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The mummies were indeed starting to move. Ancient wrappings slowly tore as limbs began to stretch, revealing desiccated corpses that rose jerkily to their feet.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I murmured. “First demons and now mummies? What is this, a fucking Boris Karloff film?”
“Time to go,” Zayn announced, reaching down and grabbing my good hand. He pulled me to my feet, and I gasped with pain. Some of the achiness I’d felt from falling through the ceiling had faded with the few mouthfuls of blood I’d received, but my wrist still hung painfully and limply at my side, and my rib cage still oozed blood, though slower than it had before. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.
“Go? Go where?” I questioned, my head spinning from the pain. “Do you see a way out except through that lot?”
“Heads or tails?” West stepped in front of Zayn and me and began firing his pistol at the creatures moving towards us. The nearest took four rounds dead centre in its chest and didn’t falter, it just kept coming. “So definitely not hatay,” West muttered, quickly reloading.
Bang. The pistol sounded as though it had gone off right next to my ear, and I saw the nearest mummy’s head explode into dust. The body collapsed, and Zayn lowered his pistol for a moment and looked at West.
West shrugged. “Heads it is.” The two of them started firing at the bodies stumbling towards us. Wesley came in from the side, though his aim wasn’t as good, and several of the bodies were riddled with holes from his attempts to aim for the head.
I wished I had my own pistol. I’d dropped it when the hatay had gone for me, and in the confusion, I had totally forgotten about it. I glanced about, not wanting to be utterly useless, and picked up a couple of flattish rocks. Pain flashed through me, and I sucked in my breath. So I didn’t consume enough blood to heal my side then. I felt the warm trickle of fresh blood down my side as I straightened up, but I ignored it. There were more pressing concerns right now.
Zayn glanced down at my hand and what I held. “Need to be a bit closer to bash their skulls in, my queen, and I wouldn’t advise it.” He took out another two and paused to reload.
“It’s Tory, and I’m not about to try and bash their heads in, but every British kid grew up learning how to skim stones.” I turned sideways, and with a hard, sharp flick of my non-injured wrist, I sent one of the stones spinning through the air. It gave the nearest mummy a glancing blow on the side of the head, snapping the head around, but essentially doing no damage. The second one, however, caught the thing in the middle of the face and embedded deep into the creature’s crumbling skull. The thing crashed to the ground, and I winked at Zayn. He gave me a quick thumbs-up then turned to begin firing again.
I took another three out this way, and Zayn, West, and Wesley must have taken out another twenty or so between them, but they just kept coming.
“Hey, Wes, how far back does this burial chamber go?” West called as his gun clicked empty. One of the mummies lumbered up to him, and he spun around, smashing its skull with the butt of the gun. It crumpled instantly.
“Uh, it’s not exactly a chamber,” Wesley answered.
“What is it then?” West asked, slamming in a new magazine.
“It’s essentially a network of catacombs that run under the temple and out under the city. It goes on for miles. Quite impressive really—”
“Are you telling me there could be hundreds of these things coming for us?” West yelled.
“More like thousands.”
“And a way out?”
“I... I don’t think so. I’m sure they filled all the entrances in when they began to build the temple and the city over it.”
“Fuck!” West shouted. He spun around and headed towards me and Zayn. “Keep firing,” he yelled over his shoulder, pushing past me. I turned to see what he was doing and watched him strain to lift a heavy boulder on top of another. I stumbled over to him, realising what he was trying to do.
“Give me your gun,” I said. He looked up at me, then reached into the harness and passed it over. Thankfully, it was the same one I’d used before, so no further lessons were needed. I turned and headed past Zayn. “Go help West,” I ordered. “Wesley and I will take this one.”
Zayn glanced back at West, then nodded and lowered his gun. I took his place next to Wesley and raised the pistol, aiming it at the nearest mummy, and squeezed the trigger. It caught halfway, so I pulled it harder, and it finally released. The shot went off, sending a tingle through my hands. I hit the head, but only took out part of its jaw. I fired again, more confident this time, and the head exploded. I felt a small surge of pride in myself, but there was no time to linger on it. More were ambling our way, and with my vague night vision, I could see plenty of movement farther down.
I took out another three. My aim wasn’t anywhere near as good as West’s or Zayn’s, and it might have taken me a couple of shots, but it was a damn sight better than Wesley’s.
I was consciously aware of the slow trickle of blood from my side. I swayed a little, dizzy, and lowered my gun for a moment. My vision blurred, but I raised the gun again and aimed as best as I could. Another one fell, but three appeared behind it.
“How are we doing, guys?” I shouted.
“Nearly... Oh fuck!”
I turned my head to glance at West. They had built a rough pile of boulders, and though it didn’t look particularly steady, it might enable us to reach the floor above. It was not an exceptionally comforting thought as I remembered the hatay that had chased us through the tunnels. My mind immediately went to Jack, and sorrow throbbed in my chest.
“There’s more coming!” West yelled.
“How many more?” Wesley called.
“The kind of let’s go now before we all die more,” West answered. I began to back up, glancing backwards to make sure I didn’t trip. I was still feeling dizzy, and tripping over rubble wasn’t going to help matters. Wesley backed up too, both of us still firing. As we reached the pile, West held his hand out for mine.
