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

quality food, and some new friends, their future seemed brighter already.
    The sun no longer looked sad as it shone down upon the three vehicles as they made their way north toward Canada—and another chance at life.

Eleven
    Next morning, after his first good sleep since the crisis in Idaho started, the president sat down to read through the first editions of the newspapers with his first cup of coffee, a daily ritual for US presidents since George Washington took office. The headline of the Washington Post jumped out at him, causing him to spill his coffee over his pants. He grabbed the interoffice cell phone and immediately called his chief of staff.
    “Have you seen the paper, Tom?” the president said as soon as the phone was answered. “No? Then you better go take a look, but let me give you the headline: ‘Ebola Outbreak, State Decimated’.”
    “What? Ebola? Who reported that, sir?” Tom was half asleep.
    “It’s on the front page of the Post, and the Washington Times has a similar headline. It’s interesting that none of the New York papers mentions anything like it.”
    “Ebola … Where would they get an idea like that from?”
    “Oh my God!”
    “What is it, sir? What’s wrong?”
    “There’s a quote here. I’ll read part of it. ‘If the situation is as untenable as it’s presumed to be, then we may not have any other option other than a tactical nuclear strike to prevent the spread of the disease.’ End quote.”
    Tom fell silent for a moment. There was only one person in the government who supported such a measure.
    “Hadlee?”
    “You’re damn right it was Hadlee!” The president fumed. “Tom? … Tom? Are you still there?”
    “Is his resignation on your desk as asked, sir?”
    “Damn! I had such a good sleep I’d forgotten about it, give me a moment …”
    The president came back to the phone a few seconds later. “No, Tom. It’s not.”
    “You have to have him silenced, sir, there is no other choice … and sir?” Tom’s voice lowered. “The sooner the better, for all our sakes.”
    The president had never thought he would hear his chief of staff of so many years suggest such a thing.
    “What the hell do I do now?” the president asked aloud after he ended the call.
    He walked over to his desk, paused for a moment, and spoke into the intercom. “Have Richard Holmes from DTRA brought up here … now!”
    When you’re in hell, you may as well shake hands with the devil.

Twelve
    On the same morning, a few hours later and on the other side of the country near Lolo Pass, Montana, Elliot woke his friends for another day of uncertainty. Before nightfall, they’d pulled off US 93 onto a side road and parked among a clump of tall pines. They were a good distance from any population center, and there were no farmhouses nearby. No people meant no foamers, and that was how they wanted it. The motor home afforded a good night’s sleep, and the warm water and meals lifted everyone’s spirits.
    “If we stay on the 93, we should make it to a place called Windermere Lake or nearby today,” Mulhaven said over a breakfast of eggs and toast. The eggs and bread wouldn’t last, but they had adopted a “use it or lose it” policy. Besides, they might be able to get a hot meal again in Canada. “I don’t know how badly Canada’s been affected by all this, but this lake area shouldn’t be populated.”
    “It makes sense to avoid cities and towns—anywhere there’s a population, there’s trouble,” the Tall Man said.
    “We should get some more clothes, warmer clothes. We’ll probably need them,” Elliot mentioned. He felt a slight chill.
    “We’ll do that, but right now, I think you need some beauty sleep, son. Well … just make it plain ol’ sleep!” Mulhaven made a joke of it but was concerned over Elliot’s lack of sleep in the past twenty—four hours.
    They all laughed. It felt good to laugh, and they knew it wouldn’t last, but it was the best medicine they