I Am Afraid

My brain was screaming for action but my body remained frozen, whether due to shock or some influence of the green light or whatever. Slowly it turned its head, taking us in, one by one. A quiet smile played upon its face. “So much life. I have been in the abyss too long. You creatures are strong here. Not strong enough.” It examined one of its hands. “This vessel. So fragile. It will suffice.”

The other gun man in the room pointed his gun at his former boss. “What did you do to Johnny?” he demanded.

“Johnny?” There was a moment of confusion. “Do you mean this creature here?” it asked, gesturing to the crumpled figure on the ground.

The gun remained on target. “You know I do.”

“I blessed him. He has become the first to be enlisted in my Army of the Dead. I am sure he will be more useful in that role than he was in this existence.” That must have been all the gun man needed to hear. He fired his gun at his former boss. From the way the body reacted, the bullet connected with it but was unable to knock it down. Another bullet was fired with a similar reaction. The man's confidence in his firearm visibly faded as he emptied the clip. “I see that you are eager to join my Army.” Calmly he stepped towards the gun man, who remained frozen in his position. With the gentle placing of his hands on the gun man's shoulders, the gun man collapsed, dropping like a marionette who had its strings cut.

The loud report of gunfire in such a confined spot had been enough to shake me from my haze. I pushed myself away from the possible path of bullets. As the creature had approached the gun man, I had approached Ms. Chapman. She was still frozen, rooted to the spot. I nudged her with my shoulder. “Come on, time to go.” This did little to unphase her. I would have liked to have drag her away but we were both still bound, out wrists trapped behind our backs by a sturdy plastic loop. It also occurred to me that I wasn't sure which path to take to escape. I knew essentially where I was but, not having been in the exhibit previously, I didn't know the twists and turns. A moment's hesitation could be our end.

I continued nudging her, trying to break her free. Just as she seemed to be reacting, the creature turned its attention to us. There was something in the coldness of its stare that froze a person in place. “You two. Not warriors like these were I sense. You have intelligence. The Army also requires strategists. Planners. Officers.” Still with the faint smile playing about its lips, it advanced towards us. “You will do nicely.”

“Intelligence?” I echoed, babbling with nerves. “I don't know about that. I mean, I think I'm clever. My mom thinks I'm smart but most moms think highly of their children, right?”

“Under my influence, your nonsense will be removed; your intelligence focused. You will prove to be very useful.” It continued to advance. “What do you accomplish here? You eat, you work, you sleep, you reproduce. What impact do you have, truthfully? In my service, you will do great things. Powerful things. You will be important.”

Ms. Chapman was now pushing back against me. As I backed up, so did she. At least for the moment we were keeping some distance between us and it. “It's not every day you get a job offer,” I joked. Surprising how helpful a joke, even a bad one, can be in a situation like this. “What does the position entail?”

“There are those that have wronged me. They have misjudged my intentions. They must be shown the error of their ways.”

“Is it the killing that maybe makes people misjudge you?” I asked. There's a wall behind me. Crap!

“I bring peace. I bring the end to confusion. To pain. In serving me, there is only focus. All will be decided for you. The rewards are great.”

“I like the benefits package where I am, thank you.” Where's the door? There should be a door somewhere! It's too dark to see at the moment.

Our lack of movement seemed to activate something in Ms. Chapman.”What are you?”

The creature pressed. “Am I gone that long? Has the memory of me faded or perhaps disappeared? The fading coals of my remembrance shall be fanned to a raging fire. They will burn as will this world! I am Set! Seth! Sutech! I am the storm and the desert! I am your lord and master!” With a gesture the bodies of the gun men rose from the floor to stand at his side. “As they join me, so shall you.” His hands stretched out towards us.

The Exact Opposite of Good

Not having had the chance to go through the Jewels exhibit yet, I didn't immediately recognize our location. It was a larger room with a number of display cases visible in the dim lighting. At the center of this space was Ms. Chapman with her hands also bound behind her back, the gun man, and a case with a solitary green jewel. The scene was illuminated by one major light as well as a light in the display case with the green jewel. This I found odd as it was the only such display case to be so lit. Why would that one case still have power?

On the fringe of the hazy light I could make out a couple of other gun men. Either they didn't notice me rolling over or they had no instructions to shoot me if I did. Good. Finally something going our way.

Boss gun man was working the case open to get at the jewel inside. You would think that the prize of the collection, as this clearly was, would be hard to fence. Perhaps he already had a private collector lined up to buy it. Or maybe he planned to hold it for ransom. Its not like he shared his plan with us. Really, why should he? He's here to steal it and we want to prevent that if at all possible. The rest is currently only details.

The gun man's fidgeting paid off as the case finally came loose. He smiled as he removed it and set it aside. “Finally!”

As he reached for the gem, my blood ran cold. Suddenly I realized that the gem wasn't glowing due to some light hidden in the case, it was glowing on its own! Instinctively I knew this was a Bad Thing. I struggled to sit up, which can be surprisingly difficult when your hands are bound behind your back. “No! Don't touch it!”

I was ignored. Boss gun man picked up the jewel. The glow grew brighter. It was in his closed hand and I could still see it glowing through the flesh of his hand! An eerie glow that screamed of things not right.

We all seemed to realize that this was a Bad Thing. Ms. Chapman had a front row seat for the show and her eyes were open wide in alarm. Even the gun men, barely visible to me, were shifting around nervously. Boss gun man just stood there, frozen, green light pouring from his hand.

The room grew cold. At least it felt colder. Maybe it was just fear that sent shivers up and down my spine. I fought at my bonds, knowing I needed my mobility. This just felt bad.

One of the gun men stepped forward from the gloom into the light. “Paul? You okay man?” Concerned, he rested his hand on Boss gun man's shoulder.

The man's eyes rolled back into his head. Limply, he fell to the floor. Ms. Chapman's mouth opened, I think to scream, but no sound emerged. My heart was racing. I wanted to climb to my feet and run but my body was frozen. I just sat there and stared. Somehow I knew that man was dead.

Slowly, Boss gun man moved his head to observe the crumpled body at his feet. “There is no Paul. There is only Set.”

This is Unpleasant

Ow. Ow. Ow.

Coming to is not the same as waking up but they are related. Waking up can be casual and calm. It can be sudden. There may be a moment of panic but it tends to clear rather quickly unless there is reason for it to not.

In my experience, if you pass out or are knocked out, you tend to come to in a location different to that where you lost consciousness. The 'where am I and how did I get here?' panic is a bad thing and not always easily resolved, even when the process is gradual.

One of the other major issues with coming to is that there is almost certainly some associated pain. Did you consume more than your daily recommended allotment of alcohol before passing out? Then coming to will bring you to HangOverLand, not the happiest place in the world. Did you have an exceptionally active day, full of good work in the great outdoors? Coming to will remind you of just how active you were with the soreness of your muscles. Did you get slugged in the jaw hard enough to drop a fully grown horse? Then your face will hurt when you return to consciousness.

That's what I slowly became aware of; out of the nothingness came a dull ache that grew and grew to become an impressive amount of pain. There was nothing but the pain, throbbing and overwhelming. As my capacity to think about it engaged, I began to worry that my jaw may be broken. It didn't seem to be an unreasonable possibility. Carefully I worked to shift my jaw to either prove or disprove this theory. This proved much more difficult than I expected.

This difficulty was not down to the condition of my personage but its location. I was in contact with something that prevented motion, something that felt refreshingly cool. Groggily I peeked an eye open but that didn't immediately resolve my confusion. Wherever this was there was more dark than light. I inhaled deeply, dragging dust and cleanser into my lungs.

Suddenly everything clicked. I was lying on the floor, my left side in direct contact with the linoleum. Is this linoleum? It's not important. What's important is that I'm on the floor, facing a wall, and my wrists are tied behind my back. I've come to in better conditions than this.

Just as suddenly, I realized I'd been hearing a conversation and not really been able to focus on it. It was time for that to change. “Do you really believe any of that?”

“No, not really.” That was Ms. Chapman. The other speaker sounded like the gun man from the loudspeaker. The boss probably. Ms. Chapman continued. “It sounded like a clever story to accompany their security procedures. If you must steal it, you may be devaluing the gem by handling it roughly.”

“I must steal it. If you're lucky, I might even treat you roughly before we go.”

A note of concern lept into her voice. “You promised...”

He interrupted with a laugh. “Yeah, well, I say a lot of things.”

I didn't know if I could roll over, bound as I was. I didn't know if it was a good idea to roll over. Perhaps they'll notice and shoot me. I felt a need to see what was going on. Besides, the right side of my face needed some cool floor therapy as well.

I tucked my hands in as best I could. I adjusted my feet, hoping that I could position them in a manner where they would act as brakes. I threw my shoulder back to generate momentum. I managed to roll over without smashing the other side of my face into the floor. Much.

Ouch

After a few more moments of strategy, we broke for action.

Ms. Chapman and I walked down the up escalator between the second and third floors. As it was still inactive, this was not complicated. This landed us on the opposite side of the floor from the other bank of escalators, which would be used by Harry and Larry. It also put us slightly closer to the door to the Jewels exhibit. We walked past the Bison Hunt on the side with the hidden snake button and towards the Pow-Wow. Poking our heads around the corner, we saw we'd beaten the gun men to the goal. Cautious, but slightly more relaxed, we stepped into the pool of light before the doors.

It's really very thick looking glass. I don't know if it's meant to be the shatterproof type that they have in banks but it looks like very serious glass indeed. Given time and enough damage, I'm sure the gun men would get it to break. It would no doubt be quite a mess.

The escalator, well, stairwell at the moment, erupted with noise. The gun men burst from the opening. A very upset looking man made a beeline for me. In a flash, his fist was raised, my face exploded in pain, and everything went dark.

The Next Wrinkle

As we tried to determine our next course of action, a new wrinkle was added to the mix. The lights briefly returned and went back out. Presumably other circuit breakers were tested until the loudspeaker crackled to life. For a time there was only distant noise being broadcast but eventually a grumbling became clearer and clearer. This culminated in a while of feedback and the sound of microphone adjustment before speech was deliberately broadcast.

“Okay lady! Very funny! I'm trying to be nice here. I wanna do this the easy way for both of us. No fuss, no muss, in and out without having to bust up the joint too much. But let me tell you this: you only get once. That's it! And that was it! You got ten minutes to meet me at that door and open it or we're gonna start throwing dummies at that thick glass window until it breaks. We may get a little trigger happy at that point too. Ten minutes! Tick-tock! And bring your chair-swinging boyfriend with you too!” Squealing, the microphone was roughly thrust aside.

Larry broke the awkward silence. “Well, he certainly sounded cross.”

Harry hummphed with irritation. “Thank you for that observation. I don't know that we had noticed that.”

“It's not an unreasonable point to make,” I interjected. “There didn't seem to be any bluster in that speech. He's mad and likely to do what he says he'll do.”

Ms. Chapman was clearly uncomfortable. “I don't wish to return to his clutches. At the same time, if we don't placate him, I'm concerned about the consequences, not so much for the building, but for the people yet inside.”

“We don't know who is left in the building,” Harry pointed out.”We may well be all there is left.”

“There are some left in the office,” Ms. Chapman retorted. “They were captured with me.”

“They may already be dead at the hands of these violent men,” Harry suggested.

“If they are not?” Ms. Chapman demanded. “If they are unharmed and become harmed due to my inaction? How should I feel then?”

“You're starting to make me feel guilty for pulling you away from them,” I noted.

“Had I thought it was that bad an idea, I could have resisted more.” She smiled slightly. “It's not like I wanted to stay with that criminal and help him accomplish his wicked goals.”

Harry was clearly concerned. “It doesn't seem right that you should give yourself up like that. There must be something we can do to help.”

Larry blinked. “We?”

“You and I,” Harry explained. Larry just stared at him dully, causing Harry some excitement. “You're not just going to tell me that you're just going to walk out on these people in their moment of need, are you?”

“Can we?” Larry asked.

“No we cannot,” chastised Harry.

Larry smiled brightly. “I was only checking.”

I had a thought. “It seems that our problem, at a very basic level, is that these bad guys have hostages. If you two can try to free them, it removes that bargaining chip from their side. I know it won't be as simple as that...”

Harry interrupted. “Sir, you may rely on us.”

Catching Up

As I had intended, we retired to Morocco to compare notes. My chair went from weapon to seat for Ms. Chapman. I don't know if it was the glasses or the polite maturity of her good looks or just her tone but she very quickly took charge of the discussion. Maybe it was because we were standing before her like naughty school children before a teacher. It was a little distracting. As I had less to say than Harry and Larry, this was not a big problem for me. We related our side of the situation, some of us more concisely than others.

Ms. Chapman's story was both grim and incomplete. She had been in the lower level offices, discussing what yet needed to be accomplished this evening, when the gun men had interrupted, led by a terrified young employee that had been forced to bring them inside. The gun men had further forced their way to the main fusebox in an effort to shut off the alarms. The labels proved to out of date on the circuit breakers and the lights were shut off in error. This outage led to a brief struggle between a custodian and a gun man that ended with the power mostly off in the building and the custodian badly wounded from a bullet wound. Unfortunately for the gun men, the electronic door locks were controlled by a separate power supply, as a security measure, and the door to their target was still barred to them. This is what had led to Ms. Chapman being on the second floor and being hassled for the code, which is where I came into her story.

There was much we did not know. Were there any other civilians yet in the building? How many other Museum employees and/or volunteers were still in the building? How many gun men were there in total? We didn't know. There was much we didn't know about our current situation and that was a concern.

My mobile communications device had no signal in this part of the building. Ms. Chapman's mobcomm was in her purse, which was in the offices on the ground floor of the Museum. Similarly, Larry had left his mobcomm in their truck, not expecting to need it. Harry had his mobcomm with him and had a signal but had some issues with the device. He wasn't confident that he could successfully make a call. The history behind these issues soon became clear as he nervously fumbled with the device, dropped it, thanked Larry for picking it up, looked puzzled when it didn't work, finally realized the battery had fallen off, reattached the battery, restarted the device, dialed 911, and the battery ran out of charge. We were returned to square one.

Forward is Sometimes Backward

At the foot of the escalator that was normally the 'down' escalator from the third floor to the second, she stopped me. “Why?”

I sought to keep her quiet. “I'm hoping to confuse them,” I whispered.

“It's already working on me,” she noted. However, she did head up the steps once she'd thrown my hand back to me.

Once upstairs, I confused her further by heading towards Morocco. She stopped me when we were barely in Africa. “Look, I appreciate your help but I don't know why I should be following you right now. Or at all.”

I put on my friendliest smile and extended my hand in greeting. “Patrick Thompson, volunteer and trouble-getter-into-er.”

She looked at my hand, apparently uninterested in touching it again. “Diana Chapman. I'm a curator in the Egyptology department.” She gave me a stern look made more effective by the fact that we were in the light and I could see it. “I'd have more confidence if you identified yourself as someone who gets out of trouble rather than into it.”

“Point well made,” I agreed. “Consider it changed.”

I turned towards Morocco again but this caused further speech. “Where are you going?” she demanded.

Before I could answer, Harry came from around the corner, looking rather cross. “Could you two please be quiet? You are affecting our equipment.”

His appearance made Diana no happier. “Who is this now?”

Harry put on the charm again. “Harold Norville at your service, ma'am.” Upon hearing of Diana's role at the Museum, he grew quite nervous, fumbling with the buttons on his shirt. Chuckling nervously, he noted “We were just leaving you know. Nearly done with our readings. Plenty of numbers to crunch.”

Larry now joined us, also looking quite cross. “Can you keep it down? If we're going to be here all night, I need to rest.” Having made his statement, Larry walked off. Harry winced before smiling and trying to chuckle this away.

It didn't work.