Section Twelve

The Encroaching Smog

Smog begins to encroach into the desert

Entry #96: The Smog

Now we were into the last week of March, and matters had gotten as weird as they could get. But I anticipated the inevitable of further weirdness, if not outright danger.

A couple days after the dark tornado hit, Leo and I had gone down to Mulvern, observing the numerous downtown buildings that had been completely demolished, and the crater that used to be Fanny's Thrift Shop. Right in the main hub of Mulvern was the worst, where several businesses were toast now: a real estate building, an old antique shop, Dick’s Center Store, the Mulvern Market, the Post Office, the Bank of America, the Mulvern Daily Press building, the Library, and the Kountry Kitchen, to name a few. Construction workers were already going through the wreckage and rubble, perhaps planning to rebuild these structures. Dick’s Center Store was a smalltime five-and-dime variety shop that Leo and I used to hangout at when we were teenagers, buying books and magazines and candy and toys mostly. And of course the Kountry Kitchen had been my personal favorite eating establishment for the last few years. Feeling sad, we drove away from the scene of the catastrophe.

 We needed beer, and the Market was gone now, so we drove to the Rocket station at the edge of town where they had pop and beer. We got a twelve-pack of Heineken, then returned to the cabin. As we sat on the porch around noontime, drinking beer, we noticed a brown haze in the distance on the western horizon. Damn! Not again!

 Every once in awhile the ugly brown smog from the cities below would seep up through the mountain passes, and settles over portions of the desert, as if the L.A. basin below was too full and brimming over.  Then after a few days the wind would blow it away.  The desert folk detest the city-dwellers and their wretched pollution, as if it were some bizarre terrorist biochemical attack.  However, sometimes it's as if the lethal pollution had a mind of its own.

 For some reason I had a bad feeling about this particular slow onslaught of smog. Or maybe I was just imagining things. Lately I had been wound too tightly, and I desperately needed to unwind. Beer was a start.

 Around three in the afternoon, I looked at the fifth bottle of beer I was drinking and mused, "Is it the beer, or is that smog getting thicker?"

 Leo replied, "The fog in your brain might be getting thicker. As I recall when I used to live here, it would creep up from the cities below now and then. But then the wind would blow it away in a few days. So don’t worry about it."

 "It seems to be creeping in more than usual."

 "You're getting more paranoid than usual."

 I shrugged it off and took a big gulp of beer.

Entry #0097: The Smog, Part II

 It was a few days after we first saw the smog arrive down in the Valley below. The air was warm and getting humid. I got up that morning and started a pot of coffee brewing on the potbelly stove. Then I stepped out onto the porch, looking down the slope. Something strange was happening in the desert.  The brown smog continued to creep up through the mountain passes, especially from the west, and settle down all across the desert floor for several miles, mostly in the valleys.  Since my cabin was up on the slope near the foothills of the mountains to the south, I observed that Mulvern was completely covered in brown yucky soup, or so it seemed.  It was so eerie that I felt chills up my spine.

 Leo was busy down in the bunker doing computer work for clients at his laptop. He had grown fond of the bomb shelter, due to its quiet and solitude from it all.  I bugged him earlier and he got snippy, so I decided to just leave him alone for a while.

 I went back inside and started cooking my breakfast, a ham and cheese omelet with buttered toast on the side -- and steaming hot coffee with half and half. I decided to take my plate and mug and sit out on the porch in my chair, setting the plate down on the little wooden table.  Unfortunately, I missed my usual ritualistic sunrise since it was about 8:30 a.m. now, so I had no choice but watch the ugly brown smog oozing slowly into the Valley below.  I swear it had crept up the long slope even further the last time I looked, when it was at least near Foothill Rd. Now it had reached Mountain View Road, and slowly approaching Agate. By the time I finished my breakfast, it had reached Zircon Road.  You see, there were several residential roads going crosswise up along the slope for about three miles toward the south, and rested between the long stretching Crystal Creek Rd to the east and Mesa Rd to the west, a span of about half a mile.  I wondered how the people in these homes along these little streets were reacting as the brown muck crept along like the Blob or something.  I imagined they were shutting their windows to keep the smog out.  The dismal smog then passed Sapphire Rd and finally Emerald, last residential road along the slope, and it was still coming. It was about 9:30 or so, and I had gotten my second cup of coffee by now.  It was slowly creeping up toward the cabins along the maze of winding dirt roads.

This was not normal.  This had never happened before.  There was something really bizarre about this whole smog phenomenon. Almost paranormal.  Or was that my imagination running wild? Perhaps this was some final phase of the opening rift.

 Although I could still hear the whining buzz of the cicadas, they were literally beginning to wind down. I stepped inside the cabin and closed the door.  Then I closed all the windows. The ominous smog was creeping closer.

Entry #0098: The Smog, Part III

I glared out the front window and I noticed the brown hazy ugliness creeping up the slope, beginning to cut out the blue sky above.  It didn't take long for the sky to be completely blotted out.  The ominous brown smog had completely enveloped my cabin and the whole area now.  And the cicadas were completely silent.  Everything was silent.  It was like death out there.  In fact, it looked like the smog was growing considerably darker, in spite of the broad daylight above that should still allow plenty of illumination. It was more like dusk, as if the sun were going down.  Goosebumps formed on my arms.  Body intuition.  This whole thing was just wrong!  I grabbed my cell phone and called Calvin Jones.  No answer.  I tried calling a few more people, like Chad, then Sheila, then Jezz, and even Monica.  No answer from any of them.  Very strange.

 Then suddenly the silence was interrupted by the shrill squawking sounds of birds, somewhere overhead. Was it a flock trying to flee the encroaching smog?  Were they in the smog or just above it? I couldn’t tell.  But it was an alarming desperate sound.  Then it died suddenly. I began to hear plopping sounds, like objects falling on the ground outside. The birds were falling! I presumed the smog was killing them – the deadly smog!

I looked out the window again, instinctively, but saw nothing but dark smog as if at nighttime; not brown anymore, but charcoal grey. Holy shit!

 Hastily I ran into the closet near the bed, lifted the hatch, climbed in, and closed it tight.  Then I climbed down the cement stairs and straight into the operations station. Leo wasn’t there. I found him in one of the bunk beds – he crashed. His laptop was on the floor next to him. He was snoring away, so I returned to the main station again.

 I turned on my computer, it flickered for a second, then the screen went blank -- black as coffee with no cream!  Suddenly, the lamp flickered, then died! I was surrounded by sheer utter darkness! I thought I was cut off from the world before this, but now it hit home so hard, that I really didn't know WHAT hit me! What was this anyway? Killer smog?

 Whatever was going on, it felt like the Apocalypse.  

I sighed, felt along my desk edge, found the top desk drawer and opened it, and grabbed a long metal flashlight, turning it on.  Thank God for batteries!  But what was I going to do, read a book by flashlight until the deadly smog cleared? If it ever cleared up.

 I was completely cut off, and I knew this was a blatant manifestation the dark rift. Clearly it had ripped wide open and now it was engulfing the whole damn desert!

Entry #0099: The Smog, Part IV

 So somehow this weird supernatural dark smog was effecting the cell phone towers and perhaps all forms of communication, if not the power in the whole desert area in general. Was some sinister force deliberately trying to enshroud us in darkness? Was this Abaddon creature behind  it all? How was I supposed to get a hold of the others? Drive around the desert and contact them that way? Except I knew it wasn't safe out there now.

 But then I remembered that Leo had a satellite phone. At first I thought this was some kind of luxury item of his, but he said he needed it for specialized long-distance calls, especially for businesses in foreign countries. So I quietly looked around in his things with my flashlight. Leo could sleep through a train wreck, I knew, because when we were kids and had sleepovers, he would snore right through the blaring alarm clock.

 I found the high-tech device in his big canvas duffel bag. It looked like an ordinary cell phone, but the little logo, saying GlobalStar, indicated this was his sat-phone. I hoped and prayed that this high-tech device would reach passed the smog that essentially covered the immediate desert vicinity, which in my estimation was probably from Victorville to the West and out to Landers in the east. But I wasn't sure; it could be stretching even further out.

 I first called  Jezz, and got through! Thank God for satellite phones! We talked about the eerie smog, and she estimated this was definitely a changing of frequencies in the vicinity, or rather, the dark rift opening wide, and that perhaps the two planes were either beginning to merge, or a doorway was opening from one to the other, or something on those lines. Considering the weird reality shifts, like the ghost town at Dead Man's Point appearing then disappearing, and the phantom bookstore that doubled as Fanny’s place, and all the others, it seemed I had been seeing localities in two different planes. She told me she was going to stay put and not go out until the smog cleared -- if it ever would.

 Next I called Chad, and he said since the rift had opened much wider now, we had to be doubly cautious. We didn't know what could happen next, if we would have entities and demons in our midst now, or what. But he said we should all get together and try some kind of banishing ritual, that it couldn't hurt. Since I was the only one with a sat-phone, and Chad couldn’t call the others on his own cell phone, I told him I would have to call everyone in stead. Next I called Sheila; she said if we were going to initiate some kind of counterattack against the psychic onslaught from the Dark Side that was occurring, we would have to do it in a high energy location, and she said the closest one was Giant Rock in Landers. She had been involved with Pagan circles that used this particular place for their various moon rituals, so she had firsthand knowledge regarding this. If we could draw in enough positive energy and Light Force, it was possible we could weaken the dark rift, if not try to close it completely, and call on some Big Guns while we’re at it.

 I asked her, "Big Guns?"

 "Yeah, the Big Boys from the Other Side," she snickered.

 So after forming a plan of action between Sheila and Chad and myself, I called Rick and Travis. So we all agreed to meet tomorrow at 9:00 AM, at the corner of Mulvern Avenue and Barstow Rd, in the Café 247 parking lot. Fortunately, that dark tornado from hell hadn’t hit this block. I told Chad that I would go into town and get some grub for us, probably at Kevin’s Korner, which was a little convenient store on the east side of town where the tornado didn’t hit. That is if it hadn’t closed early due to the dismal circumstances, and if I could drive around safely in this paranormal dark smog crap.

 I called Jezz again, asked her if she wanted to come. After hesitating, she agreed.

 I tried to call Monica, just to update her, but could only leave a voicemail message, giving her details of our plan, so she could send us some positive light energy. I hoped she would get the message. Actually, I wished she could come up here. I could seriously use her psychic powers. But we had to do the best we could with what we had. 

Entry #0100: Right Place, Wrong Yellow Cabin

I decided to not let the smog interfere. I hopped in the Blazer, windows rolled up tight, and took off through the winding dirt roads, headlights bright, but visibility was at least ten feet ahead of me. The smog was as dark as a moonless night sky but seemed as thick as black pea soup. I had to drive slowly to avoid rocks and potholes. I heard eerie high-pitched screeching sounds, and now and then I saw shadowy figures streak by, some of them winged. I finally reached Mesa Rd, a fairly decently paved street, so I could drive a little faster now, but not by much. At any rate, when I reached Mulvern, I observed that people were running around in some kind of mad rush, aimlessly, many of them screaming.

 Most of the west side of Mulvern was desolate to the ruins the tornado left, but mainly around the eastside where the buildings were still intact, people were scurrying up and down the streets, and running in and out of buildings and shops, and I realized that many of them were looting, taking anything they could carry in their arms! Some people were fighting, with fists or makeshift clubs. Obviously this eerie dark smog, being a manifestation of the dark rift that was still opening wider and wider, was affecting people erratically. Their behavior was insane and chaotic.

 Then I drove to Kevin’s Korner, and a few people darted out through the glass double doors with bags of groceries, and I saw one of the clerks yelling at people, thieves mostly. I went up to the door and the clerk said he was closing down the store; too many looters. I begged him to let me buy a few things, I had enough money to pay for them, and I even gave him four 20s up front, so he reluctantly gave in. So I quickly bought various kinds of soda and bottled water and snack food. I went through the checkout counter, the clerk said it was $72 out of the $80 I gave him and I told him to keep the change. Then I took off in the Blazer. I had to dodge people or put on my brakes so I wouldn't hit anybody. Not only that, but something big and black with wings streaked by right in front of me, screeching shrilly as I stomped on the brakes -- but then it was gone just as fast. As I returned toward the cabin, I saw other shadowy figures moving about, some humanoid figures, others strange winged demonic figures. At one point a dark wing slapped against my windshield, then disappeared.

 Before when I had been seeing these vague shadowy figures at the corner of my eye, I didn't know what they were. Now, considering the rift was wide open now, it seemed obvious I was witnessing the manifestation of what they really were -- these hideous demonic creatures from the Dark Side.

 I finally reached the cabin, turning into the dirt driveway, but something wasn't right. I got out of the Blazer and squinted through the surrounding smog to be sure. About two years ago I had repainted the cabin a bright yellow, but now I noticed old paint was peeling off all over, revealing bare wood, and the glass in one of the front windows was badly cracked. Not to mention the two wicker rockers and little wooden stand on the porch were gone. I ran to the door and got my key out to unlock it, but the key was not working in the lock. Damn! What the hell was going on! I tried the backdoor, and nothing. This was definitely my cabin, but somehow this was the wrong cabin. This was one of those damned reality shifts, and this one was pissing me off!

Entry #0101: Lost in Another World

 I noticed none of the windows had my curtains in them, so I could look easily inside, but I saw nothing that looked normal. There was no furniture or rugs or anything inside. With my elbow I broke the front porch window, and kicked the rest of the glass out with my foot. I carefully climbed through and looked around. There was a bad musty smell here, cobwebs hung from the ceiling, and a thick layer of dust covered the floor and walls. The potbelly stove where I cooked my meals was not there. I walked over to the closet where the hatch to the Area 57 bunker was hidden, opened the door, and the concealing throw rug was not there, but not only that, there was no hatch! It was just a plain wooden floor! Damn! I was really pissed now! Evidently I had entered this other plane of existence or parallel world where things were very different, where not only Rook’s Books existed, and probably the ghost town at Dead Man's Point, but where my cabin was not exactly mine any longer. It was totally abandoned.

 I couldn’t be sure whether or not the two planes were in the process of merging in the desert area, or if the demons from the Dark Side had just been unleashed into our earth plane, or what exactly. Nothing made sense. I had seen distraught people running about down in Mulvern, still partially in ruins, yet I also I saw those weird shadowy figures and other demonic creatures now and then. None of this made any kind of logical sense whatsoever. The whole thing defied logic!

 And there was nothing I could do about it, until the morning when I would meet with the others at nine o'clock. So I sat in the Blazer with windows rolled tight to keep the smog and the freaky creatures out, drinking a Cherry cola and munching on some beef jerky as I read an old paperback I found in the backseat, a science fiction book, The End of Eternity by Isaac Asimov. Although the story was a fantastic time travel adventure, at this particular time in my life the novel’s title sounded very depressing. Imagining the end of time is one thing, but to imagine the end of eternity? Yeah, pretty depressing! But obviously the whole concept was absurd, but when your emotions are out of whack, you imagine some pretty weird shit! 

 And those shadowy figures whooshed by now and then, some winged, others just dashing buy.

 I really wanted to talk to somebody, anybody. Unfortunately I didn't bring the sat-phone with me. I had stupidly left it back there, back in another reality. I really could've used it now. In times like this I always feel the need to talk to somebody, Jezz, or Monica, or even Chad. But now I felt totally alone and cut off.

 Then another thought occurred to me. Evidently I was in some alternate reality now where my bright yellow cabin had been altered, so this was not really the same cabin anymore. Which meant Leo was not here, because the last time I saw Leo he was conked out sound asleep down in the bunker -- but the bunker did not exist in this particular cabin, nor in this particular reality. So he was nowhere to be found! That not only pissed me off, but frightened me as well.

 What about my other friends? I began to wonder if they existed in this alternate reality, if they had unknowingly slipped into it like I did -- or what exactly? I would not know until the morning. Although it was too dark to see the sky due to the dark smog, I assumed the sun was setting around now, since it was about 7:30 pm according to my dashboard digital clock. Since I was bored and tired, I decided to sleep, but I slept restlessly in the backseat of the Blazer, having ghastly nightmares about shadow people and shadow monsters with sharp claws and sharper teeth, trying to get into the Blazer. At one point in the middle of night, I woke up to exactly this scenario! Some winged creature slapped into my windshield and with sharp talons tried to scratch through it, but when I honked my horn repeatedly, that scared it off. This was a realm where nightmares and reality seemed to be the same.

 What a hell of a night I had!

Entry #0102: Driving to Landers

Being shut out of Area 57 like this was unnerving! But in this case it existed in another universe, while I was stuck in a different one.

 My body was achy from sleeping badly in the backseat of the Blazer. According to my dash clock, it was about 8:15 am. Dark smog hung thickly in the air, keeping out any trace of the light of the morning sun somewhere beyond. I feared if I opened the windows I would choke and cough and gag, if not eventually die from the poison.

I took off and drove down the slope toward Mulvern, and when I entered town from the westside, once again I saw people running about crazily, still looting the shops and stores, screaming in terror or yelling profanities, and some of them were fighting, like fighting over stolen loot.  Several crazed individuals were burning buildings, especially the old wooden ones. Some of them had made big bonfires in the middle of Mulvern Ave. It was madness! Someone ran at me with a baseball bat, but I was able to swerve around the nutjob, then I shifted into reverse, turned around and went back the other way. I had to take the long way around. I sped up Highland a quarter of a mile, turned left on Clark Rd, and after half a mile, turned left down Crystal Creek Rd. and headed back toward town, the eastside where I hoped it would be safer. But not much luck.

 I arrived at the rendezvous point at Café 247 on Barstow Rd and Mulvern Avenue, which was at the point where the main drag turned into Old Woman Springs Rd, or Highway 247, all of which most likely confused travelers not familiar with the area.

 I was glad to see that the others were actually there, which meant that perhaps these two realities or planes of existence merged or coalesced to some degree, or the Dark Side leaked into our plane, or a new one had formed, or some crazy phenomenon that I didn't quite understand.

 Then another car pulled up to the parking lot, and parked beside my Blazer. The door opened and Monica stepped out! I was shocked and overjoyed! We hugged and kissed and then I asked her, "I’m so glad you’re here! I didn’t really expect you – but you must’ve gotten my message."

 "Of course I did, thank God," she replied.

 Monica explained that she had a dream a few days ago wherein her spirit guide told her she needed to help come up to the desert to help us fight the dark entities and  attempt to close the dark rift. And luckily she later received my message, so she’d know the time and place of our meeting. Then she tried to call me to discuss it further, but she couldn't get through. I explained to her that this freaky dark smog somehow messed with cellular communication, but thankfully not sat-phones. But I was glad to see her and told her we could definitely use her help.

 Introductions were short because we had to move fast, since people were still insanely running around downtown. I observed that Rick was not with us. Why, I didn’t know. Jezz, Sheila and Monica got in my vehicle, and Chad and Travis stayed in the van, and we took off toward the east on Old Woman Springs Rd, toward Landers. Chad turned his headlights on, and so did I, since the smog was still thick and dark. 

We discussed the madness we all saw in Mulvern, and wondered if this was taking place in all the other towns across the desert due to the opening rift, or ripped open rift, or whatever. Then I told the girls about my own strange incident, that when I returned from Mulvern, my cabin had strangely transformed, and that the bunker did not exist, but somehow I was thrust into the other universe. Jezz and Sheila said similar things occurred to them. Jezz and her boyfriend had been hanging out at the mall, and when they got back to Jezz’s house, not only had it changed to looking dilapidated, but the whole neighborhood seemed abandoned. Sheila's was freakier; she had stepped out of her house and wandered down the street  to investigate the strange smog developing in the area, though it made her cough, and burned her eyes, but when she got back to her apartment building, there was nothing but a wide-open dirt lot. Fortunately her car was still on the street. But it was very distressing to find her home gone! She knew she had slipped into a parallel reality caused by the dark rift.

 Monica basically said that as she drove up through the mountain past that lead into the desert, the smog proceeded to grow thicker and darker, and it was hard to drive, even with her brights on, and that she saw strange winged creatures flying around here, and sometimes hitting her vehicle. I told her we had been getting that for a few days now. Then she said the freaky part was that as she sped up Interstate 15, at a certain point the well-paved freeway suddenly turned into a badly paved, pothole-riddled road, and she had to slow down even more. She knew this was a potent reality shift, obviously due to the rift, and the black smog was obviously a manifestation of this.

 That was not surprising, considering this old highway we were driving on was badly paved as well, and was mostly dirt in some places. Normally this road was well paved. Well, not in this particular universe it wasn't. Jezz asked me where Leo was, and I said I left him back at the cabin, which meant he was probably back in our own universe.

 Sheila said that explained why Rick did not show up.  And when she drove by his apartment to pick him up, as planned, nobody lived there. The whole building appeared dilapidated. When the weird transition occurred, for some unknown reason Rick got stuck in his own universe, just as Leo had too. Whereas the rest of us had slipped into this freaky dark plane of existence.  

George Van Tassel’s Integratron, Landers, CA

 Entry: #0103: Discussing the Effects of the Rift

 Not to anyone in particular, I asked, "I can't figure what the hell is going on here. Did the rift completely rip wide open now? Has the Dark Side and the earth plane merged, or what?"

 Jezz offered, "I'm not sure, but I know those cultists we were spying on said something about wanting to merge the two planes, but when that Abaddon demon spoke, he said something about not caring about that, but he just wanted to wreak havoc on the earth plane."

Sheila remarked, "Either way, it sounds pretty scary. But I think what actually happened was more on the lines of a large crack was formed in a dam, and all the water once held in is now pouring into the valley below and flooding it. So you could say our plane is being flooded by the dark waters from the Dark Side, which is manifesting as this weird smog, including the demons and such creatures we’ve seen.

I asked, "Fine, but how do you explain the weird reality shifts and parallel universes? Some of us have been slipping back and forth between different planes, and some people are most likely stuck in one or the other of them. Apparently Rick and Leo are stuck somewhere, but they're not in this particular plane that we’re in. How do you explain that?

Monica suggested, "Evidently what has been taking place is not a merging, but a fragmentation of planes, or splitting off of different realities, due to the rift that was developing. For some reason, the rift must have created an extradimensional fissure, or numerous fissures, which means some people are stuck in one plane, and some are stuck in another. Since you're using the term parallel universes, many of these look very similar to each other with varying differences, so the people involved don't really know where they're at, or which plane they’re really in at the moment -- which explains the ongoing reality shifts that you have been experiencing." 

I said, "I suppose that makes about as much sense as anything, although it's all still very confusing." 

Jezz commented, "Whatever is happening, I sure hope we can repair it." 

I nodded, "I hope so too." 

After a few minutes of silence, while everyone considered the ideas we pondered on, I asked Sheila why we didn't all go in the van, there should be room, without Rick especially. Sheila said Chad packed some camping gear. Just in case we got stuck out there. There was very little room for more people.  

At any rate, to my suggestion, we broke out snacks and pop drinks and bottled water, which helped bide our time while we drove toward our destination. 

Normally Landers would take us about 40 minutes, but since this alternate version of Old Woman Springs Rd was treacherous, as Chad had to dodge a lot of nasty potholes, it took us about an hour and a half. Fortunately, the smog was not as thick out there, but we knew that eventually the blanket of supernatural dismally dark cloud would reach this area. It was good to see the sun in the eastern sky, but through the dark haze of slowly approaching smog to the west, it was filmy at best. 

At any rate, we turned off of Old Woman Springs Rd and onto what Chad was sure should be Linn Rd, but it was unmarked and badly paved too. In fact, we saw no road signs at all out here. We traveled on this road for several miles, until we reached what should have been Belfield Blvd. where we could see the spot where the famous Integratron should be, built by George Van Tassel, but there was nothing but a big barn there instead. We continued northeast along Belfield, which was a dirt road, not paved like it should be, and this finally ran into Giant Rock Rd, also unmarked. We finally reached the famous Giant Rock itself, as tall as perhaps a seven story building. Normally there was a large chunk that had broken off of it, but this particular giant rock in this universe had no such breakage. Obviously parallel universes weren’t perfectly parallel. Of course it was expected that there would be numerous differences. Badly paved and unmarked roads being one of them.

 First we got fortified and ate some snack food and drank bottled water or sodas.  I watched the dark smog pushing in from the west, and began to instinctively cough, so did the others. There’s nothing like breathing poisoned air. Then we huddled about and discussed our plan of action. 

The ominous Giant Rock, Landers, Ca

Entry #0104: Our Arrival at Giant Rock

  It had been many years since I had seen this majestic thing called Giant Rock. In fact I was a teenager when my family visited it last. Back then my older brother facetiously told me this was a supernatural location some folks called the West Pole, and that directly on the other side of the Earth was some Buddhist temple that marked the East Pole. I naively believed him, but now I realize he was just pulling my leg, as he often did.

 I asked the group, "Are we powerful enough to invoke the closing of the rift?"

 Chad frowned, "I admit, we've never had this kind of challenge before. But we've got to try our level best."

 Monica said, "There are benevolent forces here that are clearly going to assist us. I feel this very strongly."

 Sheila chimed in, "Yes, exactly. The thing we have to remember is that we're basically going to be calling on some pretty Big Guns."           

I chuckled, having this image in my head of a squad of robust Marines with some pretty hefty machine guns in there arms. But I pretty much knew what she really meant. Then I remarked, "I usually think of angels and archangels and spirit guides and beings like this -- am I right?" 

Sheila nodded, "You're on the right track. Each of us can call on whomever they feel appropriate. Often we invoke the Great Christos and the Mother Goddess, and what some call the Elder Brothers and Sisters, and of course, there are some pretty powerful archangels which we call upon in many of our rituals. So you see, we're just calling the cavalry, calling on the Big Boys with the Big Guns." 

I nodded with a smile, "I got it." Sometimes I wondered why Sheila wasn't leading this group. She seemed to be more in tune and informed then Chad. 

Suddenly, from the heavy dark smog in the west we saw shadowy figures flying like bats, coming toward us. They looked a lot like bat-winged gargoyles in fact, and they screeched loudly. 

Chad said, "Time to get to work." 

We had some guns and shovels and baseball bats and so forth to ward them off, so we were prepared – if not ill-prepared with our feeble weapons. Such weapons were no consolation when you're up against dark forces of evil. We needed the equivalency of actual psychic weapons. Because if you're swinging a baseball bat through a whirling dust devil in the desert, you get no results. I asked Sheila about this. 

She replied, "Right now, those creatures coming at us have materialized into the physical. But you've got a good point, because they can become nonphysical just as quickly." 

I asked, "So what do we do?" 

She sighed, "I'm not sure at the moment." 

I wondered if any of us were sure of anything. We were a ragtag band of physical humans up against powerful supernatural creatures, and I had no idea how we could possibly triumph that. I couldn’t help doubt our strength, wondering glumly if these dark denizens from hell would defeat us in the end.

Another view of the old Giant Rock predating the large chunk that broke off