No Exit by Taylor Adams 2

“No, Darby—”
“Please, tell me about your favorite one, the Eustreptothing—”
“I don’t want to—”
The tears came to Darby now, now of all times. Hard,
choking sobs, like a seizure in her chest. She turned away. She
couldn’t let Jay see.
Then Jay shifted her weight, and Darby thought the girl
was only settling in her lap — until she felt something touch
her left palm. Small, metallic, ice-cold.
Her Swiss Army knife. She’d forgotten all about it.
“Later,” Jay whispered. “I’ll tell you about it later.”
Darby looked back at her, understanding in a silent flash.
Those glassy blue eyes now pleading into hers: Here’s your
knife back.
Please don’t give up.
But it was too little, too late, because the two-inch blade
was better in Jay’s hands than hers. Knife or no knife, Darby
was about to die in this room. She was trapped here, with her
shattered hand locked in a door, and Ashley was coming back
to finish her off. Any second now.
“You should keep the knife,” she said to Jay. “It’ll … it’ll
just be wasted with me. You’re going to save yourself now.
You understand?”
“I don’t think I can—”
“It’s all you now.” Darby blinked away tears and racked
her brain, trying to recall the layout of their Astro, whispering
so Lars wouldn’t overhear: “I … okay. You broke the kennel,
so they’ll probably tie you down in the back, under the
windows. But try to loosen a panel on the wall, and if you can
reach inside, rip out every wire you can find. One of them
might power the brake lights. And if the brake lights go out,
the cops might pull them over …”