Land of the Dead

The Year of the Scarab Trilogy, Book III

by Andrew Bates

Excerpt from Chapter Two [©2001 White Wolf Publishing; ISBN 1-58846-804-6]

Like most of Cairo, the neighborhoods of Darb al-Ahmar didn't conform to a rigid, easily recognizable grid. The quarter occupied the eastern portion of the city below the Muqattam hills, The Citadel a constant presence rising high above.

Nicholas Sforza-Ankhotep was somewhat familiar with the area, having played tourist to check out the many mosques that peppered the neighborhood. The old man he followed headed through the neighborhood with the confidence of intimate familiarity. Sensing they were getting close to their destination, Nicholas decided to take advantage of the winding twists and turns and the shadows deepening in the gloom to sneak closer to the old man. They went down a winding street past a few more houses, then around a corner to an alleyway slotted between a two-story mud-brick building and a sprawling wakalah, a kind of residential warehouse more recently converted to small shops and dwellings.

Nicholas eased back as the old man flashed a look around before entering. Shuffling along with the flow, Nicholas passed the alley and rounded the next corner. A glance had shown him the alley ended at an archway into what appeared to be an interior courtyard.

Nicholas circled the block, which was comprised of the wakalah and three other buildings, all two-story mud brick residential structures. The three apartment buildings formed a U with the open end facing east. The wakalah closed up the top of the U, except for the alley entrance, to form a square. The apartments were constructed of mud brick centuries ago, rather than thrown together with concrete as an increasing number of buildings were in modern times. Each had a single main door set to one side and three narrow windows overlooking the street on each floor. The roofs were flat, with clusters of television aerials on each, as well as two small satellite dishes poking from one corner. Overall, seemed pleasant enough, even upscale for the area. It looked like there was once a fourth matching building where the wakalah stood. The residential warehouse covered more ground but wasn't quite as tall as the old apartments. A jumble of dilapidated buildings leaned over the street across from the wakalah, a few of them three stories tall. The setting sun threw their shadows over most of the warehouse.

Nicholas slipped around and lounged in the angle where a storage shed joined the wakalah wall. Drawing upon his bracelet of Selket, he leaped onto the shed's roof. Sure-footed as the scorpion that fell under the goddess's auspice, Nicholas leaped again to the top of the wakalah and made his way across its tiled roof. As far as he could tell, no one was watching from the apartment building roofs. He wasn't concerned with being spotted from below. People seldom looked up, especially in areas where things weren't built up that much. The cramped streets helped further; anyone on the street who wanted a decent look at the rooftops would have to crane his neck sharply.

He moved fast, slipping lightly along the rooftop, and was soon at the edge peering into the central courtyard. The space was tiled, with small plots of earth in each corner in which were planted clusters of ferns. A single door opened from each building into the courtyard, but there was no doorway into the wakalah. The three apartment buildings also had wrought-iron balconies on the second floor. The old man had plenty of time to get inside and Nicholas saw no other movement outside. It was impossible to tell which structure the guy had entered. Nicholas decided to give it a few minutes. See if the old man had merely dropped by to report. Nicholas hunkered down to one side where the wakalah roof met the right-hand apartment building.

A little while later, he heard the crunch of shoes -- not from the courtyard, but from above. The measured pace of a bored guard. Nicholas pressed against the mud brick that rose eight feet to the apartment roof. He couldn't hide from anyone looking straight down, but otherwise a casual glance should miss him. The footsteps strolled by, growing quiet as the guard worked his way back around the roof. Nicholas took one last look down to the courtyard. He caught movement on the left side apartment roof and jerked back out of sight, cursing himself even as he did so. Sudden movements were the best way to get spotted. Sure enough, he heard a yell from the left-side roof. Not an alarm, at least. His Arabic was good enough to understand Lefty was calling out to the guard who'd just walked by above Nicholas.

Great, yeah, come check out if somebody's hiding down here. Nicholas scowled. If he ran now, they'd surely spot him. But what would they report? Somebody running across a rooftop. Fuck it; he was sick of running.

A stocky Egyptian torso poked over the roof lip right above him. Nicholas was ready. He straightened, one hand grabbing the guard by the front of his shirt and yanking him down to land clumsily on his face near the roof's edge. Any doubt Nicholas had about the place or this man was wiped away at the sight of a snake tattoo that peeked out of the man's sleeve when he slapped a hand against the wall.

Nicholas faced the retainer of a Follower of Set; mortals like this often showed their loyalty with the serpent tattoo. Allegiance to one of the mummies' greatest foes left the man bereft of any mercy Nicholas might otherwise have shown. He moved with the speed of a striking scorpion and grabbed the front of the man's shirt again, yanking forward then driving back to strike him hard in the throat. Even as the first blow landed, Nicholas struck with the heel of his other hand against the man's temple.

The guard choked on whatever he was about to say, the blow to the head knocking him senseless an instant later. Nicholas kept hold of the cheap fabric and swung the twitching body over the roof's edge, then released. A cloud of dirt puffed around the guard as he hit the street.

Nicholas' sharp ears caught the other guard's scrambling as soon as the stocky one disappeared over the side. He hopped up and grabbed the roof edge above him, rolling up and over and laying flat behind the lip. An instant later he heard Lefty drop to the warehouse roof and scramble over the tile, calling, "Malik? Malik?" Concern became panic when Lefty saw his buddy Malik sprawled in the street below. Nicholas listened as the guard rushed to the edge of the roof overlooking the courtyard and yelled for help.

Nicholas peered over the roof's edge. Bingo. The old man and another, younger fellow, emerged into the thin strip of light that banded the west end of the courtyard. They shielded their eyes, staring up into the light of the setting sun toward the guard.

"Malik has fallen!" Lefty called down in Arabic. "I think that someone--"

"Hey!" exclaimed the younger man in the courtyard, pointing up to where Nicholas was moving, fully upright and in plain view, along the rooftop edge.

Soon as he was seen, Nicholas headed for the simple trap door that provided entrance to the rooftop. He vanished from view right away, but from the subsequent commotion it sounded like they were all converging on this building. Lefty clattered over the tiles and grabbed for the roof, shoes scraping against the side as struggled for the leverage to pull himself up. The door to the building squealed open and Nicholas soon heard one set of feet heading fast up the stairs. Too fast for the old man, so where was he? Straining a bit, Nicholas heard a shuffling step he'd tracked before. Sounded like the old guy was headed for the street to check on Malik. So far, it was going the way he'd hoped.

It would be easy enough to pick off each of these guards, but he didn't give a shit about them. The vampire they surely guarded was what interested him. The sun was setting even now; Nicholas would have to move fast if he wanted to deal with the creature before it could rise. He leaped from the rooftop, the tiles shattering beneath his feet as he landed. The sound echoed through the shadows of the courtyard, triggering confused shouts from the rooftop. Nicholas smiled and dashed into the western apartment building.

The interior was part of a single large suite of rooms, rather than a series of separate apartments that he'd assumed. Stairs before him led up, and to his right the space opened on a large sitting room containing a pair of low couches strewn with pillows and a series of small tables. An antique writing table sat in one corner. Carpets scattered the floor and hangings adorned the walls, everything a lush Arabic decor. All very nice, but Nicholas was more interested in finding the vampire's resting place. Seemed most likely it was downstairs -- having your coffin aboveground was asking for trouble. His ears, sharp as a fox's, heard stone grating on stone coming through a beaded hanging was strung across the doorway on the opposite wall. He plunged through the hanging, into another well-appointed chamber. His gaze went to the center of a stone floor strewn with colorful rugs. One of the rugs was flipped aside by a marble square just lifting from the floor.

The creature pushing up from below saw Nicholas the instant he entered the room. Nicholas caught a flash of yellow reptile eyes, then the heavy stone slab was flying right at him.

The ancient portion of Nicholas' soul, his ka, acted as his very own guardian angel. There should have been no chance to avoid the hurtling stone, yet Nicholas somehow flung himself backward, arching his back as the marble flashed less than an inch from his face. The slab shattered against the wall as Nicholas continued his move into a backward roll. He came up in a crouch just as the vampire launched itself from its lair. The Followers of Set were dangerous predators, strong and fast and possessed of tremendous powers given them by their connection to their undead lord. Nicholas had hoped to catch this one before it emerged from its slumber; apparently it was an early riser.

The thing's skin became mottled and darkened to black scales as it came at him. It moved with hypnotic fluidity, one clawed hand flashing with deceptive speed. Nicholas flung himself back a second time, the dark fingernails barely missing his throat. Not good, being on the defensive. Especially with his back to the door where this thing's lackeys were bound to come rushing through at any second.

Nicholas spun away and grabbed at one of the amulets around his neck. Trigger the scarab of Mentu and the vampire would be a pile of ash within seconds. The Follower matched Nicholas' speed, knocking the amulet aside just as he grabbed it. His hand went numb for a second from the force of the impact and the black scarab snapped its chain and bounced off a wall. Nicholas had no time to worry about losing the amulet, busy as he was avoiding the vampire's hand swinging in for a killing blow.

It turned out to be a feint, the Follower's left hand suddenly darting out for his throat. But Nicholas' spirit was in tune to the flow of fate. An infinitesimal shift of his balance and the vampire grabbed a handful of Nicholas' djellaba instead of his throat. The creature pulled, its mouth opening impossibly wide and needle-thin fangs extending from its upper jaw.

Having his throat torn out by vampire teeth was no more appealing than being eviscerated by undead talons, so Nicholas spun around and shrugged out of the robe. He continued the momentum, grabbing the far sleeve and flinging the djellaba over the Follower's head. The vampire snarled and tore at the cloth, but not fast enough to avoid the punishing blows Nicholas delivered with his curled fists. Got to love the avenging strength of righteousness bestowed by the amulet of Sekhmet. The creature's head snapped back, one side of its face a pulp of reptilian skin, startling white bone and dark red blood.

Then, just as Nicholas grabbed for the second scarab of Mentu, the ghul vanished. Shit, the thing turned invisible! He triggered the amulet with a shouted command. Blinding light and scorching heat blasted from the flash scarab and incinerated one of the couches. Nicholas cursed; his second of hesitation was all the vampire needed to duck out of the way. The fire must have panicked it, though, for instead of feeling fangs at his throat Nicholas heard a short cry and saw the beaded curtain clatter open as a large nothingness plowed through it.

Nicholas snatched his lost amulet from the floor, then took off after his foe. Yells of pain and surprise came from the next room. Nicholas emerged to see the old man groaning where he lay by the door. Yeah, well, tough, Nicholas thought. That's what you got for getting in the way of a panicky vampire.

Heading for the door, Nicholas heard a cacophony of yelling from upstairs along with barks loud as shotgun blasts. Sounded like Sherlock and Watson had found more guards. He dashed into the courtyard and almost plowed into a guard armed with a large curved dagger. Nicholas didn't have time for this distraction; he needed to catch the vampire before it fled into the darkness. He grabbed the guard's wrist and twisted, using his momentum to drive the dagger into the man's chest as he pushed past.

Nicholas cast about with his heightened senses. He ignored the guard's gurgling gasps and the barking and screams from inside, ears straining to catch the telltale scuff of footfalls. Nothing. The Follower couldn't have gotten beyond earshot so fast, not from Nicholas' hearing, anyway. So it was likely the creature was still--

The rage was a palpable force, alerting Nicholas in time to spin. Pain flared along his shoulder, just missing his neck as he ducked. The wound went numb immediately, a strange lassitude threatening to overtake him. Nicholas leaped across the courtyard, turning to face the general area the Follower of Set was hiding. He fired off the flash scarab, the blast doing nothing more than scorch the wall. In the next second, he grabbed the last scarab of Mentu that hung at his neck and triggered it toward the opposite end of the arc from where he'd just fired.

That did the trick. The vampire's instinct to avoid the flame sent it away from the first blast and caught it in the second. The creature flickered to visibility shrieking in agony, its side aflame from catching the edge of the blast. Still, it had plenty of fight left. Even as it slapped at the flames, the vampire ran at Nicholas, its tongue flashing at him again in a deadly fork. The poison from the first strike was making Nicholas sluggish, but with an inspired twisting roll, Nicholas flung himself out of the way. He came up a crouch as the tongue darted at him again. Although focused on avoiding the attack, Nicholas noticed the old man had stumbled from inside -- with a fire extinguisher, of all things -- and ran toward them to spray liberally at the flames eating into the vampire.

Anger gave Nicholas renewed energy. His hand darted out as the tongue struck, grabbing it behind the fork. The undead screamed in rage and pain as it tried to draw its tongue back, but Nicholas held fast. The vampire might match his speed, but Nicholas had the edge on strength. Now would be the perfect time to fire off another scarab, but since he didn't have one, Nicholas improvised. Taking advantage of the momentary stalemate, he wiped his free hand across his brow, then inscribed a quick combination of hieroglyphs into the air. The sweat on his fingers hung sizzling in the air as he fashioned the warding. The vampire realized what he was doing and tried to close the remaining distance between them, but it was too late. Nicholas sketched the last symbol -- the sign of the god Mentu, the personification of the sun's destructive heat -- and a brilliant flash went off. It lasted only a second, but it was enough to engulf the end of the Follower's tongue in flame.

The fire flashed up the tongue's length like it was primer cord. Golden serpent's eyes grew wide in the vampire's face as the flames rushed at its face. Hissing and screeching, the creature flailed in confusion for a precious second, then bit down. Its burning tongue fell away, spewing a gout of blood. But the flames were too hungry to be denied. They surged across the gap to engulf the vampire's face.

A piercing shriek blasted Nicholas' eardrums as the Follower of Set flung itself around in an agonized frenzy. The old man tried to direct the fire extinguisher on his master, but the creature wouldn't oblige him by standing still. Then a dark shape sped from the apartment building and launched itself at the old man. He saw the mastiff in time to make a clumsy swing with the extinguisher. Sherlock ducked below the blow, then lunged forward to clamp his huge jaws on the old man's groin. Two vicious shakes and most of the old man tore away, describing a short arc that ended against the courtyard wall. There was a wet crunch and he crumpled to the cracked tiles, the extinguisher giving a hollow thunk as it landed beside him.

Nicholas moved to grab the fire extinguisher in case the burning vampire was aware enough to go after it. He was halfway to the container when the creature's head blew into a hundred chunks of flaming gore. The thing's body staggered, fire coursing over its torso, then collapsed. A minute later all that remained of the Follower of Set were blackened chunks of flesh.

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