“How are we going to fight that thing?” Kate asked breathlessly.
“Since we’re in a church, we might want to pray,” Malcolm offered, climbing to them over a large piece of marble. The few stained-glass faces still intact on the walls watched with silent empathy.
Simon stared in wonder at the destructive machine of Ra. The mummy was motionless, as if unsure of its next move now that the primary mission was accomplished. Clearly, it felt no threat from Simon and his team. It was immensely old magic that held Ra together, but Simon knew that any magic could be undone. They only needed the proper spell and the time to enact it. At the moment, they had neither of those things. His tattered group formed around him, looking expectantly for answers. “We have to break its anchor to our world.”
“Nephthys,” Kate said.
“Right.” Simon knelt in the midst of his people. “If we can deprive it of the human being inside, we can weaken it, perhaps even sever the spell.”
“That’s impossible,” Ash slurred. “You can’t get through the Skin of Ra.”
Simon frowned at the dead body. “How did you live so long? If you can’t help, shut up.”
Penny climbed next to Simon. “I saw her eyes when the thing was wrapping her up; it wasn’t what she wanted or expected. It was horrible. It looked like it was tearing her apart.”
Malcolm said, “I shot her; hit her square. Unless it’s keeping her alive somehow.”
“Alive may not matter. It’s the connection to the human form that allows the Skin of Ra to function completely in our reality.” Simon looked up at the cracking ceiling, racking his brain. “How can we separate the linen from Nephthys? My shock wave disrupted it, but I’ve lost that power.”
“I may have it.” Penny held up the small gun with the tuning fork. “I can rig this to overload. It will explode and create a disturbance similar to your shock wave. I hope.”
Simon raised a thoughtful eyebrow. “We’ll try it. But we need to distract it so that Penny has a clean shot.” He glanced up. “Malcolm?”
The Scotsman huffed and raised a pistol. “Fine. It’s what I do best around here. Distract monsters with my vulnerability.”
“Right you are. Keep that thing’s attention on you for as long as you can. Penny, prepare your weapon. Kate, I’m praying you have your Greek fire.”
Kate looked shocked and began to run her hands over her depleted bandolier. She checked the few glass vials remaining and finally breathed out in relief. “One.”
“One is all you’ll need or have the chance to use.” Simon stood, eyeing the writhing creature in the aisle. “Hogarth, I need you up top in case we need to pin it down. Malcolm, Hogarth, off you go. Good luck, gentlemen.”
“What about me?” Charlotte now wore Hogarth’s waistcoat, which came down to her thighs.
“You stand against the wall and try to stay alive,” Kate commanded.
Malcolm vaulted a chunk of wreckage to maneuver toward the far side of the crumbling church. Hogarth nodded without question and climbed the pulpit into the upper gallery over their heads.
Penny activated the tuning fork on her bizarre pistol. A rumble began to build. Her teeth chattered as the weapon vibrated into a high-pitched whine. She held it until her entire body shook wildly.
Malcolm leapt onto a pyramid of smashed pews and opened fire. The Lancaster boomed and hissed, throwing heavy balls into the mummy. The creature staggered slightly and the whipping strands of linen that had been reaching and stretching around it began to aim toward Malcolm. The Scotsman leapt down and ran, raising his second pistol and firing as he moved quickly along the wall. The mummy was punched to one knee, staggered but unharmed. More tendrils slithered out toward the fleeing Malcolm.
Simon waved his hand in front of the nearly insensible Penny, catching her attention, and signaled her to throw. With great effort, she lifted the vibrating gun, her feet slipping on the floor, and she heaved it toward the mummy. It hit the floor and bounced to the bandaged feet. The mummy seemed to pause in its pursuit of the Scotsman and bent slightly toward the little quivering object that was causing the stones around it to vibrate off the floor.
Then the small pistol exploded and the air rippled. The soundless impact blossomed. The Skin of Ra cracked as if it were a picture painted on glass and the mass of linen blew outward. Nephthys was visible suspended in the center of the tangle of limp cloth that writhed about her. Her body was no longer that of a nubile woman; it was a withered husk, drained of life and energy, but the linen refused to release what gave it form.