Chapter 8: More Warriors & the Battle Begins…

“Sheriff, we have a report of a fire out at Johnson’s farm.”

“What in tarnation is going on? That’s the third fire tonight!”

“Uhmmm… Sheriff… I have another report.”

“WHAT?”

“It’s the Atwells…”

“Call for backup… Have dispatch ring all surrounding counties… We’re gonna run out of water at this pace.”

“Sheriff, the first was at Menkins, the second was at old man Skavins…”

“Yeah, so?”

“Then the Johnson’s, then Atwell's…”

“Oh yeah… I see what you’re getting at… Radio the other units have them meet at…”

“Junction of 291 and 18?”

“Yep! Inform the other units we have serial firebugs on our hands… Probably some punk kids all hopped up on dope!"

“Probably on motorcycles… Damn firebugs… You can see the glow from Johnson’s house… I might just shoot first and ask questions later… No, ma’am, you have to go around… I got an extra pair of cuffs in the trunk; think I should go get them...? Do you hear something…?”

All the voices quieted as the Elder God lumbered out of the woods, snapping off an eighty year old oak.

“What the hell…? What is that…? Too big to be a bear… Did the fire scare it…?”

The Elder God turned at the noises and the flashing lights. It could smell the shock and confusion. And building fear. It turned and started for it’s next meal.

“HALT! HALT! What the hell?”

Someone opened fire, weather out of shock or fear or as a warning would never be known. The bullet had no effect. The Elder God waded into the circle of cars and tendrils shot out. Bullets were fired. Blood flowed. Officers screamed. Officers died. Trooper Van Eric, in the back of the pack, emptied his .20 gauge shotgun, then his service pistol. He saw body parts flying through the air. With a look of shock, he hopped into his patrol car, threw it into reverse and stomped the gas. Looking over his shoulder, he headed up Rt.18, backwards, rapidly leaving the carnage behind. He heard the windshield of the car shatter and never turned around. After 2 miles at almost 70 miles an hour, in reverse, he came close to wiping out and flipping the patrol car. Slamming on the brakes, he guided the car to a stop, in the middle of the road. He dropped his head to the steering wheel and threw up all over himself. When the retching finally stopped, he lifted his head and looked out over the front of the car. Then he tried to throw up the nothing that was left in his stomach… The windshield of the patrol car was covered in blood and a broken off tendril was twitching, stuck in the windshield, right where his head would have been.  Then he tried to throw up again as he realized how close he had come to being one of the officers he had left behind.

In Bangalore, India, Manish Nandin had just finished practicing Kalaripayit. He threw the towel around his neck and started off the practice mat. He felt light-headed for a second, but trusting to his balance and martial arts abilities, took a few more steps. He stumbled, as the lights seemed to dim. The brown belt, Kunit, caught his arm and asked if he was OK. “Just a bit winded is all,” Manish replied. Shaking his head to clear the cobwebs, he took another step and collapsed to the mat. Kunit and the others gathered around as Manish started twitching. Then blood seemed to flow out the sides on his gi.

“Heart attack”, someone mumbled. “But the bleeding”, someone else replied. “Mouth to mouth. Does any one know mouth to mouth”, another asked. The tremors increased in strength. A scream escaped Manish’s clenched lips and his back arched until only the tips of his toes and the top of his head were touching the mat.

“He’s turning blue.” “He’s gonna die.” “That’s so gross!” The sides of Manish’s gi started to push outward. His whole body was now a dark, navy blue, fainter near his feet but steadily darkening. With a rip, the sides of the gi gave out and an arm appeared. Then another. Then the other side of the gi ripped. Arms started showing on the other side of his body. Everyone had backed up to the sides of the dojo and were staring in awe and fear at the transformation taking place. The new arms ripped the shreds of the gi from the body, revealing that Manish now had three extra arms per side. The body slowly lowered, like the air going out of a beach ball, until it rested on the mat.

An arm was lifted up in front of the face to be examined. Then another. The being that was Manish rose to a sitting position. Then it stood and looked around the room. “Shiva. It’s Shiva. Shiva has taken Manish. It’s Shiva. He’s ten feet tall!”

A voice like rolling thunder came from the being’s mouth: “I AM SHIVA.” Every one cringed. “MY ENEMY SHALL KNOW ENDLESS FEAR, FOR I WALK THE EARTH AGAIN.” The being known as Shiva looked at one of his left hands and a glowing sword appeared. Then another. Then a sword appeared in a hand on the right side. Then another. Soon every hand held a sword. “I WILL FIND BRAHMA. THEN OUR ANCIENT ENEMY WILL BE QUIETED, AT LAST.” Shiva turned a circle, looking, as if through the walls. Then he turned another circle, slower. The all the swords snapped to point in the same direction and Shiva started walking in that direction. The three students in his way dived to the side, as Shiva walked through the wall in search of the avatar of Brahma.

“This is Fort Dix… Anyone read me… Anyone there… Come in Earth… This is Fort Dix…”

“Oh, my God! Someone’s reporting! Get the general! Tell him we’ve made contact with Fort Dix!” “Fort Dix, This is Earth! Please report! What’s the sitrep up there?”

“Uhhh… What’s a sitarep, Earth?”

“Soldier! This is no time for jokes! Now give me the situation now!”

“Umm… I’m not a soldier… They’re all dead, it looks like… My dad told me to stay away from here…”

“Tell the general I have a kid, possible a teenager, reporting in from Fort Dix. Get confirmation on the signal for me, to be sure this isn’t a bogus report.” “Son… What’s your name? Let’s start there.”

“Earth, my name is Parcell Davids. I came here after I saw all the explosions, even though my father told me not to. Am I gonna get in trouble.”

“No, son, I’ll see to it that you don’t get in any trouble. Can you see a button near you that say ‘Emergency Comm System?”

“Uhnn… Uhnn… I see… No… I see it! Emer Comm Syst! Is that right?”

“Sure is, son! Could you lift the cover for me and fully depress the red button underneath.”

“I’m not gonna get in trouble, am I? My fathers still pissed about me taking the buggy last week…”

“Son, I promise you that you won’t get in trouble. All that button will do is allow us here back on Earth to control the audio/video system up there. We’ll be able to access the backup recording and see what happened up there. Now, if you could push the button, please…”

“Major, I have confirmation on the signal. It’s valid.”

“I’ll tell you what happened! A damn, big Martian came up out of the hydrogen mines and killed all the soldiers is what happened!”

“Son, are you sure there are no soldiers around you, maybe stunned or unconscious? And could you push the button for me?”
“No, I’m pretty sure they’re all dead. The forcefield that keeps the sand out is down, too. By the time you get here, this whole place will be covered up.”

“The sand-field is down? Are you sure? Could you push the red button for me? The one under the cover plate.”

“I know which button… I’m gonna push it… Then I’m gonna run… And my name isn’t what I said before… It’s… It’s something else…”

“I don’t care what your damn name is, son! Push the damn button then run home to your mommy for all I care!” The auxiliary control panels came to life and the video screens above them started to glow. The image revealed a teenage boy fleeing from the control room, his shirt up over his face. “Now we’re getting somewhere! Tell the general…”

“Tell me yourself, Major. I’m right here.”

“Sir. We have control of Mars Fort Dix Comm system, sir.”

“Good work, Major. Download everything you can. I want to find out what the hell happened up there.”

The Sphinx had flow for about an hour in the direction of the Enemy. It didn’t it know (or care) that it was crossing into Libyan airspace. A flight of five Mig-200’s rose up out of the airport at Tarabulus (Tripoli) and proceeded to intercept the unidentified radar contact. Radio contact was tried and ignored. Then a near fly-by was tried. This too was ignored. The order to use machine guns was given. Vice-Colonel Mustaf Alli was in the lead plane and drew the honor of scoring first blood. Vice-Colonel Alli had reported that they were going to be attacking a giant, flying, golden cat type-of-beast. The commanders at base had scoffed at his reports and ordered him to attack anyway. Mustaf tried locking the automated targeting-systems on the target, but they refused to co-operate. “I’ll guess I have to do it manually, like my grandfather talked about, so long ago.” Mustaf came around for another pass, and centered the scope on the target and pulled the trigger. The tracers lid under the target and he corrected. Perfect hit! Right in the target’s ‘stomach’.

The Sphinx didn’t know why these fleas where bothering it when the Enemy had returned. It tried to ignore them until one had stung it’s belly. He turned his head and waited for the flea to make another pass. Just when the flea settled into it’s attack position, the Sphinx folded his wings and dove for the sea. The flea followed. Opening his large wings, the Sphinx braked his fall and turned to face his attacker. Opening his mouth, the Sphinx shot liquid fire out, directly into the path of the flea. The flea exploded with a fury that stunned the Eternal Protector. Pulling hard with his great wings, the Sphinx noticed that the rest of the attackers seemed to be circling from a distance. One of the attackers changed formation and came for the Sphinx. Two smaller fleas dropped from it's belly and came on at a greater speed. The eyes of the Sphinx glowed, and a beam brighter than Atum-Re’s sun shot out, destroying the lesser fleas and continuing into the mother flea. The rest of the attackers pulled back even farther. The Sphinx didn’t notice the ignition of ground-to-air rockets in the coastal desert below. Keeping a wary eye on the fleas, and trying to make up time. The Sphinx was caught unaware by the first detonation.  The second and third explosions were even closer. The forth struck him on the right shoulder. The wings of the Sphinx folded and he fell from the sky toward the Mediterranean Sea below.

Mighty Thor walked out of the cave in Norway and surveyed Midgard for the first time in eons. He heard the sound of passing cars and looking up saw a jet plane overhead. “Much has changed since I last stepped foot on Midgard. Still, I am the maker of the Lightning and the bringer of the Thunder.” Kneeling to the ground, Thor tapped the handle of Mjollnir on the ground, twice. Soon, his chariot, pulled by Tanngrisni and Tanngnost, would arrive. Then the Enemy would be dealt with. For the last time.

In the Pacific Northwest, deep in the forests of the Columbia Mountains, Arbororth the Sasquatch raised his head, as if sniffing the air. The Evil-one has returned. As his father and his father’s father before him had said it would.  Arbororth raised his head and howled. The human hunter two miles away swore later that it sounded like the howl of a wolf caught in a leg-trap. The howl drew the attention of others of Arbororth’s kind. Together, they started running. Running toward the Evil-one. Openly running, for, while taunting the humans may prove amusing at times, this was the reason they had stayed hidden all this time. Hidden and honing their fighting skills.

“Now what are we gonna do?”

“I don’t know.”

"Do you want me to start walking? I can get someone to help us.”

“Won’t do any good. I don’t have any more money. I spent the last on gas in Joplin.”

“I don’t believe this! I don’t believe you! I just wanna go home!”

“The Great Spirit will provide.”

“Screw your Great Spirit! Screw everything! I just wanna go the hell home!”

“What seems to be the problem, today?”

“Officer! You startled me! We unhh… We unnn… Ran out of gas.”

“Well, let’s just see what we have here… An old, beaten down car driven by an old beaten down Injun.”

“Don’t call my uncle that!”

“Watch yer mouth, sonny! We don’t take to Injuns traveling through our town. Now, I’m gonna call you a tow truck. You’re going to fill up the tank, then you’re going straight back the way you came.”

Quietly, “We can’t do that, officer.”

“What’d you say, Injun?”

“I said ‘We can’t do that, officer’.”

“Can’t? Or won’t?”

“Can’t."

“Why the hell not? You wanna spend the night in a cold cell?”

“No, officer. The Great Spirit has directed us…”

“Get the hell outta the car, Injun.” Grabbing Standing Wolf by the arm, the officer yanked him out the door and spun him around, slamming him up against the car. Twisting Standing Wolf’s arm up behind his back, the officer asked, ”Just what the hell DO you think you’re gonna do, Injun?”

“UHNN… The Great Spirit has…UHNN!”

“LEAVE MY UNCLE ALONE!”

“Get back in the car, sonny! I’m gonna teach your old uncle a lesson.” Grabbing Standing Wolf by the collar and using his arm-lock, the officer dragged him the around the back of the car, and threw him into the weeds beside the road. When Standing Wolf rolled to a stop, and rose up to his hands and knees, the officer kicked him in the stomach. Standing Wolf let out a huge ‘WHUMPF’ and fell over on his side, holding his stomach. The Officer bent over and grasped Standing Wolf by the neck, to pick him up, so that he could knock him down again. With a dull THUNK against the back of the officer’s head, the tire-iron swung by Peter Walkingsparrow took the racist fire from the officer’s eyes. The officer dropped to his knees and Peter hit him again, knocking his cap off into the weeds. The officer fell, unfeeling, face-first into the gravel.

“C’MON UNCLE! We have to get out of here! Get up!”

“I think he took the life out of me, Peter. I’m going to the Dreaming Lands, now.”

“No, you aren’t, you old bastard! Now, get up, and get in the car!” Peter got his arm under Standing Wolf and helped him to his feet, then over to the open side door of the station wagon. After getting Standing Wolf in the car and shutting the door, Peter ran around to the drivers seat and hopped in. And looked at the gas gauge. “DAMN!” DAMMIT! God Damn you, old man! What am I gonna do… The cop car! I’ll take the cop car… NO! No, Dammit! They’d catch me in a second… The woods. The woods are our only chance. C’mon, uncle, we gotta make a run for it.”

“You run without me, Peter. I will ask the Great Spirit to watch over you from the Dreaming Lands.”

“No, you got me into this mess, you’re coming with me!” After putting his backpack on, Peter got getting Standing Wolf back out of the car and put his pack on him. Peter then took the officer’s pistol from it’s holster and put it down the front of his pants. “This might come in handy in the woods.” Going back to where Standing Wolf is leaning against the station wagon, Peter got under the old mans arm and together, they start hobbling toward the Missouri woods, underneath the setting sun.

After hobbling into the darkening woods for only half an hour, exhaustion had nearly overtaken Peter. Standing Wolf was almost unconscious, and increasingly, Peter had to lift almost all of his uncle’s weight to get him to take another step. The path hadn’t been too bad at first, having seen plenty of use from rabbits and raccoons, but now the trees were getting thicker and the sky was getting darker, making it harder to find good footing. Peter stumbled between two branches that swept over the disintegrating path into a small clearing. Leaning against a tree, he let his uncle slide to the ground, exhausted.

Standing with his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath, Peter’s head snapped around at the sound of sirens. Grabbing at his uncle, Peter tried to see the best way into the darkness ahead. With a puzzled expression on his face, Peter searched frantically in the direction that the path had been taking. The path seemed to come to an abrupt end, as if a giant had dropped a boulder directly in front of him. A mini-cliff stood in his way, stretching into the darkness on either side.

“Damn! There’s no way I’m gonna get over that. Not carrying you.” Leaving his uncle, Peter climbed onto the fallen rock at the base of the cliff and looked up. “If I had some rope, I could climb up there and pull you up.” Standing halfway up the pile of fallen rock, trying to decide what to do, Peter was startled into action by the barking of dogs. Search dogs. Dashing off the rocks, Peter grabbed Standing Wolf under the armpits, and pulled him toward the wall, walking backwards. Slowly, too slowly, he started inching his way up the slope toward the cliff. He had only made it to the top of the fallen rocks when the first of the dogs burst into the clearing. Giving a last yank on his uncle, Peter stepped back… Into nothingness! There was a sensation of falling, and then the world went black.

Continued in War of the Blood Gods #8