtly.

"Why? It wasn't a sure thing. I just had to make sure we were protected."

"Very clever," Dawson said. "But it won't do you any good. I have contacts who will come down on you like a house if they don't hear from me soon."

"Really? Now who would they be? Who the hell would care if scum like you lived or died?"

"I represent cash in the till, and there's always someone who cares about money. NSA, Ted Mills." He paused. "We could make a deal."

"That's not going to happen," Rachel said fiercely. "You and your friends at NSA can't buy everyone."

"So full of faith and virtue." Dawson's gaze shifted from Tavak to her. "Corruption is everywhere, bitch, even in your boring corner of the world." He studied her expression, then started to laugh. "You didn't tell her, did you, Tavak? You wanted to protect her. You had to have put all the pieces together, but you didn't—"

"What are you talking about?" Rachel interrupted.

"A mole," Dawson said. "The most logical answer in the equation. Tavak would have gone there first."

Rachel wouldn't believe it. "No!" She looked at Tavak. "It's not—" Then she saw his expression. "Dear God."

"I didn't want to hurt you until I was sure."

"My, my, I had no idea you could be this sentimental, Tavak." Dawson swung back to face him. "A deal?"

"No way," Tavak said coldly. "You killed my friend, you son of a bitch. You tried to kill us. You're not going to get off the hook. It stops here. You stop—"

The roaring in the walls abruptly ceased.

Rachel stiffened. The sudden silence was heavy as a hammerblow.

Then there was a low rumbling from below. The ground shook beneath their feet.

Dawson's panicky gaze darted around the burial chamber. "What's wrong? What's happening?"

Tavak's wristwatch beeped. He looked at it, then smiled at Dawson. "You read the instructions. 'A quarter of a summer hour… ' I don't think that was just a request."

The ground shook with even greater intensity, and large chunks fell from the ceiling of the burial chamber.

"I don't have time for you now, Dawson." Tavak grabbed Rachel's hand and leaped for the door. "We have to get out. Now!"

The ceiling at the rear of the burial chamber collapsed, crushing Oba and knocking Meti to the ground. Dust and debris filled the chamber.

Sorens bent down, grabbed Oba's gun, and spun around. He was aiming at Allie, who was running for the doorway. Nuri was suddenly behind him, gripping the man's head. With one twist, he snapped Sorens's neck.

The ground shook harder. Tavak was at the entrance, shoving the others through ahead of him. He called, "Out, Nuri."

As he was about to jump through himself, he glanced back to see Dawson at the sarcophagus tearing the stone tablet from its place.

"You bastard." Dawson cradled the tablet in one arm as he turned, his eyes blazing with triumph. "I've got it. The game's not over. I'll get out of here and I'll—"

A huge chunk of the wall next to him collapsed. Dawson screamed as the barrage of stone blocks threw him against a pile of debris and pinned him upright.

Dawson stared at Tavak and started to speak. But only blood came from his mouth.

Tavak's gaze was on Peseshet's cure, still clutched in Dawson's arms. "She really didn't want you to take her tablet, did she, Dawson?"

"Tavak." Rachel grabbed his arm and pulled him out as more of the burial chamber fell. "Forget him. Get the hell out of here. Hurry! The whole place is going down."

"Tavak!" They heard Dawson's scream as they ran through the large entrance chamber.

The sculptures lining the walkway fell and shattered as the ground roiled. Chunks of the ceiling rained down like bombs from the sky.

Tavak pointed ahead. "Look!"

He was indicating the stairs, which were crumbling fast, Rachel realized. As she watched, a large section of the ceiling fell on them, completely obliterating one side.

Allie and Demanski were hesitating at the base.

Rachel pushed them forward. "Go! It's our only way out!"

The stairs crumbled further with each step, and the deep rumbling below the tomb grew even louder, filling Rachel's ears until she could hear nothing else.

Up ahead, through the clouds of debris, she could make out the hole they had made. Just another few yards.

The next step disappeared beneath her! Then there was nothing but the blackness of space.

She was falling.

Falling, then choking, from her shirt bunched up around her neck and chin.

She looked up. Tavak was on the crumbling stair above, holding her from the back of her collar.

"Cross your arms across your chest so that your shirt won't slip over your head," he shouted.

She complied, and he lifted her up until she could grip the jagged stairs. She almost lost her balance as another chunk of the ceiling fell beside her.

"I'm coming down for you."

"No!" she shouted. "Get your camera out of here. Dammit, it's the final piece of her cure."

"I'm not leaving without you."

"Do it! I'll get out on my own."

Tavak cursed, reached into his shoulder satchel, and pulled out his camera. He turned and hurled it through the opening in the wall. "There. Now I'm coming down."

The staircase buckled and tilted to one side. Tavak inched down and grabbed her wrist, but Rachel desperately held her grip on a chunk of railing. "I'm not going to let you go. Not ever. You'll have to stop holding on to that railing sooner or later. You trust me, remember?"

"Yes." Rachel took a deep breath and released her grip.

"Good." Tavak pulled her up and together they scrambled up the stairs as the cavernous room collapsed entirely. A hurricane of dust and debris blasted all around them; their faces and arms were being cut by the blast. Rachel threw herself through the opening, followed by Tavak.

Tavak bent over to pick up his camera as he and Rachel staggered for the exit. Incredibly, Donkor's mastaba was virtually untouched from the mayhem in Peseshet's tomb, though the collapse was still sending shock waves beneath their feet.

They twisted and turned through the narrow passageways.

The opening was up ahead. Rachel could see stars sparking the darkness.

A few more yards.

They burst out of the tomb.

Cool night air.

Where was Allie?

There she was right ahead of them with Demanski, Nuri, and Abu.

"Keep on running," Tavak called to them. "Don't stop until you reach the crest of the next dune. You have to put distance between you and the tomb."

When they reached the dune, Allie whirled away from Demanski and ran back to Rachel. "Are you okay, Rachel? It was like a nightmare."

Rachel nodded, trying to get her breath. She turned to look back at the tomb, then glanced at Tavak.

His gaze was on the tomb but he reached out and his hand closed on Rachel's. "Yes, a nightmare. Dawson's nightmare."

The ground had not stopped shaking, and they could still hear the low rumbling.

Peseshet's voice calling like a triumphant clarion from the past?

Or the sound of distant thunder, echoing across the ages.

* * *

Dawson turned his head as another piece of the ceiling fell. He choked on blood, and his ears throbbed from the roar all around him. From somewhere in the chamber, a single flashlight still blazed, sending bizarre, angular shadows on the rubble.

He tried to move. He couldn't. There was no feeling in his legs or left arm, and his right arm was pinned under a section of the fallen wall.

He had to move. He had to get out of here.

More of the ceiling fell, splintering the sarcophagus and knocking it off its pedestal. It tumbled across the rubble, just feet away from Dawson.

Then, slowly, something emerged from the box.

Peseshet.

Dawson held his breath as the mummified remains slid headfirst down the sloping pile of debris.

Directly toward him.

The flashlight beam lit Peseshet's face, brown and leathery, as the ancient ban dages caught on the edges of the broken sarcophagus and tore away. Her face drew ever closer, now inches away from Dawson's own.

God, was she smiling?

She was taunting him, he realized. Laughing at him. Mocking his helplessness. Mocking his defeat.

And there wasn't a damned thing he could do about it.

He screamed.

He was still screaming when the entire chamber collapsed on him.