The Effacing (Book 1.5): Valley's End by T. Anwar Clark Read Free Book Online Page A

of whatever else poured down slapping his head as a note to self, if you ever get out of this, promise you’ll listen to your elders for now on . He could have just fell and found his way back to the surface, but he was afraid of what he might have encountered below the city, in a dark and creepy, wet tunnel, filling with more of the filth that collected on his baggy attire. Plus, if the water reached above his 5ft. 7in. height, he couldn’t swim, and he would have perished, succumbed in a shitty departure. Then, the loaded gun in his waist slipped down his leg, and plopped into the underground river. A sign he didn’t require the company, perchance.
       “Maria!” Baker called.
       She looked back, and although she did not see anyone, this time she recognized Baker’s plead to be Baker, and waited to hear where his hollow voice arose.
       “Help!” he whimpered, struggling to maintain his grip until help arrived.
       The water was not going to let up as long as the rain continued, and even then, it wouldn’t stop for some long period of time after. Baker begun to slip further, lost his grip. Caught the tarmac just at the edge, straining, tugging, as if he’d done more than enough reps on a pull-up bar and unable to stick his chin above it, while the H2O played Crabs in the Bucket with his hoe-card.
       Then he lost his clutch entirely.             
      Maria grabbed his wrist just as he let go, pulled him up and out the manhole, coldly looked him in the eye and said, “Come on. Maybe next time you’ll listen and stay put. Now stick with me, we have to hurry.”
       Baker nodded in agreement. Maria thought of whacking his ass one good time, and then decided to chew him out later.
       She turned back to The End.
       Baker gazed to the heaven above, lipped, “Thank you!” and took off behind her.
      He’d gotten to the center of the street, behind a doo-doo brown, antique car-truck, abandoned, doors ajar and sitting on flat tires, looked inside the driver’s side door to find the mustard yellow leather upholstery had been repeatedly sliced, as if someone knew about 50K being stashed somewhere in the bucket seats but was never found. Maybe it was. The damp padding unleashed a foul odor and a couple loose singles that he picked up and shoved in his soaked pocket. How many people do you know would have done that? Who could blame him? What would you do?
       He looked up at the fiery apartment complex he’d barely recognized from the damage, face showered with the driving rain; and a notorious rumble shook the dampened ground. A quaking thunder followed by an intense strobe-affecting lightning that struck harder than before.
       During the strike, he witnessed heavy smoke begin to exit the building from its furthest, tailed by more increasing flames. He looked to Maria. She neared the entrance of the leading connecting building. He rushed to keep up.
       The furthest building began to crumble from the inside-out. Maria stopped in her tracks, from beyond the inconvenient darkness of the apartments opening, dust and pebbles sprinkling on the concrete before her. Heard the voice of her cousin’s squealing echoing from a distance, and growing, “We’re almost there!” through the doorway.
       Maria charged the door, stood amid the shade and night, hot dust and burning debris. “I’m here! Through here! Hurry, the building’s collapsing.” she yelled, more anxious of her confidant’s returned than fretful of what dangers the wave of sand and rock fragments could instill upon her life.
        “Run!” Rebekah spilled back, as they closed in.
       Maria stuck her wet head deeper into the darkened doorway, a heavy smoke seeped out of the hall. At the end of The End, the whole building, falling apart, the heavy smog attached to it, spreading out across the vicinity.
       Then, a small, wet hand grabbed her wrist.
       “Let’s go!” Baker squeezed and tugged.