Category Archives: thriller

The Stargirls Death Defying leap into the Unknown

Chapter 11

DESTINY UNFOLDED as Jill turned sharply off the snaking two-lane
highway onto a side road. The 37-inch hard rubber tires spit sand and flint
into the sweltering desert air that blasted them up rocky terrain. Jill
wondered why she chose the unmarked trail as they flew over a rock-strewn ridge scattered with cholla, prickly pear cactus, and yucca trees.
She glanced at Lyn. “I think the old battle-axe is doing an Irish jig, or
maybe the Charleston.” The high energy of the Carolina Africans danced
into her awareness, how they expressed hope for freedom in their inspired
music and boogie. Despite slavery and poverty, their spirits sprang from
their feet. She thought, whoever danced the Charleston, Lindy Hop, jive, or
jitterbug understood their talent, courage, and inspiration.
Her nostalgic thoughts interrupted by a cloud of dust. A flight of
animals headed their way—wild burros, pronghorn antelope, gray foxes,
and wolves—all madly fleeing something. She gunned the battle-axe
behind a rock formation as the thunderous stampede rushed past them,
shaking the ground. The Stargirls stared out the windows, wondering
what was happening.
Jill backed up as the dust settled and punched the gas pedal, seeking
higher ground for a better view. The Stargirls sat silent, then exploded
into a tower of babble.
Jill shrieked, “Quiet—does anyone have a clue?” Ali hollered,
“Earthquake,” even before the earth rumbled. “Drive like hell—or it’s
going to bury us,” she yelled as sand buckled and a gigantic crack opened
in the desert floor. Wheels spun and the battle-axe plowed through
collapsing sand as a cavernous mouth opened.
Jill gasped. “Oh my God—“as the sand pitched upward, darkening
the horizon as a ferocious tsunami of sand towered over them.
“Hurry, we’re being sucked back into the fissure,” Jill screamed, as
the deafening sound of moving earth terrified them. The battle-axe barely
crested the monstrous wave. Brakes shrieked and they spun ‘round and
‘round as a massive boulder crashed down from the sky, narrowly missing
them as the Earth heaved and convulsed.
Jill struggled to control the battle-axe but lost its center of gravity. It
flipped fiercely onto its side and sparks flew. Dazed, she dangled from her
seat belt while they slid toward an abyss. Lyn, pinned to the passenger’s
door, crossed her arms in front of her face thinking, God help us. Moments later, the battle-axe jarred to a halt. Lyn noticed Jill
hanging above her. “Hold on, Sis,” she said while she pressed Jill’s seat
belt release—but nothing happened. She yanked her Ka-Bar knife from its
sheath and cut Jill free, causing the battle-axe to pitch terrifyingly forward.
Choking dust was everywhere, creating a ghostly night. They were
thankful the battle-axe shielded them from the suffocating cloud of sand.
Ali’s voice quivered, “Magnitude-9 Killer Earthquake, anyone hurt?”
“Only my damn foolish pride,” Jill said, as she crawled and sat
between the front and rear compartments. Lyn turned; her shifting weight
caused the battle-axe to pitch forward.
She screamed, “We’re hanging over a precipice by a thread; hit the
rear cargo area.” Sade and Mad threw themselves back against the cargo
area as Jill crawled in back. Ali jerked hard on the door release, but the
door would not budge.
“It’s jammed.” She shoved hard against the door with no effect. “I
need help.” The battle-axe tilted toward the abyss. Jill leaped on the cargo
area, forcing the battle-axe to stabilize. Mad grasped the rear seat and
pulled herself up, yelling, “Ali, jerk the handle with all you’ve got.” Mad
then smashed the door with her shoulder and it flew open. She quickly
climbed out. “Grab my hand.” She pulled them to safety; they hit the
ground running to the rear of the battle-axe.
Jill shouted, “Hold on, if we lose her we’re dead.” Once they
regained control, they spun the battle-axe away from the chasm and
rocked it upright with a thud.
Ali yelled, “Stargirls rule.”
Jill shook her head—at her plucky spirit—and said, “Let’s go home.”
Lyn climbed in. “The roof rack is intact and no fuel spills, but her
right side looks like hell. She’s a tough lady.”
“Little cosmetics, she’ll be good as new.” Jill glanced back at the
others, and said, “Stargirls do rule.”
“We—bad, bad to the bone,” Mad ranted. Jill pumped the gas and
turned the key; a spark of life crossed the barrier of the dead and the
battle-axe’s heart roared back to life. Lyn imagined a lone wolf’s howl. She
then felt strange, something about escape—but from what.
They rumbled back down the fractured trail where they ran into a
sphinxlike looking formation. Ali thought, So much for preparation. An
enormous mesa loomed before them, with talus slopes and sheer rock
around its rim. A rock face jutted from its base, creating a massive
entrance.
At the sight of the haunting mesa, Sade, in a faraway voice, said,
“Ancients once lived here; they left a doorway. . .”
Mad interrupted, “Just what we need—ghosts.”
Ali’s eyes flashed at the notion as she smiled crookedly, “Let’s take a
peek at what calls us.” She entered warily and found flowstones
resembling spattered paint on the cave floor. The walls sparkled while
translucent mineral deposits hung as curtains from the cave’s ceiling.
Beyond its visual beauty, its geological history was priceless, she thought.
Carlsbad had tens of thousands of explored caverns, but nothing like this.
Faint smoke rose from the backside of the cave, suggesting volcanic
activity. Ali knew earthquake activity increased before a volcanic
eruption—but usually a two- or three-magnitude earthquakes, not the
super quake they survived. She announced, “A Rio Grande rift
earthquake, any questions?”
Jill, awed by Ali’s quick analysis, said, “You’re right the surface
rupture must have caused the cavern entrance. Are you sure Mt. St.
Helen’s isn’t far behind?”
“I’d bet my MIT diploma on it. Let’s see what this mystery lady is
hiding.” Jill stared at Ali, who had just turned 31. She was always there
when she needed her like the Rock of Gibraltar—fearless to a fault, but
never wrong when it came to geology. She was the quiet one out of the
group. Yet when she spoke, everyone’s ears perked up. She was a free-spirited adventurer who lived a self-styled life, carving out her own path.
Jill nicknamed her “Earth Mother,” because of her love for the Earth
and a heart bigger than her body; she seemed to have risen from
primordial clay. Her long hair burst with fertile earth colors that graced
her rainbow blue eyes, campfire cheeks, and Grecian nose. She radiated an
earthy wholesomeness that made Jill envious, nevertheless grateful for
such a unique sister. She felt her twinge of envy broken by Ali’s excited
voice.
“Over here,” she had heard wind blowing up through a pile of rocks
and carefully removed the rubble and found a huge crack in the ground.
“It’s the mouth of a volcano!”
Jill gazed at the magma chamber and said, “Wonder how deep she
is.” She used a sonar device to measure its depth at 1,200 feet. She
whistled and said, “We hit solid gold; this baby is millions of years old and
vertical. Grab the caving gear and provisions.” She paused. “Let’s name
her Astrum Matris, Star Mother—I feel we’re her children and she calls us
home. Wacky thought, huh?”
Ali shook her head. “No, Volcanic Mama, we’ll follow you to hell and
back.” Jill smiled at her open affection.
Sade yelled, “I got a feeling—bring the diving gear.”
“No problem,” Mad said. “I’ll lower it down before we descend.”
Sade bear hugged her. “Thanks.” Mad beamed as they unloaded cave
equipment and rope-climbing systems for their descent and return. She
planned to use their descent anchors as protection for their climb back.
She anchored and rigged 1,300 feet of rope, to lower supplies down and
for their rappel. She contemplated the risks, while lowering the gear,
remembering how it all began.
She was four, looking at cave pictures of gypsum hairs and beards,
soda straws, and cave pearls. The names made her giggle. She had cried,
“I want to be a caveman, too.” Her dad had laughed.
“Honey, you can be anything you want.” He took her hand and did a
caveman dance, making silly caveman noises that Mad imitated “. . . ooh .
. . aw . . . ooh . . . aw . . . ugh . . . ugh . . . ugh. See, you are a cave girl.”
Funny, she thought, how some things you never forget.
Ali’s brave heart gave Mad inspiration for their treacherous descent.
Ali was a heart transplant survivor with enough courage in her little pinky
for them all. Mad shouted, “The gears at the bottom—time to have some
fun.”
Reality poured through their fingers like water, growing more
uncertain as they prepared to descend into the heart of the Earth where
perceptions of what was real or possible blurred with otherworldly
thoughts.
Jill muttered, “I forgot my keys—I’ll go get them.”
Ali’s voice raised an octave. “Have you lost your mind? We survived
a slayer-quake, and you’re worried about keys.”
“It’s stupid, but someone might steal her.”
“More likely, we’ll be picked up by aliens.”
Mad laughed. “Now, I’ve heard everything.”
Jill moaned, “Right, Freud would have a ball analyzing my anal
character. Guess I’ll toss control to the wind.”
“Now you’re talking.” Ali squealed.
“This freaky journey must be about finding ourselves.”
“Jill, you’re on fire.” Sade yelled.
Mad snickered, “Now that we’re over the warm fuzzes, everybody
got their brain buckets?” She double-checked the anchors and pulled hard
on a second rope needed to lower her down to the main rappel rope.
“Hey, nitwits, don’t break your eggheads or precious butts on the way
down. Did I say nitwits or misfits?” She chuckled and crawled off the lip
of the volcano and vanished into the darkness, using her hands to guide
her. Her helmet lights cast eerie shadows on the volcano’s wall while its
raw beauty dominated her thoughts. She heard nervous laughter above
her. Twenty minutes later, she radioed, “Rocket Woman has landed. Now,
get your priceless butts down here in one piece,” and tittered.
Ali half-smiled as the volcano swallowed her, she looked at the thin
white rope dangling below her and the dim firefly flickers of Mad’s helmet
light in the endless sea of gloom. Inching down, she reflected on her
single life. She was an alumnus of Stanford. Earthquakes and men
fascinated and terrified her. Cataclysmic earthquakes were recurrent
visitors in her dreams. Other than a man-made extinction event, severe
earthquakes and volcanism posed the greatest threat to human survival—
the reasons she chose to predict them.
Ali felt drag on her rope, snapping her back to present danger, while
something curious grabbed her attention. She adjusted her headlamp.
What she saw was baffling. The volcano’s wall was ship rock, known only
to the Valle Grande cavern in northern New Mexico. She descended,
touching cold ropey pahoehoe lava, realizing she entered the volcano’s
sacred ground when her feet struck ground. She landed hard on her butt
with a grunt. Mad helped her to her feet and off the rappel line.
Once they had all assembled, Jill checked her wristband monitor.
“No sign of toxic gases, only it stinks of sulfur.” The rotten egg smell
made Lyn retch. Jill continued, “The concentration is five ppm, enough to
cause nose and throat dryness but nothing to worry about.”
Mad made a face and muttered, “Enough to gag a maggot.”
What surrounded them was hard to describe in the uncanny glow of
their headlamps—let alone the magnitude of the wall they had conquered
in the murky darkness. Looking up as far as they could see the craggy wall
sent chills through them.
Mad giggled and said, “Looks like Skull Mountain; hope King Kong
isn’t lurking in the shadows.” They stood silent, knowing she was serious.
Gooseflesh made Ali turn on a high-intensity cave light to banish the
imagined Kong, yet she felt in her heart that they could not scare away the
real monster that waited for them. Her light turned the subterranean night
into hazy daylight, revealing an adjoining lava tube laden with helictite
spiral projections that formed a Gothic-like ceiling. At its center was a
white alabaster rose chandelier bordered by stalactites and stalagmites of
various colors and dimensions. They created a natural bouquet of color.
Ali blew the elegant white rose a kiss while her sharp eyes danced
across the cave’s floor, inlaid in ancient flowstone. She froze, her gaze
arrested by a strange pool of water.
“Wow! Hey, look at this.” The Stargirls turned from the enormous
wall that captivated their imaginations and stared at the pool of water.
Ali’s cave light, created a star-studded reflection that gripped them.
Ali broke the pool’s spell. “I’m starved. Let’s chow down.”
Jill growled. “I could eat a buffalo.” No one argued. They had had
enough adventure for one day. Mad did a quick security check of the area
and was satisfied there was no love-struck ape roaming about, only chilled
darkness and putrid sulfur air. After they had eaten and bedded down, Jill
asked what they were all wondering. “What do you think brought us here?
Why are we risking our lives? ”
Mad said, “I have a hunch, but not a clue.”
Ali said, “Count me clueless, too.”
Lyn said, “Can’t shake the feeling it’s about life and death.”
Sade said, “It’s on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t put my finger on
it.”
Jill replied, “Yeah, nothing clicks.”
Sade said, “Okay, we have no idea, but I do know one thing.” She
pointed to the pool of water. “We have to accept that there are risks.”
Mad answered, “Sade, I hope you don’t mean what I think you
mean.”
“Sorry, but our destiny lies beneath that perilous water. Anybody
have a better idea?” Jill looked at Ali, who looked at Lyn, who looked at
Mad. “No.”
Sade said, “Guess I drew the short straw; we dive in the morning.”
Mad bit her nails, staring at what looked like a watery grave.
Sade noticed Mad’s forlorn look and put her hand on her shoulder.
“Don’t worry, little sister, I brought your Water Wings,” and gave Mad a
hug. “Whatever happens, we’ll face it together.”
Jill rolled over, wrapping a space blanket around her, trying to get
comfortable. Her rocky flowstone bed parked next to some dogtooth spar
that Ali’s cavern lamp brought to life. Shadow and light made the
dogtooth grin at her, a bashful, crystalline smile.
“Woof, woof to you, too, old pal.” Sleepiness claimed her, and her
fantasy dog fell asleep by her side while she snored from fatigue. It
reminded Lyn of Mozart’s opera, The Magic Flute, but playing in the
netherworld. Jill’s operatic snoring kept her awake until she dreamed of
Tamino and Pamina, giving thanks to the gods for their everlasting love.
The beautiful operatic inspiration was on her mind when she awoke
to an annoying rattle, as small stones clattered down around her. She
heard Jill cry, “What the hell?”
Ali coolly said, “Mother Nature’s wakeup call—only an aftershock.”
Jill was admiring her unruffled response when Mad let out a farcical
Tarzan cry, and Sade beat her chest, making chimp noises. They could not
resist Mad’s jungle insanity and joined in with a chorus of hyena and
elephant sounds.
“It sounds like a damn zoo down here,” Mad bellowed, sending
them into fits of laughter. Slowly their laughter faded, having served its
purpose, relieving pent-up tensions that helped clear their heads. They
took an inventory of their equipment and supplies, ate some fruit, and
debated their next move while shaking bone-cold stiffness from their
limbs.
Sade and Mad smiled, overhearing Lyn loudly protesting, “No, no,
no, a thousand times no.”
Jill shot back, “Lyn, for God’s sake, you’re a scientist. Why are you
so emotional? I have more diving experience.”
Ali jumped into the fray. “Lyn, face it, Jill’s getting senile, so let the
poor dear have her way.” They looked at each other and burst into
laughter.
Jill shook her head, “You rascals.” She looked at her two dirty-faced
sisters, smiling back at her. Their grimy faces reminded her of how they
played in mud puddles as children and how far they had come. How they
had grown into strong women. She felt pride well up inside her. These
were her sisters until the day she died. Their quirks, mischievousness,
brilliance, and bantering were what endeared them to her. Her strong
motherly reaction surprised her.
Nevertheless, the image of a mother hen watching over baby chicks
pleased her. Maybe she wanted to be a mother in spite of her reservations;
this consideration made her beam.
She won the fight, knowing they let her have her way. Guiltily, she
thought I am the biggest brat of all. Brat or not, she took the tail position in
their cave dive. No one was going to drown on her watch. She would
cover their backs. End of discussion.
Ali yelled, “Hey, mule-head.”
Jill stopped what she was doing and said, “What?” Ali and Lyn
hooted.
“How did you know I was talking to you?” Jill blushed at Ali’s
taunting question and her unintended admission of stubbornness.
“You Alpha brats,” she said, and stuck her tongue out at them. She
looked askance at Sade. “You, my little mermaid, show us the way.”
“Okay, check your equipment while I complete my safety checks.”
She reviewed the safety rules, knowing wild cave diving was dangerous.
Most divers lost their lives, because they ran out of oxygen. I will be damned
if I let that happen. Sade was a diver’s diver. Mad teased that she had grown
gills from spending so much time underwater. She was a technical diver
and knew the loss of light and oxygen was catastrophic. No matter what,
she would keep sufficient breathing- gas volume for their safe return.
They were all cave divers, but what they were attempting would test their
limits. They were entering an unknown underwater cave system where
anything could go wrong.
She made a dive plan that took into account their equipment,
unexpected contingencies and the environment. They would use a single
cylinder scuba backpack, which weighed less than 25 pounds and held two
hours of air. She planned 40-minute dive and would return to make
adjustments for a longer dive, if necessary.
Sade finished setting up a safety guideline and completed her own
equipment check. She then reviewed vital hand signals that would guide
them if trouble arose. She felt confident that they would reach their
objective, yet she wished she knew what it was. It was a leap of faith to find something—but what. Deep down they all felt the same conflict—
flight or fight.
Fear oozed from the pores of their skin in the stark chill of the
cavern, begging them to turn back, while a power beyond them drove
them on to face a nameless peril.
Sade pulled her hair back, put her dive mask on, and then gave an
order. “Check your guide line and your tank manifold pressure.”
Each Stargirl called out, as instructed.
“Ali cried out okay!”
“Lyn cried out okay!”
“Mad cried out okay!”
“Jill cried out okay!”
Sade took the lead position. One by one, they disappeared into the
mysterious water. Shadows from their dive lights danced on the white
alabaster rose until the only sign of life was the hushed sound of air
bubbles escaping in the cavern’s spectral twilight.

DEATH

I have struggled with the meaning of death in my life. Is Death Good or Bad?

 

Thanks Giving

Time to thank all my friends, family, and fans for your interest in my writing and support. I deeply appreciate all of you.

LOVE and PEACE

Linden Morningstar

The Physics of Consciousness: THE QUANTUM MIND AND THE HEALING OF LIFE

I highly recommend this groundbreaking book, the physics of CONSCIOUSNESS about the Quantum Mind that ancient shamans knew intuitively and utilized for healing.

https://www.amazon.com/Physics-Consciousness-Quantum-Mind-Meaning/dp/0738204366/ref=sr_1_1_twi_pap_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1505066354&sr=1-1&keywords=evan+harris+walker

 

Example of Gloria B’s authentic automatic handwriting

Quote from Gloria Rising (The Wounded Child, pages 3-4).

“Interestingly, her automatic handwriting was like chicken scratch because her hand flew across the page while writing in trance. Similarly, intense fears and mental pressure would sometimes cause her writing to become almost illegible. At one point, she actually switched from a medium to a fine point pen, so I might better understand her writing. She often used em-dashes instead of punctuation to avoid impeding the flow of her traumatic memories, thoughts, and emotions. I chose not to edit her automatic writing for style, grammar, or punctuation so you could fully appreciate the raw and graphic power of her written word.

Moreover, the task of typing her handwritten letters was, at times, perplexing and taxing for me. Occasionally, I would painstakingly stare at a word or phrase with a magnifying glass for long periods of time as if Sherlock Holmes looking for a cryptic clue, before I could decipher its meaning from the blur of misshapen letters. Nevertheless, I vowed to transcribe her automatic writings precisely to reveal the depth of terror and agony she suffered and her epic struggle to heal and become whole.”

Dr. Adam Jaxon

Example of Gloria B’s authentic automatic handwriting (The Wounded Child, page 5).

Click for larger image

 

 

The Mystery of Life and Death Deepens

As you may know, my two novels Gloria Rising and The Starlight Prophecy explore in different ways  the mysteries of life and the mysterious connections between the mind, universe, and the mystical. Gloria Rising through the revealing mirror of the paranormal and The Starlight Prophecy through fantasy and science fiction. Both in their own ways seek Ultimate Truth.

Therefore, it gives me great pleasure to share the thoughts of another Truth seeker Graham Hancock. For those of you who are unfamiliar with his name here is a pithy biography.

GRAHAM HANCOCK has become recognized as an unconventional thinker who raises controversial questions about humanity’s past and has written major international bestsellers The Sign and The Seal, Fingerprints of the Gods, and Heaven’s Mirror.

What I like about Hancock is that he challenges orthodox archaeological and mythical history with extraordinary theories of a vanished early civilization destroyed by a cataclysm based on his meticulous research of sacred sites around the globe in order to prove we are the benefactors of an unknown and forgotten civilization, and inheritors of its archaic wisdom.

Below is a recent post by Graham Hancock on his Facebook page that was thought provoking if not earth-shattering. A profound scientific glimpse into deeper reality and Truth about the twilight zone between life and death.

Graham Hancock posted, “Mystery upon mystery. We don’t understand what life is. We don’t understand what death is. We don’t understand what consciousness is. We’re well informed on trivia and minutiae but when it comes to fundamentals, do we really know anything at all?”

http://www.independent.co.uk/…/what-happens-die-brain-activ…
The source paper: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/28231862

 

 

 

A MIRACLE: Knock, Knock, Knocking on Heaven’s Door

 

Gloria experiences Cosmic Consciousness and direct experience of the Divine-Soul Union,  and the boundless grander and infinity of blissful Spirit and Love. Oneness of God.

AUTOMATIC LETTER 200

Sunday night

Hi again,

Wish I could put myself into a trance the way you put me. The psychic way you project fills me with such hope that I recognize myself zipping along on a high that only the most confident, trusting patient can feel. Guess the degree of our success will depend on some factors we can’t control like the silly dream I had tonight.

Tonight in my dream, I left my body and was up in the stars – light but it wasn’t light. Brighter than light, but no glare no heat from it. Out of it spelled LOVE, not the fake broken syllable but LOVE that IS! Like no love, I’ve ever imagined and LOVE IS ALL: THAT MATTERS! Words but they weren’t words or even ideas. Has this ever happened to you? I mean an oneness with life, with nature and a universe so beautiful, a love so powerful it made me want to beg it to stop, and it made me sad and want to cry. Why did it happen? Can you imagine a joy so much you can’t stand it, you almost beg to turn it off? It was like those times when Gloria thought she died.

I had another dream almost the same. I floated numb in glory. It wasn’t light, I knew, this immense heart-stopping brilliance bursting through what once had been me, it wasn’t light. The light it merely represents, if stands for something else brighter than light, it stands for LOVE! So intense that the idea of intense is a funny feather of thought next to how colossal a love engulfed me.

I AM! YOU ARE! IS ALL THAT MATTERS! Joy exploded in me and I tore apart, atom from atom, in the love of it, a matchstick fallen into the sun. Joy too intense to bear. Please no! The moment I pleaded. LOVE retreated but it told me that all the finest part of my nature will come forward and grow stronger as I make my way through what’s ahead for Gloria. When it’s over we’ll not only feel better, we’ll be a better person than before, happier, more whole. And when we show you what the three of us (Gloria Adam Me) can do together, other wounded persons will get to know all about a miracle too. How’s that for dreaming while partly awake!

Gloria’s Helper

Mother Earth

HAPPY MOTHER.S DAY!

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY OUR BELOVED EARTH!
HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY OUR BELOVED EARTH!

Vietnam War and “My” 50th Anniversary: A Story of survival and SADNESS

Think about all wars and conflicts and humanity’s suffering and how we can stop the MADNESS. Tears and sadness are the legacy of my war.

Linden MorningstarVietnam

What’s on My Mind: Self Realization

Let us start our shared journey of self realization with a favorite quote of mine. More will follow.

“Let my soul smile through my heart and my heart smile through my eyes, that I may scatter rich smiles in sad hearts.”

Paramahansa YoganandaParamahansa Yogananda