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Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Stephen Sommers. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Note on the Sequel: I’m sure by this point you’ve noticed quite a number of loose ends…which will all be relevant in the sequel, “Sinister Resurrection”. Don’t forget to check it out…
Author’s End Notes
Wow…every time I finish a story, I feel sad, even if it is just an editing thing. Well, it’s been really great, guys. I’d like to thank each and every one of my faithful reviewers profusely for all their encouragement throughout the writing of “The Mummy: A Final Rising”. You’ve all be absolutely fantastic these past seven months.
Special thanks go to the following people: winternightBliSs, TriGemini, Phantom Creedy Lover, Lucky Fannah, Whisperwings, Cookie004, muser321, kungfukitty2006 and chugirl2526.If there are others that I haven’t mentioned or have missed, sorry, but my thanks still go to you. I simply could not have done it without you guys.
Well, goodbye everyone! It’s been a wonderful time writing AFR, and even more enjoyable knowing that people read the story. I hope you all know just how much it all means to me. Don’t forget, there is a sequel! Now, read on, enjoy, and leave a review.
THE MUMMY: A FINAL RISING
Chapter Fifteen
MEMPHIS, EGYPT
The gunshot echoed throughout the large chamber and Sara, Cassandra and Samantha screamed. Rick jerked backwards, feeling the intense pressure of a bullet shooting through his stomach. He clutched uselessly at the wound, moaning, as Nefertari pulled back slowly, holding the just-fired pistol before her. She smiled evilly. Rick looked up at her painfully, taking short gasps of air, finding it difficult to breathe. It was taking everything he had to not scream. “Evy…?” he croaked weakly, his eyes wild and fearful. Nefertari laughed harshly, her words like slaps against his face.
“Evelyn is gone. She was too weak, and I have reclaimed my body, my heritage…and you shall not stand in the way. I don’t know why she bothered to marry such a pathetic person as you…”
Rick could feel the warm gush of his blood soaking his clothes slowly. Darkness was beginning to creep around the very edges of his vision. He could dimly register Alex yelling, probably trying to get to him, but someone was holding him back, maybe Jonathan…just keep Alex back. Don’t come any closer. She’s going to kill us all.
Tears started to leak down his face and the numbness that was just overtaking his stomach faded away, leaving nothing but a raw, agonising pain. “Evy…please, just come back…Evy…don’t leave me again…”
Nefertari was standing back now, holding the pistol at Rick’s chest. Then she moved the gun towards his head – just above the bridge of his nose, between his eyes.
“NO!”
It was Alex’s scream, and yet it sounded so far away. His ears weren’t working properly. Very breath was a struggle, a sharp ripple of pain ripping through his body. This can’t be happening to me. I want my wife back, my sweet Evy. But she’s going to kill me. This…thing…using Evy’s body…is going to…to…
“I’m terribly sorry, O’Connell, that you couldn’t live for much longer.” She didn’t sound sorry at all. “It’s just a shame that none of your ‘friends’ are coming to rescue you. See them all standing there uselessly, not even attempting to raise a weapon in your defence? See them just watching you?”
Rick stared at her. “I don’t care,” he said, completely meaning it. “This is between you and me, Evy.”
“I am not Evy!” she spat, cocking the pistol. Rick shuddered, every word an effort.
“Evy’s still there.” He closed his eyes. “I know you’re there, Evy. Come back to me.”
The barrel of the gun was pushed right up against his forehead. He opened his eyes and stared hard into Nefertari’s, searching for any trace of his beloved wife.
“Evy.”
Nefertari tightened her grip on the pistol, her finger aching to pull the trigger it rested on. He stared into her eyes…and for one second, the cold, harsh, deadly eyes softened into Evy’s kind, warm, loving ones. For that split second, Evy broke through. It was barely perceptible, but he still saw it. And he smiled softly, ignoring the aching pain throbbing in his stomach. Nefertari took control again, the gaze flickering back to her evil one. Rick felt strangely at peace, realising that this was his end.
“Fight her, Evy. Fight her. I know you can do it. I love you.”
Nefertari scoffed.
Hesitated.
And pulled the trigger.
“NO! NO!”
“Alex, stop, there’s nothing you can do –”
“LET ME GO TO HIM! HE’S NOT DEAD, HE CAN’T BE!”
“Alex…enough…”
Nefertari glared at the struggling Alex with distaste. “Well, if it isn’t Phäeton’s little worthless son. I see no point in killing you, though it would be satisfying.” Her ice-cold gaze turned to Cassandra, who was shaking her head and breathing shallowly, stunned to the point of complete silence. “Amarantha. How…nice…to see you. I’m afraid killing you again wouldn’t satisfy me, so I suppose I could allow you to live. After all, I got what I wanted before.” She caught sight of Ardeth, sneered, and looked at Jonathan. “Ah, Phäeton. My distant relative and descendant to this day. I always felt bad about you dying. Lady Ma'at-ferure wasn’t ever the same again.” Jonathan felt a deep loathing for Nefertari. She turned on her heel and walked away, dropping the gun to the ground as she did so. Cassandra looked over at Jonathan and Samantha, who were coaxing Alex into staying away from Rick’s body.
“Go to Sara,” she murmured to Ardeth. He did so, and Cassandra crawled over painfully towards Rick’s body. His blood stained her hands and clothes and she forced down the bile in the back of her throat when she saw the bullet hole in his forehead. She gently touched the underside of his head, trying to find out where the bullet exited, the professor in her taking over, shielding herself from his death. Her fingers met the sticky, bloody hole, and she pushed back tears, realising that the bullet had shot right through his head at a vertical slanting aim, right through the tip of the spinal cord, severing it. He didn’t even feel a thing. That brought her some relief. And his eyes were open – that meant he died quickly. But that didn’t change the fact that he was dead, and he wouldn’t be coming back. Part of her wanted to resurrect him, but that would be cruel. He’d live forever with the memory of his wife shooting him in the stomach and head. No, she wouldn’t resurrect him, even if she wanted to. The man was at peace now. He could finally let go of everything.
“Requiescat in pace,” she muttered, closing his eyelids softly. It was Latin, not Egyptian, and that seemed more fitting. Rick couldn’t stand Egypt. “Rest in peace…my friend.”
She looked up. Ardeth, Sara and Jonathan had given up on calming Alex down. Only Samantha was still at it.
“Alex, look at me.”
“No, I have to get to Dad, he’s not dead, he isn’t –”
“Alexander.”
“Stop it, Samantha, let me go –!”
“Jasunr.”
This made him stop. Alex stopped trying to pull his wrist out of Samantha’s grip. Tears wet his cheeks and his eyes were red from crying. Normally, crying in front of others would have shamed him, but right now he didn’t care. Samantha touched his cheek and dried them with her hand. Alex’s lip quivered and he broke down in tears. Samantha pulled him in for a hug, smoothing his blond hair to calm him.
“I’m here, Jasunr, Mama is here.”
Lady Ma'at-ferure, comforting Jasunr after Phäeton’s death, just as Yahmose comforted Meritamen after Amarantha’s death. It was tragically similar, Ardeth thought, as he watched Samantha whispering to him gently, relaxing him to help him accept his father’s death. Like a mother and a son.
Jonathan walked over to Sara. “Alex needs you. You’ll stay with him, won’t you? And make sure that he doesn’t do anything…well…?”
Sara nodded silently. Her eyes were filled with tears. Although she had heard him, her answer was completely different. “Poor Jasunr,” she whispered, her hands covering her mouth in shock and grief. “Last time he lost Phäeton.”
Jonathan looked dour, spotting Ardeth and Cassandra once again together beside Rick’s body. Cassandra couldn’t fight Nefertari now, not with her injured leg. Ardeth couldn’t. Alex couldn’t. Sara couldn’t. Samantha most certainly couldn’t.
He would have to.
Jonathan picked up a sword from the ground, and silently slipped away. No-one saw him leave.
His mouth went dry. She killed him. She killed him. Evy, his baby sister, the sweet English woman who loved Rick with all her heart. She killed him! No, Jonathan reminded himself, Nefertari killed him, not Evy. Evy is not Nefertari. You can still save her. She’s still there. Rick saw it. She’s still there. Evy can still be saved. I’ll get you back, Evy, I promise. For Rick. For Alex.
He wondered how long it would be before the others realised that he had gone off to confront Nefertari. Part of him wanted to run away again, back to the others and leave, hoping someone else would find Nefertari, but he stopped himself. It’s time to grow up, Jonathan Carnahan. You can’t stay a child forever.
He found her quickly. She was holding a scimitar and her cold gaze flicked over his body. She raised her eyebrow. “Why, hello there, Phäeton. I suspected that you would be the one to come after me.”
Jonathan struggled to translate the ancient Egyptian language in his mind. He was still nowhere near as good as he used to be with the language. Sure, he could speak Arabic fluently, but that was it.“Uh…yes…well…I’m not – quite – Phäeton –”
“Stop your awful mumblings, I speak English,” Nefertari said, her nose wrinkled in dismay. She observed Jonathan up and down, taking in his appearance. “You are not Phäeton. Phäeton served and protected me like no other. He was the only one I really liked in the palace, besides Pharaoh Seti. You, however, are not like Phäeton. You are loyal to your pathetic sister of this time. I must say, I am ashamed that direct descendants of me – me – turned out to be so…useless.”
Jonathan saw red. I am not useless!
“I would really like to spare you, reincarnation-of-Phäeton, but I can see that you intend to fight me, which means you are not with me. And if you are not with me then you are against me. I don’t like people who are against me.”
“I just want Evy back,” Jonathan said through gritted teeth. “There’s nothing for you here, Nefertari. Imhotep is dead. The Cult is banished. Leave Evy alone.”
Nefertari’s eyes flashed dangerously and Jonathan winced. He had been hoping to settle this with words rather than fighting, but that seemed a useless task. Nefertari was not one for words. “I think not,” Nefertari snarled. She spun her sword around in her hand. “This wasmy body. I have reclaimed it. Evelyn will not be coming back. She can’t come back. My grip is too strong.” She flicked her perfect hair back. “I never fought you, Phäeton, and I am curious to see if your position as Chief Med-jai was well-earned.”
It was without warning. She was almost too fast to actually see what she did, though from what Jonathan could gather was that she had flicked a dagger at him, the blade spinning through the air at a terrifying speed. Phäeton’s reflexes kicked in and Jonathan leaned back, catching the blade between his forefinger and thumb just before it reached his neck. As quickly as it had come, he threw the dagger back towards Nefertari, but she was too fast. She ducked out of the way and lunged at him with her sword. Jonathan barely managed to get his up in the nick of time to block the attack that no doubt would have proved fatal.
He rolled out of the way. These reflexes of his were no actually his, he realised that much. They were Phäeton’s, though unlike Nefertari, Phäeton wasn’t trying to overtake him. He was trying to help him, and Jonathan welcomed it. The blades clashed together again and again, the sounds echoing throughout the chamber. Every time the swords met, Jonathan had to keep reminding himself that this vicious, bitch of a woman was not his sister. He had no choice but to fight her.
Nefertari pushed Jonathan’s sword away, leaving a clear stab. She took a swipe at his neck and he leapt backwards – but not quickly enough. A stinging sensation rippled down his right cheek and he gasped, losing his footing and falling backwards to the floor, dropping his weapon. He touched his cheek and felt something wet…his blood. She had cut his face. Jonathan looked up, only to see the tip of Nefertari’s sword pointing straight at his exposed neck. One wrong movement, one wrong word, and that was his life out the window.
Nefertari sneered. “You’re good, Phäeton. Just not good enough for me. It’s a shame, really. You were a worthy opponent, just as Amarantha was, and Anck-su-namun was. I feel sad that it had come to this.”
She raised the sword and brought it down quickly. Jonathan raised and arm instinctively to block the blow, even though all it would do would end up as a decapitated arm –
Blam!
A gunshot cracked through the chamber like a whip. Jonathan winced and snapped his eyes shut, waiting for the pain, even though he didn’t see a gun on Nefertari anywhere. No pain came, so he opened his eyes.
Nefertari swayed on the spot, dropped the sword to the floor and clutched her stomach. She released a soft moan and fell to her knees. Jonathan automatically reached for her, grabbing her shoulders and lowering her properly to the ground where she shuddered and coughed, blood seeping out of a bullet wound. He examined it, not bothering to look up to see who had fired. It was a through-and-through and she was bleeding profusely. Her eyes flickered and she touched his face with her red-stained hand. Jonathan’s first instinct was to jerk away from the vile woman, but he froze when he heard her voice.
“Oh…Jonathan,” she sighed. Jonathan gaped. This was Evy. Fear captured him. Nefertari was gone, somehow, leaving Evy behind. She’s dying. She’s dying and she just came back! What do I do?
“It’s all right, Evy,” Jonathan said. “I’m here. You’ll be fine, I promise. You’re safe now.”
She shook her head, wincing with agony and tears pouring down her face. “I killed him. I killed him. Rick, oh, Rick…I killed him. Why? Why?” She began to sob, heaving for gasps of air in between her wincing of pain from the bullet. She was completely hysterical, not listening to Jonathan at all. “Rick, Rick…I love you, too, Rick…I wasn’t strong enough…Rick…he’s gone, isn’t he? He’s dead. No, no, no, no, no. I killed him. Rick…”
“Evy, please, save your breath,” Jonathan begged, trying to staunch the wound to stop the blood pouring out of her body. She pushed his hands away. “You’ll make it harder for yourself. We have to get you out of here. Now.”
“No,” she moaned, pushing him away in a stage of mental shock. “I’m dying…let me die, let me be with him…I can’t live like this, Jonathan…knowing what I’ve done, living without Rick…”
“You didn’t do it, Evy,” Jonathan stressed, holding back his tears. “Nefertari did.”
“I am Nefertari,” Evy gasped. Her breathing was irate and panicked, and it seemed as though every breath for her was an effort, every word was an effort. Her chest was struggling for air, her breathing sounding like the rasp of death. “I am her. We are no different…”
“I’m getting you out of here,” Jonathan murmured. “Stay with me, Evy, stay with me.” He made a move to lift her up but she stopped him, gasping with anguish.
“Look after Alex…please…” she whispered, closing her eyes. “I…love…you…Rick…”
Her chest stopped quivering and she sighed, her head rolling backwards and her eyes completely closing. Her body went limp in Jonathan’s arms.
She was dead.
He stared into her calm face. Evy’s face, not Nefertari’s. Even though she was dead, the softness had returned. He remained in that position for a few moments, cradling Evy’s limp body in his arms. Then he looked up and frowned sadly, feeling as though death had wrapped around his own body. Alex stood in the doorway, holding the pistol in his hands, still outstretched and smoking. His face was blank as if he had gone into shock. Then the gun fell from his grip, landing on the ground with a loud clatter. He dropped to his knees, staring at his shaking hands. No words were said between uncle and nephew for about two minutes, the only sound in the chamber was their breathing.
“It’s better this way,” Alex whispered, still staring at his hands. “Even if Mum came back, she wouldn’t be able to live with the memory. This way she’s with Dad, forever. Nefertari can’t get to her again. Right?”
“Alex…”
“I don’t regret what I did.”
His voice was so cold and hard that Jonathan cringed. He wanted to go to Alex but he couldn’t find the strength. Jonathan sighed and nodded. Alex spoke the truth. In the end, Evy had to go. It would have been torture for her to live day after day with the memory of her shooting her husband though the head, even though it wasn’t actually her who had done it. She was mentally scarred for life. Jonathan had to agree with Alex – it was better this way, for all of them.
Sara ran through into the chamber, spotted Alex and dropped down beside him, wrapping her arms around his body tightly. He held her back, and allowed the tears to run freely down his face. She kissed his cheek and muttered something to him. Samantha ran in shortly after. She saw Alex with Sara then saw Jonathan, holding Evy’s body in his arms. She flew over to him and touched his cut cheek gently with her hand, observing Evy sadly on the floor.
“You’re hurt,” she whispered. Jonathan caught her hand in his own, pressing his lips to her palm.
“It’s not bad,” he murmured. She rested her forehead against his, and the tears finally leaked out. He released the tears he had been trying so hard to hold in and he held Samantha closer to him, not wanting to let go. She kissed them away, holding him in comfort.
He sat beside them, staring ahead. His mind was a total blank. Nefertari killed Rick. Alex killed Nefertari. Evy died. He murdered his own mother.
It’s better this way. Mum can’t be hurt by Nefertari again, and neither can Dad. They’re together forever. They’re at peace. Nothing can harm them. Nothing.
Everything began to set in, finally. Alexander O’Connell broke down into heaving, gasping sobs, his shoulders shaking with every shuddering breath. Tears made their way down his face and his broken, pain-filled cries filled the silent chamber as he released it all. He let the tears pour down his face. He let go.
After some time he stopped, the numbness he had been feeling turning into pure anger. Anger at himself with what he had done. Why he had to do it. Because of Imhotep. He stood up, shaking. He tipped his head to the ceiling, his blond hair falling out of his eyes.
“Why? Why me? Why my parents? WHAT DID WE DO TO DESERVE THIS? MY MOTHER WAS NOT NEFERTARI!”
He clutched his raw throat, breathing unsteadily. Someone stood in the doorway, watching him. He didn’t notice. He didn’t care. He just wanted to vent his anger on something, anything.
Sara’s green eyes were glistening with tears as she saw him scream to the heavens. She remembered the anger she felt when Sairah, Dion, Anastasia, Berenice and Anatol died. She remembered that even though Ardeth stood by her during her period of grief and depression, she still couldn’t help but feel completely lost. She wanted to go Alex and take him in her arms, whispering to him words of comfort, but it was better for him to let it all out.
So she just watched him, waiting until he turned back to her.
“I’ll be taking them back to England,” Samantha was saying, “and I might even stay there. It’s a nice enough place, and Jonathan and Alex…” She paused, finding that words were not necessary. Jonathan had offered her a future with him, and she had accepted. “Will you be okay, with your leg? I can always give you a lift –”
“It’s all right, Sammie,” Cassandra interrupted. “I’ll be fine. I’m going back with Ardeth and Sara.”
Samantha smiled and the two women shared a friendly hug and she turned away, limping back towards the newly-found camels where Ardeth and Sara were waiting for her.
Before Alex had gotten into the plane, however, Sara had spoken to him.
“You’ll be okay, Alex?” she had asked gently, touching his arm. What a stupid question. Of course he won’t be okay! He’s lost both parents in one day! But Alex nodded.
“It’s better this way,” he said. It was almost as if he were trying to convince himself of this. Sara put her hand to his face.
“You did the right thing.” She leaned in close and pressed her lips to his. He seemed shocked, and then relaxed. She pulled away. “Don’t be too hard on yourself. You had no choice. I would have done the same thing in your position.”
“You would?”
“Definitely.”
Alex was silent for a moment, struggling with his emotions. He wanted to hide the fact that he was injured with his parents’ deaths, so instead of talking about them he blurted out, “I’ll miss you, Sara. You’ll – we’ll keep in contact, won’t we?”
Sara nodded. “Of course we will.” She pulled him in for a hug, wrapping her arms around his slightly shaky shoulders. She kissed his temple. “You did the right thing. They’re together where nothing can harm them. They will always be with you, even in death.”
He didn’t reply, fearing that he would cry again if he opened his mouth to speak. He just held her tightly until Jonathan called him to come on the plane. Before they pulled away, Alex pressed one last kiss on Sara’s lips, knowing that this would be the last time he ever had the chance to. They could never be together. She was the daughter of a Med-jai Chieftain, next-in-line as the Leader and her place was in Egypt. He was not Arabic and did not practice Islam, therefore would never be accepted by the Med-jai, and his place was in England. He turned away and went to the plane, not looking back. They would both find new people, and teenage romances never lasted.
Meritamen and Jasunr, in the end, went their separate ways.
…But he didn’t yet know what happened to them in the end. That much was still denied to him.
Like a massive blank in his life.
Sara bit her lip and held back tears. “I’ll never forget you, Alexander O’Connell,” she had whispered into the air before turning around and heading back to her father, where they would set off to where they truly belonged.
Cassandra limped over to her camel and got on. She, Ardeth and Sara moved their camels right back as Samantha started the propeller of Bella Donna, taking off and flying towards the horizon, heading to Cairo where she would fill up the fuel tanks. Cassandra held Ardeth’s hand tightly as they, too, set off, urging their camels forwards to the Med-jai camp, where they could finally be together.
Together…as Amarantha and Yahmose should have been.
…As Amarantha wanted it to be.
Perhaps it just proved that, after all they had been though together, after all they had loved each other so much, that even forever could never be long enough for them…
…for their…
…love…?
FINI
– Estora –