The American Truth

Nathan sprinted toward the damaged area.

“Sir!” A security officer stopped Nathan by outstretching his
arm. “You can’t go any farther.”

“My wife’s in there!”

“All access to the building is restricted.”

“I’ve got to make sure she’s alright.” Nathan pushed
forward.

The security officer forced his palm into Nathan’s chest,
preventing him for entering the building. “If your wife’s still in
there, our people will get her out.”

Nathan turned around and sprinted to the parking lot, praying
she got out before the fires started. He frantically scanned the
tops of the heads of the crowd that had gathered, desperately
looking for his wife’s golden blonde hair. Please, he pleaded
silently. Please.

His search became increasingly intense with every passing
second. He lost all sense of time. He had never known such
anxiety-- his heart slammed against his ribs, and his stomach
twisted and churned.

As he searched the far side of the lot, a television reporter stuck
a microphone in front of his face. Nathan, a communications

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The above text is copyrighted material that appears in The American Truth by Nick Shelton. Reproduction of this text is prohibited.