No Exit by Taylor Adams 2

It swiped her hair.
He lunged after her, off-balance from his swing, the rock
banging off the wall to his left, leaving a ceramic chip. He hit
his knees and watched her break away and sprint down the
restroom, toward that little triangular window, with the plastic
bag fluttering behind her. She won’t make it, he told himself.
But in another instant, she’d vaulted up to the window frame,
caught herself by her fingernails, and hurled her body through
the tiny opening like a gymnast. Ankles up, then out.
Just like that.
She was gone.
Ashley Garver was suddenly alone in the restroom. He
staggered upright, nearly slipping on the bloodstained Ziploc
bag.
It didn’t matter, he realized, slicking his hair back with a
palm, catching his breath. He’d assigned Lars outside the back
wall, by the stacked picnic tables, for this very situation. His
brother, armed with that trusty Beretta Cougar, was the
backup. Darby had escaped his kill zone in the restroom, yes,
but in doing so she’d practically dropped herself into Lars’s
arms, and now she was be too weak to effectively fight back—
The restroom door banged open behind him. He whirled,
expecting to see the befuddled face of Ed, here to investigate
the racket, and he already had a story prepared — I slipped on
the wet floor, I think I hit my head — only it wasn’t Ed
standing there in the doorway.
It was Lars.
Ashley kicked the plastic bag. “Oh, come on.”
“You sounded like you, ah, needed help—”
“Yes. I needed you out there.”
“Oh—”
“Out there.” Ashley pointed furiously. “Outside, not
inside.”