Free Return of the Mummy by R. L. Stine Page A

mummy. “Destroy them, my brother!” she ordered. “Destroy them now! There can be no witnesses!”
    “Nooo!” Sari shrieked. She and I both dove to the doorway. But Nila moved quickly to block our path.
    I shoved my shoulder against her, trying to push her away like a football lineman. But Nila held her ground with surprising strength.
    “Nila — let us go!” Sari demanded, breathing hard.
    Nila smiled and shook her head. “No witnesses,” she murmured.
    “Nila — we just want to get Daddy out of here. You can do what you want!” Sari insisted desperately.
    Nila ignored her and raised her eyes to the mummy. “Destroy them both!” she called. “They cannot leave this tomb alive!”
    Sari and I spun around to see the mummy lumbering toward us. Its blackened skull glowed in the dim light. It trailed long strips of yellowed gauze across the dirt floor as it dragged itself closer.
    Closer.
    I turned back to the door. Nila blocked the way. My eyes darted frantically around the chamber.
    No way to escape.
    No escape.
    The mummy lurched toward Sari and me.
    And reached out its cold, cold hands to obey Nila’s cruel command.

24
    Sari and I darted toward the door. But Nila blocked our escape.
    Its vacant eyes gazing blindly at us, its jaw frozen in a hideous skeletal grin, the mummy hurtled toward us.
    Raised its arms stiffly.
    Stretched out its hands.
    Dove at us with a final, desperate lurch.
    And to my shock, reached past Sari and me — and wrapped its tarred hands around Nila’s throat.
    Her mouth opened in a choked cry of protest.
    The mummy tilted back its head as it gripped her. Its tarred lips moved, and a dry cough cut through the air. And then the whispered words, dry as death, escaped the mummy’s throat:
    “Let me … rest in peace!”
    Nila uttered another choked cry.
    The mummy tightened its fierce grip on her throat.
    I spun around and grabbed its arm. “Let her go!” I screamed.
    A dry wheeze erupted from the blackened skull. Its hands tightened around Nila, bending her back, bending her toward the floor.
    Nila’s eyes shut in defeat. Her hands flew up helplessly. The flashlight and the mummy hand fell to the floor.
    I grabbed my little mummy hand and shoved it into my jeans pocket. “Let go! Let go! Let go!” I shrieked. I leaped onto the mummy’s back and tried to pull its hands from Nila’s throat.
    It let out a defiant roar, a harsh whisper of anger.
    Then it heaved itself up straight and struggled to toss me off its shoulders.
    I gasped, startled by the mummy’s surprising strength.
    As I started to slide off the mummy’s bandaged back, I reached out my hand, grabbing desperately, grabbing air, trying not to fall.
    My hand grabbed on to Nila’s amber pendant.
    “Hey!” I cried out as the mummy gave a hard toss.
    I tumbled off.
    The pendant tore off its chain. It fell from my hand, crashed to the floor — and shattered.
    “Noooooooooo!” Nila’s horrified wail shook the walls.
    The mummy froze.
    Nila spun out of the mummy’s grasp. Backed away. Her eyes wide with terror. “My life! My
life!”
she shrieked.
    She bent and struggled to pick up shards of amber from the floor. But the pendant had shattered into a hundred tiny pieces.
    “My life!” Nila wailed, staring at the smooth pieces in her palm. She raised her eyes to Sari and me. “I lived inside the pendant!” she cried. “At night, I crept inside. It kept me alive for over three thousand years! And now … now … ohhhhh …”
    As her voice trailed off, Nila began to shrink.
    Her head, her arms, her entire body grew tinier … tinier … until she disappeared into her clothes.
    And a few seconds later, as Sari and I gaped down in horror and shock, a black scarab crawled out from under the sweatshirt and jeans. The scarab moved unsteadily at first. Then it quickly scuttled away over the dirt floor, disappearing into the darkness.
    “That — that beetle —” Sari stammered. “Is it Nila?”
    I nodded. “I