Panic at the Tomb: A Translocator Story

By M.G. Herron

An ancient Egyptian tomb holds secrets… and the life of an innocent child.

 

Eliana Fisk is suffering debilitating panic attacks that paralyze and incapacitate her. Spending months stranded on an alien planet will do that to a person.

 

When a girl gets trapped in the tomb of an ancient Egyptian, the effort of trying to save her nearly pushes Eliana over the edge. She must overcome her own phobias to save the girl, or else she'll become the reason they both get buried alive.

 

Set in M.G. Herron's Translocator Universe, this sci-fi short story takes place between The Auriga Project and The Alien Element. Grab a seat and enjoy the adventure in Cairo!

• Language: English
• Publisher: M.G. Herron
• Release date: Nov 10, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393092032

Book preview

Panic at the Tomb

PANIC AT THE TOMB

A TRANSLOCATOR STORY

M.G. HERRON

MGHERRON.COM

CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

The Auriga Project

About the Author

Also by M.G. Herron

Herron’s Heroes

Copyright © 2018 by Matthew G. Herron

MG Publishing LLC

All rights reserved.

---

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, businesses, events, or locales is purely coincidental. This story may not be reproduced without express written consent.

---

First Edition: June 2018

Second Edition: May 2022

CHAPTER ONE

Butterflies fluttered in Eliana’s stomach as the wheels of the plane jounced down onto the tarmac, rocking unevenly. She reached for the arms of her chair and inadvertently grabbed the sleeve of the Sikh man sitting beside her. Though she knew it would be awkward, the clenched muscles of her hand refused to release. The engines roared in reverse, pressing her body to her seat and the breath from her lungs as the plane slowed to a stop. Her neighbor tilted his turbaned head down to stare at Eliana’s hand, and a bushy white eyebrow tilted up to wrinkle his brown forehead.

S-sorry, Eliana stammered, forcing herself to remove her hand from the sleeve of his shirt, a loose cotton tunic often worn by middle eastern men living in desert climates. The fabric of his was dark blue, with gold thread in a design that bent and turned elegantly, unnoticeably in on itself. Looking at the complex pattern caused her heart to race faster. She couldn’t make heads or tails of where it started or stopped. Nearby, someone sneezed, causing her to flinch as if a firecracker had been set off by her ear.

It’s quite all right, dear, the man said with a British accent. He was old enough to be her grandfather, and his warm smile and pleasant reaction calmed her somewhat. That was far from the best landing I’ve ever experienced.

I’m just a little jumpy, is all. Eliana swallowed against the dryness of her throat. Several seconds passed before she realized the man was talking to her again, and she had to force herself to focus in order to make out each of his words.

—so I understand how you feel. My daughter doesn’t like flying, either.

I’m usually fine. I just… She shook her head. It’s been a rough couple months. Eliana turned her face away. She hadn’t been able to talk about her experiences on Kakul with anyone except her husband, let alone with a stranger she had been sat next to on a plane. She suddenly missed Amon, and ached for home even though she had chosen to take this trip and had been gone less than a day. Her mother had said repeatedly, as if trying to convince herself, that she thought Eliana was doing quite well considering what she’d been through—her stranding and subsequent near-death experiences in Kakul.

But her mother’s insistence didn’t prevent her from jumping at loud noises, or waking up screaming in the middle of the night, covered in a cold sweat and shivering. She wondered what madness had possessed her to travel to Egypt on her own in this condition. Perhaps she’d thought that returning to the patterns of her old life as an archaeologist would calm her.

Apparently, it wasn’t working.

She turned back to man. Sorry, again.

The grandfatherly Sikh’s face wrinkled into a polite smile. He waved off the comment like it was an insubstantial insect buzzing in front of his face and bent down to collect his carry-on luggage from beneath the seat in front of him.

Eliana did what her psychologist had trained her to do when she felt a panic attack coming on, and focused on her breathing—six seconds in, pause, six seconds out, in sets of five. It was a coping mechanism designed to calm the mind and quiet anxiety without drawing undue social attention in public settings. And, surprisingly, it worked. After a couple minutes of counting her breaths, the tremors in her inhalations subsided and she began to get herself back under control. By then, the plane had taxied to the gate and the people in front of her had begun to clear off. She finally had room to stand, and she did so gratefully, stretching her legs after the long flight. Eliana grabbed her camping backpack from an overhead compartment, stood, and exited with the crowd.

This was meant to be a short trip, and the weather in Cairo was hot and dry, so she had packed light. Eliana didn’t know exactly where Lakshmi was, only that her former college roommate and archaeologist colleague was working on obtaining some kind of permit in Cairo. Lakshmi was rumored to be searching for the undiscovered tomb of a Pharaoh in the area. Eliana’s work had brought her