Yes, that Shanghai. Yes, in an aeroplane made to haul cargo, piloted by a one-legged pilot. And we have company in the air, too, courtesy of the pilot's coworker and Mah'muhd, plus an Egyptian British Officer we... accidentally sort of kidnapped. Short story, Ewan's dead (poor bastard), the Brotherhood ambushed us, we have new fire-forged friends, and we barely made it out of Cairo alive. Long story, well... read on.
It begins with us all waking up in a dark, massive room, hands tied behind our backs, heads aching. Clearly a temple - green soapstone processional bridge, massive onyx pillars carven with grotesque designs, barely flickering torches the only light source, and beyond the processional bridge itself, a huge empty hole to nowhere. We hear chanting, we see shadows move, and before us, a bone-white shoal leading into a pit of water. Water which, black and murky, swarmed with a profusion of... something in mass amounts. Strange noises behind the chanting, Middle Egyptian I think, sounded of croaking and chirping and animal snarling, and the smell of damp earth was everywhere. And when we looked to see what animals there were, we found there were none - only strange, horrific-looking humanoids with animal heads and rotting flesh clad in bandages.
We soon realized, as we awoke, that we'd been captured by the Brotherhood - they were the ones chanting, you see, and were even wearing the gold masks we saw back in London. Not only were we up shit creek without a paddle, we were halfway up the damn river, because all of us were about to be sacrificed to their god.
Then, Omar Shakti... that bastard, he appeared and gloated. Let me tell you, I was livid seeing him lord over us like that, especially with that sick and twisted smirk. Reminds me of the Black Pharaoh's smirk, it does, and the less said about that memory the better. I think, in all honestly, he wanted to get under our skins, and in at least Sarah, Laurent, and Ludwig's cases, he succeeded. Ewan and I, we were too stubborn to give up now, especially Ewan. He always hated seeing the common man oppressed by the rich, and this was no exception. He certainly gave Shakti a few choice words... not that it helped.
In fact, it really didn't, because after your stereotypical "You'll never get away with this!" diatribe, I heard him proceed to walk away and murmur something in Arabic to his gold-masked followers. Something that made my blood run cold as I saw the black water pit before me ripple.
"Throw them into the leech-pit."
To say we all panicked when we felt the cold, rotting, desiccated hands of those man-animal creatures grip us and toss us onto the slippery white shoal would be an understatement. Then Sarah landed next to a very oddly-shaped rock, stared at it for about five seconds, and shrieked... and we all realized the awful truth. These weren't rocks at all. None of the pallid shapes making up the the shoal were. These were human bones. The dark waters rippled, and the shapes below... swarmed.
I thought fast, and managed to use a sharp bone to slice my bonds. Sarah caught on to my action and tried to do the same, but while she worked, she too began to slip. I quickly grabbed her arm before she tumbled into the waters, and instructed her to try and grab poor Ewan's arm. She was shaking, but she managed. His grasp was weak, she said... so weak, but together we managed to pull him up onto the shore of bones. The leeches writhed and clung to his flesh like wriggling tentacles, and we rushed to try and pull the things off him. Ewan was left shaking and pale from blood loss, covered in bites and chunks of lost flesh, his sanity shaken to the core. He was missing half an arm down to the bone and had slipped his bonds that way. It was bad enough for us to witness, but I can't imagine how it must have felt...
Fear gripped us as we all realized our likely fate. We were all going to die like this, consumed by leeches from the pits of some black hell I dare not contemplate. Then, Sarah noticed something.
"It's Mah'muhd!" she whispered, nodding towards the shadows, and we all soon directed our attention to where she indicated. Sure enough, there was the intrepid, plucky boy we'd hired as a guide so long ago now, sneaking between the shadows with the aplomb of a master thief. "He's got a plan... he'll distract them, we just need to run..."
I gave the boy a terse nod, and watched as he grabbed some rubble and started running, throwing the rocks behind him. Sure enough, the animal-headed things followed the sound, while the human worshipers were too caught up in their blasphemous praises to suspect we were going to escape. Clever kid - damn foolish and maybe too brave for his own good, but clever. The climb was steep but desperate. Sarah, surer in her footing now, sliced the bonds on Ludwig and Laurent, and together we slowly tried to make our way off the morbid shoals. Once there, we moved with as much speed as we could silently manage to the door of the great temple - only to find it blocked by a massive wooden deadbolt. I was about to help move it when Ewan turned to look back, and cried out in fear. Then we all turned, and realized what deep trouble we were in. Something was approaching from out of the massive black hole in one of the walls, and the cultists were indeed beginning to notice we had slipped free.
Turns out both Sarah and Ludwig are stronger than they look, even though one of them is an old man. Must be Ludwig's prior military training, because the two of them hefted the rotten chunk of wood like it was nothing. A massive roar broke free, familiar from our horrid nightmares of the Black Sphinx, and Ewan's shrieking paralleled it as we slammed the massive door open and ran for it. I think Ewan must have fainted from fear or blood loss at some point, because he collapsed and Ludwig ended up hefting him over one shoulder. At this point, Mah'muhd joined back up with us, and we just ran.
I scarcely remember the flight through those horrendous catacombs of ancient dread, but at every turn those animal-headed things ambushed us. I don't know how we dodged it all... or how we managed to escape. I just remember at one moment, we were running for a way out, and the next we saw light and ran for it, tumbling through some sort of shimmering barrier to end up sprawled, terrified, before startled visitors at the feet of the Great Sphinx of Giza. Mass panic broke free in the crowd once they saw Ewan, and I begged the nearest, shaken guard in Arabic to get us to Cairo.
"Where did you come from?" He asked, alternately murmuring Koran verses and shaking in confused bewilderment.
"Long story," I said, panicked. "We have a bleeding man, we need medical help. Please. Get help right now... Something's after us! We came from under the Sphinx, I think..."
"No," He responded again, eyes wide and fearful. "No. Impossible. There is no doorway that leads into the Sphinx or anywhere nearby it! All that I saw was the five of you and that little boy come tumbling out of thin air!"
I remember looking back at the Sphinx, and seeing the solid brick wall there. Unpleasant memories of the Bent Pyramid flooded back, overwhelming my senses, shaking my core. No... the door... it had to have been there the whole time, there... how did we leave if there was no door? What if we never actually escaped? Had everything since the Bent Pyramid been some terrible dying dream? I felt my head spin and grow light, and I swear I heard the Black Pharaoh's voice - Nyarlathotep's voice...
"Did you honestly believe you had escaped me, Clayton Byrd?"
His chiding, dark laughter surrounded me, and then I recall nothing. Not until I woke in a hospital bed, the same I had visited in the months before. It was the start of May. I had gone unconscious in the desert, and had been out for the past several days. Nigel was there, sitting in the corner with a grave look. The others seemed alright if scraped up, but their eyes were sad, and someone was conspicuously absent...
"Ewan?" I asked, sitting up with a start. The others would not meet my gaze, and Sarah turned away in tears, Mah'muhd clinging to her skirt.
"I am sorry, Herr Byrd," Ludwig murmured, hat in his hands and voice low. "There vas nothing zey could do... Blood poisoning..."
I felt my resolve sink... and my anger rage like a cold flame. Ewan MacNeill... That bastard Shakti had murdered him. Blood poisoning, my ass, he would never have died if it weren't for that scum of the earth! I could have killed him in the hotel, I had him right there! If I had... if I had only put a bullet in his head sooner... Then maybe Ewan would be alive right now. No. It was settled, Shakti had to die, and I wasn't leaving Cairo until I saw his blood spilled. Then Nigel spoke up, tone serious, and what he said only enraged me further. "Shakti's men are combing Cairo looking for you," he muttered gravely. "We need to get you out of here. Now."
God. Damn. It.
I protested, but nobody was listening. They all agreed with Nigel, and I was outvoted. I had no choice. It was either I stay here in Cairo and die killing Shakti, or leave and let the bastard go. I couldn't choose either. Somewhere out there, I'm sure Nyarlathotep laughed, and I'm sure he was laughing at me. Either way, we all ended up in the back of a canvas-covered truck delivering weapons to a military base somewhere near to Heliopolis' Aerodrome. Mah'muhd was with us; Sarah refused to leave him behind in Cairo. He was an orphan besides, and he was probably safer with her than anywhere else. Nigel had told us he knew a man, one Francis McCloud, who was a pilot and could get us safely out of Cairo, into Shanghai. We could take a ship to wherever we needed to go from there, hopefully somewhere safe. Guy doesn't know us that well, does he, thinking we're going someplace safe?
Color me surprised when we found our missing weapons in the back of that truck! Looks like they'd been sold on the black market. Maybe someone really is looking out for us after all... or perhaps this is all just Nyarlathotep's sick idea of a joke. Or maybe, as Nigel suspected, we'd be caught off-guard and halted at the gate into the aerodrome. Either way, we found ourselves stuck at the border, while Nigel and some guard argued in Arabic about why he had to be let through and why the guard couldn't do that. Then a car came up behind us, and out stepped about ten Brotherhood cultists, armed with rifles. And they weren't even bothering to hide their medallions or tattoos from us this time. Will wonders never cease?
It was around that time that Shakti himself got out... and I saw my chance! I grabbed my gun, took aim, and fired. Unfortunately, I missed. The shot ricocheted into a cultist's shoulder, and then all hell really broke loose. We had no choice but to yell at Nigel to floor it while I chambered a bullet for another shot and stood in the back of the truck. Bullets flew, including mine, and this one actually did make its target - Shakti's chest. He collapsed, gasping and bleeding... but whether he was truly dead, I don't know. I still don't know even now, and it worries me. But that was a clean shot, hit him where his cold heart would be, he was as good as dead. I hope.
"Wait!" the guard from before, whom we later learned was also named Mahmoud, cried as he ran inside after us. "You cannot leave! You're all fugitives, I must take all of you to the Consulate!"
McCloud didn't waste time, as I slammed the door shut behind him, he ran to the cockpit, engaging flight controls. Bullets pinged off the outside of the metal, one even through the hull itself, as the flying junk-heap took to the skies.
"Hang on, folks!" McCloud yelled over the motor with a smirk. "Gonna be a rough one... Don't mind Chief back there by the cargo!"
The turbulence was palpable, and within seconds of take-off we were airborne, the whole plane shaking precipitously. Mah'muhd the Younger looked out the window, eyes wide with a child's curiosity as Sarah pulled him back towards her. A dark-skinned man in rags then peered from behind boxes of what we soon found out were smuggled rum, hands up defensively and murmuring at us not to shoot in what sounded like Swahili.
"McCloud!" The African yelled, clearly unaware of why we were on the plane. "Who in God's name are these people we are smuggling out now?"
"Precious cargo, Chief!" the pilot responded. "Just pretend they're crates of booze, you'll be fine!"
"All of you, stand down!" Mahmoud the Elder cried, pulling his rifle in confusion. "Turn this contraption around now! You are kidnapping a Lieutenant of the British Army!"
"No can do, buddy," McCloud replied back. "Once she's in the air, she's in the air, no questions asked. Next stop - Shanghai!"
"Shanghai?!" The armyman's eyes widened as he realized his situation. "You mean, in China? You are taking me to China?!"
"No, the other Shanghai," I responded cattily, settling in for a long nap as the plane's engines hummed. Mahmoud the Elder looked at me helplessly, holstering his rifle, and slumped to the floor next to Ludwig.
"Are you a drinking man?" The German asked, holding his metal flask up cheerfully. Mahmoud the Elder took a sip, regretful, and realizing his entrapment. Call me nuts, but I'm thinking he's got much bigger problems than kidnapping now.
-- Clayton Byrd, Airborne and Flying Free (May 10th, 1928)