The Beginning of the End (Book 2): Toward the Brink II by Craig A. McDonough Page A

range.
    “Allan, you stay here with your shotgun and protect the vehicles, okay?”
    “You got it, Chuck!” Allan gave a confident thumbs-up before taking a combat stance beside the entrance of the motor home. Remington 870 in hand, he would not let anyone get past him.
    “Roger, you keep an eye on your flank with your shotgun.”
    A single nod was all the confirmation the Tall Man got—or needed—from Roger.
    The sound of human voices and gunfire incensed the ravenous swarm beyond. A faint humming sound was heard over the gunfire, from the direction of the mutants.
    Buzzing with anticipation of the feast before them, the mutant children moved faster, their actions frenzied.
    The volley of shots fired wasn’t ineffective by any means. As each 5.56mm round left the barrel, a mutant fell by the wayside, with David the only one who missed on occasion. But their effort had no substantial effect—at least none they could see. Fear of death wasn’t a deterrent.
    “There’s too many, we’ll have to make a run for it,” Mulhaven said as he swapped out magazines.
    “No chance. They’ll be on us before we get the engines started!”
    “We need more firepower, Chuck, and more than the four of us!”
    Elliot was also aware of the numbers imbalance. No matter how many were shot, the rest kept coming. And worse, there seemed to be more, a never-ending wall of mutant children in boxers.
    “Roger, take this!” The Tall Man held out his AR-15 then darted for the motor home. “Let’s get the rest of the rifles, Allan!”
    Allan grabbed the last two AR-15s while the Tall Man picked up the Weatherby .340 Magnum.
    “What can I do?” Cindy moved from the driver’s seat to the rear.
    “You can stay in here and keep safe.”
    Allan and the Tall Man grabbed extra magazines and headed back to the fray.
    “He’s just too damn bossy!” Cindy said … after the door was closed.
    Allan took position alongside the others and opened fire. No second thoughts this time, he knew what was right. Besides, it wasn’t like he was shooting at people.
    The Tall Man stood and placed well-aimed shots to the heads of the mutated hordes. The .340 Magnum was a formidable weapon, even more so in the hands of the Tall Man.
    “Get in the vehicles!” The Tall Man had a revelation of sorts. The mutants were an out-of-control flood and the Tall Man, Elliot, and company were the doomed village in the path of the coming devastation.
    “But you just said …” Mulhaven questioned.
    “I know what I fuckin’ said, now just get in!”
    Cindy paid attention to the conflict. She wasted no time and had the motor home started and ready to go before any of the men had taken a step. Next, the engine of the van roared to life. Margaret had slipped through the front of the home into the van.
    “All right, girls!” David yelled then ran for the Hummer.
    “Okay, let’s move, move, move!” Mulhaven sounded like he had during his old sergeant days in the army.
    They split up. The Tall Man took the motor home. It would take the longest to pick up speed, and if these pygmy-sized fuckers were going to make ground, then it would be on the motor home.
    He got to the back door of the home when he heard the unmistakable roar of a jet, turning and burning, followed by the equally unmistakable WHOOSH of missiles as they were launched. There was no time, no time at all. The spearhead of the column of mutants was a hundred yards away. It would be a close call, too close—they might even be the target.
    “Down! Get fucking …”

Twenty-Nine
    The president felt his blood boil. He glared over at Etheridge, who, for the first time since his teens, could not look another man in the eye. As he clenched his fists tighter to control the trembling, the president debated in his mind whether to initiate an attack. He could grab Etheridge by the collar of his expensive suit, pull him on top of his own body, and then let out a cry for help. The Secret Service detail outside