I'm stupid...I'm so stupid...why am I so stupid?
This went through Renata's head many, many times during the harrowing ride through San Francisco. It was a hilly town, a traffic-laden town. The ride was not smooth, and it was not unwitnessed. It was a miracle, a sheer miracle that the police didn't intercept them. Of course, that would have been great for the girl in the van...but pretty bad for Renata, who did not want this to get back to her dad.
And now she was in WAY over her head, and she knew it, and it was really bad...but there was still a chance to make it right.
She'd stayed away from the side of the van his mirror might have spotted her clinging to. He might not know she was here. He hadn't pulled a gun in the parking lot...Renata figured he probably didn't have one. Which meant all she had to do was get him out of the way, get the keys, steal the van, and drive on out of here. Once clear she could stop, let the girl go, get her back home and let her deal with the police as she saw fit. She'd even leave the van with her so she'd have evidence.
One guy, and he didn't seem like he was on whatever the other guys were. Or...wasn't...he wasn't like them. That was all. Renata figured if she hit him, he'd feel it. Him, she could fight.
So when the van stopped, she dropped off the back and moved around to the side opposite the driver's side, standing where the wheel would hide her feet from someone looking underneath from his end.
She'd wait for him to open the doors, get in behind him, and get the jump on him. Hopefully before anyone lurking around here noticed anything amiss and came running over.