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

for about three sizing-up seconds from both sides, the China Cabinet Boys slowly but surely removed the cabinet from in front of the door.
       The lumberjack biker reached underneath his gut and came back with a small, shiny .380 reserve pistol; a girly gun for such a manly man. “We got a boat to catch.”

CHAPTER 15
     
     
       The smoke cleared, but the rainwater bucketed down.
       “Wait a minute.” Maria said, steering her head around the corner of the dupe. She turned back to Rebekah, eyes wide.  “Sworn’s men.” she said.
       “How many,” Rebekah asked.             
       “Four. But there has to be others nearby, maybe surrounding us now.”
       Rebekah pulled the poncho’s hood over her head, moved into Maria’s position and peeped around the corner, turned back to Maria. “Okay. I’ll take care of it.”
       Ann was behind Maria. She said, “What do you mean, take care of it? Just let them do their rounds and then—”
       “Can’t do that,” Rebekah said. “They’re baiting them in.” She looked to Maria. “When I give you the signal, get everyone up the street as fast as you can. Keep your eyes open in the rear for Trackers. They’re around here somewhere, which mean Bleeders are too.”  
       Maria nodded, and with a wave of her hand, motioned for Baker.
       Ann said, “We’ve seen this before. They spread out in three groups of four. Their vans must be nearby.”
       Rebekah looked to Ann’s hunting knife. “Can I hold that for a while?”
       “Sure.”
       Ann handed Rebekah the blade. She put it in her lower-back, looked to the group.
       It could have been a block party the way they filled the streets. It was either that or a reenactment of The Gangs of New York , the contemporary version, Before the Battle . Hell, it was both. A new age party gang before the battle. The China Cabinet Boys held a tire iron each, an average built guy wearing a soaked Oakland Athletics jersey two sizes too big – with even bigger blue jeans – gripped a Louisville Slugger in both hands. Some young trendy kid in a green and yellow striped shirt, tight, red denim jeans and a dog chain hanging from his belt loop, down his thigh, going back up into his back pocket, carried a fire axe. Even the girl in the parka – her face shielded by its furry hood – held a ridged 12’ kitchen knife. Jim and Girder stood just behind Ann, game face on, guns gripped, ready to do the damn thing. Others had rusty pipes or bricks, hammers and saws, blunt objects and such. And the few that held firearms were pulling up in the rear of their fortified regiment, from revolver pistols to banned fully-automatics.
       And Baker, running through the crowd, smelling like everything the garbage regurgitated, informing the mob of their new objective and possible threat.
       Then, Rebekah hit the corner.
       Ann tapped Maria’s shoulder, lifted a brow. “What’s the signal?”
       Maria, stunned, said, “I guess we’ll find out,” and stuck her head around the corner.

CHAPTER 16
     
     
       Rebekah walked center street, hands high. The heavy rain outlined her clothes in a mystique, highlighted, protective aqua colored aura. Three of the marks – all four, black fatigues and reinforced vests – raised their MTAR 21s, and with their flashlight attachments, held her under a three-man spotlight.
       “Hold it right there, miss!” one exclaimed, advancing on her position.
       She kept walking toward them.
       “Ma’am,” he enforced. “Stop where you are. Are you infected?”
       The other two, beaming their flashlights, followed. The fourth stayed behind with the bag, reaching at his ear to hit the talk button on his communicator.
       “No.” Rebekah answered, however, moving forward, hands still rose. “But—”
       “But… nothing. Miss, on the ground! Now!” he ordered, still advancing.
       The other two caught up. Now, the three of them