Page 121 of The Presidents Shadow

THE EXPLOSION IS so powerful, so deafening, that the earth vibrates and trees fall around us.

Jagged fractures split the ground. The fissures look like riverbeds gone dry. They grow deeper and deeper, wider and wider. Then the cracked earth begins spitting out fire. The trembling of the land beneath us is relentless.

Shiwan Khan falls to the ground just as the fierce flames from the fire begin shooting increasingly upward. More trees fall. More crevices appear and crack open.

Yes. Like Kyoto. Yes. Like Harvard. The bad memories grab and dazzle my brain, my mind, my life.

Then… amid all the unbelievable chaos, something even more unbelievable happens.

I witness a sight that should be totally satisfying. It is, however, so frightening that it actually stuns me.

A fissure widens precisely next to where Khan has fallen. He tries to rise but loses his balance. For a millisecond, he pinwheels his arms, trying to regain his balance, but to no avail. He free-falls into the horrid fire below.

If there really is a hell, I hope Khan’s final breath will be like living in it.

I, of course, realize that the end of my own life is probably just moments away.

Because I am already on the ground and no fissures have opened near me, my own destruction has been only momentarily postponed.

But my safety cannot last much longer. I, too, am destined to fall into the fire.

I consider this the worst possibility—to die alongside Khan.

The flames rage, growing higher and higher above the ground.

Then the sky quickly turns gray, then black.

And then, quite suddenly, the earth ceases its wicked vibration. There comes a stillness in the land, a stillness in the air.

Then rain. More rain. Torrents of rain.

I stretch out. I am on my back. The rain washes over me.

The rain stops.

Beside me Terrageddon lies, cracked and smoking, devoid of power.

Finally, it’s over.