**CHAPTER: THE VAN IN THE WOODS**
From Timothy's POV:
The van wasn't a cartoon villain's lair. It was just... old. It smelled of stale cigarettes, motor oil, and the nervous sweat of the two men in the front seats.
The floor was gritty with dirt. Every pothole on the backroad they'd taken jolted us against the cold metal walls.
We were tied, but not like in movies—just our wrists bound in front of us with rough zip-ties
These weren't cartoon idiots. That was the scariest part.
They were just... guys. Regular, bored, low-level Garza guys who'd been given a job that was way too big for them and were now in way too deep.
They didn't cackle or say evil monologue. They just looked stressed and kept checking their phones. Their names were Luis (driver, nervous eyes) and Marcos (bigger, with a tattoo of a rose that said 'Mama' on his forehead).
They didn't yell at us much. They just made sure we were tied up and quiet.
After hours of driving on dark, winding roads, the van slowed. We'd pulled off the highway an eternity ago.
Up ahead was a flickering neon sign: **'GIT-N-SPLIT'**. A sad, all-night gas station in the middle of a forest of shadows.
"Stay here. Don't make a sound," Luis muttered, not even looking at us. Like we were a problem he was tired of thinking about.
He and Marcos got out, the cold night air rushing in for a second before the doors slammed shut. We heard their footsteps crunch on gravel, then the ding of the store bell.
Silence. Thick, heavy, terrifying silence filled the van.
Then, a small, wobbly voice started singing. It was Charlie, curled against her sister Cassie. She was singing a made-up song, off-key and heartbreaking.
*"The stars are hiding... the moon is sad... my dolly's in the car with dad... the trees are big and mean and green... and I want my mommy in-betweeeeeen..."*
Her voice cracked on the last word. A tiny sob escaped her. Cassie shushed her gently, pulling her closer, but her own face was pale marble in the dark.
In my arms, Juliet shivered. "Timmy? I'm firsty."
"I know, Jules. Soon," I whispered, my throat dry. I had nothing to give her.
To my left, Enzo was obsessively tapping his locked iPhone screen, holding it up at different angles. "One bar. One stupid bar that comes and goes. I can't get a text out."
Across from us, Olivia was the stillest. She wasn't crying. She wasn't singing.
She just sat, small and swallowed by her dark green dress, which was now smudged with dirt from the van floor. She was trembling, but it wasn't from crying.
It was a full-body shiver, the kind that comes from deep, bone-chilling cold seeping through the metal walls. She looked so young. Just a baby, really. Her eyes were open, staring at nothing.
Cassie met my gaze over the tops of the little girls' heads. Her green eyes were wide, but they weren't wild with panic.
They were calculating. Scared, but sharp. She gave me a tiny, almost invisible nod. It wasn't a 'help me' nod.
It was a 'we have to do something' nod. I nodded back. My heart was a drum solo in my chest.
The door to the Git-N-Split swung open, spilling yellow light.
Luis and Marcos walked back, laughing about something, each carrying a six-pack of cheap beer. They got in, the van rocking with their weight.
The engine coughed back to life, and we pulled onto the dark road again.
The mood in the front changed. The beers were opened. The sharp *hiss-psst* sound was followed by gulps.
"Man, think about it," Marcos said, his voice looser. "The payday on this. Williams pays to get his girls back? We're set. We could go to Belize. Get a boat."
"Shut up, idiot," Luis said, but he was smiling. "Don't jinx it. Just drive."
But they kept talking. Soccer. A woman named Mianda. The money. The stupid, easy money they thought was already in their pockets.
The laughter got louder, sloppier. The van swerved gently, then corrected.
The air in the back got tighter. This was it. They were distracted. Drunk like Riven after a very long day. This was our only chance.
Cassie looked at me again and mouthed: *Now?*
I looked at the front. Luis was taking a long drink, one hand loosely on the wheel. Marcos was turned in his seat, gesturing with his beer.
I took a shaky breath. I gently shifted Jules, placing her in Cassie's lap. "Hold her."
I stood up in the moving van, my legs wobbly from being tied so long. The van hit a bump, and I pitched forward.
Cassie's hand shot out, gripping my forearm, steadying me. Her grip was strong.
I didn't think. If I thought, I'd freeze.
I lunged forward between the seats. My target wasn't Luis, the driver. It was the wheel.
I threw my whole upper body over the center console, my bound hands grabbing for the steering wheel. I didn't try to fight Luis for it. I just yanked it down and to the right with all my weight.
"HEY! WHAT THE—!" Luis shouted, beer flying.
The van jerked violently to the right, tires screeching on asphalt, then crunching on gravel. The headlights swept across a wall of pine trees.
**THUMP-CRUNCH-BANG.**
The impact wasn't a movie explosion. It was a sickening, shuddering stop. My face smashed into the soft cushioned headrest of the passenger seat. The world spun. Glass tinkled. Someone screamed—Charlie.
For a second, there was quiet, broken only by the hiss of the radiator.
Then, swearing. Loud, panicked swearing from the front. Luis and Marcos were dazed, fumbling with their seatbelts.
But the force of the crash had done one important thing: the van's side door had flown open, hanging crookedly on its hinges, letting in the cold, pine-scented night air.
"Go! Go! GO!" Cassie hissed.
Enzo was already scrambling, pulling Olivia up. I stumbled back, my vision blurry, and grabbed Juliet from Cassie's arms. Cassie scooped up a crying Charlie.
We didn't look back. We fell out of the open door onto the damp, prickly forest floor. The world was pitch black and full of sharp smells.
Behind us, Luis and Marcos were still untangling themselves from airbags and beer cans.
"The woods! Run into the woods!" I gasped.
We ran. Not like heroes. Like scared kids. Stumbling over roots, branches slapping our faces. Juliet clung to my neck, silent now, her breath hot on my skin.
Cassie ran ahead, Charlie a weight in her arms. Enzo was behind me, half-carrying, half-dragging Olivia, who ran with a silent, desperate determination.
We didn't stop until the van's headlights were just a distant, broken glow through the trees, and the only sounds were our ragged breaths and the endless, judging whisper of the pines.
We were free.
We were lost.
And the night was very, very big.
---