Chapter One: A Dark Shadow Looms

The sun was merciless. It beat down on the young blond's head and burned his scalp, even through the wide brimmed hat he wore for protection. The winds blew hot and dry against his sensitive skin. For the hundredth time this month, he silently cursed his dad's sudden fervor for checking out the ruins of ancient Egypt for the family vacation. Ever since the Winter of '23, when Lord Carnavon of England had opened King Tut's tomb and discovered its many treasures, Egypt had become the fashionable place to visit and Craig Taylor was fashionable if nothing else. The young man, barely out of school and Craig's only son, loved how his dad enjoyed traveling. It gave the young man the chance to taste a little more that life had to offer than he could get in his hometown in America. He particularly enjoyed being able to sketch all the fascinating people and places he saw in their travels. The problem was that Egypt was so damned hot. Justin didn't like heat that much.

The young man pulled his pocket watch out of his pants pocket and checked the time again. It had been a graduation gift from his parents and they had engraved their sentiments on the inside. "For Justin, our beloved son...as he begins his journey to manhood" it said. He was especially grateful for the gift now as he needed it to make sure he got back to the nearby hotel before his folks realized he'd gone out on his own. It hadn't been easy to convince them to let him visit the town's marketplace with their guide while they went off on a tour of the newly built museum. It took all the cajoling talent he could muster, but he really wanted to sketch the pyramids on his own time.

Justin was fully aware that his father didn't approve of his obsession with artistic endeavors. The man wanted his son to join the family business like most men of their time did. He had even had a sign already commissioned that said 'Taylor and Son...Furniture Emporium'. Justin was grateful for his dad's successful business. It afforded the family a better than average lifestyle, but Justin hated the business world. He had seen things through an artistic eye by the time he was three. His mom, Jennifer, still kept all the papers he had scribbled on with the paints and brushes she provided him. She had even promised him that she would do her best to convince his father to support his desire to attend Carnegie Mellon College of Fine Art. The institute was less than twenty years old but already had a fine reputation. He wasn't so sure his father would agree, but he would face that battle when they got back home.

Right now, he had spent the last few hours basking in the luxury of sketching on his ever present sketchpad without anyone looking over his shoulder. It was getting late in the day and he knew it was time to find Omar, his guide, and get back. Besides, he had had enough of the heat. The hotel was much cooler, with huge fans overhead that constantly moved to cool the air down. If his parents found out about his solo excursion, they might ground him from other adventures. He re-pocketed his watch, closed his sketchpad, and rose from the stone bench that had been placed there by archeologist just for the purpose of sitting and admiring the great pyramids that rose so majestically from the desert floor. The sun caused a huge shadow to fall to the side of the pyramid, giving it a depth it might not have had otherwise. The sight took the young man's breath away. It was more than majestic.

Justin pulled his large brimmed hat from his head and swiped again at his face, trying to erase the sand that seemed to cling to his skin. He replaced his hat and strode off in the direction of the barricades that had been set up some distance away where more than a dozen tents of all sizes were set up. The barricades limited movement to the viewing area down to foot traffic only. Justin trudged off, kicking at the ground as he went. He kept his head down to avoid the sand the wind frequently blew in his direction. He finally looked up as he passed the barricades. He looked over at the large 1920 Packard twin six car that his guide used to bring them out from the town and expected to see his guide waiting impatiently or maybe taking a snooze. He couldn't see the man anywhere. He couldn't see any living soul, even though there had been a couple of dozen people, both Arabic and Westerners milling about when he first arrived several hours earlier.

Suddenly Justin felt uneasy. It was quiet...too quiet. Even the wind had died down. He couldn't even hear any sounds coming from the nearby tents. It was as if the whole community had fallen asleep. Just as he was on the edge of shouting out for Omar, he heard a soft sound, very like a groan, coming from a nearby vehicle, parked very close to his own. He couldn't see a thing out of place, so he decided to check the other side. He rounded the end of the car and saw a heap lying motionless on the ground near the running board of the large black car.

Justin rushed forward, falling to his knees as he reached the body of what turned out to be his guide. It was then that he could see the blood on the front of the swarthy young man's turban and the reddened gash in his forehead.

"Omar, what happened?" Justin asked in a panic.

He lifted the slightly older man up by his shoulders, but the head fell back. Omar was completely unconscious. Justin tried shaking him, but nothing worked. It was at that moment that Justin felt a chill. The sun disappeared and a long shadow covered both their bodies. Justin whirled his neck around and, for a split second, saw a tall slender figure wrapped in a flowing white gown standing over him. Before he could utter a word, he saw an arm raise high up from the creatures side and start its arc back down in a blinding flash. One extremely brief moment in time after that and Justin saw and felt nothing else. The world went totally black.

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The slender young blond man tried to open his eyes. Each time he did, the blinding pain forced them closed again. He tried to think cognizant thoughts behind his closed eyelids, but nothing would form inside his brain. Finally he was able to make out the sound of a voice. He made another attempt at opening his eyes, and this time it worked. The pain was still there, but he was adjusting. He saw a boy with olive skin and large brown eyes, dressed in tattered clothing, staring at him from a nearby cot. He was quite dirty, but there was something sweet looking about him.

"Hey kid," he whispered across the room, "you'd better get up. They will be here soon to feed us and they only come once. If you are not awake, they will leave you hungry."

The blond shook his head to clear his vision. It was a mistake. He saw sparkling red dots clouding his vision even more.

"Are you all right? You must not pass out again." The dark haired youth had a strong English accent.

The blond tried again to concentrate harder and stay aware of his surroundings. It was then that he saw the bars on the cell he was lying in.

"Where am I? What is this place? How did I get here? And who are you?" he begged the other occupant of his cell.

"Stop! I can only answer one question at a time, Sir," he announced. "You are in a lock up where they keep us until they are ready for us. We are located just outside of Giza. I do not know how you got here. You are not of our country, that I am certain of. And I am Said. I was late of the British school in Cairo, but I made the mistake of wanting to visit the great Pyramids of Giza. I foolishly left the train to pay a visit. The next thing I know, I have been kidnapped. I would believe the bandits took me to ransom, but my family does not have money to pay. I am afraid the bandits have other plans for me...and no doubt for you too. So, please to tell me how you got to this place yourself and who you are."

"I..." The young man stopped. He could not remember....anything. How did he get here? And what the hell was his name. Tears sprang to his eyes. He couldn't remember. Why was he in this place? Was he kidnapped too. Was he a fellow student. But no, this boy, this Said obviously didn't know him. But who did? The blond fell back on the dirty cot he had lain on. He turned over onto his side. That was when he felt something hard against his leg. He stuck his hand into his pants pocket and pulled out a kerchief and pocket watch. He tossed the white linen to the side and stared at the high quality watch in his hand. He slowly flipped its lid open. he saw the engraving. "For Justin, our beloved son..." Was that him? Justin? Was that his name? It didn't sound familiar. A great wave of fear swept over the young man. He felt lost, abandoned. He laid back down, grasping the single bit of evidence of who he might be closely to his heart. The tears flowed.

To be continued.......