Return of the Mummy Read Online Free PDF

want anything bad to happen to that little hand. It was my good luck charm.
    I reached into my jeans pocket and pulled it out. Holding it under the light from my hard hat, I examined it carefully.
    I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw that it was okay. It still felt cold. But it hadn’t been crushed.
    “What’s that?” Nila asked, leaning closer to see it better. She brushed her long hair away from her face. “Is that the Summoner?”
    “How did you know that?” I demanded, holding the hand up so she could see it better.
    Nila stared at it intently. “I know a lot about ancient Egypt,” she replied. “I’ve studied it my whole life.”
    “It might be an ancient relic,” Uncle Ben broke in.
    “Or it might just be a tacky souvenir,” Sari added.
    “It has real powers,” I insisted, brushing it off carefully. “I landed on it down there”—I pointed to the spider chamber — “and it didn’t get crushed.”
    “I guess it
is
a good luck charm,” Nila said, turning back to Uncle Ben.
    “Then why didn’t it keep Gabe from falling through that wall?” Sari cracked.
    Before I could answer, I saw the mummy hand move. The tiny fingers slowly curled. Out and then in.
    I cried out and nearly dropped it.
    “Gabe — now what?” Uncle Ben demanded sharply.
    “Uh … nothing,” I replied.
    They wouldn’t believe me anyway.
    “I think we’ve done enough exploring for now,” Uncle Ben said.
    As we made our way to the entrance, I held the mummy hand in front of me.
    I wasn’t seeing things. I knew that for sure. The fingers really had moved.
    But why?
    Was the hand trying to signal me? Was it trying to warn me about something?

11
    Two days later, Uncle Ben’s workers reached the doorway to the burial chamber.
    Sari and I had spent the two days hanging around in the tent or exploring the area outside the pyramid. Since it was mostly sand, there wasn’t much to explore.
    We spent one long afternoon playing game after game of Scrabble. Playing Scrabble with Sari wasn’t much fun at all. She was a very defensive player and spent hours figuring out ways to clog the board and block me from getting any good words.
    Whenever I put down a really good word, Sari claimed it wasn’t a real word and couldn’t be allowed. And since we didn’t have a dictionary in the tent, she won most of the arguments.
    Uncle Ben, meanwhile, seemed really stressed out. I thought maybe he was nervous about finally opening the tomb.
    He barely spoke to Sari and me. Instead, he spent a lot of time meeting with people I didn’t recognize. He seemed very serious and businesslike. None of his usual backslapping and joking.
    Uncle Ben also spent a lot of time talking with Nila. At first, she’d said she wanted to write about his discovery in the pyramid. But now she’d decided to write an article about him. She wrote down nearly every word he said in a little pad she carried with her.
    Then, at breakfast, he finally smiled for the first time in two days. “Today’s the day,” he announced.
    Sari and I couldn’t hide our excitement. “Are you taking us with you?” I asked.
    Uncle Ben nodded. “I want you to be there,” he replied. “Perhaps we will make history today. Perhaps it will be a day you will want to remember for the rest of your lives.” He shrugged and added thoughtfully: “Perhaps.”
    A few minutes later, the three of us followed several workers across the sand toward the pyramid. It was a gray day. Heavy clouds hovered low in the sky, threatening rain. The pyramid rose up darkly to meet the clouds.
    As we approached the small opening in the back wall, Nila came running up, her camera bobbing in front of her. She wore a long-sleeved blue denimwork shirt over loose-fitting faded jeans. Uncle Ben greeted her warmly. “But still no photographs,” he told her firmly. “Promise?”
    Nila smiled back at him. Her green eyes lit up excitedly. She raised a hand to her heart. “Promise.”
    We all took yellow hard