No Exit by Taylor Adams 2

“Reminds me of a joke. What does Ford stand for?”
“I don’t know.”
“Found on road, dead.”
Sandi grunted and kept reading.
Finally, Ashley took the hint. “Sorry. I’ll let you read.”
Lars watched this interaction from the door. He licked his
lips, and Darby was struck by how small his teeth were. Just
two little rows of stunted kernels, like baby teeth, half-formed,
still encased in pink gums. He gulped the last of his COCO
and threw his empty Styrofoam cup at the garbage can,
missing by three full feet.
No one commented on this.
Not even Ashley.
Darby watched the white cup twirl on the tile and
considered — assuming her suspicions were confirmed —
maybe she’d be able to break into Lars’s van and quietly move
the child into her Honda. Hide him or her in the back seat,
perhaps, under the heap of butcher paper she used for her
gravestone rubbings. Or better yet, the trunk — if there was
enough oxygen and heat. When the snowplows arrived early
tomorrow morning, everyone could go their separate ways,
and Lars might drive away without even realizing his prey had
escaped—
No. That was wishful thinking. Since they’d be stranded
here all night, Lars would have to run his engine periodically
to keep the child warm. He would notice his captive had
disappeared.
She took in a rattling breath. She counted to five before
letting it out, just as her mother once taught her.
Right now, the advantage is mine.
I can’t waste it.
She wished it could be someone else in this situation.
Someone smarter, braver, steadier, more capable. Someone