Gods Rising

An ancient curse invades the present! A solitary man in the desert stumbles on a creature that has lain dormant for thousands of years. Worshipping a god as old as time, he must search out others to share his deadly burden or suffer the ultimate sacrifice alone. Will those that follow him find redemption or despair and death? "Gods Rising" combines elements of horror with a provocative new answer to the forgotten wellspring of religious belief itself.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Chapter 3There is no rainy season in the desert. It can rain anytime. When conditions are right, the weather bureau puts out flash-flood warnings, so people can stay away from areas that could prove dangerous. Richard Gates had not listened to the radio that morning. He usually tuned into one of the San Bernardino news stations, but the appearance of the motorcyclists had distracted him. A mile north of the gulley where he was working, air above the desert floor rose as it gained heat from the sun. Reaching several thousand feet, it expanded, cooled, and released a vast quantity of water onto the mountain slopes below. Water gathered in trickles, and then combined into rivulets, carrying pebbles and rocks down the mountainside. Farther down the slope, it became a rushing torrent, carrying tons of debris, sand, silt, and rock into the gulley, finally rushing toward Richard Gates.The thick plastic bag bulged with trash. Richard had placed the cans, about two pounds of them, inside on top. Leaving the bag, he began walking farther along the gulley, unaware of what was bearing down on him from the north. He would retrieve the bag on the way back.He had only taken a dozen steps when something made him look at the mountain wall. The gulley was cut more deeply here. It looked like a huge chunk of the mountain had been removed recently, probably by a rainstorm. There seemed to be nothing particularly interesting about the mountain face. Something, however, had attracted his attention. Perhaps it was the slight bulge in the sandstone at eye level.Poking at it with his cane, Richard found that the object gave slightly. It had a spongy quality quite unlike sandstone, and as he inspected it more closely, he noticed that its color was somewhat darker than the surrounding area. It was three feet long and oblong, its edges disappeared into the gulley's wall.Setting his canteen and cane down, he pried at the object with both hands. It shifted slightly, but remained stuck. Richard rubbed his hands together, the way one does after touching something slimy. But he realized there was nothing on his hands except sand from the object's surface. The slimy feeling was emotional rather than physical.He didn't like the thing one bit. He felt an attraction to it he couldn't explain, particularly in light of the revulsion he felt when he touched it. Although its surface was gritty, it was not stone-like. He couldn't be sure, but it felt slightly warm. Overcoming his revulsion, he pressed at it with both hands.He flinched away with a cry. "Jesus!" He staggered away from the object, falling backwards onto the gulley floor. He was conscious of something in the gulley other than himself, something that was aware of him.He edged away from the object. He grasped his cane and struggled to get up. His hip was ablaze with pain that anchored his leg to the ground. The cool air in the gulley made him shiver. He experienced a curious mixture of emotions. Uppermost in his mind was flight, pure and simple, the animal need to get the hell out of there. An undercurrent to his thoughts kept him standing irresolutely where he was. "Touch it," his mind said, while the rest of his being told him not to. "Please," his mind begged, and he felt a terror that pushed him near collapse. The words were not his; the desire had come from outside. He dreaded touching the loathsome thing. Its spongy surface yielded several inches under the pressure of his hands. The horrible part, the part that made his stomach churn, was that he was convinced something inside pushed back."Closer," something whispered to him.Despite his fear, he took a step toward the thing, except then he heard the flood. Panic seized him. Turning away from the thing clinging to the mountain wall, he tried to get across the gulley. His hip flared white-hot pain, pouring agony through his leg. When it gave out, he collapsed to the gulley floor. His ear was against the ground, and he could hear the flood grinding across the desert. He had seen flashfloods before. He knew they were not simply water and sand. They carried rocks big enough to crush a man.The edge of the gulley was several yards away. If he could just make it there, he might avoid the worst of it."Here," something spoke to him.The single word contained a wealth of feeling: longing, desire, hunger. He began crawling toward the gulley's edge.The sound of the flood crescendoed into a roar, and he knew he would never make it. His hip wouldn't permit him to stand long enough to reach safety. Then he did the only thing he could. Twisting around on his belly until he faced the mountain, he crawled toward the thing that had caused such revulsion and fear. With a final terrified look over his shoulders, he saw the flood surging toward him.He reached up, and clung to the object, its surface yielding handholds as his fingers clutched at it.

About the Author

Glen Egbert’s first novel, "Gods Rising" is a tale of psychological horror. His writing history includes the short stories "World Spider" in Fantasy Macabre, "Niche" in All The Devils Are Here, and "Red Rover" in When The Black Lotus Blooms. He has also written several animated cartoon scripts for Inspector Gadget and The Smurfs. Currently, he is working on his second novel, "Bloodgod."

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