Curse of the Pharaoh: A Brock Stone Adventure

22 Leaving

They met up with Alex, but instead of leading them back into the city, Hawk guided them to the outskirts of town.

“Where are we going?” Stone asked.

“There’s only one person that can tell us how to get to Sobekopolis.”

They drew plenty of stares from the locals. They made an odd-looking trio — three Americans, one of them a native, and another with a hook for a hand.

“How did you manage to catch me?” Hawk asked.

“I had a lot of specialized training,” Stone said. “If you don’t mind my asking, what’s a Cherokee doing in Egypt?”

“You can tell the nations apart? I’m impressed.” Hawk said. “As for what I’m doing here, I served as a scout in the Great War. There wasn’t anything waiting for me back home except poverty, so I drifted through Europe and down to Africa. Once I got to Cairo, I discovered I got better treatment here than I did back in the States, so I stayed.”

Stone was surprised to learn Hawk was old enough to have served. The big native appeared to be about the same age as Stone and Alex. When he said so, Hawk laughed.

“I lied about my age. I’m a big fellow and all my people look alike to your kind. Besides, the army didn’t really care how old I was — they just wanted bodies.”

Stone nodded. The official enlistment age had been nineteen, but thousands of boys barely in their teens had died serving in the war.

“Why do they call you Hawk?” Alex asked. “Is it your nose?”

“What’s wrong with my nose?”

“Nothing, I just thought…” Alex stammered, his face turned red.

“I’m joking. They call me Hawk because of this.” He patted the tomahawk hanging from his belt. “And any name is better than Absalom Bonebrake.”

Stone chuckled. Absalom was the third son of King David. He rebelled against his father and was killed when his hair snagged in a tree branch. He was pulled from his horse and hung there until King David’s men caught up to him.

They soon arrived at a private residence. Hawk spoke quietly with the man who answered the door, then beckoned for them to follow him inside.

In a room in the back of the house sat an old man with frizzy, snow white hair. His expression was blank and he muttered softly under his breath. When they got closer, Stone was surprised to realize the man was much younger than he had initially believed. Probably no more than forty.

“Who is he?” Alex asked.

“This is Darius. He’s the only person I know who claims to have found Sobekopolis. This is what it did to him.”

“Why did you wait until now to tell us?”

“I wanted you to see for yourself what you face.”

“Understood.”

Hawk turned to Darius. “These men are looking for Sobekopolis. Can you tell us how to get there.”

Darius trembled. His eyes went wide, and he began to rock back and forth and whisper to himself. Stone could just make out the words.

“Three days… over the camel’s back… canyon.”

“What does that mean?” Alex asked.

There’s a rock formation about three days west of here called Camel’s Back. We cross over it and look for a canyon.”

“The Canyon of the Three-Headed Serpent,” Alex said.

Darius whimpered at the name.

“Is that where you went, Darius?” Hawk asked.

Darius nodded. Stone had an idea. He took out the ushabti and held it up.

“Have you seen something like this before?”

Darius gasped. He sprang to his feet, let out a scream, and ran from the room.

“Nice going,” Hawk said. “Whatever he saw out there turned him into a madman. You still want to go?

“I don’t have a choice,” Stone said.

Hawk smiled. “In that case, you’ve got yourself a guide.”