The Aftermath Read online

  CHAOS

  IN

  THE

  BLINK

  OF

  AN

  EYE

  PART TWO:

  THE AFTERMATH

  AN AWARD-WINNING

  END TIMES SERIES BY

  PATRICK HIGGINS

  COPYRIGHT © 2015 PATRICK HIGGINS

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American copyright conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter, without written permission of the author. Address all inquiries to the author.

  All scripture quotations are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version (NIV) © 1973, 1978, 1984

  by International Bible Society.

  Library of Congress

  Cataloging in Publication Data

  ISBN 978-0-9992355-1-5 – Paperback version

  Published by

  www.ForHisGloryProductionCompany.com

  Publisher’s note: This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, organizations,

  and incidents portrayed in this novel are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or events is entirely coincidental.

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  Prologue...

  A synopsis from the first installment of the series,

  Chaos in the Blink of an Eye

  On a cold and blustery, snowy Saturday in late November, more than 111,000 people were crammed inside Michigan Stadium, in Ann Arbor, Michigan, to watch the Michigan Wolverines play the Ohio State Buckeyes. It was a heated college football rivalry that had spanned more than a century.

  No one inside the stadium was prepared for what unfolded soon after the football was kicked into the snow-filled sky to start the game. Long-foretold Bible prophecy came to pass right before their eyes, causing many to suddenly vanish into thin air. Players disappeared! Coaches disappeared! Members of the media disappeared! Members of both marching bands disappeared! Cheerleaders disappeared, along with many in the stands.

  In the blink of an eye, the football game was suddenly insignificant. Fear and panic filled the hearts of everyone still inside the stadium. People screamed hysterically and wept uncontrollably, clinging to their departed loved one’s clothing and all other effects. But their bodies were nowhere to be found. Many were too afraid to move, for fear that they, too, would vanish.

  But what happened inside Michigan Stadium was only a drop in the bucket compared to the rest of the world. In the blink of an eye, life as humanity had known it was forever changed when the Great Disappearing Act came to pass.

  Those who were still alive were about to experience the greatest cataclysmic events to ever rock Planet Earth...

  1

  BRIAN MULROONEY HAD HIS face buried in his hands. He was weeping over the loss of his friend, Justin Schroeder, when someone approached him.

  Through the small gaps in his fingers, he knew it was a female by the boots she wore. Except for soft sniffling, she stood silent inside Michigan Stadium, despite the chaos all around her.

  Mulrooney ignored her, hoping she would go away and leave him alone. It didn’t work.

  Finally, the distraught woman said, “Can you help me?”

  “No! Leave me alone!” Brian yelled, wiping tears from his eyes. Already on maximum overload, this was the last thing he needed.

  The woman burst out in tears.

  Mulrooney looked up at her. The anguished expression he saw on her face ripped through the 33-year-old hotel manager like a hot knife in butter.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “Are you okay?”

  “M-m-m-my husband was hit with something that fell from the sky. He’s dead,” the woman said, trying to stabilize her breathing.

  Mulrooney didn’t know what to do or say. How could he possibly help her when he, too, had no idea what was going on? He gave her a quick looking-over. Her denim jeans were ripped just below the left knee, exposing a bad gash on her leg. Flesh protruded through her skin. It looked nasty.

  “You need to have your leg examined immediately,” he said, pointing to it.

  “It was some kind of electronic device,” she mumbled, ignoring his comment. “My husband and I both saw it coming straight toward us. We were paralyzed with fear. I snapped out of it just in time. Tom wasn’t so lucky. He…” Her sobbing became uncontrollable.

  Mulrooney rose to his feet and hugged the woman. “Everything’ll be fine,” he lied, trying to comfort her. “What’s your name?”

  “Jacquelyn.”

  “My name’s Brian. Brian Mulrooney.”

  “Jacquelyn Swindell.”

  “I lost someone, too,” Mulrooney mumbled. “My friend disappeared with many others.”

  “My husband didn’t disappear. He was killed.”

  Why did some people vanish while others were killed? Mulrooney kept this rather strange thought to himself. “You wanna try and get out of here? Your leg’s gonna need stitches.”

  “I’m not worried about my leg,” Jacquelyn snapped. “It’s the least of my concerns.” Just as she said it, a gust of wind came along, ripping a dizzying pain through her wound. She sat on the bench and applied pressure with her two thumbs. It didn’t help. The pain only worsened. “I can’t just leave my husband here.”

  “I don’t know what to say, Jacquelyn. With so many casualties, they may treat this place like a crime scene. Stay here. I’ll look for a security guard. Maybe they can tell us what to do.”

  Jacquelyn nodded okay.

  Mulrooney gathered Justin Schroeder’s personal belongings, save for his clothing, placed them inside Justin’s Michigan knit cap, took a deep breath and left to seek assistance. The scene was gruesome: dozens of dead bodies littered the stands at Michigan Stadium. Some were too grotesque to look at. It seemed everyone still alive needed help with something. Some pulled at their hair and clothing, sobbing loudly. Others walked aimlessly throughout the now near-empty stadium in a daze. Everyone was out of sorts.

  And why not? They had just experienced horror at its best.

  Mulrooney ignored them like they weren’t even there and remain strong, if only for Jacquelyn’s sake. Searching for a security guard, he thought back to how festive it was just a few short moments ago. He and Justin were having one of those once-in-a-lifetime memorable moments.

  This isn’t a lifetime memory, he thought. It’s a nightmare! Thinking only escalated the pain. He felt faint and sat down to collect himself. His headache was ten times worse now. He felt helpless, hopeless, and started weeping again over the loss of his longtime friend. Where are you, Justin?

  After a few moments, the P.A. speakers came to life again: “Ladies and gentleman, I’ve just been advised to ask everyone to leave the premises immediately. Huge chunks of metal from both aircraft have ripped through delicate parts of the stadium’s infrastructure. We do not know how structurally sound the building is at this time. Do not attempt to leave through gates one and two. That’s where the aircraft made a direct hit in the parking lot, and where most of the parked vehicles were destroyed.

  “Be extremely careful exiting the stadium. For now, the deceased must remain where they are. Please take your loved one’s personal belongings with you. Once everyone has left the stadium, they will be moved onto the playing field. You can always come back to claim the bodies later.”

  Mulrooney turned back and found Jacquelyn kneeling next to her husband. She was sobbing. Was she prayin
g? Not knowing what to say or do, Brian inched up close behind her and stood in silence.

  After a few anguished moments, the grieving woman looked up, wiped tears from her eyes and said, “Let’s go. I need to get out of here.”

  Exiting the stadium, it was apparent that the problem stretched far beyond Michigan Stadium. Did it reach beyond Ann Arbor too? Brian expected to see mass chaos, but certainly nothing of this magnitude. Accidents and fires were as far as the eye could see. Plumes of smoke billowed up in all directions from the plane crash.

  Is this the end of the world? Mulrooney asked himself.

  Walking through the parking lot, another one of Brian’s worst fears was confirmed. Though the plane crashed 200 feet from his car, the impact caused a Domino effect of explosions from one car to the next. Peering through smoke and flames, from what he could see, perhaps five or ten cars survived the crash; if that. His Hyundai Sonata hybrid wasn’t one of them.

  “There goes my ride home. Just hope my insurance covers airplane crashes,” he said, chuckling without humor.

  Jacquelyn Swindell wanted to laugh but couldn’t. “If my truck survived the insanity, I’ll take you home.”

  “Where’d you park?”

  “Three blocks from here in a lot on the corner of Kipke and Greene. Maybe my car survived.”

  “Hopefully your luck’s better than mine,” Mulrooney said.

  They walked in silence. Jacquelyn was clearly in shock. Her husband’s blood was splattered on her leather coat, gloves, scarf and hat. Some of her own blood was mixed in with it.

  Brian couldn’t think of anything to say to console this poor woman. He felt like he was having a nervous breakdown with a killer headache to boot. But after just witnessing her husband’s gruesome death, he needed to remain strong for her. Her predicament was infinitely worse than his. He wrapped his left arm around her, as she limped along moaning in agony with each step.

  It seemed everything within eyesight was doused in flames. It’s a wonder anyone survived, thought Brian.

  Jacquelyn breathed a small sigh of relief seeing that her truck had somehow survived the mayhem. Except for fallen ash on her just-washed, red Blazer, everything else looked fine. It looked like she’d driven through an overgrown fireplace and gotten a soot bath.

  Jacquelyn unwrapped the bloodied scarf covering her face and threw it in the back of the truck, giving Brian the first real glimpse of her face. He seriously doubted the stress lines etched onto her forehead were there an hour ago.

  Traffic was at a complete standstill. With communications severely disrupted, many computerized key-less entry cars wouldn’t start. Every few seconds, the sound of tires screeching met with crunching metal and fiberglass. Accidents were piling up everywhere. Some cars had dead bodies in them. Others were empty of passengers. Some were full of people who were too afraid to move, for fear that something terrible would happen to them next.

  Alarms were going off everywhere. Emergency sirens were screaming. People were crying and screaming hysterically. Dogs barked uncontrollably, sensing the invisible evil that just invaded the planet.

  Life was totally out of control.

  Surely, this is the end of the world, Brian thought again.

  2

  BUT IT WASN’T JUST an American thing. This unfathomable tragedy transcended all countries and borders, instantly ensnaring and terrorizing the entire planet.

  In the blink of an eye, countless millions of people vanished into thin air without a trace. Disappearances occurred at social gatherings, parties, shopping malls, office buildings, movie theaters, bowling alleys, parks, zoos, restaurants, museums, day- and night-care centers, airports, train stations, bus terminals, marinas, hospitals, doctors’ offices, hotels, motels, seminars and retreats.

  Even jails, prisons, detention centers and psychiatric hospitals were reporting disappearances, worldwide, causing major lock downs and widespread panic.

  With 24 different time zones, some people vanished at the breakfast table. Others vanished at the lunch and dinner tables. Some vanished on the job. Others vanished in their sleep.

  Millions of frantic people filled the streets of the Earth, looking skyward, hoping to identify the powerful force that just invaded their planet. Some dropped dead in the streets, their hearts failing them. What was capable of causing such a thing? Was it good or evil? Visible or invisible? No one seemed to see anything.

  Whatever it was, it forever changed life on Planet Earth.

  Would it return to get the rest of us later? They feared not.

  After the initial shock wore off, many seemingly lost their minds. They walked around mumbling to themselves. Others, suddenly fearful for their lives, waved guns of all sorts over their heads firing shots in the air, daring, challenging, whatever, whoever, did this to try it again. They needed to protect themselves at all costs from a possible Round Two.

  Countless fires were burning out of control worldwide. Many were caused by automobile accidents, plane crashes, train wrecks and downed electrical wires. Other fires were caused by appliances being used by people who suddenly vanished or were killed—stoves, ovens, vacuums, hair dryers, and the like. Some fires were caused by unattended lit candles, cigarettes, pipes, cigars and marijuana joints.

  Smoke billowed up everywhere, polluting and darkening the skies. Once extinguished, with so much toxic smoke rising into the atmosphere, blocking the sun, temperatures would surely drop considerably.

  Roadways were a complete mess. Crashed cars and trucks were everywhere the eye could see. Some were clustered together on roadways. Others, after careening out of control, smashed into medians or ended up in ditches soon after the Great Disappearing Act took place.

  Thousands of airplane crashes had already been reported. Some crashed to the ground; others collided in midair or into the ocean. Some crashed into buildings, homes, and apartment complexes, sending a barrage of metal chunks to the Earth, killing everyone in their wake.

  Reports would soon confirm that some of Planet Earth’s most famous and influential people died in these plane crashes. Star athletes, rock stars, rap stars, movie stars, famous scientists, inventors, media moguls, artists, designers, religious leaders, politicians, heads of countries, millionaires and billionaires were on board planes they owned when pilots suddenly vanished, and the planes went down.

  They left all of their possessions behind, once again proving that he who dies with the most toys still dies.

  At NFL headquarters in New York City, the commissioner retrieved the printout of the itineraries of each traveling team. From what he could see, two were traveling by train, one by bus and eleven by air. If the printout was correct, which the commissioner was certain it was, of the eleven teams using air transportation, eight were already en route to their destinations.

  Were they safe? With no way of communicating with anyone, the commissioner feared the worst. It would be a long night at NFL headquarters...

  Within 24 hours, the commissioner’s fears would turn into relief upon learning that all eight airborne planes had indeed landed safely. But six flights were diverted to other airports. The other three teams never even took off, which was a blessing. At least they were safe.

  But not all news would be good. By late tomorrow they would learn that roughly 10 percent of the league’s players had apparently vanished—superstar and bench warmer alike!

  Come Monday morning, the commissioner would be forced to postpone the remainder of the season. Who in their right mind would be in the mood for football after what had just transpired?

  Both the National Basketball Association’s (NBA) and the National Hockey League’s (NHL) seasons were also in full swing. Tragically, both leagues would soon confirm that not only had they lost players, via disapp
earances, some were killed in plane crashes.

  As soon as communications were back up and running, their sources would confirm two NBA teams—the Indiana Pacers and the Golden State Warriors—were both airborne when pilots of those planes suddenly disappeared. Their airplanes fell to the Earth scattering bits and pieces all over the countryside, sparing not a soul on board.

  The plane carrying the Warriors was en route to Denver to play the Nuggets. It crashed into the Rocky Mountains in Central Colorado.

  Even more tragic was the plane carrying the Indiana Pacers basketball team to Dallas, Texas to play the Mavericks. Circling the Dallas vicinity on final descent, both pilots disappeared. The plane went down in Grand Prairie, a heavily populated location west of Dallas.

  With more than 3,000 pounds of jet fuel still inside the aircraft’s tanks, two neighborhood blocks were doused in flames and instantly incinerated, causing many more deaths.

  The NHL would also have tragic news to report. One of their most storied franchises, the Montreal Canadiens, were en route to Toronto, Canada, to play the Maple Leafs, when the plane went down. Needless to say, there were no survivors.

  The only good news was that it crashed into a farming field in a scarcely populated part of the Canadian countryside, roughly 100 miles northeast of Toronto.

  News would also surface in the coming days that some of the planet’s greatest baseball and soccer players also vanished and perished. Four soccer teams were airborne when their planes suddenly became pilot-less. Everyone on board was killed. And two professional baseball teams—one from the Dominican Republic, the other from Venezuela—shared the same tragic fate.

  It would be a long time before the sports scene—collegiate or professional—resembled anything close to what it once was, if ever...