The sunset began to rise across the parking lot, with its last gold and orange streaks stretching across broken glass, abandoned carts, and the battered van. While the frost from the windows began to melt, they were fogged and smeared, but the growing sun still found its way in, making the mess of bottles, wrappers, and bundled clothes look almost warm.
Inside, Isabella woke up to the last rays crawling across the windows, the light slicing through grime and fog. For a second, she forgot where she was, just cold, stiff, and pressed up against something warm and small.
Then it all came back. The van. The night. Mateo.
She looked down, and Mateo was curled in front of her, with his back pressed tight to her stomach. Both of them were shivering, but survived through skin-to-skin in nothing but their underwear. The night before, she'd stripped him down herself, fighting with her shaking hands and remembering her mom's voice during a camping trip: If you're freezing, get dry, get close, and share body heat. Clothes trap sweat and cold if you're wet. Skin-to-skin contact is always the best. She'd layered the floor with floormats and their jeans, then piled their sweaters, trash bags, and more floormats on top of them. It was all she could think of.
For a second, she couldn't tell if he was breathing.
"Mat…" she whispered, her voice cracking.
She slid her hand over his ribs, pressing gently, then moved it up to his chest, searching for movement. There, she felt it. Slow and shallow, but there. His chest rose and fell.
When Isabella saw he was still breathing, she let out a shaky breath she didn't even know she'd been holding. She pressed her forehead against the back of his neck for a second, just feeling the faint warmth of his skin.
"Thank God," she breathed, barely audible.
She lay there for a minute, just watching him. Her whole body ached from the hard floor and from being so tense all night. Her mind kept racing: What if he stops breathing while I'm asleep? What if I missed something? What if. She made herself stop and take a breath.
"Focus!" she told herself.
She then started checking him the way she remembered from her mom's teachings: fingers, toes, ears. She took his hand and wrapped her fingers around it. His skin was cold, but not as terrifying as the waxy cold of last night. She rubbed his fingers between her palms, trying to coax more warmth into them, then reached down and squeezed his foot through the thin layer of floormats and jeans.
"Come on, dummy," she muttered, more to herself than him. "Don't you dare be frozen."
His toes twitched.
She let out a wet laugh that sounded too close to a sob and wiped at her eyes with the back of her wrist.
Mateo shifted and mumbled something, his shoulders tightening under her arm. Isabella quickly pulled her hand back, suddenly feeling awkward about how close they were now that he was actually awake and not maybe dying.
He blinked his eyes open, looking confused and a little puffy from sleep. "Why's everything spinning?" he mumbled, then frowned. "My hands feel weird. Tingly."
"That's good," Isabella said quickly, trying to sound calm. "It means they're waking up. How do your feet feel? Can you move your toes?"
He wriggled his feet under the pile of clothes. "Yeah. They're… kinda numb. But I can move them."
Isabella swallowed. Her mind flashed back to winter nights and camping trips, to Mom's hands pressed warm against their skin. I have to warm him up like Mom used to, she thought.
"Okay, hold still for a second," she said.
She pressed her palms together and rubbed them hard until heat built between them, then cupped her hands over his ears, gently covering them. After a moment she pulled back, rubbed again, faster this time, then pressed her warm hands against the sides of his neck, just below his jaw.
He blinked, surprised. "What are you doing?"
"Warming you up," she said. "Head, neck, chest. Mom always said if you keep the important parts warm, the rest catches up."
She rubbed her hands together again until they almost burned, then laid them flat against his upper chest, just below his collarbones, holding them there until the warmth bled out of her skin and into his. After that, she slid one hand down to his fingers, rubbing each one between her palms, then did the same for his toes through the makeshift bedding.
Mateo watched her, eyes softer now. "Mom used to do that," he whispered. "When we got too cold. With her hands."
Isabella's throat tightened. "Yeah," she said quietly. "I remember."
She kept going a little longer, cycling between his ears, neck, hands, and feet until his shivering eased just a bit and some color crept back into his face.
"Better?" she asked.
He nodded. "Yeah. A little."
She let her hands fall back to her lap, suddenly aware of how tired they felt. "Good. You scared me, you know that?" Her voice wobbled on the last word.
He squinted at her, still half-asleep. "Why are we in our underwear?" he said, the confusion finally catching up to him.
She tried to smile, though her lips felt cracked. "Body heat. Remember the survival games with Mom?"
He frowned, thinking. "Oh. Yeah. Like, if you're freezing, get close. But why the floor?"
Isabella propped herself up on an elbow, glancing around the van's cluttered interior. "I figured if we stayed low and quiet, the creatures would lose interest faster, plus, the floor's easier to pile stuff on for insulation. The seats are just as cold, and you can't really stretch out."
Mateo shifted around, making a face. "I have to pee," he whispered, sounding embarrassed.
Isabella let out a tired sigh. "Yeah, me too. Of course, it hits now." She pushed herself up, rubbing her eyes. "Alright, help me look for something we can use. There's gotta be an empty bottle or something in here."
Mateo started digging through the mess on the floor, tossing aside a crumpled snack wrapper. "What about this?" he held up a juice box, already crushed flat.
She shook her head. "No way you're aiming in that. Keep looking."
He rummaged a little more and then found a half-empty water bottle. "This?"
"Perfect," Isabella said. "Finish it off and then hand it over."
Mateo chugged the last bit of water, then handed her the bottle, looking a little proud. "Here."
She took it, feeling her own bladder ache now that she was thinking about it. "Alright, you go first." She turned away, giving him as much privacy as possible in the cramped van.
Mateo fumbled with the bottle, then whispered, "Done."
Isabella took the bottle back from Mateo. She stared at it for a second, feeling her bladder ache even more now that it was in her hand. There was no way she could pee in that tiny opening without making a mess. Come on, think, she told herself, glancing around the van for anything else that might work.
She sighed and handed the bottle back. "Yeah, this is not gonna work for me. The hole's way too small. We need something bigger."
Mateo glanced at her, curiosity flickering. "Why can't you just use the other bottle? The one I used?"
Isabella shifted while looking a little embarrassed. "It's… complicated," she muttered. "The hole's too small. Trust me, it's just… different for girls."
Mateo looked puzzled for a second, then just nodded. "Oh. Okay."
Isabella then started rifling through the clutter and looked at Mateo. "Help me out, okay? See if you can find a cup, a bigger bottle, or anything. Otherwise, this is gonna get real awkward, real fast."
Mateo nodded and started digging through the mess again while Isabella kept searching, trying not to think about how badly she needed to go.
While Mateo was still searching under the seats, Isabella's bladder gave another angry twist. She gritted her teeth, trying to focus. "Check by the back," she muttered, with a tight voice. Then, she wondered out loud: "If you were Mom, where would you stash emergency stuff in here?"
They squeezed past a pile of bags, shoving aside a tangle of old jumper cables and a half-deflated soccer ball. Mateo yanked up the trunk liner, and there it was, a faded green survival bag wedged next to the spare tire.
"Whoa," Mateo breathed, pulling it out with both hands. "Did you know this was here?"
"Not a clue," Isabella said, already unzipping it. Inside, they found a silver emergency blanket, a heavy-duty flashlight, a battered map and a compass, a folding knife, a roll of duct tape, and a plastic pouch stuffed with medical supplies: bandages, gauze, antiseptic, even a pack of those weird orange pills Mom always made them keep for "just in case." There was a whistle, a tiny sewing kit, and a few packs of matches in a waterproof case.
Isabella pulled out the emergency blanket and groaned. "Of course. Now I find the blanket. Where were you last night when I was freezing my butt off?" She shot Mateo a look, trying not to smile.
Mateo grinned and hugged the blanket. "Hey, at least we've got it now."
Isabella tried to laugh, but her bladder was screaming now. She shifted her weight, crossing her legs tightly, hoping Mateo wouldn't notice. Come on, focus. Just a little longer. Don't pee yourself now, that's all you need.
They dug deeper, finding two more water bottles wedged behind the bag. Isabella's eyes widened. "Yes!" she said, grabbing them. "Score."
Isabella pulled out the folding knife from the survival kit, her hands shaking with urgency. She cut the top off one of the new bottles, making the opening wide enough. Thank God, she thought, relief already making her dizzy.
She turned away and muttered, "Don't look over here, okay?"
Mateo just nodded, busying himself with the compass and map. Isabella finally let herself relax, the pressure in her bladder fading, replaced by a wave of gratitude. For a second, the van actually felt safe, like maybe they could handle this, one problem at a time.
When Isabella finished, Mateo hugged his knees and said quietly, "I'm hungry."
Isabella let out a sigh. "Yeah, no kidding. Me too." She glanced around at the mess in the van, her stomach twisting.
She straightened her hair and gave Mateo a look. "Alright, here's what we're gonna do. We're not just gonna sit here whining about it. We need to find every scrap of food and water in this van, everything. Then we figure out how long it's gonna last."
Mateo nodded, eyes wide.
"I mean it, Mat. No more just grabbing stuff when you're bored or thirsty. We count it, and we ration it. Got it?"
He nodded again, a little more seriously. "Got it."
"Good," Isabella said, already starting to dig through the seat pockets. "Let's get to work."
They started at opposite ends of the van with Isabella digging through the front seats and glove compartment, and Mateo crawling around the back, checking under seats and in the side pockets. In the glove compartment, Isabella found a couple of small, worn notepads tucked between some old receipts. She smiled faintly, thinking they might use them to keep track of supplies, or maybe even play games to pass the time.
Once she showed Mateo, his eyes lit up at the idea, already imagining scribbling notes about the creatures outside. Isabella then found a crumpled snack bar wedged between the seat and the door, and a half-melted pack of Tic Tacs in the cup holder. She tossed them onto the dashboard with a little snort. "Score. Gourmet dining."
Mateo called out from the trunk area, "Found another water bottle!" He crawled out holding two, both still sealed.
"Nice. Keep going," Isabella said, her tone sharp but not unkind. She reached under the passenger seat and pulled out a faded beach towel, shaking off a cloud of sand and old receipts.
After what felt like forever, they piled everything on the center console: four full water bottles, four snack bars, the Tic Tacs, the emergency blanket, the beach towel, and the medical kit from earlier. Isabella glanced at the supplies, then at Mateo.
"That's it?" Mateo asked, his voice small.
"That's it," Isabella said, voice flat. "So here's the deal, no shoving snack bars in your mouth just because you're bored. We split everything, and we make it last. One bar a day, half a bottle of water each, and the Tic Tacs are for when you're about to lose it, not for fun. Got it?"
Mateo nodded, looking a little glum but understanding.
She softened, just a bit. "Don't worry. We'll make it work. But we have to be smart, okay?"
He said: "Okay," while forcing a little smile.
Isabella started dividing the food and water, her mind already running through how long it would last, and what they'd do when it was gone.
As Mateo watched Isabella dividing up their supplies, he chewed his lip and then asked, "How long do you think this stuff will last?"
Isabella didn't look up. "Not long enough," she said, her voice flat.
Mateo was quiet for a second. "So… what are we gonna do?"
Isabella didn't answer right away. She slid over to the window and wiped a patch clear with her sleeve. Mateo crawled over beside her, both of them peering out through the dirty glass.
Outside, the parking lot was still crawling with creatures. Some wandered aimlessly, others were clustered together. Their movements were slow and jerky. The sky was gray and heavy, the world beyond the van feeling even smaller than before.
Isabella swallowed, her mind spinning. "There are so many of them," she whispered. "They're stronger. Faster. I don't know how we're supposed to get out of here."
Mateo pressed his face to the glass, watching the creatures shuffle and snarl outside. Neither of them said anything else. They just sat there, side by side, staring out at the nightmare with no plan, no hope, just the question hanging between them: How are we ever going to escape?