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  Worst of all, nightmare creatures snuck through the darkest shadows in caves. Just recently recognized as real, they came from the middle earth realms to dine on human flesh. The world as Sedona had known it, had been brutally turned on its head, with the past belief systems smashed as if they never existed. It was a brave new world all right—one more sci-fi and fantastical in nature than rational, or text-book quantifiable.

  True, by paying attention to those considered on the ‘tin-hat wearing fringe’ she and others had come to believe there was much more to ‘heaven and earth’. From a deep down knowing, Sedona had always known. But now proof arrived daily, the headlines splashed across Homeland-run media, with the truth used as one more reason, and one more terror to justify the martial law of the black oppressive regime.

  Shrieks echoed around them suddenly, the horrific sound piercing her skull. A flock of huge heavy wings flapped past them. She almost screamed as several of the wings brushed her, squeezing him so tight, she wondered if she hurt him.

  I think I’m too old for this, she admitted to herself, something she hated to do. When something small struck her helmet, she snapped her eyes open. Tiny arrows whizzed past them.

  “Pygmy cannibals!” he yelled back. “Pluck them off.”

  Instantly they slowed. “Oh, my god!” she screamed, seeing the net barrier up ahead of them. A tiny horde of barracuda-teethed cannibals charged toward them.

  Volcano shot light from his palm, searing a hole in the net. Sedona screamed sharply, the yuck horror factor, then fierce instinct took over. She grabbed a teeth-clinging cannibal by the back of its neck, pulling it off Volcano’s thigh, and flinging hard. One-by-one she picked the horrid little things off, throwing them, tossing them everywhere as hard as she could, ultimately not caring how loudly their bodies crunched against the cave wall.

  Finally they flew through the net, streaking down a narrow section. To her surprise a source of light glowed, allowing her to see the gleaming sides of a corridor. Obviously not naturally formed, Sedona frantically hoped it wasn’t one of the New World Order’s network of tunnels.

  “Atlantean,” he shouted back to her. “Only opens to recognized genes. Yours.”

  “Glad to be helpful,” she yelled back, in a state of observing her own shock. Yet, not exactly stunned, since she’d spent a lifetime studying her own strangeness, apparent once she entered the first grade. For most of her life she’d been part of the paranormal ‘lunatic fringe’. Still, she’d always been careful to appear sane enough to survive in the world around her.

  Drawn to everything Atlantis, Sedona had devoured tomes of myth and research, after finding Edgar Cayce’s readings. Before the Nazerazzi crackdown on the first amendment, she’d listened to researchers discuss their theories and intuitives reveal their insights about Atlantis on late night talk radio.

  She strained toward his ear. “How far does it go?”

  “Far enough to escape. Hang on, Sedona, we’re going super speed for awhile.”

  Super speed? She tightened her grip on him, locking her hands in front of his waist. A whoosh enveloped them, and a g-force wind tore at them. Suddenly they seemed to be sailing inside the calm of a storm. All was incredibly silent as they flowed forward. Around her, Sedona could only see a stretched luminosity of light, and silvery glowing striations.

  At least, it’s an adventure. If nothing else.

  One of many adventures for us.

  Are you mentally talking to me?

  I am, Sedona. It’s easier for you to hear me in this frequency speed. Until you learn.

  Telepathy? Stupid question, right?

  You’ll get the hang of it soon.

  If you say so. You’re not answering my questions. Mind readers after us?

  Yes. Better if you don’t know right now.

  This is all definitely weird.

  Blank your mind, Sedona. Close your eyes for me.

  Only for you, she crooned, slicing her tone a bit.

  They slowed, jetted upwards. Sedona felt suspended for an instant, then they bolted forward, and hit the ground on wheels. She smelled volcanic ash, yet fresher air. The scent of fir trees filled the dry chilled air. Thank Goddess, she didn’t smell fire from the falling asteroids.

  “Open your eyes. Indian territory,” Volcano called back.

  Sedona’s heart leapt to her throat. If the scout squads thought they were enemies, or decided they didn’t belong, well, it was a good day to die, even though she was on their side, believing they had a right to their own lands. Or a good early morning to die. Mentally she shrugged.

  “I don’t think they’ll ask before they shoot,” she shouted into the wind.

  “Look around you.”

  Sedona gasped. Wolves raced with them. Spirit wolves, beautiful and powerful, feral and ethereal, she recognized them from their occasional appearances in her bedroom at night. Mesmerized, she watched them, and hoped they were seen by any scouts observing them. Still, she’d always wished she could talk with those in the Indian Nations who defied, and fought the police state to reclaim the freedom of their lands.

  “California?” she dared. Her gaze glued on the wolves, she lived the majestic incredible experience.

  Steadily, they curved and climbed upwards on an old back logging road.

  California. Land of the Mayan revival.

  Volcano?

  At your angelic service.

  And how do I know it’s you? Not a telepath mind reader? She toyed with him, yet was also serious.

  The wolves. Our enemies wouldn’t see them.

  Okay. You passed that test. City of Angels?

  December 21, 2012. The scene. The place to be, Man. Woodstock for all generations.

  You’re too young to know about Woodstock, or ‘the scene’.

  Mother told me. Took me back for my tenth birth celebration.

  Lucky you. I only saw the movie. Took you back?

  Time ride. Slip in, slip out.

  Liberal mother.

  Only allowed me to experience the music, the innocent fun. Not the free love.

  But you went back, didn’t you?

  Sixteen and curious about human free love. And Jimi Hendrix.

  I bet. Enjoy the mud slides?

  Every angel needs to get his wings dirty sometime.

  You have wings?

  Cherubim wings. Not here.

  If you’re Cherubim—whatever that means exactly—how come—?

  How come free love?

  Dirty wings. Dirty mind?

  I’m carnal. Created to live among physically manifested populations, perform angelic service.

  So you can—

  Make love to you? Yes, Sedona, I can make love to you.

  She couldn’t say what swept over her. Not exactly tingles. Or quivers. Or shivers. But something that made her breath halt for a moment. Made her forget about the running wolves for a moment.

  Why would you want to, if you do?

  Why say ‘if you do’ when you know I do?

  Hard to grasp it.

  No, it’s not.

  An image of him naked, aroused, formed in her mind. And it wasn’t her imagination.

  Dirty wings for sure! Didn’t your mother ever wash your wings out?

  Only with stardust soap.

  You can have your carnal fill of pretend virgins at Mayan Toga and Feathered Serpent Days.

  I protect you. No other woman is stimulating to me.

  Great! I’m the default position.

  Default position? Like a Kama Sutra position?

  No, Sedona blushed painfully red, somewhat surprising herself, but then, she’d always had a shy side. Not to mention her erotic side, but that was only by herself. Until, earlier. Goddess! She burned another blush. Rescued by a sexually starved cherub?

  She felt him laughing, his body shaking as she clung to him. Good Goddess, his body felt sexier and sexier.

  Running with the wolves. Holding onto a naughty cherub without his wings, she sang to his mind.

  The next moment shots rang out. Swiftly he maneuvered the cycle to a safe stop, behind several imposing fir trees. Before she could even think. “It’s okay,” he reassured her. “Those were warning shots for us, not against us.”

  “Special cherub intuition?” she cut, but figured it was probably true. Suddenly intensely edgy, she leaned back from him.

  “Always.” He twisted back to her. “You’re too pale.”

  “Probably blood sugar. Us oldies, but goodies are tricky that way. Especially after menopause. At least I am!”

  “Reach inside your side pocket.” He grinned, unfazed by her verbal jabs.

  Sedona felt the bar, brought it out. It was wrapped in lovely red foil. Soon she munched cherry chocolate, having watched the foil vanish first. “You think of everything. Thanks. We waiting for someone?”

  “Yep. Your intuition is on target.” Volcano pulled out his bar.

  “They’ve been put on alert for us, haven’t they?”

  “Not enough warriors to keep the Nazzerazis out. They want to lead us through. Telepathy with the elders earlier, I asked for permission to travel here.”

  “What? Were the Nazzerazis waiting to ambush us?”

  “Headed our way. Drone scouts. Three Hummers.”

  “Where are the shower-invading asteroids when you need them?”

  “China, Russian lands,” he seriously spoke.

  “World annihilation halted by asteroid destruction. God has a sense of humor?”

  “The final cosmic joke, humanity.” He grinned .”Inside Seraphim joke.”

  “Ain’t it the truth? Life on Earth, one long I love Lucy episode on dark matter and giant-making steroids.”

  “The Hummer squads are bio-steroid giants, Sedona
.”

  “No more fun for the fallen angels of antiquity, interbreed with the local women. Make baby giants. Now it’s all in the lab.”

  “There are fallen angels, The Dark Masters, and there are angels fallen to Earth, as Light. But it’s not time for us to face them down, destroy their minions.”

  “You don’t want to just leap the cycle over them?” she teased, wondering if that was a possibility.

  “Don’t want them to know what power they’re dealing with yet. Too much disruption of the timeline.”

  “Oh, that tricky timeline—forwards, backwards, sideways—everything actually occurring all at once. Speaking of time. Do I have time for a rest stop?”

  “I won’t look,” he promised, “if you stay close.”

  “A gallant cherub. Never in my wildest dreams.” Sedona dismounted, a bit stiff. She took off the helmet, ambled to a slightly hidden spot. “Drip dry,” she muttered to herself, not seeing any good leaves. “And chilly. And snakes.”

  Her heart pumping fright, she watched the small snake slither away. “Wonder if it’s an omen, meaning the snakes are on the way.”

  She stomped before squatting, and finished quickly. Hearing the hoof steps of horses, she quickened her footsteps. Three riders approached on hardy-looking mustangs.

  Volcano moved to meet them, speaking with them as if they neighborly knew each other. A young woman, a young man and a man that looked to be close to her age sat comfortably on their horses. Soon the handsome cherub motioned her over.

  “Sedona Khali,” the older man greeted, his blue eyes in contrast with his deep bronze weathered skin. “Dave BearFeather.”

  Surprised, she glanced up at him. “How do you know the name I anonymously write under, Mr. BearFeather?”

  “One freedom fighter always knows another freedom fighter.” He smiled enigmatically, then cracked a mischievous grin.

  “Your picture is on the undernet,” the young woman explained. “Dad reads all your freedom posts.”

  “Then we were destined to meet, Mr. BearFeather.” Sedona extended her hand up to him.

  “Dave.” He warmly grasped her hand. A surge of energy flowed between them, nearly electric. For an instant she saw him as he was in the shamanic realm, where he appeared as a unity of bear and feathers and human in form, and stood surrounded by other such beings.

  “Amazing,” she murmured. “Did you ask the wolves to help?”

  “No, they help you. You’ve seen them individually.”

  “Occasionally.” She felt sad when he released her hand. “Your newest grandchild will be a girl. She will follow in your path.”

  “Yes, I believed the spirit to be female, and kindred. Do you know her spirit name?”

  “She prefers Bearcat, but she also feels like a princess.” Sedona smiled, grateful she could simply be herself for once, and say what she was divinely led to reveal without fearing the consequences. “You met her briefly during your last vision.”

  “Hmm, briefly. A sprite bear cub. Eyes like her mother. Time to leave, my new friends. Follow my daughter, Donna MoonHawk and my nephew, Gary OwlBlade. I will speak with the Homeland Representative.”

  “Thank you, Dave. Many blessings.” Sedona backed away, and smiled.

  “Let true freedom ring,” he spoke her post title, then grinned. Turning his horse, he vanished into a mist portal.

  Sedona blinked, then whirled around. “Wow.” She stared at a magnificent black horse where the cycle had once been. Next, she stared at Volcano, his garments now transformed to a flannel shirt, denim jacket and jeans. Before she could speak, her own garments had changed to a copy of his.

  Swooping her up, Volcano placed her astride the black horse, then swung up behind her. He grabbed up the reins, and immediately they rode along a deer trail, following the slow lope of the mustangs.

  “Explanation,” Sedona softly demanded, rocking with the horse easily, and rocking inside his embrace, rather delicious, except she wanted control of the reins.

  “I sent the cycle ahead by portal. Comfortable, Sedona?”

  “Comfortable, even though we’re on a saddle. Prefer bareback. You could give me the reins.”

  “He’s my horse and only bonded to me. I don’t think he’d like that.”

  “And how did your horse get here?”

  “Same portal. One of my many cherub talents.”

  “Does he have wings when he’s not on Earth?”

  “No. But if you want a Pegasus, I’ll create one for you.”

  “Now that’s a true seduction line if I ever heard one.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  Sedona sighed loudly. “Don’t you think this is kind of ridiculous? Is this what they teach you in cherubim school?”

  “How to create your dream Pegasus? Yes, it is.”

  His voice teased her, yet also held his guileless truth.

  “Where? Not here. Timeline and all.”

  “Our sanctuary.”

  “Sanctuary? Our?”

  “Where we will eventually reside on Earth.”

  “I suppose that’s on a divine need-to-know basis.”

  “Right now we have a long journey ahead.”

  “Truthfully, Volcano, I’m too worn out for any kind of long journey. Way too worn out.”

  “Lean on me,” he warmly and seductively invited.

  “Like I am now?” she murmured. “What’s his name, your horse?”

  “Translates to Magician. You would hear it as tones of sound.”

  “The angelic tones I hear, sometimes?”

  “Yes, Sedona.”

  “Can you speak his name in tones here?”

  “Not wise. It would be overwhelming. I can sing to you, healing sounds.”

  “Why not? But no siren songs, if you know what I mean.”

  “No siren song, now. Healing first.” Volcano crooned the tones he knew she needed, since he had her permission. He felt her radiant enjoyment, riding on his horse, as they gently galloped through a clearing toward a denser part of the highland fir forest.

  “Magician is healing,” she murmured. “Used to have my own horses.” Sedona shoved the memories back down. It was just one more nightmare for her, and for everyone else existing beneath the evil that had devoured the United States of America, almost whole.

  “Want to remember how to use one of your warrioress angel skills?” Volcano tempted, his tone also deadly serious.

  “Warrioress angel skills, what the blasted heck are you talking about?” Sedona straightened. “We’re in danger, aren’t we?”

  “A drone has discovered us. Raise your palm, Sedona, destroy it.”

  Without thought Sedona scanned above them. Seeing the glint, she aimed with her hand. Her intention fired as a flash of white light. The drone exploded, disintegrating into fine dust.

  “That was fun.” she murmured. “Wow! But won’t they know?”

  “The next time, destroy the drone and the data reception point. Listen with your psi sense, Sedona, you’ll hear it.”

  She listened while they slowed to a walk on a rock ledge above a small ravine. A tiny buzz alerted her, then she felt the prick in her energy matrix, the invading drone the size of a wasp. Aiming, she visualized her light surging to the data point, then destroying. She fired. In her mind’s eye she watched the drone’s explosion, followed the streak of flowing whiteness. Suddenly electronics sparked, and smoked.

  The operating tech’s expression registered pure shock.

  “More fun.” She felt giddy inside. “But won’t they know where the drone surveilled?”

  “Not if we destroy their entire data operation.”

  “We?”

  “Wait until we ride over this ridge and I’m all yours.”

  Sedona frowned even though he couldn’t see her. She leaned with him naturally as Magician powerfully leapt up the ridge, slippery with loose rock.

  “Good boy,” Sedona automatically praised, once they slowly moved down the back side of the ridge, toward an immense meadow of sparse grass.

  Following the mustangs, Magician stretched into a long trot, then a ground-eating lope. They stayed along the fringe of the meadow, partially hidden by the old growth fir and pine trees.

  “I’m all yours. Want a really good time?” he crooned suggestively, but lightly.

  “If you mean further destruction, yes,” she grouched.

  “Take my hand. Feel where you were. I’ll go with you.”