The Anubis Plague полностью

Located approximately 100 miles northwest of New York City, the Catskill Mountains were the favorite vacation spot for the Kane family. Every summer, they’d take a week and camp at Bear Spring Mountain, something they all lived for. Even the children, like their parents, loved the outdoors.

Zahra Amelia Kane had always dreamt of becoming exactly like her parents. George and Hanan were famous in the world of archaeology and history. It was a subject that Zahra and her younger brother adored, though lately, Baahir had become enthralled — obsessed even — with Ancient Egypt. No one could blame him.

Hanan Kane’s ancestry dated back generations, and was wholly Egyptian. Half of her blood flowed through Zahra and Baahir’s veins. Their father was of English and Irish descent and had been born and raised in Long Island, New York. It was there, at the Museum of Natural History in Manhattan, that George and Hanan had first met. They had said many times that it had been love at first sight. Hanan had been stateside, studying abroad at New York University. As luck would have it, she and George would later be rostered in the same archaeology class.

From then on, the two never left the other’s side — much to the chagrin of Hanan’s family back in Egypt. They had not been thrilled that she had fallen in love with a boisterous American. But she didn’t care. The two married the day after they graduated from NYU, and Hanan Hassan became Hanan Kane.

Their camping trip in the Catskills had come to an end, and now they were on the drive home. The entire week had been a fantastic experience for them all, mostly because they had been able to spend it together with no distractions. The Kanes had traveled the world together, but it was still hard to have just family time. Their work took them all over, yet they consistently refused anything to do with Egypt, which was odd considering their heritage. Baahir had become increasingly resentful towards his parents, even at such a young age. He loved Egypt, and George and Hanan had always quickly refused any, and all, jobs there.

Probably has something to do with Mom’s family, Zahra thought, rolling her eyes. The twelve-year-old was a clone of her mother in many ways. She sported the same striking eyes and a thick mop of identical black, perfectly straight hair. The Kane siblings both had their mother’s skin tone, too.

“You’re very lucky,” George had once joked.

“Why is that?” Zahra asked, sitting on the floor of the living room.

He grinned. “Because you don’t turn into a lobster when you get too much sun.”

Hanan had laughed from somewhere in the kitchen. “Why do you think I always carry around butter and lemons?”

The memory made Zahra smile. The conversation had come after a boy in school had commented on her skin color…

In a not-so-friendly way.

Zahra had punched the kid in the nose after the snide remark. Growing up in New York around the same time as the attack on the World Trade Center was difficult for anyone of Middle Eastern descent. Since then, Zahra and Baahir had been homeschooled.

But it wasn’t all bad. That decision had opened up their parents’ travel schedule. They became free to go wherever they wanted — whenever they wanted. Prior to that point in time, George and Hanan had turned down big opportunities because of their children.

While Zahra looked like her mother on the outside, she was one hundred percent her father her the inside. George was exactly how Hanan’s family had described him. He was a boisterous American. Tall, handsome, more than a little cocky. But in private, he was a sweet and loving human being. He adored his wife and children. Few got to see George like that. Zahra loved both sides of her father’s personality. He was tough as nails when he had to be, and soft and kind when the time came. George had grown up a scrappy, poor kid on the streets of New York. And more than a little of that feistiness had stayed with him as the years passed.

As they drove out of the Catskills, Zahra leaned around her mother’s seat and spied the two lovebirds clasping hands. Her father drove with his free hand, a dangerous game under normal circumstances. The Catskills featured many narrow, winding mountain roads, but George had a lot of experience navigating them. This had been their fifteenth trip together here — Zahra’s twelfth and Baahir’s tenth. So far, since the kids were born, the Kanes had never missed a summer on Bear Spring Mountain.

“You okay, kiddo?” George asked, spying Zahra’s glum face.

She nodded. “Yeah, I’m just sad we have to go home.”

He nodded. “Me too, kiddo. Me too. But look at it this way, in a couple weeks, we’ll be in Japan! Isn’t that cool!”

“How ’bout you, champ?”