Read-along Seven Ancient Wonders - Part 22

"It's this one!" she said, reaching down for the pendant she had just read.
West said, "Wait, are you sure-"
If I were to credit Reilly, I would do so with that little exchange. It perfectly illustrates how this is a child, rushing forth to a decision when she is swept up in the adventure, then brought back down to Earth by the advice of an adult whose life is in her hands.
Unfortunately, Reilly is not a good writer, so instead I shall infer from that exchange that these are two rather simple folk trying to solve a puzzle, akin to Laurel and Hardy being left in charge of a munitions supply, or Cheech and Chong in charge of dinner service at the Ritz. Come to think of it, this entire book is starting to sound like a Cheech and Chong adventure.
"Cheech and Chong and the Temple of Poon."
"Kingdom of the Jethro Tull."

They even have the headgear down to pat!

But she moved too quickly and lifted the golden pendant from its shallow recess on the Colossus/ neck.
Rebel.
This really is a Cheech and Chong movie.
The flaming drop-stone lurched.
West snapped up and winced, waiting for the end.
But the drop-stone didn't fall and -chunk!- suddenly his legs were released from their submerged socks.
I think that this writing has just taken on a metaphysical quality, reflecting its own awfulness back into the story. Ignore the shots needed for a moment, instead focus on how the false tension of the scene is transferred ironically onto West, as the system (for no discernible reason) decides to begin acting as if an incorrect decision was made, solely for the purpose of creating a false sense of drama and inevitable doom, when that effect would easily be replicated by playing the opening credits of "The Big Bang Theory" throughout the cavern and would make just as much sense as the trap doing what it just did. This Imhotep guy is kind of a dick, though what do you expect from The Mummy?
Lily had picked the right one.
This book will be the death of me.
She jumped happily back into his arms, holding the heavy golden trapezoid like a newborn baby. She threw him a winning smile.
We'll be the judge of that, Reilly.
"That felt really weird."
"It looked really weird," West said. "Well done, kiddo. Now, let's blow this joint."
Is this book just toying with me, now? Has self awareness grown beyond our comprehension? Is this being written by Sutter Cane? Is he having flashbacks to that time with Wizard, and the smoke inhalation is making him think he's still talking to Wizard or Fuzzy in his university dorm room?
We get it, Reilly, he's Australian.


The Outward Charge

Back they ran.
Take a shot.
West charged through the waist-deep oil pool, pushing hard with every stride, the torch-edged ceiling descending above him.
The only charge I want to see West participate in is The Charge of the Light Brigade. I apologize for bringing actual culture into this book. Maybe now West and every other character in this book will die a slow and painful death from syphilis.
They hit the floor of the entry hall as the lowering ceiling hit 70 centimetres in height.
Come on Reilly, it's bad form to switch between numbers and letters in sentences. I know that he tries to differentiate between the "humans" and the ceiling, but that sentence still makes me think that the torches are the subject and that they are the things which have entered the oil, thus killing these dick-bags, though I admit that this is probably wishful thinking on my part.
The smoke coming in from outside was now choking, dense.
Like this prose.
Lily crouch-ran across the wide -low-ceilinged space, while Horus swooped through the haze.
There was a lot happening in that sentence, it was really clunky to read. I am pretty sure that "ceilinged" isn't a real word. There is one high point in my opinion: Horus "swooping through the haze" is a great image, it sounds like a Grateful Dead album cover.

Now we know where Matthew got his inspiration...

West was the slowest, scrambling on all fours, slipping every which way in his oil-slicked boots, until at the very end of the chamber, as the ceiling became unbearably low, he dived onto his belly, sliding head-first for the entire last 4 metres, emerging just as the ceiling hit the floor with a resounding boom and closed off the Colossus' chamber.
A lot happened in that sentence. There were more commas than a primary school textbook exercise on how to write lists. There were so many commas that it made me ignore the fact that we have an oiled up Australian gliding like a Jamaican bobsled team whilst a hawk glides through smoke created by a burning boulder chamber filled with stone socks.
This has just turned around on itself and become amazing again. If I wanted a sentence which summed up Reilly as a writer whose ridiculousness becomes incredible genius of the highest, stupidest order, I would pick that one...
Is a sentence I would say, if we didn't have the rest of the book to read.
In addition to this, I have decided that Ainsley Harriott was the real identity of Imhotep V, based upon his fixation with oil.

The internet has done me proud.

Wizard was waiting for them outside on Level 4.
Okay, thanks Wizard, though even with the "warblers" I am pretty sure that some harm would have come to you by now. I am also pretty sure that the smoke and the haze pouring forth from the chamber is something of a common sight for Wizard and partly the reason he came along on this trip, so that he may hotbox some pyramids.
Hotboxing Pyramids is my new album.
"Hurry! Del Pierro's men have almost finished their crane- they'll be on Level 2 any second now!"
That piece of speech, as well as the line about Wizard being outside, made up an entire paragraph. I think that we can all agree that those two pieces of information warranted such an important break in the riveting narrative, giving us time to recover from the image of an oiled up Hugh Jackman through the haze.
Level 4

The other members of the team - Big Ears, Stretch, and Princess Zoe- were also waiting on Level 4, covering the first three traps on the way down.
So they just left Fuzzy, the wounded black guy, to die? I knew we could count on you to deliver us a nineties action movie, Matthew! It was also mighty decent of him to remind us who these characters were.
When he reached them, West handed Big Ears the priceless golden trapezoid, which the big man placed inside a sturdy backpack.
That's the team completely screwed now, it has been established that Big Ears is a retard. We're getting into slight spoilers here, but Princess Zoe would have been a better choice: she's competent. Why not Stretch, you ask? Well, therein lies the spoiler...
Down the giant rockwall they went, again in leapfrog formation, sliding down ladders, dancing across booby-trapped ledges, all the while dodging flaming waterfalls and fire-rain. Giant drop-stones now fell constantly from the upper regions of the cave, tumbling dangerously down the rockface, blasting through the smoke.
This should be an exciting image, something fun and dynamic, but he's thrown too much into too short a space, like emptying the drinks cabinet and fruit bowl into a single blender.
Level 3

West scooped up Fuzzy as they came to Level 3. "Come on, old friend," he said, hoisting the big Jamaican onto his shoulder.
It is good that Reilly has told us of their old friendship. Now we have an idea as to what these two characters want, a relationship between them. We know that West is concerned with Fuzzy's safety, which is why he left him alone when wounded, only to pick him up in his oily, Hugh Jackman arms when he found out that he was still alive and that it would thus be awkward to write Christmas cards to him. Who knows, maybe the rest of the book will explain their friendship, like how they came together during an operation, where West's lack of morality was tested by Fuzzy's devotion to a cause and an ideal and he managed to mellow out the man, or perhaps West too was an idealistic trooper, full of hope and joi de vivre, but whilst Fuzzy remained resilient and moral in the face of horror and adversity, West became broken, especially from the loss of his arm in an encounter. Fuzzy, consumed with guilt over what happened to his friend, joined him on this ridiculous expedition in an attempt to bring him back to the side of good, become his moral compass and help him to achieve enlightenment.

They ran down the sloping ledgeway, across the face of Level 3, covering their mouths to avoid inhaling the smoke.
With what? Their hands? West is hoisting a "big Jamaican" (I will not make a drug reference counter, as that would be a step too far) and his trying to navigate a narrow walkway whilst oiled up, he'll need a hand free, I'm pretty sure, and Fuzzy is going to be holding onto him, as well as trying to keep his footing and balance on this cliff face that Reilly has gone to great lengths to describe as narrow.
The Europeans had almost finished the crane by now.
Good to hear that Wizard wasn't lying.
It was lined with armed men, all waiting for the last piece of the crane to be screwed into place, thus giving them access to Level 2 - where they would cut off West and his team.
The last piece of the crane fell into place.
The Europeans moved.
Take a shot. It's yet another hastily written piece of pointlessness.
Level 2

West led the way now, leaping down onto Level 2 ahead of Fuzzy, where he landed like a cat -
- and was confronted by a crossbow wielding French paratrooper, the first member of the European force to step off the now finished crane.
So West isn't carrying his wounded friend anymore? What the hell, Hugh Jackman, I thought you were "old friends", this is how you treat them? How did you maneuver around him on that ledge and make the leap, to land like a cat, when it's narrow and you're still very much an oiled up man who has to be exhausted, whether or not you're one of the greatest soldiers in the world. Furthermore, why did the man bring a crossbow with him? Was he expecting a Warbler to be used? In which case, why did they fire with normal assault rifles, or even bring them altogether? Surely using crossbows would have been the first thing they would have done? If they weren't expecting warblers, then this trooper is just a special snowflake and wanted to be different, which means that West is doing battle with hipsters and I am thus genuinely torn. Whilst this is a battle between an elderly racist stoner and a his oiled up best friend with no morals and a group of logistically brilliant engineers and hipsters, Reilly cannot possibly make this work.
Quick as a gunslinger, West drew a Glock pistol from one of his thigh holsters, raised it and fired it at the French trooper at point-blank range.
And for some reason his bullet defied Wizard's Warblers and slammed into the Frenchman's chest, dropping him where he stood.
Take a shot for the weapon name-drop. Wizard's Warblers is my new band name. Ignoring the fact that a tired, crouching, oiled up arsehole managed to somehow draw his pistol that quickly, why wasn't it already drawn? Why haven't his friends helped out? Why hasn't the hiupster fired his crossbow?
Find out next time!