No Exit by Taylor Adams 2

Strangely, though, her body itself didn’t feel cold. Her
blood was hot with adrenaline. She felt radioactive. She didn’t
even have gloves, but she felt like she could spend all night
out here.
Crossing the section of the parking lot designated for RVs
and semi trucks, she was close enough now to the building that
she could discern seated figures through the smudged glass.
She saw Ashley’s shoulder. The top of Ed’s balding head. No
sign of Lars, though, which suddenly worried her. What if he’d
followed her outside after all? What if he’d just exited the
building when she was behind it, and he was tracking her
footprints right now, creeping behind her in the darkness?
She couldn’t decide what was scarier — seeing Rodent
Face, or not seeing him. Her hot chocolate would soon freeze
in its cup.
She kept moving toward that mysterious van, and the
stupid cartoon fox floated closer with every lurching step. That
slogan: WE FINISH WHAT WE START. The powder on the
parking lot was shallower; only ankle-deep under a skin of ice.
It had been plowed within the last twenty-four hours, which
was reassuring. Approaching from the left, she used the van’s
long side as cover.
She approached the van’s rear doors. A Chevrolet Astro.
She assumed AWD stood for all-wheel-drive. An older model,
judging by the hard wear. Dirty scrapes on the bumper.
Charcoal gray paint, peeling off in crunchy blisters. To the
right, she recognized the faint outline of her own footprints
from an hour ago, passing between the van and her Honda, and
pausing right here. This was where it happened. This was
where her night took a hard turn.
And now, this was her moment of truth.
She set her Styrofoam cup in the snow and leaned up to
the Astro’s rectangular back windows, half-obscured with
knives of creeping frost. She cupped her hands to the glass
again and peered inside. It was even darker than she’d