Tuesday, November 1st,
Seven days before Election Day

The limousine approached Baltimore's HOPE City, and Jane Weisser looked out at the mass of supporters awaiting the candidate. What was once the poorest, most dangerous section of the city had been miraculously transformed years ago into a mecca of opportunity for the city's forgotten people. All because of Sam Howard, the man sitting next to her, the man she loved without question. Jane looked at him and felt her heart beat an extra beat. He was forty-seven years old, handsome, and had a commanding, yet gracious presence. As his campaign director, Jane had brought him to where he was today, to the door of the Oval Office. She had molded him into the perfect candidate.

At least she believed he was the perfect candidate. The polls, however, were not in agreement.

Jane saw the archway leading into HOPE, and she wondered what she could do to turn things around. She thought about their years together, about their beliefs and principles, about their vision for the future.

Sam turned and smiled at her, and Jane melted. Although everyone viewed her as always in command, Jane Weisser was powerless under Sam Howard's spell. It had always been that way, ever since their days together at Yale.

The limousine slowed, and the Secret Service agents jumped out of their cars and surrounded the area. Jane stepped outside and looked around. Not a cloud was in the sky, making it feel like a spring day. The cheers and applause for the candidate was thunderous, and it gave Jane a chill, as it always did. Everyone was in a celebratory mood. They believed their 'Uncle Sam' was going to be the next President of the United States. Jane noticed the children in the crowd happily eating their Halloween bounty. Last night, they had swarmed the countryside like armies of ants, hoping not to get any tricks. They obviously hadn't. Jane smiled at them as the procession was led through the archway into Baltimore's HOPE City.

Life was indeed a treat.

At exactly 4:00 p.m, five-hundred perfectly-timed bombs devastated America's twelve HOPE Cities. What had taken twenty years to build was gone within minutes. Thousands of innocent people, struggling to survive while bettering themselves everyday because of HOPE, died instantly. Flesh and bone flew in every direction, mixed with wood, brick, metal, and glass, all colored blood-red. Thousands more were unfortunate enough to have to view this holocaust a little longer before hundreds of refurbished tenement buildings, stores, and new businesses crumbled on top of them, sending them to an agonizing final peace.

In all the cities, those who weren't in any of the stores or hi-rise apartment buildings ran through the streets. They didn't know where to go. Hide. Fire was everywhere. Everyone was crying. Screaming. Many were in shock and just stood there, watching in disbelief. Mothers clutched their children to their bodies, and fright, utter panic, filled everyone's faces. Those who were able to crawl out of these shambles would have been better off remaining there to quickly die. Some were armless and legless, and some were on fire. Some were naked, their clothes completely burned off, and a sickly shade of wet crimson-red covered their entire bodies.

It seemed to anyone lucky enough to survive this Armageddon as if a war had erupted. They looked up to the skies and saw no warplanes. No bombs dropping down on them from an enemy they could see.

It could only be the end of the world.

Jane Weisser, along with Sam Howard and the rest of the campaign team, stood inside the entranceway of the Baltimore HOPE City. She tried to run for cover, but fear had paralyzed her legs. She saw brick, wood, and blood fly in every direction, splattering and shattering everyone and everything in its way. The force of the explosions was so painful to Jane's ears that she had to cover them. In its wake, the sounds of churning metal and roaring fire, the gut-wrenching screams of little children, pierced her eardrums anyway.

Jane's eyes focused on the horrific landscape before her and she saw the Baltimore HOPE City sucked into the bowels of Hell. Before she could accept the reality of what was happening, something hard hit her on the side of her head and she lost consciousness.

"JANE! JANE!" Sam Howard yelled.

She opened her eyes and noticed she was on her back. The sky was orange, and the heat from it felt as if it was frying her skin like it did every summer at Ocean City.

"Speak to me!" Sam Howard knelt by her side and lifted her in his arms.

Jane regained her bearing a moment later. The McCormick Spice Company was nearby, and the acrid smell of chili powder, along with the smoke and dust, burned her throat. "Oh, my God," she tried to shout as she looked around, "those poor people. We have to help them, Sam." 

"No! We have to get out of here!"

"But, those people . ."

"We can't stay . . ."

". . need our help!"

"I know, Jane, I know . . ."

"We can't just walk away from them. We have to do something."

"We have to get out of here. Now!" Sam insisted.

Sprawled out on the pavement no more than ten feet from her was Jennifer Stewart, an intern at The Weisser Organization. Her eyes were pleading for help, but her body was still. Tears ran down Jane's cheek. Just last month she had met Jen's mother when she came to Washington to visit her daughter. Now . . she had no daughter. It was a scene Jane knew she would never forget. There were Jen Stewarts everywhere.

"MOMMY! MOMMY!" a lost child of five or six screamed in terror.

Jane heard it. Her heart dropped into her stomach with a speed and weight so great that she had to take repeated deep breaths to stop from losing it. She thought about all the dead children, all the children gripped in panic. It forced her mind back to the time she lost her eight-year old brother, Michael. Dizzy with emotions she couldn't deal with right now, Jane forced herself to concentrate on the moment. If she didn't get up, she'd be trampled to death. Feet were stepping on her, kicking her, falling on top of her. She hurt all over.

It took every bit of strength and mobility, but she was finally able to stand. Against the tide, Jane pushed herself through the crowds of hysterical people rampaging toward the city's opening archway. It was like swimming upstream; it took every muscle to move. She squeezed through the avalanche, lifted the bloodied child, and hugged her to her body. The little girl clung to her, her arms and legs wrapped tightly around her, as if begging Jane not to let her go. "It's okay, baby," she tried to assure her, "you're going to be okay."  

"JANE, PLEASE, YOU'RE NOT SAFE HERE," Sam screamed as his Secret Service agents pulled him away. "SOMEONE GET HER, FOR GOD'S SAKE!"

Concrete fell all around them, fire engulfed everything, and thousands of shrieking voices made it almost impossible to hear him. Jane tried to comfort the frightened child. "Let's go find your mommy," she whispered in her ear. She saw an old man laying on the ground. Blood was pouring from his torn-off leg. He was jerking back and forth, screaming unintelligibly. Next to him, a woman in the last trimester of pregnancy lay dead. Jane's knees became rubbery and her stomach flipped.

"Allison. Oh, my baby, my baby!" A woman grabbed the child from Jane's hands and ran off. The reunion made Jane's eyes tear. She thought about her mother and how she had never had the chance to rescue her child from such fear. Her heart rebounded to her throat. Jane's mind returned to the disaster before her. She saw a young boy crawl out from beneath a building. His jaw hung open in a grotesque angle from the rest of his torn face. Nausea swept over her.

Jane tried to swallow, but her throat was dry from all the dirt and smoke. She rushed over to help him. As she did, one of the Secret Service agents assigned to Sam Howard grabbed her right arm and spun her around. "Senator Howard is a presidential candidate, ma'am. If someone is trying to assassinate him, we have to get him to safety."

Someone knocked her down to her knee. "Oww!" She had to do something, damn it, only there was nothing, she knew, she could do. The agent reached down and helped her up. Jane stood there, frozen, gaping in horror at the enormity of the disaster. Sirens from police, ambulances, and fire engines got closer and added their wails to the mass hysteria. 

The agent offered her his handkerchief, and Jane pressed it against her bloodied head. "You gonna be all right, Dr. Weisser? Maybe we should get you to a hospital."

"No, I'll be fine, thank you." Jane looked at everything around her as if it were a scene in a movie. It was too much for her. She turned away and walked toward Sam's limousine. If they had arrived on this campaign stop a few minutes earlier· 

Jane Weisser felt a sickly force enter her body and clutch her heart. Was someone trying to assassinate Sam Howard? And would they murder thousands of men, women, and children to achieve that? Dear God, how could something this terrible happen seven days before the election?

Order the book now!