Tamika was the first to speak, “You okay, mister?”
“No, I’m not okay!” came the harsh reply.
“Don’t freak out on me, I’m just as scared as you.”
After taking a moment to think things through, Tamika said, “I gotta check on my children!”
“Where are they?” Calloway asked.
“They with my mother at my apartment on ninety-eighth and Lexington.”
Calloway had no idea where that even was. He glanced at Richard Figueroa’s remains—his clothing, jewelry, tooth fillings and briefcase. What in the world happened to him? Where did he go? In a demanding tone he said, “I need to get to the hotel to make sure my colleagues are safe!”
“I’m sorry, mister, but I’m heading home. You free to get out and walk to the Waldorf if you want, but ain’t nothing gonna stop me from going home!” Tamika burst out in tears.
What kind of a man am I to make her drop me off first? “All right,” Calloway said, in an apologetic tone. “Go on by your house. I’m sorry. Hope your kids are okay.” Mine too...
“Thank you,” was all Moseley could say through her tears.
Traffic was at a standstill. After dodging around a dozen or so wrecked vehicles, Tamika was only able to advance her cab two blocks in 20 minutes time. Accidents were as far as the eye could see. Fires were breaking out in large numbers. The more Moseley saw, the more panic-stricken she became.
After numerous attempts, Calloway had no luck contacting his family, or anyone else for that matter. Not even text messages were going through.
Tamika was faced with the same dilemma. Each time she called her mother’s cell phone, she got a busy signal.
The pressure kept mounting.
20
BRIAN MULROONEY REMAINED SEATED inside Michigan Stadium, in section 44, row 13, still in total shock. That is, until he heard a loud, screeching sound coming from afar. The closer it got, the louder it was.
Out of nowhere, an airplane appeared through the gray, snow-filled clouds. It was spiraling out of control, headed straight toward the stadium. Sheer panic kicked in. Mulrooney was too frightened to move. He couldn’t catch his breath.
The helium-filled Goodyear blimp hovering above the stadium, providing aerial shots for television viewers at home, was at the wrong place at the wrong time. It did all it could to get out of the way of the out-of-control airplane, but to no avail.
The Air France Airbus 321, en route to Chicago, Illinois—from Paris, France—suddenly became pilot-less and nose-dived, colliding straight into the blimp.
It exploded on impact. Flames shot out everywhere.
As the burning mass inched closer to the ground, the smell of fuel, burning rubber, metal, paint and human flesh was everywhere. Everyone still inside the stadium looked up in frozen horror as the burning airship hurtled toward them at blinding speed.
The blimp’s cockpit slammed into the stadium, causing the blue fiberglass benches it struck to buckle under the pressure of its weight. Some of them even burst into flames.
Many were killed upon impact.
Fifty feet away from Brian Mulrooney, what appeared to be a TV camera from the blimp hit the bleachers with a loud echoing noise, instantly killing the couple seated there, and badly injuring many others. The impact sent shivers up his spine. He was so frightened he nearly jumped out of his skin.
Fire and death lay on the ground everywhere.
About the only good thing for everyone still alive inside the stadium was the trajectory of the falling airplane. It descended at a 45-degree angle, carrying the plane just over the stadium wall into the parking lot. Had it not cleared the wall, everyone inside the stadium would have surely been killed.
The plane crashed into the parking lot with a deafening explosion. Flames shot out everywhere, causing most cars to burst into flames. Billowing smoke rose high into the air. Those still alive inside the stadium felt the impact. It literally shook the air.
Crisler Center, home of the Wolverines men’s and women’s basketball teams, along with the men’s wrestling team and women’s gymnastics, just missed a direct hit. Had the plane crashed 200 feet from where it had, Crisler Center would have surely been leveled.
But the building didn’t escape damage altogether. Many of its windows were blown out from the pulse created by the explosion. The round building also suffered structural damage after being struck by falling and even ricocheting debris.
Given the choice, if one of the two buildings had to take a direct hit from the burning mass, Crisler Center was the better of the two, because it was void of spectators.
Many who ignored the command to stay inside the stadium were killed trying to get to their vehicles. The parking lot was instantly turned into an inferno of death. Dead bodies outnumbered cars ten to one. The temperature felt a hundred degrees warmer—at least that much.
Though it was snowing in Ann Arbor, snowflakes couldn’t be seen anywhere near Michigan Stadium. The heat from the many fires had turned the snow into rain.
It didn’t look like summertime, but it certainly felt like it.
It looked like a bad dream. Yes, a nightmare. Only it was daytime.
Tragically, this unspeakable horror was just the beginning of things to come for all of Planet Earth’s remaining inhabitants…
“Listen, I tell you a mystery: We will not all sleep,
but we will all be changed—in a flash, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet.
For the trumpet will sound, the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed.
For the perishable must clothe itself with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality.
When the perishable has been clothed with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality,
then the saying that is written will come true: “Death has been swallowed up in victory.”
“Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?” (1 Corinthians 15: 51-55).
“For the Lord himself will come down from heaven,with a loud command,
with the voice of the archangel and with the trumpet call of God,and the dead in Christ will rise first.
After that, we who are still alive and are left will be caught up together with them in the clouds
to meet the Lord in the air. And so we will be with the Lord forever.
Therefore encourage one another with these words” (1 Thessalonians 4:16-18).
Thanks for taking the time to read the prequel to Chaos in the Blink of an Eye.
I would be most grateful if you shared your thoughts on Amazon.
Even a short review would be appreciated.
May God continue to bless and keep you.
Why did so many people vanish? Where, if anywhere, did they go? Was this silent evacuation confined to the United States only, or was it a global occurrence? What will President Jefferson Danforth do to protect the nation? Is it even possible? Can Tamika Moseley, Brian Mulrooney, Renate McCallister, Charles Calloway, Craig Rubin survive the mayhem? If so, how will they function in this strange, new world? Is there a definite reason for all the chaos? If so, what is it?
Find answers to these questions and so much more as you continue in this prophetic series. Each page will give you a panoramic view, a front row seat to witness future events that MUST come to pass sometime in the future. You will relate to each character as if you were right there with them. You will laugh with them, cry with them, hurt with them, as they try to survive in a strange, new world. More importantly, you will rejoice with them.
The sixth installment is now available.
Once completed, this series will consist of approximately twelve books.
To contact author: [email protected]
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Patrick Higgins is the author of The Pelican Trees, Coffee In Manila, the award-winning The Unannounced Christmas Visitor, and the award-winning end times prophetic series, Chaos In The Blink Of An Eye.
His book The Unannounced Christmas Visitor recently won the 2018 Readers’ Favorite Gold Medal Award in Christian fiction.
Higgins is currently writing many other books, both fiction and non-fiction, including a sequel to Coffee In Manila, which will shine a bright, sobering spotlight on the diabolical human trafficking industry. While the stories he writes all have different themes and take place in different settings, the one thread that links them all together is his heart for Jesus and his yearning for the lost.
With that in mind, it is his wish that the message his stories convey will greatly impact each reader, by challenging you not only to contemplate life on this side of the grave, but on the other side as well. After all, each of us will spend eternity at one of two places, based solely upon a single decision which must be made this side of the grave. That decision will be made crystal clear to each reader of these books.
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