EXCERPT - The Journey
Unlike the other books, in a novel, one chapter does not contain closure
and summary (which is common to most Kryon channels). Instead, here is
a brief excerpt from The Journey Home.
Mike had been on the road for no more than two hours when he noticed
that the wind was picking up, and the sky was darkening. Oh great! thought
Mike Storms in paradise.
For the last hour or so he had indeed been struggling with his load,
and had been stopping at increasing intervals to rest. Not only was all
this stuff heavy, but it was awkward as well! This irritated Mike at a
deep level, and made him feel out of balance ö Now a storm too! He
would need to find some shelter shortly if it was going to rain. He didn't
want his bags to get wet, and was uncertain if the new battle gear would
rust or not.
He stopped again for a brief moment and looked behind him for the first
time. IT WAS THERE! The green blur darted at lightning speed behind an
outcropping of boulders. This time Mike had seen it! It had substance,
and was huge! Feelings of great apprehension swept over Mike's tired body
as he realized that this apparition had not gone away since the last house.
He remembered that Orange had told him that IT was dangerous and could
hurt him. As he rested, he positioned himself to the rear so that he could
observe the path behind him at all times. He knew that he must stay alert.
He had no idea how alert.
The wind increased. Now it was difficult to walk. A normal person would
have had no difficulty at this point, but the new battle shield almost
became a sail... strapped to his back as it was. If he hadn't had all the
baggage, he would have simply held it in the balancing position he had
practiced and would have probably moved much faster... holding it against
the wind to stabilize himself ö but that was not possible while carrying
his satchels. Mike knew that he would have to find a place soon that protected
him until this unusual weather calmed down and returned to the balmy conditions
he had been used to so far.
Mike had never seen anything like it. The weather was changing drastically
within a very short period of time! Constantly on the alert for his following
Nemesis, Mike noticed to his horror that the thing was able to gain on
Mike despite the wind and now the driving rain. It was quick! How could
it do that against such a wind?
The addition of the rain and the increasing wind demanded that Mike
take some action. Things were changing too fast! Mike started crouching
to present a smaller profile to the wind as he plodded forward. Soon he
stopped and huddled down on the ground ö forward motion was becoming
The storm was starting to take on a personality of its own as it began
to groan and wail with the increased wind velocity. The rain was starting
to feel like so many needles drilling into his flesh, as it was now being
propelled horizontally with hurricane force. Mike knew he was in grave
trouble and paramount danger. He sneaked a peek at the path behind, now
beginning to be obscured by the driving rain and fog. Clearly he could
see a dark green figure... now standing tall with what appeared to be glowing
red eyes. It was starting to move forward! It wasn't affected by the storm!
How could this be? Mike was having a fear reaction.
The voice from the BLUE angel was unmistakable as again it prompted
Michael from within:
"USE THE MAP!" The voice was so clear, Mike thought! He is indeed
with me. The storm's fury was beginning to rival anything that this Minnesota
boy had ever witnessed, and was starting to become what he had imagined
it would be like inside a twister's funnel. He now had fallen into a prone
position on the ground, and was still trying his best not to be lifted
and swept up by the incredible force of the storm. The flatter he could
get the dirt, the better. Now the screaming of the elemental bombardment
had grown to sound like a freight train ö the noise was deafening!
Mike's fear could have been destabilizing and might have gripped him with
terror, but somehow there was sense in all of this. If only he could reach
his map.. there would be an answer!
Unfortunately Mike didn't have the facility to retrieve his map, as
he was incredibly preoccupied with staying alive. The fierceness of the
elements was like an attack on his very being, and he was literally hanging
on to the plants of the earth with one hand, and his precious cargo of
books and photos with the other. The map bag had been slung around his
neck and was crumpled beneath him ö safe, but completely unavailable.
He started to feel his body being lifted by the horizontal vehemence of
the driving, howling wind, and the sail like qualities of the shield on
his back. Like a bullying personality, the fierce storm poked and prodded
him to action. Mike forced his body closer to the ground, and by sheer
will he anchored it by driving the toes of his feet into the dirt and hanging
on to an especially obstinate weed with one hand.
It was completely dark now; the billows of black clouds that had developed
in the sky had descended to the very area where Mike was laying... making
sight a thing of the past. His eyes were bare slits, trying to protect
themselves from the attacking wind and rain, but there was nothing to see.
He was even having difficulty seeing the ground beneath him! Where was
the dark thing? Was it coming to get him? Did he dare move, or would the
storm blow him to his death? Like bells in a fire drill, Mike's every cell
vibrated with an alertness he had never experienced before. Fear? No! His
will to survive and fight the situation was dominant. He was committed!
He had to find a way to get to the map!
The voice from the ORANGE angel sounded like an oasis in the desert
when it softly spoke into Mike's head. How could a soft sound be heard
when there is so much noise? Mike thought?
"Michael Thomas, let go of the baggage!"
Mike knew it must be so, or he would die. The rain had soaked into his
clothing now, making him cold. He was starting to shiver. Through the drone
of the assaulting wind, Mike heard and felt a tremendous percussive wallop.
What was that new sound? He had felt it vibrate through the ground. Was
IT coming closer now? He had to do as Orange had told him! He knew IT was
Mike slowly but methodically let go of the bags that he had so carefully
packed with his precious cargo of memories. First went the books. By uncurling
two fingers he released the strap of the first bag. The satchel was snatched
by the storm like an angry power tool just waiting to shred it. Mike felt
it literally ripped from his hand as he let go. He wondered if his finger
was broken. He could hear the tearing of the seams of the bag and the heart
wrenching flipping sound of hundreds of pages being torn to tiny pieces
only feet from his head. It was the most awful sound he had ever heard!
His precious books! Without thinking too hard about it, he let go of the
other bag by opening the thumb of the same hand. This was even worse! The
storm had the violence of a mad prize fighter standing over him, wrenching
the case from his tentative grip and pummeling him to the ground. He actually
wondered at that point if the dark thing had finally arrived and had begun
to overwhelm him and tear him apart. The battering from the storm was like
a team of drill sergeants jumping up and down on his back!
Unlike the books, the photos disappeared without a sound. They were
simply gone in an instant... and it made Michael Thomas angry. His entire
lineage and the priceless, beloved memories of his dead parents were being
disseminated over the landscape by an uncaring force of nature while he
continued to be harassed and hammered by the same wrathful dispassionate
The pandemonium around Michael Thomas was fierce. He slowly tried to
raise up slightly so that his now free hand could somehow be slipped under
him to grasp the map. It was tentative, and he almost lost his grip...
being lifted slightly by the wind under the battle shield still strapped
on his back... but he timed it well, and was able to at last grasp the
scroll beneath him. Using forefinger and thumb he managed to gradually
unroll the map still beneath him to the place he knew the dot would be.
Working on instinct alone, he slowly inched the parchment up his chest,
pulling with it the wet earth and dirt that was being scraped along between
the hard metal of his armor and the wet ground. It was an interesting balance...
to press his body down as hard as he could to the dirt, yet allow his hand
and the map to travel up his torso. He felt the skin scrape off his hand
as it met a small rock on the way up. How was he going to be able to see
the map once it was high enough? It was pitch black! He couldn't see anything!
Even if he could see it, would the writing be washed off? The deathlike
grip of his other hand on the weed was beginning to fail against the bombardment
of rain and wind. His arm was growing numb. Michael was slowly losing the
IT was not affected by the storm. As a low vibration visitor in a high vibrational land, the wretched creature was not touched by the wind, rain and turmoil that pounded the land around IT. IT freely stood up to full height and slowly made IT's filthy dark way bravely to the middle of the path and strode toward a prone and groveling Michael Thomas, who was barely hanging on for dear life against the elements... elements that had no influence whatsoever on IT.
IT was not swayed against the incredible force of the howling wind.
Nothing the weather was presenting was affecting the dark figure, except
the lack of visibility. IT approached Michael slowly with the stability
of a casual walk in the park. IT was beginning to feel that fate indeed
had presented a gift this day. The darkness of the storm had an effect,
and soon IT could not see any better than ITs prey. As IT moved closer
to Michael Thomas, IT was prepared to finish what the odd storm had started,
for IT was ready and prepared to scatter the parts and pieces of Mike's
biology to the farthest corners of this nonsense fairy land that IT despised
Mike's intuition was correct, for IT was close now. The darkness had
raced in as if the entities there had requested a personal blind fold.
IT was going on instinct as to where Mike was on the ground. It attacked
with great purpose and power! .. only to find itself blasting apart a section
of the earth very close to where Mike lay. Mike had heard IT, but IT had
also heard something else; the flipping of pages and the tearing of fabric
as Mike had lost his books. IT quickly turned to face the new sound. Now
IT knew where Michael was! IT was pleased.
IT came closer, and finally in the dimness of the great raging storm that IT could not participate in, barely made out the shape of a helpless Michael Thomas with one hand under him and one hand grasping a small resolute weed. If IT could have smiled... IT would have at that moment. IT descended on Michael Thomas' back with a vengeance.....