Mojo's Mix Book Two Dragon: Mojo's Mix, #2

By Dan Hoquist

    THE BIG SCREAM:
       Imagine how hard it is to silence your own thoughts, suddenly billions of other minds invade yours, with all their fears, anger and even physical pains, all at ten decibles. Then, add the feeling of billions of deaths, mostly heart attacks with the viscious murders of insanity-driven and the grief of suicides, you get the end of Humanity. 
       Moses Johnson, AKA: Mojo, a budding Disc Jockey, survives an apocalypse nobody could prepare for. Now, with the help of an orphaned Autistic child and a Navajo Medicine Man, Mojo finds he has the power to gather remaining survivors to a new beginning, a new song of Humanity...a new MIX!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dan Hoquist
• Release date: Jan 18, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224617890

Dan Hoquist

long-time Southern California resident, Journeyman Sheetmetal Worker, Amateur Archaeologist, Author and Researcher of hidden histories. After writing three non-fiction books, based on his discoveries, their connecdtions to ancient histories and cultures, Dan Hoquist marks this with with  his original perception of possibilities!

Book preview

Sa'ah Naagh'ai Bik'eh Ho'zho

Dine' (Navajo) Blessing For Long Life, Filled With Happiness And Harmony

Dedicated to the Oklevueha Native American Church, the Rainbow Tribes and ALL Indigenous Peoples who believe the best ways to keep Traditions are to TEACH them!

Special thanks to my Dad

for introducing me to

Bobby Bumstead

CONTENTS

Preface

1. SIGNS

2. THROWING STONES

3. QUEST RESOLVED

4. MANIFEST GHOSTS

5. FUTURE'S POSSIBILITIES

6. LEARNING LOVE

7. HONOR'S JOURNEY

8. HEROS LOST AND GAINED

9. WINTER

10. NEW TOOLS

11. DRAGONBORN

12. THE MIX

Glossery

Preface

Dragons evoke images of fire-breathing flying creatures, and these images are strikingly similar, on a worldwide basis. There are differences, of course, because of cultural or societal perceptions, such as the fear-based societies of medievil Europe, or the willingness of oriental cultures elevating to godly status things that differ from their daily norm. Virtually all marking their experience by art and doctrine to retain for permanent memorial retention of their importance.

With the exception of those medievil Europeans, dragons are seen to be positive. Oriental histories image dragons as flying worm-like creatures, who are more intelligent beings, some bringing their very culture to the peoples as teachers. Those teachers are viewed as lucky, and those who encounter them are often venerated to become their spiritual and political leaders, even being named as dragons.

Again, with a European exception, Dragon experiences are told in cultures from Ausralian Aboriginine, Pacific Islanders, Mexican, African and South American telling tales of them carrying people or Gods. The Chinese culture itself, is said to have begun when the Yellow Emperor arrived by Dragon, bringing knowledge of farming, construction and even spiritual matters.

Medievil Europeans viewed dragons as more like winged dinosaurs, somehow more intelligent than human, with abilities of fire and magical powers. Those few who could conquer, kill or force their will upon these creatures were often venerated as Sorcerers and Saints. The story of Saint Patrick driving serpents from Ireland is said to actually reference actions against dragons, ridding them from the land. The Arthurian legend of the Sorcerer Merlin tells of his use of dragons in battles, while a warrior Knight called George was eleveted to Saint for the killing of an evil dragon.

In a modern re-evaluations of academically dismissed stories of dragons, Ancient Alien theories are viewing them as the crafts that carried beings from the stars to Earth. Indeed, artistic representations from indigenous peoples on a worldwide basis seem to depict incredibly similar events, at the same general timing in their various histories. The very fact that these stories, mostly intact, have survived from the earliest human histories, are validation of the serious importance differing peoples attributed to these events.

Simply naming those ancient stories as mythology, seems incredibly arrogant as cameras have become available to the masses. Videos have surfaced of possible living organisms that travel our skies, mostly unseen, but visible in the extreme ranges of ultraviolet and infrared visual spectrums, or violent electrical storms. One must wonder as sciences are baring the truths that religious and political leaders have manipulated histories to their sole benefit.

As our understanding of the universe is increasing, we are also becoming aware of the possibilities of alternate dimensions and our connection through rifts, portals or warping of energies. The existance of things outside our normal perceptions seems almost a certainty, so, we need to alter our perceptions to accept, not deny, the likliness that our imagination is too small to comprehend the whole.

If dragons are more intelligent than humans, I can understand them separating themselves from us...possibly waiting for humans to mature...or our extinction?

1. SIGNS

NELLIS BOMBING AND GUNNERY RANGE

RESTRICTED AREA

NO TRESPASSING BEYOND THIS POINT, NO PHOTOGRAPHY PERMITTED

IT HAD TAKEN ALMOST two weeks to make my way from my home at the Hubble Trading Post, near Ganado, Arizona. Roadways were quickly being reclaimed by Mother Nature, without regular maintenance.  The wreckage of seeming mountains of rusting cars and trucks turned the highways into obstacle courses, anything near cities became mazes without exit.

Even the long, straight, mostly dirt road to the fences I now faced, was only passable because of the four-wheel drive of the pickup I drove and the increasing pull of the metallic cross I discovered when searching for the survivor, Jorge Cabrerra, at Kirkland Airforce Base, New Mexico. The artifact I was called-to was a twisted brass and silver-ish equal sided cross, about four inches diameter with different colored crystals attatched at the endings. It was apparently discarded for, who-knows-how-long, in a cardboard box marked Lost & Found.

Now, looking at the wall of warning signs that seem to all declare death from electricity or armed soldiers and the rows of cameras on posts, I chose hesitation instead of following the pull headfirst, besides, it had started to rain...hard! I looked to check on the still sleeping, angelic face of my adopted brother with the simple name, ABO. The only word I had ever heard from his mouth, he had picked-up after hearing the workers at the Navajo Orphanage refer to him as, A boy, because he had not been named before his mother had given him-up. I smiled at his little round face and the bit of drool coming from the corner of his little grin, peaceful despite the increasing pounding.

Opening my mind a little crack in the personal shield from the continued shout from mass minds of, what I called, the Big Scream, I could hear/see/feel my adopted family having fun with a drum ceremony led by my savior and mentor, Hahi Dibi, a surviving Navajo Medicine Man. I was going to let him know where I was and ask him for advice, but I felt the joy emanating from the family participation and decided it might be a good time to practice the meditation that the experience of my quest for the source of the weird cross' tug had negated or delayed.

Dibi had taught me that meditation was supposed to be a way of letting-go all the muscles that keep us from truly relaxing. 'From the Toes to the Nose', was his technique and meant to release muscles, little-by-little focusing on bits until I could feel them relax.

But, the trip was a constant worry, as was the well-being of my hero and new little brother, Abo, who Dibi had convinced me wouldn't take our separation without serious problems, as my quest companion. My mind was a jumble lately, my body was a knot from dealing with deteriorating roads, hands hurt after gripping the wheel, making regular meditation impossible. Though, now having been forced to delay, I had no excuse but to wait and try to relax.

Pulling boots off, I gave my feet a good massage before beginning to focus on their muscles, thinking; >toes to the nose, here I goes<, giving my self a mental wink. Big toe-to-winky, then relax the arches and heels to start on achilles tendons. Suddenly, a face pops-up and I open my eyes but it's still there, like a double exposed picture!

It appeared to be some middle-aged Oriental man, oddly familiar characterisics I couldn't quite place. Although he was obviously Oriental, there was something about the slightly upward slant of the eyes looking directly into mine, that I felt I knew. He had a big grin under a flat-looking nose, round-ish cheeks and chin all topped by his shiny bald head. Dude scared me so much I started waving my hands in front of me, trying to clear the facial apparation from the air and thinking >whatheheck, ghostsnow?!<

Shocked and shaking a little, I closed-up my mental shield tight as my mind was so jumpy I thought, >there goes ME time!< My brain was all-over the place, worry and memories vying for priority front-row seating, but I knew I had to take this fleeting opportunity for the comfort of mind and body that meditation brought to me. I figured I would try again using kinda toes to nose in my head, I started with my earliest memories and maybe my mind could relax them, one-by-one.

Well, maybe not the first memories, as my mind immediatly went to the sore spot of feeling the moment Mom died when billions of humans were suddenly forced into each other's minds. I called it The Big Scream, 'cause the pain was like my brain became the sound of a billion out-of-tune bagpipes with no volume control!

By my figure, a little over nine months since the Big Scream forced telepathic connections with every other human alive, the screaming had become more of a big growl. The family had talked about the question of just how the Big Scream happened, I think our conclusion was all the weird Bio-weapons and mandated medicines had somehow mutated our brains. The instant scream of intelligent people was now a whole lot more raw emotions than anything resemblng speech though.

Imagine how hard it is to silence your own thoughts, suddenly billions of other minds invade yours, with all their fears, anger and even physical pains, all at ten decibles. Then, add the feeling of billions of deaths, mostly heart attacks with the viscious murders of insanity-driven and the grief of suicides, you get the end of Humanity. I knew if I couldn't get past the elephant-in-the-room of the Big Scream, I wouldn't be meditating tonight.

I remembered Mom always calming my bad dreams by singing a song from a woman called Sade, Kiss of Life, as my thoughts slowly unwound. I was thinking the vision of the Oriental man had shaken me, so I purposely remembered the face had an obvious grin and figured if he were a ghost, at least he seemed a nice one, maybe. When I let-go the anxiety it felt like I had dropped a weight, smiling a little, I thanked Mom for the power of her love of music.

Music was a natural flow as