Even in the relative isolation of bush Alaska there never seems to be enough time.

Here in Eek, Alaska snow still drifts several feet high and covers the ground as far as one can see.  The river is still a frozen trail that zigzags by the village.  You can still ice fish up here, but the days are getting longer.  However, that doesn’t mean I have enough daylight to get everything done.  Each day just seems longer and busier. 

On Sunday’s though, I make sure I write and try, very hard, to catch up on projects.  I am just about done with chapter 23 of my, as yet unnamed, post-apocalyptic novel.  My plan remains to release the novel in July or early August of this year.

The novel starts with a short prologue at the Capitol building on the night of the State of the Union address.  A terrorist nuclear attack that night kills the President, his cabinet, the Vice President, senators, representatives, Supreme Court Justices and the Joint Chiefs of Staff as they gather for the President’s speech. 

Here is the moment of the attack in Chapter one as seen by my protagonist, Caden Westmore.

The night flashed as bright as a desert noon. Light penetrated his suit and warmed his back like a hot summer day. He squinted then closed his eyes tight. Even with eyelids firmly shut, a blood red glow filled his vision. He flung his arm across his face.  It was brighter than the brightest day.  The phone squealed.  He jerked it away. Then there was silence. Tentatively he opened his eyes as all the world seemed to wait—but for what?

            “Becky? Becky?” He glanced down.  The phone seemed to be off.  He pushed the button, but it did not turn on.  He dropped it into his pocket. What happened? 

            The crackling of a rifle shot ricocheted around him. But unlike a rifle shot the sound did not fade, it grew and echoed through the streets. He turned left and right trying to see where it came from when a boom like none he had ever heard reverberated through him. He stumbled. Regained his footing and wiped his eyes only to have wind slap him several steps down the street. Dust hung in the air. Car alarms and people screamed. Caden’s eyes darted left and right. Dozens stood like him, confused statues. Never-ending rolling thunder filled the night.  Wind slapped his face. 

            Several feet away a woman screamed. Caden followed her terrified gaze. His heart pounded. As if the gates of hell had been thrown open and out from the very bowels a satanic belch of fire and light raced towards the heavens. Lightning crackled across the sky in a dozen directions as he watched in disbelief. A boiling mushroom cloud formed in the southern night sky.

After witnessing the destruction of the capital city, Caden embarks on a journey to his boyhood home in Washington State, but over the next few days terrorists attack other cities and society starts to unravel.