The Tenth Insight: Holding the Vision by James Redfield & Carol Adrienne

Author:James Redfield & Carol Adrienne [Redfield, James & Adrienne, Carol]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: bestseller
ISBN: 9780446672993
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Published: 1996-12-01T00:00:00+00:00

HELL

Achill surged through my body as I looked out on the gray environment.

The ominous feeling I perceived earlier was turning into a clear sense of alienation and despair.

"Have you been here before?" I asked Wil.

"Only to the edge," he replied. "Never out here in the middle.

Do you feel how cold it is?"

I nodded as a movement caught my eye. "What is that?"

Wil shook his head. "I'm not sure."

A swirling mass of energy seemed to be moving in our direc IM tion.

"it must be another soul group," I said.

N As they came closer, I tried to focus on their thoughts, feeling r sense of alienation, even anger. I tried to shrug it an even greater off, open up more.

"Wait," I vaguely heard Wil say. "You're not strong enough."

But it was too late. I was suddenly pulled into an intense blackness and then beyond it into a large town of some kind. In terror r I

I looked around, struggling to keep my wits, and realized that the architecture indicated the nineteenth century. I was standing on a street corner full of people walking by, and in the distance was the raised dome of a capitol building. At first I thought I was actually in the nineteenth century, but several aspcts of the reality were wrong: the horizon faded out to a strange gray color, and the sky was olive green, similar to the sky above the office construction that Williams had created when he was avoiding the realization that he had died.

Then I became aware of four men watching rre from the opposite street corner. An icy-cold feeling swept my body. All were well dressed and one cocked his head and took a puff from a large cigar. Another checked a watch and returned it to his vest pocket. Their look was sophisticated but menaciN.

"Anyone who has raised their ire is a friend J mine," a low voice spoke from behind me.

I turned to see a large, barrel-shaped man, also well dressed and wearing a wide-brimmed felt hat, walking toward me. His face seemed familiar; I had seen him before. But where?

"Don't mind them," he added. "They're not so hard to outsmart."

I stared at his tall, stooped posture and shifitng eyes, then remembered who he was. He had been the commander of the federal troops I had seen in the visions of the nineteenth-century war, the one who had refused to see Maya and had ordered the battle against the Native people to begin. This to,,vn was a construction, I thought. He must have re-created his later life situation in order to avoid realizing he was dead.

"This is not real," I blurted. "You're ... uh ... deceased."

He seemed to ignore my statement. "So what have you done to piss off that bunch of jackals?"

"I haven't done anything."

"Oh yes, you've done something. I know that look they're giving you. They think they run this town, you know. In fact, they think they can run the whole world." He shook his head.

"These people never trust fate.

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