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"Do you have any place in mind? Know of any vacant lots around here?" Gretel asks behind the wheel.
"Yeah, on the outskirts of a nearby village, there's a path leading to a dilapidated mansion. The entire surrounding land is devoid of vegetation. Once we're done, getting back to the road below, where the forest begins, won't be difficult. From there, we can walk to the village and catch a direct bus to Malaga, retrieve my car parked in my office's lot, and head back," Abigail explains.
Gretel looks at her wide-eyed, finding comfort in Abigail's calm demeanor. Abigail exudes a sense of resolution, a woman with resources who seems to have a plan for everything.
"Do you think that man got stabbed because of us?" Gretel asks, swallowing hard.
Abigail furrows her brow, contemplating it since they heard the news. Her conclusion remains the same, despite her attempts to feel some guilt.
"No, not at all. That man was killed because of his greed. You heard him; he had the chance to do his job without any issues. Yet, he and his friends decided they could get more by blackmailing Teodoro. He's a damn drug lord who would kill if someone dared to steal half a kilo of coke. What did they expect him to do when he found out they had his son?"
"I can't believe they intended to make the exchange there, in that parking lot," Gretel shakes her head.
"Maybe it wasn't there, and they were found before. It's impossible to know. Don't dwell on something that will only confuse us more. Now we need to focus on our real problem. You've seen what they did to those people, Gretel. If that man finds out we have his son, he'll kill us too."
"What if we release him far from here? He hasn't seen our faces..."
"Do you really think he won't find us? That he doesn't have resources? Thanks to the news, he already knows where it all happened. He just needs to send someone to ask questions at the bar, and sooner or later, they'll find us, at least me remember I paid with a card."
"You're right," Gretel admits as they pull into the gas station.
Abigail slides on her sunglasses and a cap, freeing her ponytail. Stepping out, she heads into the shop to purchase a five-liter gasoline canister. Meanwhile, Gretel, also wearing a cap and avoiding the security camera's gaze, makes a cash payment to activate the pump. They fill the canister to the brim and leave, blending seamlessly into the bustling gas station activity. No one pays attention to these attractive women carrying a canister of gas; it's just another ordinary sight.
Back in the car, they tune the radio to a news station, hoping for any updates that might implicate them. However, when the announcer finally touches on the topic, there's no new information.
"Sooner or later, they'll find us; the police aren't fools. That guy might have told them two women stole their car keys," Gretel speculates. "They could have a lead."
"Or maybe he said nothing because they have no clue how their keys disappeared. They were high as kites; they could have lost them anywhere. But yes, you're right. Someone will stumble upon our trail, and with my credit card, they won't take long to track us down. Whatever we decide, we need to do it today," Abigail adds, pointing out the turnoff leading to the abandoned mansion.
They drive along a path parallel to the road for two or three minutes. To their right, a forest separates them from the road, and to their left, a vast stretch of vegetation-free land. They reach the ruins Abigail mentioned and decide to park the car on the left side of the house, far enough to shield it from potential flames if a strong gust of wind decides to play tricks. Abigail glances at the sky; it's a clear day, not a single cloud posing a threat to their plan.
"Got everything?" Gretel asks as they both step out of the car.
"Yes," Abigail replies, peering into her sports bag.
She ensures she has her house keys, car keys, and the lighter she grabbed from the kitchen.
"Will there be anyone inside, right?" Gretel questions, pointing at the ruins.
"No one walks all the way here; it's in the middle of nowhere."
However, Gretel plants doubt, choosing to approach the entrance and peer inside.
"Hello?" she calls out loudly.
No response. The remnants of the old mansion offer little hiding space; only some exterior walls remain, the roof having collapsed long ago.
"See, empty," Abigail confirms.
"How did you know about this place?"
"It's a quiet spot for privacy when you're young and the only thing you have is a car."
Gretel needs no further explanation to grasp the nature of Abigail's visits to the area.
"Now I suppose there are better places than this, but back in my day, this was all we had."
Afterward, they open all the car doors, and Abigail spreads gasoline everywhere, especially on the seats they occupied and in the trunk. When the canister is empty, she tosses it into the trunk and uses some papers from the glove compartment, rolling them into makeshift torches, lighting them at the furthest end from their hands.
