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a pile of ammo at our ready.  The humans—no offense Dr. Andrews and Paulie….”
    “No, none taken,” both men stammered knowing full well their skills were not military-based at all.
    “They can be our runners in case someone needs backup or ammo.  I say we just tick them off one at a time as they pop their bloody heads out of the bushes.  The faster we do that, the more fear we’ll strike in the group and hopefully we can get them to retreat long enough for us to run.  If they don’t retreat, then I’ll just have to take them all out so there will be no one left to hunt us.” Creed shrugged nonchalantly as if he had just suggested they all go for a stroll on the beach after dinner.   
    More wide-eyed staring came from his enrapt audience.
    “Oh yeah!  Now, that’s what I call a plan! ” Alik grinned and smacked Creed on the back.
    “You mean we’ll ,” Meg said coolly, eyes never leaving Creed’s chiseled face.
    “No, I mean I’ll . ” He knew exactly what part of his speech she was stuck on.  He reached out and handed Meg a headset he had pulled from one of the bags.  “You wear this and give me any hints you can as to where the rabid dogs are, and I’ll take them out.”
    “How do you plan to do that?” Meg asked, already fearing the answer.
    “With this,” Creed held up his Dragunov sniper rifle, “I’m going to be up in one of the trees out there, ready to eliminate them one by one.”
    “Creed, no!” Meg gasped, sure he was living out the fatal devotion she already sensed in him. 
    “This is what I’ve been trained my whole life to do, Meg.  I’m the best.  You don’t need to worry about me.  Besides, I’ll have an extrasensory set of eyes helping me know where my targets are.”  His deep-blue eyes connected with hers and in them, she saw her world.  He offered his disarming crooked grin as he put his own headset on.  “It’ll be okay,” he nodded and sent Meg waves of reassuring emotions down an emotional tie she didn’t even know she had with him.
    “Okay, the clock is ticking,” Paulie called from the corner of the room as he clutched his hunting rifle.
     

Chapter 6  Plan B
     
    Over the next thirty minutes the house was tense with work.  The windows and doors were barricaded shut with anything the family could get their hands on.  Even Dr. Paulie’s surf boards didn’t escape use as they were hammered into place across doors.  (All except his favorite one.  No one had the heart to do that to the old guy.)  Furniture was shoved against windows, offering both protection from incoming fire and a way to obscure a shooter from inside.  Each meta was assigned a position facing the most likely angle of attack.  Farrow and Cole were moved to a small room in the center of the house that had no windows—assuring them the best protection.  Neither of them had awakened, but there wasn’t time to worry about that now.
    With periodic checks, Meg kept tabs on Williams and his soldiers—whom they had all taken to calling his “rabid dogs.” They were already at the airport, landing.  Their ETA was fifteen minutes, as far as she could tell.
    Everyone was ready.  Well, as ready as you can be for a squadron of mindless, bloodthirsty mutant metas to come attack you in your home.  Maze was right at Meg’s side as she sat on the floor by her assigned window with a pile of clips within arm’s reach.   Meg absently patted her coyote’s fur and felt the canine’s muscles twitch nervously beneath her hand. 
    “It’s gonna be okay, buddy.  We’ve been in scrapes before, haven’t we?  We’ll get through this one, too.”  Maze knew there was more wrong than just the guns draped in everyone’s hands.  He knew Meg was hurting deep inside from her little excursion into Williams’ ninth circle of hell.  He whined at her and blinked his crisp yellow eyes slowly.  Meg hugged him.
    Creed was positioned toward the top of a koa tree that provided thick