NEXT BEST HOPE (The Revelation Trilogy) by Stephen Woodfin Read Free Book Online Page A

the street outside the entrance to the park, pickets had appeared while the President and his party were in the cemetery. Angry marchers shook signs in the air: “Get right with God, Bass,” “Bass is the Great Satan,” “Take Back Our Country, Christian Militants,” “We’re Leaving. You Can Have it.”
    When BB pulled out the front drive, demonstrators pounded on the side of his truck and struck his windows with the palms of their hands. A hail of eggs splattered on his windshield. Nate lowered the front seat passenger window and started to stick his automatic weapon out the window.
    “Don’t, Nate,” President Whitfield said. “I’m not going to rule this country with guns. Stop the car, BB.”
    “I don’t think that’s wise, sir,” Leadoff said.
    “It’s not,” Bass said, “But I’m still working on wise.”
    To the amazement of the demonstrators, the truck stopped dead in its tracks in the middle of the angry crowd. Bass Whitfield opened his door and stepped out on the pavement. The crowd stared at him but kept its distance. Bass, in no apparent hurry, moved to the back of the truck, let down the tailgate and climbed up into the bed of the truck. He scanned the crowd slowly, making eye contact with every single person. Then he took off his hat and pointed towards the national cemetery.
    “Ladies and Gentlemen, I have just come from one of the most sacred spots in the history of our great country, a spot where patriots from the North and South fell by the tens of thousands in a vain attempt to solve their political, moral, and religious differences with the sword. Today at this holy place, I hope that all of us may learn from their deaths, may learn that respect for each other and the way of peace will keep us strong and that violence accomplishes nothing but destruction. I urge each of you here to beat your swords into ploughshares, to help me bind up our nation’s wounds, to put her on the road to even greater glory that she may shine as a beacon of hope to all the peoples of the world.
    “Finally, I have one selfish request.”
    The crowd had fallen silent as each person edged closer to the President to hear him speak.
    “That request is that each of you, in whatever way you feel proper, pray for me that God may grant me the wisdom to govern and the courage to follow His guidance.
    “God bless the United States of America.”
    He stepped down from the truck bed, raised the tailgate, walked back to the rear passenger door of the truck where Nate held the door open for him and got in. As BB inched the big truck forward through the crowd, Bass rolled down his window and waved to the crowd until he could no longer see them.
    When they were out of danger, Leadoff turned to President Whitfield. “Mr. President, that was the second great presidential address at Gettysburg.”
    Bass Whitfield nodded at him and looked out the window at the countryside. He didn’t speak again for a long time.

CHAPTER 14
     
    A BALD, THREE -hundred-pound man smoking a cigar sat under a suspended microphone with a headset on. As the calls came in to his talk radio show, his crew screened them and put the good ones through to him.
    “This is America’s Voice of Truth. You are on the air with its founder and president, Flash Greenwald,” he said.
    “Flash,” the caller began. “Love your show. Did you hear President Bass got mauled by an angry crowd outside Gettysburg cemetery today? Don’t you think that’s pretty reckless on his part with all that has happened recently?”
    “I think it’s outrageous,” Flash said. “The last thing the President needs to be doing right now is giving somebody a chance to take a potshot at him. He ought to know better. I think it reflects poorly on his judgment and his ability to lead the country.”
    Next caller.
    “Flash, the Christian Militants are organizing secession conventions in several states? What do you think about it?”
    “More power to them,” Flash