Egypt Page 7

  “Lay down and put these over your ears!” she yelled.

  James took the pillows and dove onto the cot and pressed them over his head.

  That’s when I heard someone pounding at the door.

  “Open up!” a voice shouted from outside. “It’s Dr. Aziz!”

  I quickly undid the knot and opened the canvas flap. Sand started pouring in so fast I could hardly see. Dr. Aziz jumped through and we quickly closed the flap. He had a small plastic container with some food and a jug of water.

  “Here’s some food and water to get you through the night!” he shouted over the wind. “I just got a radio call! The storm should pass by morning!”

  “I hope so!” I yelled. “We’re going crazy in here!”

  Dr. Aziz noticed James lying on the cot with pillows pressed over his head.

  “Is James going to be okay?” he asked.

  “He’ll be fine!” Wyatt said. “How’s the rest of the camp holding up?”

  “A few tents have been destroyed! I’m not sure how much longer the other tents will last! I’ll check in tomorrow morning! I have to get supplies to the other men!”

  Dr. Aziz left and I think I’m going to join James and ride out the rest of this storm with pillows over my ears. This wind is driving me absolutely insane!

  WYATT

  MARCH 6, 7:22 AM

  TOMB COMPLEX

  9° CELSIUS, 48° FAHRENHEIT

  SKIES CLEAR, WIND CALM

  I woke to an eerie silence. The wind had stopped. The dust had settled.

  Serene, James and Gannon were all asleep, everyone with pillows over their heads. It felt like I was waking from a terrible dream. My head was throbbing, my ears ringing. My lungs burned with each breath. Our tent leaned awkwardly to one side. The support poles were twisted and bent. The roof had collapsed and was slumped in the center.

  The air was cold. Colder than it has been any morning since we arrived. Stepping from the tent, I pulled my jacket closed, buttoned it up over my neck, and went walking around the site.

  Outside, everything had changed. The camp was torn apart. Drifts of sand, some as high as twenty feet, stood where tents used to be.

  The sun was just peeking over the eastern dunes as I walked in the direction of the steps. When I got to where I thought they had been, I looked around, but saw nothing. Everything we have worked so hard to uncover, the staircase and walls that might very well have led to Cleopatra’s tomb, it’s all been buried by the storm. Lost in the desert. Almost as if it never existed.

  A camel after the storm

  GANNON

  After experiencing a storm like that, it’s a miracle archeologists ever find anything in this desert. I mean, it consumed the excavation site whole, concealing everything under deep hills of sand.

  Serene said we were lucky, that it could have been worse, which is really hard for me to believe, but apparently this storm was minor compared to the storm Egyptians fear most. It’s called a “Khasmin” and it packs 100+ mile-per-hour winds and can last for 50 days! I can’t even imagine.

  The decision now is whether to continue the dig or abandon this place altogether. After this whole ordeal, I can’t help but think that maybe there’s a reason Cleopatra has never been found. Maybe she’s not supposed to be found. Maybe her secrets are meant to remain just that—secrets, for eternity!

  WYATT

  11:27 AM

  When we entered Dr. Aziz’s tent this morning, we found him pacing.

  “This isn’t it,” Dr. Aziz was saying to himself. “This isn’t the place.”

  We all looked at each other, not sure how to react.

  “All those years of work, and I’ve got it all wrong.”

  “How could you say that?” Serene asked.

  “If we’d found any evidence this was the place, we would forge ahead,” he said. “However, I’m afraid Cleopatra is not here.”

  “But all of your research led you to this location,” I said. “And we’ve found the steps.”

  “We have no proof that there will be anything of significance down those steps. The chambers we’ve seen on the radar appear to be empty.”

  “But they may not be,” I said.

  “I’m telling you, we are in the wrong place. This is just like my experience in the Valley of the Kings when I was certain I had found the burial place of Nefertiti. Once again, I’ve made a terrible mistake. I must stop this excavation at once.”

  He then stormed across the tent and disappeared out the door. We just sat there, quietly looking at each other.

  What happens now, I don’t know, but I’m afraid the fellowship may be coming to an end.

  WYATT

  12:13 PM

  Khalid just informed us that the military police are insisting the excavation continue, regardless of what Dr. Aziz says. Why they are being so adamant that we continue, I’m not sure; but it does make me question their motives. Dr. Aziz argues that he is in charge and the decision is not theirs to make. Outside, tensions are growing. People are arguing with one another and there’s all sorts of shouting. I’m honestly worried things are going to spiral out of control.

  The military police

  GANNON

  Lots of the workers were taking down tents and packing up tools and equipment, while the military police yelled and pointed guns at everyone, demanding they get back to work. To tell the truth, I don’t trust these guys at all, but there was really nothing I could do so I just started jogging away, wanting to remove myself from the whole mess.

  I climbed a far dune and walked down the back side until I couldn’t see or hear the camp anymore and then continued into a small valley between the dunes and just sat there for a while, trying to clear my head.

  Several dust clouds swirled in the wind, spinning across the desert floor like a crazy band of Tasmanian Devils. My shoes were filled with sand so I took them off and dumped it out and walked around barefoot for a while. The sand was new, almost cool, just put down by the storm and not yet baked by the sun.

  Walking through this valley, looking up at the dunes on either side, I was caught by surprise when my foot struck a hard object. Wow, did it hurt and I hopped around on one leg a few times and finally fell back into the sand, thinking for sure that I’d cut it wide open. I brushed away the sand from my foot and breathed a huge sigh of relief at finding only a small scratch near the arch.

  I was putting my boots back on when I noticed what I’d stepped on. The edge of a long, flat stone buried in the sand. I knelt down and carefully brushed off the sand, exposing a rectangular slab with etchings across it. Because of the storm I couldn’t tell where anything had been and wondered if this stone was part of the same complex we’d been excavating or if it was some completely different section that Dr. Aziz didn’t even know about.

  I kept scooping sand away and suddenly it started to give and sink down beneath the stone, almost like sand falling through an hourglass. I scrambled backwards on my hands to keep from being sucked down with it and watched as more of the stone was revealed. When the sand finally stopped, one side of a large entryway stood before me with all kinds of elaborate carvings on it. I stood up to take it all in and that’s when my eyes caught sight of something I could hardly believe.

  On one side of this stone slab was a grouping of smaller tiles, each carved with the same design. After focusing on it for a moment, I could make out the carving. It was the profile of a human face. A woman’s face!

  A chill ran through my arm as I reached into my satchel to retrieve the piece from the shopkeeper. When I compared the two, looking at one and then the other and back again to make absolute sure my eyes weren’t playing some kind of trick on me, I almost fell over.

  I gathered my footing and ran back towards the camp as fast as I could.

  “Stop!” I yelled. “Everyone stop packing up!”

  The men’s shouting quieted and everyone turned to see what I was yelling about. Khalid and Dr. Aziz came out of their tent.


  “We can’t leave,” I said, trying to catch my breath. “We have to stay.”

  “I’m sorry,” Dr. Aziz said, “I’ve given orders. We are to abandon the excavation at once.”

  “No,” I said, trying my best to ignore the nerves that had my stomach doing flips. “We can’t abandon the dig!”

  “Unless you have good reason to do otherwise,” Dr. Aziz said, “we’re departing before nightfall.”

  “Listen to what the boy has to say!” the military police commander shouted, his arms resting on the barrel of his machine gun.

  Everyone went dead silent. I swallowed my fear and spoke.

  “We’re in the right place,” I said. “Cleopatra is here. I’m sure of it.”

  “How can you be certain?” Dr. Aziz asked.

  “I’ll show you. Come with me.”

  We all went up and over the dune and came down into the valley where the entryway stood.

  “What is this?” Dr. Aziz said quietly to himself.

  “Many years ago, there was a man who came close to finding Cleopatra’s tomb,” I said. “His name was Rifa’a Kamil.”

  Dr. Aziz returned his eyes to me.

  “I know of this man, Kamil,” Dr. Aziz said. “He was an archeologist.”

  “That’s right.”

  “If I remember correctly, he went into the desert one season and was never found.”

  “Yes!” I said. “This very desert! We met his grandson in Cairo and when I told him that we were going in search of the Queen, he gave us a relic that had been given to him by his grandfather.”

  I held out the piece. Dr. Aziz took it in his hand and ran his thumb across the profile.

  “Now look at the etchings on the entryway,” I said. “See the center tile?”

  Dr. Aziz moved closer and squinted his eyes. He did a double-, then a triple-take.

  “Unbelievable,” he said to himself. “Truly unbelievable.”

  A smile crept up one side of his face, as he continued to compare the etching on the piece with the one on the entry-way. We all held our breath, waiting for him to speak. Finally, he looked up at everyone.

  “Despite our recent progress,” Dr. Aziz said, “I have been plagued by many doubts. Even finding the steps did not ease my uncertainty. I’ve found steps like this before that have led to nothing. Three others at this site alone. I was beginning to think that my time was up, that maybe I would never discover my 100th tomb.”

  Again, Dr. Aziz looked at the relic.

  “Are you confident this man was truly the grandson of Rifa’a Kamil?” he asked.

  “I am,” I said.

  Dr. Aziz clinched the relic in his hand and gazed up at the sky, like he was trying to communicate with the heavens or something. Then he looked out over the crew.

  “My friends!” he shouted, “I believe we have been delayed long enough!”

  “Does that mean we’re continuing the excavation?” Serene asked.

  “We have no choice,” he said with a smile. “History depends on us.”

  WYATT

  MARCH 7, 12:07 AM

  TOMB COMPLEX

  16° CELSIUS, 61° FAHRENHEIT

  SKIES CLEAR, WIND 5-10 MPH

  To find a piece that was so similar to the one the shopkeeper gave to Gannon, well, the odds are astronomical. It’s just like that donkey whose foot fell through the hole at the Valley of the Golden Mummies, but this time, instead of a donkey it was Gannon, which, come to think of it, is pretty much the same thing.

  I do have an issue with Gannon’s theory that this relic is proof that Cleopatra is here. All it really proves is that this is the location where the shopkeeper’s grandfather was digging for the Queen. But, there’s no proof that the shopkeeper’s grandfather was digging in the right place. He disappeared, so no one really knows.

  As an aspiring scientist, I’m always looking for undeniable proof. Even though I don’t agree with the decision-making process, which is basically “ignore all logic and go with your gut,” I’m with Gannon and Dr. Aziz. It seems much of what an archeologist does is based on gut instinct. Besides, who am I to argue with a man who has discovered 99 tombs?

  We’ve come this far. To give up now would be wrong.

  The discovery of the entryway was not enough to convince everyone to stay. Because of the storm, some believe that a curse is upon us and that anyone who continues working is in danger. There was no changing their mind. In total, seventeen men left camp today. Before they did, they all apologized personally to Dr. Aziz.

  This did not discourage him in the least. In fact, he respected their decision.

  “These beliefs have been passed down for centuries and cannot be discounted,” he said.

  Since we now have a much smaller crew, Dr. Aziz ordered new radar scans taken of the tomb complex and for all of the hallways and chambers to be outlined in the sand with strings and flags.

  Everyone who stayed was far too excited to just stand around. It was getting dark, so we brought in floodlights and took up shovels and started clearing more of the entryway. This went on well into the night, before Dr. Aziz ordered everyone to get some rest.

  I’m seated at the desk inside the tent, writing by candlelight. Everyone else is asleep. I should be sleeping, too. It will be light in a few hours and the next few days are sure to be long.

  GANNON

  MARCH 9

  NIGHTTIME

  There’s been lots of good progress since the storm. We’re now beyond the entryway and are carefully removing sand and rock using these smaller hand-shovels and brushes so that we don’t damage any of the stonework.

  I haven’t been able to write a word in my journal for almost two days now. I mean, I’ve been so whipped I could hardly lift a spoon to my mouth or water to my lips, much less pick up a pen and scribble in my journal. My hands are raw and blistered and throbbing like they have their own heartbeat.

  Our evenings go pretty much like this:

  When we finish our work we head to the dining tent for rice and beans or falafels with flat bread and some hot tea. After eating, I don’t even have the energy to wash up and usually just stumble into the tent and collapse onto my cot, still wet with sweat and covered in sand. I’m always sleeping like a mummy within seconds and that’s a good thing because it doesn’t give my brain much time to think about curses and all.

  Okay, I’m falling asleep at the desk. Time to hit the cot and catch some Zs.

  WYATT

  9:32 PM

  This afternoon we uncovered two intricately carved limestone pillars. The crew is very tired and we’re working a little slower today. Personally, my shoulders and back are in serious pain.

  It’s been tough going, but no one wants to stop. I have volunteered, along with the other fellows and most of the crew, to work another two-hour shift ending at midnight. After some sleep, those of us who are able will wake, wash up, eat a quick breakfast and return to work. The first shift tomorrow begins at 5:00 AM.

  Pillars at the tomb complex

  GANNON

  AROUND MIDNIGHT

  Okay, being cursed isn’t my biggest fear anymore. I mean, I’m still worried about it, for sure, it’s just not my biggest concern. What concerns me most are the military police.

  With their dark uniforms and unfriendly faces and huge guns, they’re totally intimidating, no way around it, and even though I’ve been skeptical about these guys from day one, up until now I haven’t said much. But tonight after dinner, I had to go and open my big mouth.

  “Excuse me,” I said, catching the commander as he walked past. “I’m just curious. What exactly are the police doing here?”

  He stopped dead in his tracks.

  “I’m sorry, young man?” he said, locking his eyes on mine. “What did you say to me?”

  I gulped, and asked again.

  “I was just wondering why we need so much security?”

  Questioning this man, I realized right away, was a huge mistake.


  “We are working in the interest of the Egyptian people,” he said. “We are here to protect the antiquities from tomb robbers. We are here to make certain that the country’s heritage is preserved.”

  The volume of his voice increased with each sentence making it pretty clear that he wasn’t too happy with me.

  “And who are you to question my purpose?” he asked.

  “I’m sorry,” I said timidly. “I didn’t mean it like that. It was just a simple question.”

  “You are a foreigner. I should be skeptical of you. What exactly is your purpose?”

  I was nervous now and began to stammer.

  “Oh, well, uh … I’m one of the winners of the Youth Exploration Society fellowship,” I said. “I’m here with Dr. Aziz.”

  I’d hoped that dropping Dr. Aziz’s name would make the commander cool off and leave me alone. It didn’t.

  “Fellowship or not,” he said, “I see you as an intruder. There is a long history of foreigners raiding this country for its ancient riches. Why should you be any different?”

  “No, I wouldn’t, uh, I’d never …”

  I was scared. Fumbling my words. I couldn’t complete a sentence.

  “Did you know that in ancient times tomb robbers faced brutal consequences if they were caught?” he asked.

  I shook my head.

  The man moved closer to me and lowered his voice.

  “They were sacrificed in the same way an ox was sacrificed to the gods. Cut open and left to bleed. Then, their bodies were burned. This was the ultimate punishment. Having their bodies turned to ash. After death, they could not be reborn.”

  The commander put his hand on my shoulder and all the air went out of me. I literally couldn’t breathe.

  “If I were to catch a tomb robber today,” he continued, “I would not go to the trouble the ancient authorities went to.”