No Exit by Taylor Adams 2

ten feet off the tile floor. Like a jailhouse window, minus the
bars. She’d remembered this, because it seemed like a detail
others would forget.
Outside felt like another planet entirely. The moonlight
snuffed by clouds. The temperature had dropped to negative
two, according to the mercury thermometer dangling outside.
Heaped snow crowded up to the window, still accumulating.
The wind came in shrill spurts, slashing flurries of dry
snowflakes that tapped the glass like pebbles.
Ed.
“I could sure go for some global warming right now,” said
Sandi turned a page. “Global warming is a hoax.”
“I’m just saying, thank God we’re indoors.”
“That’s true,” Ashley murmured, tilting his head in Lars’s
direction, “until someone gets locked in a wooden box and
sawed in half.”
Rodent Face was back to hovering by the door, picking at
the brochure rack. Darby couldn’t tell if he’d heard Ashley’s
joke. She wished he would stop tempting fate. This situation
couldn’t possibly sustain itself for eight more hours. Sooner or
later, Ashley would wander onto a verbal landmine.
Weapons, then.
That was what tonight would come down to. And as far as
Darby could tell, this public rest area was as harmless as a
preschool. Outside the security shutters, the coffee bar had
only plastic forks and spoons. Paper plates and brown napkins.
There was a janitorial closet, but it was locked. No tire irons,
or flare guns, or steak knives. Her best offensive option,
unfortunately, was the two-inch serrated blade on her Swiss
Army multitool. She patted her jeans pocket, reassured that it
was still there.
Could she stab Lars with it? More importantly, would it
even stop him? She didn’t know. It was barely a weapon,
unlikely to pierce a ribcage. She’d need to catch Rodent Face
off-guard, and she’d need to plunge it directly into the soft