**********************************************************
While Am-Shere collapsed around him, Imhotep watched in stunned disbelief as Anuk-Su-Namun turned and fled. He gripped the stone floor, trying to keep himself from falling into the pit of death below. He honestly did not know why he was holding on. His love had forsaken him and without her he had nothing to live for. He briefly wondered if she had ever truly loved him in the first place.
Maybe it would be better to just let go and slip into the darkness that waited for him again.
Yes, that was it. He would slip into darkness and away from the pain. Dimly he was aware of the pale faced couple embracing each other tightly amid the chaos that surrounded them. Again, he felt the pain hit him like a flood. That should be him and Anuk-Su-Namun. He should have defeated the Scorpion King by now, taking over Anubis' army and ruling the world with her by his side. A deep resounding shudder nearly dislodged him from his precarious perch while gnarled hands pulled at him from below. Imhotep's reason for fighting had fled with his dearest love. He couldn't pull himself out of this pit even if he wanted to. Grimly, he accepted that it was meant to be and that it was to all end here. Taking a deep breath, he closes his eyes and prepared himself to let go of the ledge and plunge into the fatal depths below when without warning his wrist was engulfed in a warm grip. Imhotep's eyes flew open and he gazed up into the face of his young enemy. The one called O'Connell.
"Give me your other hand!" The man urged reaching out to him.
Slowly, and barely conscious of what he was doing, Imhotep obeyed, reaching out to take the other man's hand. O'Connell deftly hauled him to safety. As he got to his feet, Imhotep opened his mouth to ask why when O'Connell and his woman each grabbed an arm and started dragging him forward.
"We have to move, now!"
As Am-Shere continued to crumble to dust, Imhotep allowed O'Connell to lead him out of the temple and back into the world as a mortal.
********************************************************** **
Rick O'Connell carefully stepped over the sleeping form of his son, making his way out of the boy's tent. He strolled through their small camp, while attempting to keep from falling flat on his face. There was no way he could let Evie find out that he had gotten this drunk. Even though it was well deserved, she would never let him live it down. Where Ardeth and the Med-Jai had aquired the booze, since it was against their way, he did not know, but he, Jonathan and Izzy had had no problem after what they'd been through with partaking in it. In fact, the Med-Jai seemed to have no problem with drinking it either.
It was only when he had finally gotten up to check on Alex and relieve his aching bladder that he'd discovered just how bad off he was. His head was swimming, he was seeing double, and he had a particularly nice buzz going. Yep, without a doubt he was drunk. How he'd gotten away without Evie noticing it he had no clue. Hopefully, the Med-Jai would keep her entertained until his head cleared a bit. It was painfully obvious that he was unsteady on his feet. He kept weaving from side to side and was also having trouble walking in a straight line. Some hero! The man who had defeated the Scorpion King was now so incapacitated he couldn't put one foot successfully in front of the other.
O'Connell cupped a hand over his mouth to muffle the sudden giggle that threatened to pour out, but burst out laughing when he nearly stepped into one of their water buckets. He glanced back over his shoulder to see if anyone had noticed. Evie, Jonathan, and Izzy were still sitting around one of the many campfires the Med-Jai Army had set up after getting clear of Am-Shere, talking animatedly with the men and Ardeth, although he couldn't actually see Ardeth right this second. This was probably due to his current condition. As he squinted in the firelight searching for the battle-seasoned Arab, a twinge in his groin reminded him of the reason he'd left the warmth of the fire to begin with. He resumed his walking and hadn't gotten more than a few yards when a hand fell upon his shoulder from behind. Startled badly, he whipped around, bringing his fists up, expecting for all the world to find a mummy, but instead was rewarded with a very bemused Ardeth Bey staring back at him.
"You startle easily my friend, " the Arab remarked, a twinkle in his eye.
O'Connell snorted. "Well, we'll see how you do when someone comes at you in the middle of the night out of nowhere after you've just been through hell and back!"
Ardeth laughed heartily.
"That I have been O'Connell…that I have been, but I am sorry." He said.
"And when you're so drunk you can't see straight." O'Connell continued digging a foot into the sand.
Ardeth's face darkened with concern
"Are you alright? You did consume a lot."
O'Connell rolled his eyes then sighed.
"Yeah, look, just don't tell Evie ok? She's not going to like it. I mean she barely tolerates Jonathan's habit as it is, but me?" He ran a hand through his reddish-gold hair. "She'll have my ass."
That raised a brow.
"That she already has, my friend. But look, an oasis is just over this first rise." Ardeth pointed toward the edge of the camp.
Not following him, O'Connell said. "So?"
The Med-Jai faced him. "The water in that particular oasis is very cold at night, O'Connell."
O'Connell's mouth formed a silent oh as it dawned on him what Ardeth was suggesting. "Got you! A cold dip will help sober me up a bit."
He tripped on something unseen and only Ardeth's cat-like reflexes kept him from toppling over.
"If you don't drown first." Ardeth muttered. "You, my friend, are drunk."
O'Connell, leaning heavily on the other man, stuck a finger in Ardeth's face, and wagged it back and forth.
"Nooo, you think?" O'Connell drawled, slapping a hand to his face and breaking into a fit of laughter. "Whatever shall I do?"
Ardeth sighed. "Why don't you go on? Jonathan and I will keep your Evelyn occupied."
O'Connell let out an enormous belch.
"Right!" He said, clapping the Med-Jai roughly on the back and nearly knocking him over.
Ardeth gave him an indignant glare of which O'Connell took no notice.
"You are truly amusing my American friend."
O'Connell scratched his head and glanced around.
"Hey, what happened to tall, dark, and scary?"
"You mean Imhotep?" Ardeth questioned.
"Yeah."
The Med-Jai stared thoughtfully into the distance.
"He's been keeping to himself on the outskirts of the camps. We gave him food, water, and a blanket and left him alone."
"Should we be worried?"
Ardeth shook his head. "He is mortal now. All his powers are gone. He is a broken man. I do not think he will be any trouble."
O'Connell gave him a wide grin and two thumbs up. "This is a good thing!"
Ardeth could only laugh. "Hurry my friend, before you are missed."
The Med-Jai received a sloppy salute in reply and watched as the American attempted to walk away. He seemed to be having trouble putting on foot in front of the other.
"Americans." Ardeth scoffed quietly. They were surely strange. He briefly wondered if sending an inebriated man to a large and potentially lethal body of water wasn't asking for trouble, but O'Connell seemed in enough control of himself so as not to be worried. There were enough camps around the area so that if he got into any trouble all he need do was scream loud enough for others to hear. Certain that his friend would be fine, the Med-Jai turned and slowly made his way back to the warmth of the fire.
********************************************************** **
Ardeth wasn't kidding about the water being cold. The minute O'Connell jumped in he headed directly for the surface spluttering and cursing the absent Med-Jai. As intoxicated as he was, the water had looked so refreshing that he'd foolishly jumped right in without testing it first. Big mistake. It had been like a thousand knives penetrating his body all at once. Climbing out of the freezing water, a tad more sober than he had been before, O'Connell vowed to get Ardeth back for this even if the guy had only been trying to help. He practically ran to the little niche in the rocks where he had left all his clothes, desperate for their warmth and started dressing. Pants still halfway open, and barefoot, he turned to find himself face to face with Imhotep. With a yelp of surprise, his hands went instinctively for his guns, only to clutch empty air where his holsters should be. He had left them in the camp with Evie.
His eyes darted from left to right, searching for an escape route. There was none. Imhotep continued to advance, robes swirling sinuously around him in the evening breeze.
"I-I don't know what you want." O'Connell retreated into the small enclosure until his back connected with the cool rock behind him. He was trapped. "Well, okay maybe I do. My head on a platter would probably be first on your list, but listen, I'm sure we can work this out."
Evie always told him that he could talk his way out of anything. Heck it was worth a shot, but he was silenced when Imhotep stepped forward and gently grasped the loosened bandana around O'Connell's neck, rubbing it thoughtfully between thumb and forefinger. O'Connell didn't know why the guesture bothered him so much, but he found that his mouth had instantly gone as dry as the desert that surrounded them. The Egyptian regarded him for a long moment then said.
"Why did you save me?"
O'Connell wasn't sure he'd heard right. When had Imhotep learned to speak English?
"What?"
Luminous Egyptian eyes bored into his own.
"Why did you save me?" he repeated.
O'Connell blinked in confusion. Imhotep had cornered him to ask him this?
"I don't know." He replied, slowly licking his lips.
The Egyptian cocked his head to one side.
"You don't know?"
What did the man want to hear? O'Connell shifted his weight nervously from one foot to the other wondering what to say.
"There must be a reason." Imhotep insisted, his face coming impossibly close to O'Connell's own.
Flustered by the other man's proximity, O'Connell heard his voice crack.
"It was the right thing to do?"
The Egyptian's breath was hot on his skin.
"In your language, I am a monster. I tried to kill you and those that you love and still you saved me."
O'Connell shrugged noncommittaly.
"Well, you know…all in a day's work."
The hand on his bandana grew tighter and O'Connell found himself wishing he was anywhere else but alone with this man.
His flippancy didn't seem to be working either as he watched Imhotep's eyes flash dangerously.
"I have more reason to hate you than anyone. You cost me everything!" he hissed. "Yet, I owe you my life."
This conversation was definitely taking a turn for the worse and O'Connell didn't like it one bit. He was in the middle of the desert, half drunk, unarmed, and facing a very pissed off three thousand year old Egyptian. A man who had plenty of reason to kill him where he stood, and he was fairly certain that if he shouted Imhotep would kill him before anyone could come to his aid. He was on his own. If he was going to get out of this intact, he was going to have to play for time. Gathering his wits about him, he ran a hand through his damp hair and flashed his most winning smile.
"Why don't we just call it even then? No hard feelings?"
Imhotep's lips curved upward in a cold smile that made the hair on the back of O'Connell's neck stand on end.
"I believe I shall take my revenge and thank you all at the same time."
Before O'Connell could question that strange statement, Imhotep's hand shot out, encircling his neck and yanked him forward, while the other wrapped around his waist pulling him into a crushing embrace. The Egyptian's mouth descended on his own in a bruising kiss.
Stunned, reflexes damped by booze, it was some time before O'Connell thought to place a hand to the other man's shoulder, shoving him roughly back.
"What the hell do you think you're doing!" he spat, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.
"Taking what is now mine."
Imhotep forced O'Connell's back into the rock once more, leaving him nowhere to run. He gasped when the Egyptian's fingers entwined in his shirt, ripping the delicate fabric down the front. The hard body covered O'Connell's own, pinning him in place while Imhotep's mouth latched onto his neck. A hot hand roamed over his bare chest and fingers pinched and pulled at his nipples until they were sore to the touch.
God! Not this! Anything but this!
O'Connell desperately tried to throw him off, but even without his unearthly powers Imhotep was unbelievably strong. He couldn't get any leverage and his limbs were to slow to respond to the signals of alarm coming from his brain. When Imhotep's lips found his again, the hand on his chest slid into his pants, cupping the warm flesh beneath. O'Connell gave an inarticulate groan and Imhotep used the opportunity to draw O'Connell's tongue into his mouth, suckling lightly. To his shame, O'Connell felt himself begin to harden as he jerked helplessly in the other man's arms. His head fell back and connected with the hard rock, causing him to momentarily see stars. It wasn't until they pooled at his ankles that O'Connell realized the Egyptian had managed to push his pants down leaving O'Connell bare and exposed to the other's hungry touch. He couldn't stop the moans that escaped him as the light touch on his penis changed to sure measured strokes, bringing him to full hardness. Imhotep broke from his mouth, tongue leaving a wet trail over his cheek, and came to rest on his earlobe where he began nibbling gently.
O'Connell's head was spinning and he wasn't sure if it was the alcohol, lack of air, or just the pure shock of the whole situation.
"You can't do this," he protested weakly. "I'm married. I'm married and I have a kid."
Imhotep's tongue lightly traced the outer shell of his ear.
"Marriage? This means nothing to me. You are mine!" He growled, tangling a hand in O'Connell's hair and brutally yanking his head back while stroking the American faster.
"Come for me, O'Connell." Imhotep whispered, before his mouth once again settled over O'Connell's own.
It was too much, his body went into overload and hips jerking with his orgasm, O'Connell cried out into Imhotep's mouth as the skilled hand brought him to completion. Warm pulses of liquid spilled forth from him, bathing the other man's hand with his release. O'Connell felt his knees give out on him and he collapsed to the ground, dragging Imhotep down with him. Dizziness hit him, and he closed his eyes only partially aware of the other man pulling off what was left of his shirt and untangling him from his pants. When his vision cleared, he was horrified to see that Imhotep had removed his loin-cloth and robe and was now generously coating his enormous cock with O'Connell's own seed.
"No."
Realizing what the Egyptian intended, he rolled over clumsily, clutching the cool sand beneath him and attempted to crawl away. Strong hands on his hips stopped him before he could get to far, and he lashed out with a poorly aimed, but vicious kick to the other man's face that Imhotep easily brushed aside. He was then yanked onto his knees and elbows, which forced his backside into the air. O'Connell nearly sobbed as gentle hands parted his cheeks.
"Please."
"Shhh." The Egyptian soothed, and O'Connell shuddered as he felt a warm burst of air brush gently against his sac. Something warm and moist probed at his opening and O'Connell gave a start when his mind was finally able to comprehend what it was.
Oh God!
It was Imhotep's tongue that was flickering back and forth across the small entrance, warm invader delving in and out of his opening, preparing him for the other's body. O'Connell groaned, his head dropping limply to the floor of sand beneath him in defeat.
This was unlike anything he'd ever experienced before and he heard Imhotep chuckle as his recently expended shaft rapidly took interest again. An arm encircled his waist, and O'Connell knew true panic when he felt the tip of Imhotep's shaft, slick with fluid, nudge at his entrance. The Egyptain's body stretched out over his from above. Immediately O'Connell resisted, lurching forward in an another attempt to escape, but the grip on his waist merely tightened and lips pressed softly into his hair. The other man's knees gently pried his own apart and the shaft between his legs pushed forward. As the blunt head popped through the first ring of muscle, O'Connell cried out in agony. He felt a hand slide soothingly over his hip and Imhotep stopped, allowing his body to adjust to the unwelcome invader.
It hurt. Oh man did it ever hurt, and O'Connell had thought he was big. It was like being torn apart from the inside out. Sweat began to fall down his forehead and into his eyes. He was mortified to hear himself whimper like a whipped dog. Imhotep whispered something into his hair, something in Egyptian that O'Connell couldn't understand and the man continued pushing, until he had entered fully. O'Connell bit his lip and nearly gagged when the sharp metallic taste of blood filled his mouth. Silken skin brushed along his buttocks as the other man's balls came to rest against him, and Imhotep rained light kisses all over his trembling back and shoulders.
The Egyptian rocked backward onto his heels, pulling O'Connell with him, impaling the American on his thick length. Both men cried out at the change in position -Imhotep with pleasure, O'Connell with pain.
It burned Oh shit, did it ever burn.
As Imhotep's hand threaded through his hair, O'Connell said breathlessly.
"I'll call out."
Imhotep pulled him close slick stomach pressing into O'Connell's back, the soft warm skin sliding sensously against him.
"Go ahead. Call to your wife so she may see you like this. I will not stop you."
And O'Connell knew that Imhotep had won. He would never allow Evie to see him like this. To witness what was happening to him. He heard the triumphant laugh from the man behind him and flailed his hands wildly for support as the Egyptian raised them both to their knees. The hand in his hair pressed into his forehead steadying him and Imhotep slowly began to thrust upward. This time O'Connell cried out in surprised pleasure, as Imhotep's length brushed against what could only have been his prostate, sending shockwaves of heat and pleasure throughout his entire body. O'Connell had heard of this kind of pleasure, read about it, but he never experienced it personally- had never let Evie touch him there. Every thrust from the Egyptian's hips brought the man's cock in contact with his prostate, sending electrifying shocks up and down O'Connell's spine. It was unbearable. His back arched and he felt the other man's face press against his own.
Imhotep's hand snaked from O'Connell's waist to his groin, wrapping around his throbbing cock, stroking it relentlessly in time with the Egyptian's thrusts.
O'Connell heard himself hiss at the dual sensations.
"You are mine Rick O'Connell." Imhotep reaffirmed as he pumped the American's straining shaft.
Wailing, O'Connell threw his head back, and suddenly found himself surging into that warm tight hand and pushing himself back into the other man's thrusts, welcoming the hot pleasure and pain. He bucked so hard that Imhotep lost the grip he had on O'Connell's member and the American found himself nearly weeping from the loss.
"No, don't stop!" He moaned, pleading. "Fuck me."
The words were out of his mouth before he even knew it, and when Imhotep's hand found him once more he knew he was lost.
Imhotep's thrusts began to come faster and more rapidly, signaling that he was close, while his hand frantically moved up and down O'Connell's heated length. O'Connell felt fingers tighten in his hair and yelped when the Egyptian's teeth unexpectedly sank into his neck, marking him. Imhotep's body shuddered and the Egyptian smothered his cries as he came into the American's shoulder. O'Connell felt warm liquid pleasantly fill his insides and followed him seconds later, spilling his fluid all over the desert around them. Panting from exertion, he went limp in the other man's arms, grimacing as Imhotep pulled out of his body. The grip on his waist loosened and O'Connell fell forward into the sand, coming to look back at the man behind him. Imhotep's face was flushed and his lips were still curved upward in a faint satisfied smile.
What have I done? O'Connell thought, dazed.
The Egyptian began pulling back on his clothes, and O'Connell could only lay there and stare at him, stupidly. As he finished dressing, something seemed to catch the Egyptian's eyes and he grabbed O'Connell's left hand, bringing it up in the moonlight to examine it.
A scowl crossed his face.
"This is a symbol of your marriage?"
"Y-yes," O'Connell heard himself reply automatically. "It's my…"
In one smooth move, the Egyptian wrenched the ring from his finger then promptly threw it directly into the middle of the oasis.
"My wedding ring!" O'Connell yelled in disbelief as the metal sank beneath the calm surface. A curse formed on the tip of his tongue and he started to get to his feet when his jaw was caught in an unbelievably firm grip, fingers digging painfully into a nerve in the side of his face.
The Egyptian's eyes seemed to burn into his very soul.
"You seem to forget that you belong to me now, O'Connell."
Warm lips brushed against his own and O'Connell prepared to bite, but Imhotep laughed and pulled away before he could.
"I will return for you in two days time. Be prepared."
And before he could react, the Egyptian had gone, disappearing under the cover of the night and swirling sand. O'Connell tried to get up but when he go to his knees he felt something warm trickle down the inside of his thighs. A pink and whitish fluid ran down his legs.
The whitish fluid he knew was semen the other was blood.
Eyes rolling back in his head, O'Connell felt the ground quickly rushed up to meet him.
He awoke in the same spot sometime later and staggered to his feet, wincing at the painful burning inside his rectum. It felt like he had been beaten up. He brought a hand to his aching head and groaned softly. His shirt was ruined. It lay in tatters at his feet. He pulled on what was left of it and reached down to pick up his pants and boots, carefully stepping into them. He didn't want to deal with anything else right now so he completely avoided Evie's tent as he entered the camp, and crept silently into Alex's. His boy was stretched out over a large pallet and resting peacefully. O'Connell watched him quietly for a moment then sank down beside him and slipped under the covers, curling up around the boy in a fetal position. Hooking an arm around the tiny waist, he pulled Alex close, burying his face in his son's soft hair and eventually fell into a fitful sleep. He didn't remember his wedding ring until the next morning.
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Ardeth Bey was beginning to wonder if their troubles would ever end. He raced through the camp coming to the O'Connell boy's tent and throwing back the cover. He found father and son wrapped tenderly around the other in a deep sleep. He hated to disturb them, but he had no choice.
Bending down, he reached out and shook the other man hard. "O'Connell wake up."
The American bolted upright with a cry that nearly toppled Ardeth backwards with the intensity of it until the American's fist balled in his tunic and yanked him savagely forward. He glanced into a pair of very angry blue eyes.
"Blimey, Dads! It's Ardeth!"
The boy tugged at his father's arm in an attempt to calm him. The American blinked several times rubbed at his eyes with his other hand then slowly released the Med-Jai.
Ardeth gave him an apologetic glance.
"I am sorry my friend, but I need you to please get dressed and come outside. We have a problem."
"Alright, alright." he groaned and hastily got to his feet, a flash of pain crossing his face so fleetingly that if it hadn't been for years spent honing his observation skills Ardeth would have missed it.
"Alex go back to sleep." O'Connell ordered.
"Cor, right Dads! Like I could after you just screamed bloody murder!"
O'Connell gave him a stern look. "Just do it."
The boy mumbled something unintelligible and turned over, dragging the blankets back over him. Ardeth watched the American pull on an extremely ragged shirt. He wondered what in the world O'Connell had done to cause its current condition. He decided it might be better not to ask. As they stepped out into the grey half-light of early morning, Ardeth eyed the American more closely. Was it his imagination or was his friend walking a bit stiffly this morning?
"What's wrong?" O'Connell asked, rubbing his face tiredly.
Ardeth was silent for a long moment before he finally responded.
"It's the creature."
The American's heard jerked up.
"He's gone."
"Gone?" O'Connell echoed, his voice tight and his eyes narrowing. "Gone where?"
"He left sometime during the night." Ardeth shrugged. His men were the best. They could track anyone or anything and not a one had heard or seen anything. Somehow the Creature had managed to allude them all. They had been fools to think that Imhotep was no longer a threat to anyone. "No one saw him go, but there are footprints leading back in the direction of Am-Shere and they don't belong to any of my men."
Both men looked at each other.
"And that's not the worst." Ardeth said, trying to keep the edge out of his voice and failing.
"It's not?" The American asked quietly.
"He's taken the book with him. The Book of Amun-Ra."
"Why would he take the Book of the Living?"
I 'm not sure, but I think he's returning to Am-Shere in an attempt to recover the Book of the Dead and use it to regain his powers."
The American gave him an incredulous look.
"Can he do that?"
The Med-Jai laughed, bitterly. "With those books he could do anything."
The sun slowly began to peek over the dunes, bathing the camp and the two men with its warm rays.
"But it makes no sense, he was a broken man. You said when she left him he wanted to die." He rubbed at his beard. " It's almost as if he's found something to live for."
Hearing the other man gasp, Ardeth turned just in time to see O'Connell dash over the nearest dune away from the camp, bend over and throw up. Following him in concern, Ardeth was stopped when the American raised a hand signaling him to keep his distance.
"Are you alright?" he asked, worriedly.
The American shook his head no and pulled his bandana off to wipe at his forehead. It was then that Ardeth noticed a strange mark on his friend's neck as the sun lit over the horizon. It looked like a passion mark, but that hadn't been there before had it? No, he was sure of it. O'Connell hadn't slept with his wife last night. He had been in the boy's tent all night long, of that the Med-Jai was certain. He had looked for O'Connell first in Evelyn's tent finding only her alone and fast asleep. So then where had that mark come from? As he observed his American friend, Ardeth glanced down just in time to see a trickle of reddish white fluid spill out from the bottom of his friends pants and trail over the top of his feet into the sand. Adreth found his eyes going back up to his friends face, over the torn shirt and pale complexion to the haunted blue yes, and with a sudden horrified clarity the Med-Jai knew.
He knew where the mark had come from, knew the reason for the stiffness in his friend's gait, knew the reason for the liquid spilling down O'Connell's leg, and remembered falling asleep the night before briefly wondering if his friend had made it back without drowning himself. Evelyn never came out of her tent to inquire about her husband's whereabouts. She had been exhausted when she announced she was going to bed and he'd just automatically assumed that O'Connell had slipped back into their tent before hand to sleep his condition off.
The American doubled over and threw up again. The sounds of his retching began to bring the others from their tents. Ardeth backed away when Evelyn came out of her tent and rushed up to her husband trying to see what was wrong. She must have smelled the alcohol on his friend from the night before for she started yelling at him for drinking too much.
"Rick! What is the matter with you? Jonathan worries me enough as it is! But look!" She said with dismay. "You've gone and lost your wedding ring. Dammit Rick!"
Her voiced faded into the background as Ardeth drew in a deep breath. He now knew the reason for Imhotep's return to Am-Sherr and why he'd taken the book. Feeling sick for his friend, the Arab looked up to see the American eyes locking on his own, ignoring his wife's tirade. They observed each other for a long time and then understanding crossed O'Connell's face and the look in his eyes changed to one of pleading.
By Allah, the man was pleading with him to keep silent and not reveal what he knew -not to O'Connell's wife, not even to O'Connell himself. How could he possibly refuse?
The Med-Jai gave a slight bow of his head in acknowledgement and O'Connell managed to give him a grim smile. With Evelyn still shouting at him about being irresponsible the American bent back over and resumed emptying the contents of his stomach on the ground.
Ardeth Bey gazed back into the rising sun. When the American recovered they must all be taken to safety. Their very lives were in danger, especially the woman and the boy. The creature would return for his prize, and the Med-Jai would be the only thing that stood in his way, but then, that had always been the way it was. His men would get the American's back to their home in London and the Med-Jai would face the creature once again. He walked back towards the encampment making his way to the men awaiting his orders. Amazing, he thought. We have come full circle. Twice now this creature had died, and twice he had been reborn. The man would not stay in a grave. Imhotep had found something to live for. Ardeth smiled. The ancient scripture was right. Death truly was only the beginning.
Disclaimer- Rick O'Connell was not harmed during this story; however, it took him weeks to get the sand out of his leather unmentionables.
Finis.