I wiped the sweat from my brow and pushed a lock of sandy brown hair back into place beneath my fedora. With as much dignity and reverence as I could, I used my booted feet to roll Jean’s body onto its back.
Jean’s once sun burnished skin was a sickly pale pallor, tinged green with poison and clammy with cold death. I gazed upon his lifeless eyes and once smiling face, now contorted with fear and shock, frozen in time. The culprits would pay, but first I had to ascertain their identities. The scorpions were the first clue, the rest would come. I leant my trust to divine intervention to show me the way.
Sure enough it did, in more ways than one.
I inspected the scene before me, trying to piece the shattered fragments of the mystery together into one coherent piece. In death, it seemed Jean had one last message for me. His arm lay extended as if pointing toward something lying beneath the duvet. I followed its bearing and ducked low, peering into the shaded confines beneath the furniture. Inches from Jeans outstretched fingers was a piece of paper or fabric, waiting for a discoverer to snatch it up. I reached out for it, wary of any lingering multi-legged pests, but as my hand came to grasp the withered sheet of papyrus I heard the iron moan of the stairs outside.
Someone was coming.
The paper fell back to its crypt in a chill whisper of wind and my trusty Colt flew to my hand with the surety of long practice. I ducked back behind one of the half walls that separated the room and peeked out from my redoubt, waiting for the ball to drop.
Boy oh boy, did it ever drop hard. MY breath caught in my throat at the sight of the beautiful dame that appeared as if by magic in the doorway. Never in my long experience had I seen a woman of such alluring proportions, both dark and illuminating at the same time. She moved with an eloquent grace that belied her skintight dress and French high heeled shoes.
She was like a panther stalking its prey, slow and silent. Steady and dangerous. This dame meant business and she was packing heat of her own. A small automatic was clasped in her lithe fingers.
I shook my head to clear the fog, an abnormal occurrence for a casanova such as I. From the moment I saw her, I knew that I was stuck under her spell, but she was in my pal’s apartment right after his murder. That meant that whatever business she had was my business as well.
I managed to say as much from behind the relative safety of my brick half wall. “Come back to the scene of the crime, did you?”
To her definite credit, she did not flinch or jump at my challenge. Her eyes cut through the wall, drawing me out. I managed to keep my gun up, not falling completely to the siren’s call.
“You must be Quinn,” She sang in a provocative lilt. “I expected you sooner.”
“If we’d met before, I surely would have remembered a woman like you.”
“You’ll forget this one permanently if you don’t stop giving me those eyes.” She paused for a moment, grimacing ever so slightly when she spied the body on the floor.
I held my hands up in mock surrender, not yet relinquishing my grip on my gun. “Point taken. How do you know my name, miss?”
“Eva. Eva LaRue. The alignment of the stars, Mister Chapman. I was in business with your former partner, Monsieur Pierre. Unfortunately he’s dead and I know you are not the killer.”
“You’re some sort of clairvoyant abercrombie, huh?” I was torn between tense watchfulness and being at my ease with the beautiful Miss LaRue. Jean had not mentioned anyone else in his letter to me. I started to sense an even deeper mystery brewing.
“Maybe I am, or maybe I am just observant.” Eva’s sensuous lips parted ever so slightly in a mischievous grin. A grin that could cow a charging grizzly into submission. Her glittering blue eyes lingered on my emerald orbs, but she lowered her automatic. I followed suit, holstering my gun in a mutual armistice. I had an ardent desire to find out more about this modern day Aphrodite.
“You don’t sound French, so how do I know you are who you say you are?”
“My mother was French, but I was born and raised in New York. I am an American, same as you.” Eva slipped in closer as she spoke, her eyes darting to the splattered bodies of the scorpions before alighting on Jean Pierre’s body. The stale air of the apartment gave way to the floral musk of Eva’s perfume, scents of jade and lavender, the allure of the orient. “We don’t have time to banter, so shut up and listen.”
I wanted to retort, to play the game of cat and mouse, but I held my tongue. A sense of urgency was coming over me, like a growing thunderstorm in the distance billowing up and blowing. My intuition was honed to a knifes fine edge from the war and my post war exploits, so I listened intently on
Eva took my silence as an askance for her to continue. “Jean was helping me seek the legendary Was scepter. The Staff of Anubis.”
My jaw dropped and I blinked stupidly. Jean Pierre and I were the sole survivors of a doomed expedition into the Western Desert of Egypt. We were searching for the Lost Oasis of Ankhara, the resting place of the Was scepter.
“Close your mouth before something flies in there,” Eva knelt over the body, her blonde hair rolling down her naked shoulders in waves of flaxen silk. “I know your story, Jean told me everything. To get so close, only to fail.”
“We didn’t fail, lady. We were doomed from the start. There were nearly three hundred thousand square miles of sand and rock to search out there and to make things worse, the Bedouin harassed our column most of the way. When we got within an afternoon's march of salvation, some other tribesmen made a concentrated assault on our camp. We left nothing but sun-bleached bones behind.” My chest heaved with the memories of screams and blood, with the voices that had whispered in my head from beyond the veil.
Eva’s ivory cheeks reddened, and she glanced down to her feet. “I’m sorry for them. If the legends are true, then you weren't attacked by simple Bedouin tribesmen.”
“Not at all, the Bedouin are nomadic people. These people were different, like desert guardians of some sort. Maybe the protectors of the oasis and its secrets.”
“That certainly lends more credence to your story.” Eva bent forward over the body, reaching for the paper I knew to be beneath the couch. Her back was on full display by the v-shaped cut of her dress, the apex of which came tantalizingly close to exposing her rear.
I made a sorry attempt at being a gentleman and looked away with considerable willpower, but when she came back to her feet, she faced me, her supple chest heaving with excitement in the tight confines of her corset. In her exquisite fingers was a brittle piece of the most ancient of paper, a papyrus scroll, yet she took notice of my wavering gaze. “We have more pressing matters, wouldn’t you say?”
“What’s this we stuff? The only thing the search for Ankhara ever yielded is death.” I crossed my arms, defying her magic. A man could only be pressed so far by beauty, even if she was out dueling me on wit.
Eva held the papyrus to the flickering lights and rolled her eyes. “Yes, yes, the curse of Anubis. Living dead, horrible fates, etcetera etcetera.”
I felt her disdain, but I had seen enough of the unexplained to never take a curse lightly. My curiosity still managed to get the better of me. My thirst for adventure, to discover what lay over the next horizon, to fight the next battle was unquenchable for I had never known peace.
“What does it say?”
“It’s the key to Ankhara and the temple of Anubis.” Eva said matter of factly, as if she were holding the latest copy of life magazine. “This is what I came for.”
Eva turned, bringing her body next to mine. I could feel her warmth radiating and could get lost in the wonderful miasma of her scent. I was foolishly enamored, like a schoolboy and his first crush.
She held the papyrus a little high so that I might see it. I was no scholar in Egyptology, but I had learned enough in my time there to get some semblance of meaning from the hieroglyphics depicted on the scroll.
In my excitement I pulled the aged scroll from her hand. Touching the ancient papyrus elucidated a stunning chill, a writhing, grasping cold engulfed me as if I’d been thrown into a snowbank. I almost cried out, but as quickly as the icy miasma came, it was gone.
For the present I chalked it up to my nerves and gave the object a deeper inspection.
“A path through the desert, directly to the Oasis.” I mumbled, now losing myself in the translation. “And the man with a jackal's head, that's Anubis and his scepter.”
Eva laughed. “Jean said you couldn't resist adventure and that you would not be able to resist a chance at redemption for your failed attempt. You came at his summons to redeem yourself.”
I grinned back, full of myself now. “He also knew I couldn’t resist a pretty lady batting her eyelashes at me. It seems you know a lot more about me than I do you, Miss LaRue.”
“You will just have to learn, but not now. And call me Eva.” With that, Eva snatched the map out of the air and whipped around, heading for the broken doors. Her sultry aroma lingered in the air, beckoning me to follow. I had no choice but to do so.
In moments, I found myself shuffling down the stairs outside and hopping along the moisture slick cobbles of the Quarter. By then, the gray wet evening had given way to the enveloping blackness of night, pierced only by the shimmering fires of the gas lamps.
I found myself so intent on our mission that I almost ran smack into Eva’s flaxen mane where she had stopped stock still on the street. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, instinctually sensing danger before seeing it. Eva must have sensed it as well, but I proved to be the quicker reacting.
I grabbed her slender arm in my vice-like grip, pulling her into the foreboding gloom of the nearest alley. Eva did not resist, accepting my lead as we made to escape the scrutiny of the main street. We had not gone more than ten feet when we were confronted by the hulking figure of a man basking in the shadows.
My eyes adjusted to the darkness as the ape-like countenance of our adversary revealed itself in the musty thoroughfare. HIs glowering face was dark and lean, deep set predatory eyes stared out from above a thin black mustache which in turn framed a wicked grin of evil delight.
I was plenty rugged, but this bad egg seemed to be my equal or greater in strength. Still, I did not hesitate to step in front of Eva and draw my Colt.
The stranger shook his raptor head and pushed forward with the casual certitude of a tiger approaching its wounded prey. No weapon did he wield as he came on, facing the barrel of my iron. His confidence was almost enough to shake me from my solid foundations, but Eva’s stirring presence leant me strength.
“Miss LaRue.We meet again.” The walking mountain of flesh hissed in a rough guttural German accent. “Now give me the map.”
“Mueller,” Eva spat in at the man’s feet, eyes narrowed with loathing.
“I don't think so, pal,” I growled, lips snarl and muscles tensed up like a compressed spring. I waved my forty-five in front of him, stopping his steady advance.
...its barrel trained squarely on his chest. "You’d better stop where you are, or I’ll make you regret stepping out of the Fatherland.”
Mueller halted, his grin widening into something grotesque. His deep-set eyes gleamed under the faint streetlamp light, like those of a predator who knew it had cornered its prey. “You think your little toy will stop me? You don’t even know what you’re dealing with, Chapman.”
The way he said my name sent a chill up my spine, though I didn’t let it show. “I deal with trouble every day, buddy. You’re just another face in the gallery.”
Eva stepped forward, her voice sharp and cutting through the tense air. “You shouldn’t have followed me, Mueller. This map isn’t yours. It never was.”
He barked a laugh, low and guttural, echoing off the damp alley walls. “It belongs to whoever can take it. And take it, I will.” His shoulders tensed, and I could see him preparing to lunge.
I didn’t wait for him to make the first move. My finger tightened on the trigger, and the sharp crack of the Colt echoed through the alley. The bullet hit its mark—or so I thought. Mueller staggered back, a dark stain spreading across his coat. But instead of falling, he stood there, a low growl rumbling from deep within his chest.
“That… was a mistake,” he snarled, his voice thick with something inhuman.
Before I could react, he surged forward with unnatural speed, his massive hand swatting the Colt out of my grip like it was a child’s toy. The weapon clattered to the cobblestones as his other hand shot out, grabbing me by the throat and lifting me clean off my feet.
Eva screamed, her voice piercing through the haze of pain and shock. My hands scrabbled at Mueller’s iron grip, but it was like trying to bend steel. His strength was beyond anything I’d encountered, even in the harshest jungles and deserts.
“You’re out of your depth, Chapman,” he hissed, his rancid breath hot against my face. “This is bigger than you. Bigger than her. Walk away while you still can.”
“Not… my style,” I choked out, clawing at his arm.
Mueller sneered and tightened his grip, but then Eva acted. She pulled a small blade from somewhere—her garter, maybe—and slashed it across Mueller’s forearm. He roared in pain, dropping me to the ground with a thud.
I gasped for air and scrambled to my feet, scooping up my Colt as Eva positioned herself between me and the towering brute. “This isn’t over, Mueller,” she spat, her voice fierce and defiant.
“No,” Mueller growled, clutching his bleeding arm. “It’s just begun.” He took a step back, his dark eyes locking on mine. “You’ve chosen the wrong side, Chapman. You’ll regret it.”
With that, he melted into the shadows, his heavy footsteps fading into the distance.
I turned to Eva, my breath still ragged. “Who is that guy?”
“Trouble,” she said simply, her voice trembling slightly despite her bold front.
“Yeah, I got that part,” I muttered, rubbing my sore neck. “You want to tell me what’s really going on here, or do I have to keep finding out the hard way?”
Eva hesitated, her sapphire eyes meeting mine with an intensity that made my chest tighten. “I’ll explain everything,” she said softly, “but not here. We need to move. There are more of them, and they won’t stop until they have the map.”
I sighed, holstering my Colt and nodding. “Lead the way, sweetheart. But you’d better make it good—because if I’m risking my neck for this, I want the whole story.”
Eva didn’t reply, just turned and led me deeper into the darkened streets. As I followed her, a sense of foreboding settled over me. Whatever I’d gotten myself into, it was bigger than I could have imagined. And it was only just beginning.
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