The Time Travelers' Club: Chapter 67 -- Trapped

 Meanwhile, inside the mausoleum, Sam experienced another hiccup in time.  Now, he stood in the same spot where he had been watching the dying Mark Anthony.  But, Mark Anthony was gone.   Cleopatra and her handmaids came running through an open door.  Sam followed, feeling the hard-stone floor beneath his feet, then down steps.

"This is so freakin' odd.   The stone steps feel just like any other stone step."  It wasn't the first time that Sam freaked out over the strangeness of time-travel.

They all ran down the marble stairs to the main entrance.  The two handmaidens pushed the main entrance doors closed, sealing them in.   Sam had read about how no one could get in once these doors were closed.  From there, they rushed back to the mausoleum's inner chamber with Sam right behind them.  He didn't know what was going on, but he kept following them.

Cleopatra dropped onto a small sofa while the handmaidens slammed the chamber's doors.   Waving her hand, the Queen spoke animatedly to her handmaidens.  They nodded and ran off.

"How do you talk hieroglyph?" said Sam, pondering what language she spoke.  "Eye... bird... eye... lion... hand...  I bet Mrs. Steers would know...  Wait, she should have been here by now."

Sam contemplated going to find her. Starting to pull out his notebook with the spells, he turned just into time to see a handmaiden's bosom come right at him.   She ran right through him.  Sam felt the temperature drop and then immediately return to normal.  Stunned, Sam froze in place, before grimacing.

"Oh yuck," cried Sam, turning to her.   "That's disgusting. Take a bath, will ya!"  Her sweaty body odor was mixed with a sweet smell that Sam couldn't identify.   Sam fanned himself and ran in a small circle trying to rid himself of the smell.

The handmaiden stood by Cleopatra.  Sam saw the other handmaiden coming towards him.  Only this time, he jumped out of her way as she sped by.  She carried a small woven basket covered with red cloth. She pulled off the cloth and handed Cleopatra the basket.

In the history books, Sam read about the theories of how Cleopatra died.  The most popular being that she held a deadly-venom asp to her breast, and it bit her.  Another was that she drank poison.   Sam got a feeling that he was about to find out.  Waiting, he listened to her and her handmaidens, wondering what they were saying.

Cleopatra reached into the basket.  Sam was amazed at what he saw.  "Aha, so that's the way she died." 

Moments later, Cleopatra slumped over on the sofa.  Her eyes grew weary, lids drooping.   Sam turned away.  "I can't watch this..."  When he opened them, the room was pitch black and all was quiet.  Feeling for his bag, Sam reached in and pulled out his flashlight.

Clicking it on, Sam flashed it about the room.  He was still in the chamber where he last stood.  He realized it was another hiccup.  Once again, Sam was surrounded by dead bodies -- the queen and her two handmaids.   Sam looked closely at the body of Cleopatra.  Her eyes closed. Sam realized he was alone.

"Mrs. Steers?  Where's Mrs. Steers?"  Sam felt anxious.  He had waited like she had told him, but she hadn't appeared.  "Maybe something happened. Maybe this is my first test.  To see if I can get home by myself."

Being brave came easy to Sam.  "I can do this.  I can do this.  Maybe I should wait a little while longer.  Maybe the hiccups confused her, and she doesn't know where I am."

While contemplating this, he heard a noise like a squeak of a shoe on marble. Footsteps from somewhere in the dark.  Someone was coming.

Sam clicked off his flashlight and stood perfectly still.  He began to repeat. "I must remain calm. I must remain calm. I must remain calm."  He took deep breaths, listening to the footsteps and trying to determine where they were going.

From out of the darkness, a bright beam of light glared in his eyes. Sam feel backwards onto the stone floor.   He dropped his flashlight, hearing the metal canister hit and roll across the stone floor.

"Hello?" said Sam with the light still in his eyes.  He shaded his face with his hand.

"Sam?" said a soft mellow voice.  "Are you Sam?"

"Who wants to know?" said Sam.

"I am the Rescuer.  I am here to rescue you."  The beam moved from his blinded eyes.  The light turned out to be a clear orb housed within a glass ball.  A metal frame wrapped around the ball and formed a handle on top.

Sam looked up at a dark caped figure.  A hood shrouded the figure's face.  A bony handheld the lantern's handle.   The Rescuer leaned forward to look down at him.  Reminded of his nightmares, Sam screamed.  "Don't hurt me!" Sam put his hand out in front of him.

"Well, I hadn't planned on that. So, you are Sam," said the mellow voice.  "I've heard a lot about you from Lottie. And from Griff Graff.  I had to rescue him too not to long ago. Well, it's good to finally meet you.  And don't worry, I have not intentions of hurting you."

Catching his breath, Sam calmed a little. "But... But... who are you?"  said Sam.

The Rescuer sat the lantern down and pulled back the hood of the cloak.  The light reflected off his wire-framed glasses and shined on the face of an old man.  He smoothed out his grey hair, adjusted his glasses.  He spoke in a soft mellow voice.

"I'm Albert Steers."