The Effacing (Book 1.5): Valley's End by T. Anwar Clark Page B

to me. My father gave him to me on my 18 th ,” she said of her firearm. “I wouldn’t leave him anywhere I wasn’t coming back. I wouldn’t hear the last of it.” She tightened her grip, released Neshia’s hand and exited the vehicle, advising the truck bed passengers, more women than children, to remain silent as she marched toward the dusty blue taxi.
       Simultaneously, Ann and Maria emerged from their vehicle. Maria, wiping down her tacky, sky blue, long sleeve t-shirt, tugging on her utility belt of multiple cartridge pouches and holstered .9mm. Her blue jeans, cross colored, with dried body fluids from their earlier encounter with their fiendish enemies. Ann, with a crafty expression that told Rebekah she had something up her sleeve, used both hands to pull her brunette hair back into a small ponytail, and then let it fall back in place. Her way of stretching, fatigued from the excitement – sort of like how one would be after a fight, the loser most likely falls asleep. Her shirt and blue jeans, which held cartridge pouches and a small hunting knife, also, very much stained. Both ladies donned in bullet proof vests, met Rebekah at the cab.
       Rebekah wasn’t the best of friends with Ann and Maria; they were accompanied by Dale and Mike Ashe shortly after the storm, introduced by another member of their group, Jon Wardwell. Jon, in search of his daughter, Diana, thought she might have retreated to Rebekah’s house back in Diamond Manor. Shortly after, Ann suspected Rebekah was after Mike, and Maria supported her on the suspicions. Now, they were seemingly coming along – verbally combative – but even together they were still no match for Rebekah. If there was not a better time to coin the phrase, if you can’t beat ‘em join ‘em , Maria and Ann would be its protégés of example, if they screwed around with Rebekah the wrong way, at the wrong time.
      “Why’d we stop?” Ann questioned. “You know the sun’s going down.” she said, before Rebekah could mutter a word to the husky cab driver.
       The cab driver lowered his window, eyes content. With a scar on his face that began at his chin, and curved in a crescent shape that stopped dead center of his third eye, curly hair and a fresh edge-up, thick eyebrows and funny eyes, he was a machine, Neshia, would call his type.  He sucked on his teeth like chewed meat was chiseled somewhere in between them. A hard rock of the sort, he appeared to have a chip on his shoulder. Spat some thick, yellowish phlegm on the asphalt ahead of him, right close to Rebekah’s black flats, after he fished out the invisible piece of meat.
      Rebekah looked to the cab driver, and then back to Ann, figured, just a regular old tough guy thing, although she’d took offence. “Up ahead… there’s a group of them crossing the road. I stopped to let them pass before we go any further. You should tell your group to keep quiet until then.”
      Ann gave Maria that look, the one that said , just do it. We’ll kick her ass together, later .
       Maria acknowledged, nodded her head and urgently made her way back to the truck. She might not have liked Rebekah on and off, but she didn’t want to risk jeopardizing the group by being objective and creating a scene over something as small as, tell your group to be quiet . She held her silence although she would have preferred Rebekah advised them herself.
      “Let’s blow through.” Ann suggested.
      “No. That won’t work. It’s too risky for the group. We should wait a minute.” Rebekah proposed.
      “What happens if they spot us?” the husky driver of the cab asked.
      “As long as we don’t do anything to attract them we’re fine.” Ann answered. “The only other option’s a no-brainer.”
      A rusted creaking sound developed. The passenger side door of the cab opened, and then both rear doors. The men stepped out, military issued bullet proof vests on top of black hoods, wearing black jeans and