I woke before the sun had risen, breath catching in my throat. My skin was damp with sweat, and the sheet had twisted around my legs. My shirt clung to my back, cold where it stuck. I lay still, suspended in the remnants of a dream already slipping away.
There had been laughter. A man's voice, warm with amusement. The world wheeling around us. The sky above had been endless, blindingly blue. There was a sense of falling and safety all at once. Then it was gone.
Pale light seeped in underneath the canvas walls, hinting at the approaching dawn. For a moment, I couldn't remember where I was. I blinked, and a tear slid down my cheek. I touched my face and stared at the wet tips of my fingers, confused by the grief that seemed to come from nowhere.
I sat up slowly; the dream had left a hollow ache behind, the sensation catching me off guard. Looking over, I saw that Eliza was already gone, her cot empty. Her blanket had been folded and set neatly on her pillow.
Panic flared in my chest and I reached under my pillow for my phone; I hadn't remembered setting an alarm. The screen lit up, and I exhaled. I was a few minutes early. But with Eliza already gone, it meant that others were likely awake too.
Digging through my bag, I found the prescription bottle and shook out my daily dose. My hand went automatically to the canteen. A quick shake confirmed what I already knew. It was empty. I'd forgotten to fill it before bed. Setting it aside, I swallowed the pills dry, the bitter taste catching in the back of my throat that took me by surprise. Dressing took more effort than it should have. In the dim light, I fumbled with my pants and nearly lost my balance trying to get one leg through.
I stepped out and walked towards the dining area, the smell of coffee reaching me before I got to see the tables. Most of the crew was already clustered around them, shoulders hunched against the early morning. A few people sipped from their mugs, their eyes narrowed as if trying to decide whether the coffee was worth finishing.
Marcus, familiar from the night before, saw me approaching and raised a hand in quiet acknowledgment. He stepped forward and offered me a mug without speaking. His hair was rumpled, matching the rest of him in a way that suggested he'd only just rolled out of bed.
"Morning," I said, accepting the mug. The heat of it was immediate against my hands as I took a sip.
It was black and bitter, lingering on my tongue but I didn't mind. It went down easily enough.
"Glad you're not one of the ones bitching about it," he said, giving a short laugh. "It's coffee. It does the job."
I glanced back toward the group. "Give it three days. By then, they'll be swearing it's the best coffee they've ever had."
Someone brushed past me, their shoulder bumping mine hard enough that hot coffee splashed against my hands. I hissed in pain and looked up to see Cassie walking away. She glanced back, her mouth drawn into a flat line and eyebrows drawn together in disgust.
"What is her deal?" I muttered, wiping my hands on my pants before draining the rest of my coffee.
A few moments later, Eldon emerged from the operations tent, talking to someone out of view. Cassie moved toward him immediately, her hand landing on his chest, fingers trailing up his shirt. She said something I couldn't hear, her mouth brushing the edge of his jaw. Then she pulled him back into the tent with her.
Marcus let out a breath beside me and gave me a cautious look.
"Why does it feel like we're stuck in some high school drama?" I muttered, crossing my arms.
My eyes lingered on the tent flap a moment longer. Whatever Cassie wanted from Eldon, she could have it. As far as I was concerned, the farther he stayed from me, the better. Something about him made my skin crawl.
I heard Marcus snort softly. He looked over at me, brows raised slightly, then gave me a short nod. "You know, I'm glad you're not falling all over yourself for Eldon like the rest of them. We'll get along just fine."
I glanced at him. "Aren't we supposed to be here to work? It seems too important for people to be playing around like this."
"It's like something gets into people once they're around him too long. Eliza-" He stopped himself, then shifted his weight. "Let's just say I prefer working with people who still see things clearly."
He dropped his mug on the table, gesturing for me to do the same. "Come on. I'll show you where you'll be working."
We walked past a row of tents and stopped in front of one marked with a red flag.
"Red means not cataloged yet," he explained. "Recovered items come here first. The main chambers items have been removed. Once the unsealed rooms are opened, the flow of items should be staggered enough to keep things manageable."
"Sealed?" I asked.
"Some passages are blocked by stone or debris, but others remain intact. We think the tomb extends deeper than the original survey suggested. It's still unclear whether the sealed rooms were intentional or caused by collapse."
I stepped inside. The interior was cooler and the shelves had been stacked with rows of gray boxes. A folding table sat in the center, covered with faded cloth and several fragments laid out in rows. A broken vase. A small Anubis statue missing its base. Most of the paint had worn off, but the lines were still visible.
"Initial scans showed a small tomb, but it looks like there are passageways branching off to the sides and extending beneath it," Marcus said. "The Cairo team went in first, but they couldn't agree on the dating. Some thought it belonged to one dynasty, others insisted on another. Then there were accusations of planted artifacts. It got messy fast."
"And they brought in Eldon's team?" None of it made sense. He wasn't connected to any of the top universities that usually got assignments like this. Even a basic internet search hadn't turned up much. It wasn't like he had some impressive track record that explained why he'd been chosen, especially for a site this important.
"Pretty much. Between the sealed passages and the strange dating, they wanted a clean slate. And Eldon has the reputation for that. Or rather, he has the backing of some deep pockets."
A tight look crossed his face as he said it, like the words left a bad taste.
"Come on let me show you something," he said as he lifted the flap again and stepped outside, motioning me to follow. He pointed up at the cliff face above camp.
"This was all solid rock a few months ago," he said. "Then a sandstorm hit. It was pretty violent, with lightning storms. It kept hitting this part of the ridge over and over."
"Isn't that unusual?" I shaded my eyes with one hand, squinting up at the ridge. Even from here, the rock looked fractured. The gouges cut deep into the surface, oddly shaped like claw marks, but massive, each one several feet long.
He picked up a chunk of rock and tossed it in the air before catching it. "High iron maybe. But after it cleared, this section had collapsed. They found a narrow opening in the stone, barely enough to crawl through."
"So how did Eldon end up with it?" I kept my tone casual, "How's Cassie involved?"
"Cassie worked for the Luxor Antiquities Inspectorate. She was the one who contacted Eldon. Filed for a permit and got it expedited. Normally this would've gone to another Egyptian team. But Cairo messed up, and..."
He trailed off as we stepped back into the tent, and my own interest was captured as I looked over to the table again. There were pottery fragments neatly arranged under a cloth fabric. One of the ceramic pieces still had red and blue pigment clinging to the ridges.
"Make sure you get a sense of scale in every shot," Marcus said behind me. "Use this ruler. Doesn't matter what else is in frame. But we need the measurements."
I nodded and reached for the camera bag, unzipping it and checking the battery out of habit. The lens cap came off next, tucked into the side pocket, and I attached the strap before slipping it over my neck. The familiar weight settled against my chest as I powered it on and adjusted the settings.
"I'm glad you're here," he added. "Since Addison left, it's just been me in here. I'd rather be out where the action is." He paused. "You'll be helping document the new sections once they're open, so you won't be stuck in here the whole time."
Then he left.
The process was simple enough: photograph, upload, assign label. Then repeat. And repeat. The hours passed with little change. The routine didn't bother me, it gave me something to focus on.
I was halfway through the second box when my fingers closed around a pottery shard, roughly triangular. The moment my skin made contact with it, there was a sickening lurch.
Blood. Everywhere. The scream trapped in my throat.
It spread across the table in dark, viscous pools. It dripped from the edges of the shelves, pooling on the ground at my feet. The smell of copper and iron filled my nostrils, so thick I could taste it on my tongue. My hands - my hands were covered in it, slick and warm, the pottery shard slipping in my crimson-stained fingers.
I nearly dropped it, nearly let it fall to shatter against the ground. But some deeper part of me, some part of me that remained anchored to reason, guided my trembling hands as I set it down with infinite care. My breath came in short, sharp gasps, and I could feel my heart hammering against my ribs.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I pressed the heels of my palms against them until I saw stars. When I opened them again, the blood was gone. The tent was as it had been, my hands were clean.
The heat. It had to be the heat. I had been working for hours in the stifling air of the tent, and the desert heat was merciless. People had hallucinations in the desert all the time. Mirages were common enough. This was no different, just my mind playing tricks on me.