Patrick PhD Marcus

Little Red War Gods


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      Little Red War Gods

      The Conquering

      by

      Patrick Marcus

      Published in eBook format by eBookIt.com

       http://www.eBookIt.com

      ISBN-13: 978-1-4566-0095-2

      No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

      Acknowledgement

      Thank you to my identical twin brother Leonard and his wife Virginia for living the spiritual life they were meant to live.

      Thank you to my editor, Becca Grossman, for her brilliance and her honesty.

      Thank you to my illustrator, Kip Ayers, who took the time to read the book and captured what he felt.

      Dedication

      To my daughter Kaden and her cat Oingus. Whether your occupation is stalking lizards or playing with toys, I hope you both know you're loved.

      Navajo Indian Reservation

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      CHAPTER 1

      Dan’s eyes darted back and forth between the desert scenery of Highway 40 and the Expedition’s wood paneled glove box; the wrapped item entrusted to him was carefully nestled inside. He’d had to jam the owner’s manuals under the passenger seat to make room before he and Becka set off on the mission they’d been assigned. The eleven brothers who’d already completed their confirmations told Dan the item was essential for the mission to have the right outcome, though they’d been maddeningly cryptic about its true role.

      While he drove, Dan pulled at Becka’s flaxen hair as she leaned in his direction from the safety of her bucket seat. He thought her hair was the most beautiful shade of blonde he’d ever seen. His friends gave him shit about how much he loved her, about the pile of teddy bears and long white candles shaped like intertwined lovers he’d gifted her. Their jokes never bothered him.

      Dan was handsome. His curly black hair fell sideways across his forehead. He possessed a sharp wit and genuine interest in doing what was right. In a few months, he was supposed to attend Arizona State.

      At last week’s gathering, the brothers voted unanimously for Becka and Dan’s marriage to take place the day after graduation. Needless to say the couple was excited, and eagerly agreed to drive Dan’s dad’s Expedition from suburban Phoenix into the enormous Navajo Indian Reservation, a place they’d learned to cherish and respect over the past four years of high school. Once in the reservation, Dan and Becka would finally be allowed to travel to a sacred place the Indians called Tsa-Zhin, Black Rock. There they would be married in secret through the consummation of their love, with the blessings of Earth Mother and the Lord God. Now, after getting lost a few times, they had arrived at the most important marker later than they’d wanted. The setting sun was a thin red snake across the rock-broken image in the rear view mirror.

      “There it is,” Becka said, her voice sweet and excited as she pointed at a dramatic cactus stabbing forty feet into the air. “I guess the boys weren’t exaggerating. That’s one huge cactus…kind of creepy if you ask me.”

      “That’s just a baby cactus,” Dan laughed, emphatically tapping his crotch through his jeans like a Morse coder sending up an SOS. Becka rolled her eyes and pushed his bare knee away from her. She gestured for him to pull over. Dan couldn’t help but see in Becka’s face that her usual steely stoicism, as pointed and beautiful as an icicle, had melted, revealing the happy, innocent girl he’d first met as a freshman.

      With the headlights turned to bright, Dan’s eyes scanned the nearly concealed dirt roadway, which fell swiftly into a valley and disappeared. Dan revved the engine. Releasing the brake and pushing the gas slowly, he let the truck test the small, rough lip separating the highway from the trail. The tires gripped at hard earth and spit bits of rock through deep tread. The truck jolted forward.

      Becka giggled nervously as she, too, looked out for any dangers in the gloom.

      Dan turned off the satellite radio so he could concentrate. They drove for several miles in silence while the burnt red panorama of twilight succumbed more completely to each second’s deeper waves of darkness.

      “Do you think we’ll ever meet the Little War Gods?” Becka asked. “Do you think they even exist? And please don’t tell me it’s a matter of faith.”

      “I don’t know,” said Dan. “I only know that I love what we have become because of them.”

      Becka frowned. “That is not an answer, as sweet as it is. Just tell me what you think. Have the Little War Gods returned? Are there really identical twins somewhere in the world that will rise to power over all Navajo?”

      “You know the rumor, Becka. One of the twins is already on the reservation. He came here just before we were chosen for the Lord’s Indians by Father Matthew.”

      “Rumor? We’re doing all this for a rumor? We checked the birth registry for the year the twins were supposed to be reborn and not a single Navajo family gave birth to male identical twins. Not any that survived, anyway.”

      “Do you really think all the Navajo births are recorded accurately?”

      “What is that supposed to mean?”

      “Nothing. I’m just trying to concentrate on this would-be road,” said Dan, mildly disgruntled. “Besides, what does it matter if the twins are Navajo by birth? The Navajo of legend are not the Navajo of today. There are no more pure bloods. There are no more pure religions. Purity is conflict.”

      Becka looked at Dan thoughtfully. “Purity is conflict?” she mused. “I’m not sure if that’s necessarily true. But I suppose you aren’t necessarily wrong, either. It’s just easier to imagine that the twins who once saved the Navajo by killing all the monsters plaguing the tribe would look like Navajo today. Considering today’s ‘monsters,’ the whole thing would be a lot less ironic.”

      “I like irony. The old spirit world of the Navajo was much different than the new world of today. The evils they faced were clearly evil: indestructible, disfigured giants who murdered indiscriminately. When the Twins killed them, the world was immediately better. That is their legend.”

      Becka’s silence urged Dan to continue.

      “Our church’s purpose and the purpose of the reborn Twins are entwined. The Lord’s Indians are to be twelve couples, one for each of the clock’s hours, there to defeat the Twin’s power should Christendom fail.” Dan paused for effect, scratching his chin with a slow rake. “We are the Keepers of the Bridge,” he concluded emphatically.

      “I don’t think I ever realized until now how cryptic our fundamental faith is.” Becka was trying to sound agreeably nonchalant but realized she was only being gloomy. She tried to be positive. “How can the twins not accept Christianity when they arrive? Many of the Navajo are Christians themselves. Christianity has been a good thing—at least that’s what Matthew says. There are no obvious monsters any more. The twins couldn’t possibly see their own kind as monsters—could they?”

      “We’re getting close to Black Rock I think,” said Dan, who hoped to change the subject before Becka got too upset and jeopardized the mission.

      “Would the Little War Gods really go to war with their own kind?”

      “It is possible. You know all that crap about ‘what lurks