Anne nodded in agreement as she undid her seatbelt and reached for the car door. "Oh yeah, right back to the car." The two women hadn't known each other for very long, but they didn't have much trouble getting onto the same page in matters of survival. Anne spared a glance back toward the dogs, who were excitedly shifting in their seats at the chance they might get to step outside. She also appeared to be looking past them at something else. "Pop the trunk, would you? My tools are still in my bag." With that said, she stepped out into the sweltering heat to gather her things.<br/><br/>The "tools" in Anne's duffel bag turned out to be a rather small pistol, which she immediately stuffed into her right pocket, and a long machete with a plastic handle that she seemed content to hold in her right hand. The weapon was dull with use and rusted with age, giving it a menacing, if not practical quality. As soon as the bag had been zipped up and slung over her shoulder, the older woman reached for the car door her shepherd was impatiently pawing at. "Soon as we leash these guys, we gotta get inside quick, okay? This asphalt'll melt the skin right off their feet."