Page 94 of Ancient Obsession

“Can you climb out?”

Oliver felt the sides of the coffin. “Am I inside the coffin? Did it put me in here?”

“Yes. Come on, get out. We have to go.”

“Fucking hell.” Oliver turned and got up on all fours. “This is creepy as fuck.”

“I know, but there’s no time, come on.”

Carter and the officers were in the room now, crowding the mummy, taunting and distracting it to give Dave and Oliver precious seconds to escape. They’d holstered their weapons, but Carter had a crowbar and Montroig and Keaton held their batons, both jabbing and swinging at it.

Oliver dropped to the floor beside him and swayed. Dave put an arm around him, feeling Oliver’s arm around his waist. They started for the door.

The mummy turned. It bellowed and lurched toward them, head wobbling.

Dave tightened his grip around Oliver. But Oliver stopped. He took a step away from Dave, back toward the mummy.

“Oliver, no!” Dave whispered, his voice frantic. “What are you doing?”

Oliver held up a hand toward him without taking his eyes off it. “Amenmose, you need to stop. I’m right here.”

To Dave’s shock, the mummy halted. Montroig, Keaton, and Carter all froze, weapons held up and ready. Demetrius stood off to one side, breathing heavily. Lucia, Gayle, and Robin all clustered around him. Jugs sat against the wall, hand at his throat, Agatha crouching beside him while Clarabell hovered in the doorway.

The mummy lowered its arms and, even with its head practically lying on its shoulder, Dave could see its expression soften. Its jaw worked, and in a soft and ruined voice, he heard it say, “Mery.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Oliver’s breath caught in his chest. Was he crazy to do this?

“Oliver…” Dave whispered from behind him.

“It’s okay,” Oliver replied without turning away. “He won’t hurt me.”

“Please don’t do this.”

“Just trust me.” Oliver cleared his throat and took a step back as the mummy moved closer. “ Amenmose, I’m sorry we disturbed you. You didn’t deserve any of this. It’s time to sleep again.”

“Mery.” The word was a bit more than a guttural moan. But Oliver understood, and his heart ached at the sound.

“I’m not him. Maybe you thought I was because I touched you when we opened the lid, but I’m not.”

“He touched it?” Gayle said in a quiet voice.

“Not important,” Oliver stated, keeping watch on the mummy.

“Mery.”

Amenmose moved faster than Oliver had anticipated. Fingers of bone clutched the tops of his arms, the nails sharp. Dried and sunken eyes stared into Oliver’s as the mummy leaned in. Its head was crooked, and its jaw slowly opened.

“Mery.”

He tried to step back, to get free, but Amenmose held him tight. Placing his hands against the mummy’s chest, Oliver shoved. The ribs gave way, and his hands plunged inside the empty torso. Ice cold terror flooded him, and his legs went weak.

“Mery!”

Amenmose drew him in even closer. He was stronger than Oliver had expected. The smell of dried flesh and damp linen filled his nose.

Someone whacked the back of the mummy’s head, sending it tilting toward him. Oliver tried to push it back, but he touched the hard knobs of vertebrae, and screamed.