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Title
: The Mummy (Crowe’s Point Movie Challenge)Author: SharonRating: PGCharacter: MultipleDisclaimer: The following story has been written with no intention of claiming ownershipor solicitation, nor does the author claim the movie character(s) as his/her own. Themovie character(s) have been borrowed solely out of a love of the particular movie and isnot intended for any other purpose but amusement and entertainment.~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~“Chloe, c’mon…”“Just a bit more, Cort…”She heard him grunt in exasperation and she sighed quietly. She wasn’t deliberatelytrying to hold him up. He just needed…patience, and what she was doing, if she wasgoing to do it well, needed patience. Actually, Cort was a very patient man…much morethan she figured she deserved; but for today, her deliberate attention was at cross- purposes with what he had in mind.Plus, she had been having fun roaming around with him and she was loath to call the dayat an end when there was still a sunbeam or two in the sky. Cort, on the other hand, wasantsy to get back on the path to the Hotel.
 
“Everyone will be upset if we’re late,” she heard him say in her ear. Her hand was flatagainst the stone-wall and she was leaning against it; he was behind her, one arm slidingaround her middle. “And besides, I have plans for you,” he added, more softly, whichdid the trick in making her stop and turn her head to look at him. He used the arm he hadaround her waist to flip her so that her back was flat against the wall. Then Cort closedthe distance, both hands on the wall on either side of her.“I just want to go around it once,” she said, obstinate in spite of the warmth growing between them.“We can come back tomorrow,” he argued.“I want to get a good idea of it, so I can go to the library and do research. Please, Cort? I just want to go around and see what this is.”“Well, we can go and tell Tina, and I bet she knows something about it,” Cort said, pulling her tighter to him. He seemed to think employing close proximity would makeher forget her line of reasoning.“She would have mentioned it, don’t you think?” she managed to point out after a longkiss. “I mean, you’re one of the ones that’s been at the Point the longest…wouldn’t youhave known about an abandoned stone building out here, after all the exploring that youdo? After all that you have done? Wouldn’t have someone?”Cort floundered for an answer. “Someone, yeah…maybe. But I ain’t interested in thatright now. I think we need to get back on the road. It’ll be dark soon, I didn’t bring aflashlight and we’re both exhausted. You had a run-in with thorns and my feet arehurtin,’ sweetheart. I’d like to at least get back and wash up so we can join the others atdinner. Jack’s got something planned.”“Is that all?”“You’re expecting more?” He asked of her, a wicked grin tweaking the corners of hismouth.“We have enough time for me to go around and see if there isn’t some inscription or something. Oh, Cort, you can humor a frustrated out-of-work archaeologist, can’t you?”He thought for a moment, the tip of his tongue showing slightly, and then nodded; but asshe moved to resume her examination, he grabbed her and pressed another firm kiss uponher lips. “There’s more if you hurry,” he promised.The wall she had been so keen to investigate was a crumbling line of boulders and plaster, and led in either direction for some yards. When they reached the far left corner of it they found that it revealed the end of a long oblong building. They stood and staredfor several long seconds, holding hands, because they had not expected to see the finely
 
fitted glass panels of a large Victorian conservatory. They could see that within therewere hints of statuary poking up through the rampant vegetation wending its way throughcracks and crevices. Apart from peeling paint and a few broken panes, the conservatorylooked like a delicate cage caught in the brambles.It was Cort who pulled her along now to the door that hung slightly ajar. Completelyowned by the mystery now, Chloe pulled and the door swung outward with a rusty,squeaky groan. The fragrance of green leaves and slightly rotting cellulose hit their nosesas the contained heat streamed over them. Cort found a broken piece of marble bigenough to prop the door open and he followed Chloe in, looking around with extremelywary eyes.“What do you think this is?” Chloe whispered. Old iron benches, statuary, a water fountain that had dried eons ago, a table with items long since covered with mold; spider webs and leaves and the dregs of time scattered throughout. None were so eye-catchingas the fairly large and detailed statue of the huntress, Diana, in the center of the room,high upon a column where she stared into a far distance. Grecian robes flowed from her in a frozen marble wind and her bow was nearly as tall as she. An arrow fitted into the bow in one hand pointed to the tall point of the gabled roof; at her feet lay three apples.A large hole in the glass ceiling was directly overhead, as if someone had tried to crawlinto the greenhouse from above.“I dunno,” Cort replied, his awed voice a hushed whisper, as if he were back in hischapel. “But I’m thinking you were right: you need to check this out at the library.”Chloe approached the Diana statue, taken in admiration by the marble from which shehad been carved. It was not like the other statues in the room: they looked to be madefrom concrete or a cruder grain of stone. This statue’s matrix seemed to have a finecrystalline grain. Tiny white occlusions caught the remaining light, lending a faint faeryglitter to Diana’s form. Even the bow and arrow were carved of stone, the detailing soexcellent that Chloe found herself reaching up, just to touch.She was quite sure she was as gentle as she could be, using a touch that any archaeologisthandling the finest ashen remains of an artifact from the oldest site in the world wouldexercise, but the pressure of her fingertips caused the statue to have an unexpectedreaction. Chloe’s fingers gingerly clamped down on the fine tip of the arrow pointingnear her face, to find that the arrow could move, sliding along the fine bowline just asCort repeated his sentiment that better work would be done in the library.“Chloe!” he gasped and she whirled to see his figure flicker, as if he were an image on anold television, his voice fading as if falling in a long tunnel.“Cort!” She screeched in stricken reply, but in the few steps it took to reach him, he hadmelted completely away.
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