2012: Seeking Closure - The Novel

The sickly glow streaming in from the window behind the President bathes the room in crimson. His aides, advisors, and senior staff members, those who haven't been evacuated already, huddle close to his left and right, just out of camera range. He clinches his hands together to keep them from trembling as he struggles to compose his thoughts.

He glances off to his left, where a photo of his wife and young son rests on his desk. Gloria flashes her famous smile, the very same smile that has captivated both the country and the world for the last four years, and him for the last 26.

He thinks of 5-year old Tanner. Months, even weeks ago, President Rodriquez had hopes and dreams for his son's future, despite the knowledge he has carried for more than a year. But now he has to go on the airwaves and somehow impart hope when for most, hope has long died and turned to dust.

"One minute, Mr. President," says the balding director.

The President looks into the camera and feels as if he is staring down the barrel of a gun as a finger slowly squeezes the trigger. His left hand strays to the cross dangling from his neck. His wife often teases him about the habit of reaching for it every time he's stressed, and, as she jokes, it is why he would make a horrible poker player. But today the last hand has already been played, and as everyone turns their cards over, all of them are blank. Which as it turns out doesn't matter, because the jackpot has been filled with nothing but fool's gold anyway.

His family is safe, yet he yearns to hold them tight just in case. He wants to be, needs to be, with them, but first he has to warn the people of the world. It is his duty...his damned duty...to tell them that they were about to die. Guilt mingles with the relief of knowing that he and his family would not be among them.

As the director counts down the last seconds, he tears the cross from his neck and throws it away.