Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

MEMPHIS

Noah groaned in pain and was grateful someone turned off the lights in the bunkroom… only to realize he wasn't lying in his bunk. He started, and another noise tore from his throat as pain radiated up his leg and exploded in his head.

"Shhh…" Madeline whispered gently, touching his brow as everything came crashing back to him. He cracked open an eye and saw the outline of her shadowed face looking at him with worry.

"Wh-What happened?"

"Please don't talk," she wept softly, almost like there were no more tears left in her to cry. Something was very wrong, and you didn't have to know a person to realize that.

"Where are they?" he asked carefully, keeping his voice down and taking inventory of their surroundings. They were both in a dark room, and he could see the moonlit sky in the distance. He wasn't sure if he was ready to sit up yet because his head was throbbing painfully, and he didn't know what happened to his leg. "Talk to me."

"I'm so sorry, Noah…" she began, sobbing pathetically. "You were so nice trying to help me, and I hate that we're going to end up dead because of it."

"I need details, right now, Madeline," he ordered, his mind refusing to accept her words as gospel. He was alive, which meant you kept going. You never gave up while there was a chance, and despite feeling like a thousand-pound elephant was sitting on his noggin, he could think.

Barely.

"I gave them everything after they shot you in the leg in front of me," she wept. "I'm so sorry, and this is all my fault. I'm so stupid and didn't realize that they were robbing the tomb, selling off pieces, and smuggling them out of the country. He even asked me to help him, and I said no…"

"Madeline, please, quit crying so I can think," he begged, clutching his forehead. "Where are they now – and where are we?"

"They dragged you down a hallway that the workers weren't allowed to go in…" and she whimpered in the darkness, choking on her words.

"And what ?"

"Noah, they sealed the entry with bricks," she wept. "They've entombed us alive and made horrible jokes about how they'd find our bodies someday."

"Okay, think…" he muttered to himself, feeling his pockets and sighed. "Let me guess – they took our phones?"

"They took everything. My keys, my wallet, my purse, your things. Travis joked about how it would be our dental records that…"

"Enough, Madeline," Noah said tersely and heard her let out a broken-hearted cry of despair. Wincing at the pain, he sat up and gingerly pulled her to his side, trying to comfort her. "Shhh. We're both smart people, and we can figure this mess out, right?"

"I feel pretty stupid right now," she blubbered noisily – and he couldn't help but smile in the darkness at the candid words. "I can't believe I went out with that creep."

"Yeah, well, I can't either – but you upped your game marrying me," he teased and felt her tense. "What?"

"Your friend is a lawyer… and has been here before with Travis. We're technically married according to Egyptian law. It's called ‘ orfi' here and is basically like a common-law marriage back home. Our marriage is legal within this country."

"What? He looks like a hobo, and that will never ‘fly' back home. Don't worry about it – and he's sure not my friend."

They both settled quietly, sitting back against the walls of the tomb. He wasn't sure where the others were, how long ago they'd left, nor how injured he was – but all of that wasn't good. If they somehow managed to get out of here, there could be someone standing guard at the edge of the entrance waiting for them.

If they waited, then they would need to contend with the heat, dehydration, hunger, not to mention the wound on his leg wasn't going to get any better magically, if the bullet was still buried in the muscle. He sure didn't want to poke around his thigh to see if there was an exit wound either. His whole leg felt like it was on fire from the injury.

Noah looked up at the moon, thinking. He was in no shape to climb that shaft nor somehow manage to hike down the side of the massive stone structure – and then they still had all the same problems.

"So you said they sealed the entrance? "

"Yes."

"With what?"

"Bricks and mortar, I would assume."

"Let's not assume; it's kind of important."

"Yes, bricks and mortar… and don't get snippy. I don't handle bossy men well, especially after all of this."

"Well, quit dating around on me… wife," Noah chuckled and heard her snort of disbelief, followed by a nervous quiet laugh. "You've gotta make jokes to keep from freaking out, right?"

"Are you scared?"

"Yup – and guess what?"

"What?"

"I work well under pressure," he fibbed, trying to comfort her. "Relax and let me think of a few things, and then we'll talk about it. In fact, I'm such a good husband, I'll give you all the nitty-gritty and let my pretty wife poke holes in all my plans. How's that sound?"

And miracle-of-all-miracles, he felt Madeline rest her head on his shoulder as she let out a shuddering breath.

"I'm good at poking holes in things."

"Good," he whispered softly, turning to put his cheek against her hair. "I need that really badly right now, so feel free to poke holes in everything I start spouting off when I think of something… but we're getting out of here – and I need you to believe me."

"I do."

He reached for her hand in the darkness and laced his fingers with hers, silent, and needing something to keep his own mind from panicking in this moment. That was one thing about being on ship; he was always surrounded by someone ready to help out, and he felt very much alone right now .

It was scary to think that if you let someone down, they would die – and while that was the same case on board, he never really felt like he faced it. The carrier was huge, sturdy, built with metal but here he was trapped in a small room enclosed with brick and mortar.

Mortar.

That needed time to set up and cure, right? It couldn't be that easy and simple – or could it?

"Um, how long ago… ah, how long have I been unconscious?"

"Maybe two hours? Why?"

Noah cursed under his breath and desperately tried to scramble to his feet in the darkness, feeling an overwhelming amount of pain in his leg at the sudden movement. I can't pass out, he chanted in his head repeatedly. If I pass out, it will harden, and we're truly stuck. There's no climbing out of that vent with my leg in this condition – if I could even get a hold of a ledge.

"What are you doing?!"

"Shhh… mortar is concrete or gravel based, isn't it? I'm not in construction, but you mix it with water, right?" he rambled, feeling along the walls in the dim light. "Where's the brick at? Was it several normal construction-sized bricks, or did you mean big rocks when you mentioned bricks earlier?"

"Oh my gosh…" she breathed, and he chuckled softly, realizing that she now understood where his mind was going. "It's not set yet, is it?"

"I don't know. I hope not, but we need to be smart about this because I don't know what we are going to find on the other side of the wall – nor do I really feel like getting shot again."

"They were stones," Madeline began and grabbed a spot on his shirt blindly, tugging him with her in the darkness. "This way. I think we're in a ventilation shaft or something because while the space is tiny, it's more like a long hallway."

"How big were the stones?"

"The size of a turkey? Maybe? Perhaps smaller? I know there were a few larger ones because the one they sealed the opening, and I was screaming at them through was pretty big. That one was definitely a large turkey-ish-sized rock."

"Okay," he whispered, grunting at the pain in his leg as he knelt down, and his hand came in contact with moisture. "Oh, thank you, Jesus… it's damp."

"Oh mercy, Noah…"

"We're gonna get out of here," he breathed, turning to clutch her hands beside him blindly. "But we might have to make a run for it if they are in the tomb. We'll have to be quiet, but the rocks are going to make noise."

"I can be quiet."

"It's not you I'm worried about – it's me yelping or the rocks hitting my leg," he admitted. "I feel like I've got a red-hot poker jabbing me, so I'm going to be slow. If they are out there, then I want you to start running."

"Okay. I can…"

"I want you to leave me if they are out there," he clarified firmly. "Go to the carrier, tell them what happened, and…"

"I'm not leaving you after bailing my butt out not once – but twice. Forget it," Madeline said stubbornly, yanking her hands from his. "You're stuck with me for now, husband …"

"We both know that isn't going to hold up back home. It was a mutual farce we both came up with on the spot."

"Well, you are still stuck with me. Do you think I want to run off and leave you here? If they are out there, then…"

"If they are out there, they are going to be shooting at us, Madeline."

"Us. You just said it yourself – us . You think I'm going to let you be some human shield because you are a big, bad, military, super trooper?"

"First off, I'm not a super trooper… and ouch? – You don't think highly of me being in the Navy, apparently. Secondly, those grave robbers are…"

"Get your terms right – if you are going to correct me , then I'm going to correct you . A grave robber is just a premature archeologist that hasn't peaked, and we are dealing with a bunch of greedy tomb robbers . Tomb- tomb- tomb."

"Prematurely… what?" he laughed, marveling at the wit in his new-found accomplice and pseudo-bride. Whatever happened next, he felt strangely amused despite their conditions. "Never mind. So, do we have a deal?"

"We run together – quietly – and get someplace safe."

"Agreed - and if I fall…"

"You won't. I'll drag you along, and the road rash will be epic."

"Madeline…"

"Listen, Noah," she hissed in exasperation. "You don't speak Arabic and need me – and frankly, I need you too to get out of this mess. You're stuck with me for a little while longer, so quit throwing out all these conditions, and let's work together as partners."

"Fake spouses," he corrected softly, wishing he could see her face and remembering her look from this morning prior to bumping into her during one of the toughest moments of their lives.

"Sure. Fake spouses," she amended and then touched his hand. "Noah? "

"Yeah?"

"Before we open this, because we don't know what's out there waiting, can I ask a huge favor?"

"Only if I can…"

"Sure," she chuckled nervously, giving his hand a small squeeze. "If we are playing this whole ‘spouses' role for a few more moments, do you think that maybe I can sneak a kiss from my temporary husband? A real one, like from someone who actually means it? I mean, you might have a girlfriend back home or someone in your life, but you could pretend for a minute and…"

"Madeline, that was my favor too," Noah interrupted quietly – and tugged on her hand, pulling her toward him, into his arms. He felt her hand release his, immediately moving to his shoulders as his arms slid around her waist. Pressing his lips against hers, he sighed at the feeling of having a soft, supple woman in his arms.

It wasn't a kiss of love, adoration, or anything of the sort. This kiss was raw, emotional, and full of painful fear that this might be it – or at least to him, it was.

If he was about to potentially get shot trying to make a break for it… if they managed to get out of here; if they made it over the dunes, somehow crossed the fenced gates blocking the entrance, and got to safety without either of them being killed…

He would be amazed.

Breaking the kiss, he pressed his forehead against hers there in the dark, willing his heart to quit slamming wildly in his chest at the simple touch between them. Yeah, he was wildly attracted to her, but all of that was significantly diminished by the threat they were facing.

"We need to escape before it sets up," he reminded her softly. "Thank you for sharing that kiss with me. "

"Hopefully, we can do this again… but in celebration next time," she whispered to him.

"I'd like that. Shall we?"

"What do you need me to do?"

"Stay there and get ready to bolt. I'm going to lie down on my bad leg and use my other one to try and kick out a few of the stones since it's still soft."

"Won't you need to get up quickly? Actually, let me rephrase that - can you get up quickly?"

"I'm motivated, so yeah – I'll be okay," he teased, not wanting to stay here a moment longer. Grunting at the sharp pain in his leg, pushing back any worries of infection, he put the wound against the floor with a bent knee so he had some sort of leverage to push with his other straight leg. Bracing his foot against the wall, he felt and heard something give.

"Here we go…"

And shoved.

A few stones tumbled forward loudly, allowing a faint light to cast a glow as they both froze, waiting. He expected to have bullets come flying into the opening or to see a shadow break the light, indicating someone was out there, waiting to pounce – but there was nothing.

Time seemed to tick by so slowly and his heart was thrumming loudly in his head. Combined with his headache, he was pretty sure what it felt like to be a drum right now.

Noah looked at Madeline.

She looked like she was ready to come unglued at any moment. He rolled around gingerly to look through the opening, watching for any movement, listening for any sounds. He wasn't sure time could drag by any slower, but he was waiting for any sort of guard to come check out the noises he'd just created.

Silently, he managed to pluck a few stones that had been freed from the cement mix, setting them down gingerly. You would have thought he was putting an eggshell on the ground the way he moved ever so slowly. When the opening looked wide enough for his shoulders, he started pulling his body from what would have been their tomb if those men had their way.

He waved Madeline forward, helping her as she crawled out, getting to her feet… and pausing. They both waited, listening. The first hurdle was done , he thought wildly, his body pumping with adrenaline and fear. Now, to make my way down that blasted incline without making a noise .

Madeline grabbed his hand and pulled him forward, leading the way.