The first thing I noticed was the sand. It was in my face, in my mouth. My hair was dusty and I could feel sand under my clothes as well, scratching at my skin. Behind me, the heat from the flames was harsh against my back. I turned around to see the roaring inferno.
Or more appropriately, what was left of the plane.
Again, I'm getting too ahead of myself. Or was I supposed to be a few months ahead? I... I'm not really sure sometimes.
We're on track. Stop your wining.
...
What? Are you still pissed about that? Oh come on, I got you laid, and I got you out of that dump. You should be thanking me you jackass, not fucking sulking.
I swear to God, somehow I will get rid of you, you sick bastard. I don't know how, but-
Yeah, yeah, sure. Whatever. You don't even know what happened completely, do you? If you'd like I-
I shut him out again. I know that just pisses him off even more, but at that moment I didn't care. What he had made me do, ruin the life I had work so hard to get. All lost in the chaos of a single night.
I sat down on the top of a dune. The plane-crash was far behind me, lost from sight. But I could still see the pillar of smoke, it was visible for miles around. In hindsight, I should have stayed by the crash as that's where any rescue team would have gone first. But at that moment, I didn't care.
All I wanted to do was get as far away from there as possible.
The desert went on for miles all around. All that I could do was walk on forwards, and try hard not to fall. If I did, I wasn't sure if I had the will to get up again. I wanted to die. God, I wanted to die so badly at that time. I had lost everything, and now all I had was the sand.
I screamed in agony. In frustration. In pain. I hated him so much back then. As much as I hated myself. I would have killed myself there and then, the Colt was even still with me. But... but I was just too scared too die. I couldn't do it yet.
In time civilization had to come. In time it did. All I saw first was just a road. Not tracks in the sand, but proper tarmac. I reached it, and then was faced with one of the most difficult decisions I have ever had too face.
Left or Right?
I couldn't choose. Which side was closer to getting me away from this hell? Finally I... I passed out.
I'm very embarrassed to admit this. Not embarrassed- ashamed. When... when he was in control. I was aware, I knew what he was doing. And I swear I tried to stop him but, but I wasn't strong enough.
I wasn't stronger than him. I couldn't stop him, I just couldn't. And if... when he does it again.
What do I do?
I was swimming again. Deep, dark and down underwater, away from the heat, loving the cool feel of water running down my face, until the heat came rushing back in a fierce wave with the light and... the refined words of a British voice.
"Are you awake? Are you alright?"
I blinked. A sky-blue eye was staring at me through a monocle. I blinked again. So did the eye.
"Jolly Good, you're awake!" The eye said. "Thought the heat had got to you. Mighty lucky you are that we ran into you like this, or the vultures would have given you a go. I say, can you hear me? Do you understand what I'm saying?"
"Get off me." I muttered, pushing away at what I could now see was a face.
"Hold on! Hold on! Let me give you a hand." The eye was replaced by a hand, stretched forward, ready to help.
I took it, and with a firm grip I was hoisted to my feet. Blinking away the harsh sunlight, I finally got to take a first look at the man who would become my best friend. Dressed in a safari suit, he stood at six feet, towering over me. A jolly smile with a trim white beard that ran down his face, in sharp contrast to the shoulder-length black hair. Blue eyes twinkled at me from under a safari hat, one framed by that ridiculous monocle.
Ah, Jonathan, you always knew how to make a first impression.
He was saying something to me, but I realized that I had tuned him out. Funny how I could do that so easily now. Funny, in a scary kind of way.
Hell, I should really hear what he's saying.
"... on the road for nearly three days now. And the we'll hit the campsite by the evening. As I said, two months, I'm afraid."
"I'm sorry, what? What campsite? Where are we?"
"Where are we?" He looked startled. "Don't you know where you are? This is the Highway from Luxor, and we're on the way to the campsite at Karnak."
"Luxor? Karnak? I don't understand. Which country is this?"
He looked at me as though I was mad. He wasn't far off. "Egypt m'boy. You're in the south of Egypt."
... How? Egypt? But I was in Hong Kong. And if I was in Hong Kong, then why do I remember running through the Louvre? My head felt like a hammer was doing the can-can on it. The next thing I remember was his hands holding me steady as my legs turned to jelly.
"Easy now. You've suffered serious heatstroke, friend, and that just isn't something you get up and walk away from. You need to sit, come the jeep is right here."
That was the first time I noticed the convoy. Three jeeps and a truck filled with diggers stood in the blazing heat, heads popping out and staring openly at me. A voice rang from one of the jeeps.
"I say, Jacinto, is he alright?"
"He's fine, Charles." The man holding me shouted back. "Heavy case of heatstroke, that's all. He needs to sit, make space in the jeep, hurry!"
He turned back to face me. "Come on now, let's get you seated."
He took me to the nearest seat and sat me down. The person sitting to my side handed me a water bottle. I drank half of it, and poured the rest on my face, each drop bringing me closer back to life. Putting the empty bottle to the side, I finally turned to face my savior.
"Thank you." I said. "I... I don't know how to thank you."
"Nonsense." The man beamed. "Perfectly human thing to do, that's all. After all, what gentleman would not help another. Jonathan Jacinto Amberswoth is the name, and you are?"
"Lurch, Karl Lurch." The first name that popped into my head. It wasn't the best name, but I was desperate.
Jacinto nodded. "Mighty pleased to meat you, Mr. Lurch. Well, we had better be getting on now. It's quite obvious that you have travel with us."
"Travel? Where to?"
His eyes lit up. "To Karnak! Great Karnak of old, land of the great Thutmose III! To find the secrets of the ancients, the wonders of history!"
The man beside me rolled his eyes. "Please ignore his theatrics. He was only recently potty-trained, you see."
Jacinto frowned. "And the extremely sarcastic person sitting to your left is Mr. Charles Brighton, fresh out of London and quite honestly the worst traveling companion since Attila the Hun."
I was still stuck on Karnak.
"Wasn't that in that movie? The one with the mummies coming to life and Brendan Frasier kicking some bald guy's ass?"
Jacinto's cheery disposition vanished as he thundered in fury. "The movie, 'The Mummy' is an insult to Ancient Egypt and all it stands for! Ludicrous to suggest that Imhoteph was having an affair! With the Queen no less! If I ever met the man who directed that movie, I'd hit hit him in the head with 'Diggings Through Egypt', then he might know how to make a bloody movie!"
"By the way," Charles said in a dramatic whisper. "He's very sensitive about Ancient Egypt."
"Oh shut up, Brighton. No one gives a damn you graduated from Oxford. Enough of chit-chat, we must rush! We will beat the setting dun to Karnak!بدء تشغيل المركبات! نحن بحاجة إلى عجل!"
He jumped into the jeep as it started, and before I could even protest, the convoy had already begun to start, kicking a cloud of dust trailing behind it. I sat there in silence, not listening to word either of the Britishers beside me were saying. All I could think of was how the hell I had got here, and how the hell do I get out?
You had somehow got me here, you sick bastard. And I wasn't even sure how. But the plane crash, running through the Museum, Hong Kong... this was all you.
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