“I read a Louis L’Amour book once called Lonesome Gods,” I said, in a quiet tone as we continued walking, “He wrote that people believed that ...n the desert, there are gods that are no longer worshiped. They are lonesome now. The only reminders of them are small stone piles at the base of hills or mountains that men that walked before us put there as an homage to the god. But, as time passed, they were forgotten and they wait. They wait until that time that someone will worship them again. . He cursed as the rough rope chafed his hands, leaving red marks. He clung to his gun as he sat in the wooden transport, when a shadowed man handed him an oar. He adjusted his seating and watched the pattern of the other men. Following their rhythm, he could see the line where the water reached the sand. He was almost in Turkey. His heart pounded louder than a freight train,he gripped his gun tight as he prepared to step out to shore. The men were surprised- no enemies were to be found. One of. More

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