'Listen, you've all been duped,' she called out, and sidled toward the dubious cover of an enclosed control stand. 'He's been using you'using your bodies, using your souls! You don't have to believe his lies any more!'
A grenade rolled out of the darkness and Sarah barely had time to get her head down and covered before it exploded, throwing vicious shrapnel all over the street. The pipes and towers rang with a million tiny impacts.
Sarah ducked back under the pipes where Ptolemy waited patiently for her. 'It's not working,' she told him. He touched his painted mouth.
She frowned in confusion, then nodded as realization dawned. She reached into the pocket of her sweatshirt and touched the soapstone.
perhaps speak they english don't perhaps speak english
He had an excellent point.
Once she'd gotten her composure back she shoved the lich out into the street and ducked out behind him, moving it quickly into a well-lit alley. She shoved her pistol into its back and nearly retched. Where her Makarov had touched its hospital gown yellow fluid welled up and stained the cloth.
'Move,' she told it. The lich raised its hands and shuffled forward. Sarah kept close. The people living in the refinery wouldn't dare shoot her if they might accidentally hit their overlord. She pushed it forward like an inhuman shield until she'd reached the refinery gates, only to find that someone had preceded her'they were locked tight.
Sarah nearly wet herself. She had no idea what to do next. The Russians, she had no doubt, were far less bewildered. They were probably gathering in the shadows even as she turned in slow circles, looking for them, they were probably setting up some kind of ambush. Her eyes darted back and forth as she looked for cover'she had no chance, she knew, if it came down to a protracted firefight but maybe she could'
Ptolemy came up out of the darkness and grabbed the chain link gates in his big hands. With a sound like linen tearing he strained and heaved until the fencing tore away from its uprights with a wild metallic squeal.
'Mumiyah,'someone said in the darkness. 'Mumiyah!' Sarah could hear many feet scurrying away as the Russians nearly stampeded each other trying to escape.
Sarah turned to look at her undead partner as if he'd sprouted horns. What on earth had scared the refinery's living so badly? She reached into her pocket.
we return should go before go they should return
'Yeah. I guess we should.' She held her gaze on him for a while, then turned and bent to pass under the gap he'd made in the fence.
They made their way into the dark interior of the island where Sarah slept while the mummy watched their prisoner. In the minutes she lay curled inside a blanket, watching his painted face motionless in the starlight, she wondered what exactly she was accomplishing that he couldn't have done himself. They had failed to save his mummies'except for one, maybe, but there was no way to know. She imagined he was probably after vengeance and nothing else. Sarah had no problem using his wrath to help save Ayaan but she had to wonder'was she even helping Ptolemy? Was she just slowing him down?
Added to what she'd learned from the lich she wasn't sure if she hadn't made a terrible mistake. If someone was going to rescue Ayaan, what made her think she was qualified? Who was she trying to kid? She was twenty years old. She'd never lead so much as a squad into combat. Now she had one coward pilot and one insane and vengeful mummy and she had to tell them what to do, when even she had very little idea what to do next.