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*****
"So… let me get this straight," Burns said, pointing between them and the dark entrance back into the ruins. "You people want to go back inside and face the thing we barely escaped from?"
He had already warned them — whatever that thing was, it wasn't something humans could kill.
Going back into those underground chambers wasn't bravery; it was a death sentence. Only people with serious mental issues would even consider it.
"Well, we don't exactly have other options," Daniel replied, tone flat. "Either we die in the desert, or we die facing that Mummy."
He wasn't sugar-coating it. The Sahara would finish them long before the Mummy did — and Daniel himself still needed Imhotep's soul, so turning back was never even a question.
"So between the two," he added calmly, "it's better to face the Mummy. At least we have a way to kill that thing now."
"Count me out," Burns snapped.
He wasn't just afraid—he was done. He had watched his friends shrivel into husks right in front of him, their skin collapsing like dry parchment as that… thing fed on them.
If anything, he should have been furious, burning for revenge.
But revenge sounded noble only from a distance.
Up close, when you were staring at something that moved like smoke and devoured life like a ghost, revenge stopped being righteous and became delusion.
You don't avenge yourself against a natural disaster. You survive it.
And Burns had every intention of surviving.
"Suit yourself," Daniel said with a shrug that was far too casual for the situation. "Honestly, it's better you're not coming. You'd just end up as cannon fodder."
O'Connell stood up and cocked his shotgun, sliding shells in with brisk, practiced motions. "Alright then," he said, looking around the group.
"Are the rest of you ready? Bullets don't do much, but this thing should at least slow them down."
As for Dr. Allen… well, that man was somehow even more cowardly than Burns. The moment the plan was mentioned, he backed out completely—shaking his head insisting he wouldn't step within a mile of that tomb again.
His hands trembled so badly he nearly dropped his glasses.
Daniel didn't care about the man himself.
But he did care about something Allen possessed
The Book of Dead.
So if Dr. Allen wasn't coming with them…
Daniel would need to figure out how to get that book before they stepped foot back underground.
One way or another.
He was still thinking when a distant sound reached them.
Clip-clop.
The rhythmic pounding of hooves echoed through the ruins.
Everyone froze.
"Did the horses return?" Jonathan asked, eyes narrowing as he looked toward the darkness.
They all stood up, listening.
The hoofbeats grew louder — thump-thump-thump — and soon shadows emerged from the gloom.
Not just horses.
Medjai.
"Well," Daniel muttered, "we've got helping hands."
O'Connell's eyes widened. "Hold on — aren't those the same people who attacked us on the boat?!"
"They indeed are," Burns said grimly as he instantly drew his gun. The others followed, weapons raising in tense unison.
The horses galloped closer.
Just as the tension was about to snap, Daniel raised both hands.
"Don't shoot!"
The sudden command startled the others.
Daniel stepped forward, palms open, posture relaxed, showing he had no intention of fighting. Then he motioned sharply for the rest of them to lower their weapons.
They stared at him as if he'd gone insane.
"Why are you surrendering to the enemy?" O'Connell hissed under his breath.
"Just do as I say," Daniel said firmly, eyes still on the approaching horsemen.
Within seconds, they were completely surrounded — a ring of horses, hooves stamping the sand, and the Medjai standing over them with curved swords pointed down like executioners waiting for a signal.
Daniel forcing a smile.
"Hello. Wonderful night we're having, isn't it?"
The Medjai didn't respond. A few exchanged puzzled glances — clearly not expecting sarcasm at sword-point — until one rider stepped forward.
He tugged down the black cloth covering his mouth.
Ardeth Bay.
Sharp eyes, desert-worn face, posture of someone who had spent his life fighting things normal people pretended didn't exist.
"You should leave this place," Ardeth said, voice low and steady. "If you remain, you will die."
Daniel nodded enthusiastically. "Right, see, about that—believe me, we want to leave."
O'Connell muttered behind him, "We really do."
"But," Daniel continued, rubbing the back of his neck with a wry grin, "there's a tiny little problem."