No Exit by Taylor Adams 2

quivered with sweaty tension, and the pin creaked, and now
she was committed and couldn’t stop …
Darby, you’re going to die tonight.
CLICK.
The door unlocked.
Her heartbeat accelerating, Darby grabbed the door handle
and wrenched it open, and to her horror, the Astro’s dome light
kicked on. A glaring brightness.
* * *
Larson Garver saw a light outside.
He was slouching by the brochure rack, studying the
Colorado Air pamphlet and trying to tell if their Robinson
turbine copter was an R66 or an R44, when he noticed it.
Glimmering at the edge of his peripheral vision. A soundless
little flash from the parked cars, reflected backwards on the
window. From his van.
He felt a knot of panic tighten in his gut.
The rest of the room was oblivious. Ashley and Ed’s card
game continued, their voices a gentle back-and-forth:
“Nine of diamonds?”
“Agh. You got me.”
Lars held his breath. His angle on the unknown light
outside wasn’t good enough; it could just be a reflection on the
glass. So he stuffed the Colorado Air brochure into his pocket
— where it would join Springs Scenic (a Cessna 172) and
Rocky Vistas (a DHC-3 Otter) — and he hurried to the
paneled window, craning his neck for a clearer view—
* * *
Darby found the dome light button and punched it off.
Darkness again.
Holy shit. She gasped, her heart thudding, her eardrums
ringing, full of blood. That had been stupid. Reckless.