The green van left the car park and inconspicuously joined the traffic flow out of Hartford. Despite appearing large and roomy from the outside, the interior was a clutter of boxes and suitcases. Rory, Tristan, Paris and Jake were literally piled into the back, a tangle of twisted limbs.

"I can't feel my leg." Tristan complained looking pointedly at Paris who was draped awkwardly across his knees.

"Not your biggest problem right now." She frowned back, "In case you hadn't noticed, they have a gun and we're being kidnapped."

"Really! I had no idea." He replied sarcastically.

"Tristan you can be arrogant and dismissive about some things but right now, this is serious."

"Are you sure? Coz up till now I thought it was all a big joke."

"Do you want to die?"

"Are you threatening me?"

"No, but Dumb and Dumber up there are!" Paris pointed to the front of the vehicle where their abductors (who were addressing each other as Tom and Al) were arguing over radio stations.

"If they were going to kill us they would have done it by now." Tristan pointed out.

"Not necessarily." Rory's voice was quiet. Propped up against the opposite side of the van, her lower torso was under Jake and her legs across Paris'. "They only brought us with them because they were panicking and didn't know what else to do, besides it's not likely they would have gotten away with four homicides in the middle of a pub."

"Too public." Jake agreed.

"So what, you think they're taking us somewhere private where no one will ever find the bodies?" Tristan's flippant tone was all but gone now.

"It's a possibility." Paris closed her eyes and rubbed her temples, hoping to stop the tension headache she felt growing there.

"Hey," Jake attempted (unsuccessfully) to sit up straighter and lowered his voice to a whisper, "if we called the cops, would they be able to trace the call and find us?"

"They might." Paris looked interested, "Do you have your cell?"

"Yeah, I gave it to Rory to look after back at the pub."

"Yeah mine too." Paris and Jake turned to look at the second female expectantly.

"They're in my bag." Rory confirmed, "Which is on the table at the bar."

"You left it there?" Paris asked in disbelief.

"Well I didn't exactly get a chance to go back and get it did I?" Rory sulked guiltily as she thought of the book she'd left behind as well – Lorelai had bought it for her only days before.

"What about you?" Paris looked hopefully at Tristan.

"He doesn't have one." Jake sighed as Tristan shook his head silently.

"What? Since when do you not have a cell phone?" Paris exclaimed (well as much as one can exclaim while whispering.)

"Since Summer threw it out the window when I told her I didn't want to get back together."

"But that was weeks ago." Paris pointed out.

"How would you know?" Tristan eyed her suspiciously, "I never told anyone."

"I sit between Madeline and Louise." Paris offered as her only explanation. "Why haven't you bought a new one?"

"I just haven't gotten around to it yet." He shrugged apologetically.

"Typical." Paris rolled her eyes. No one bothered to agree with or contradict her. The four sank back into silence and their own thoughts. None of them knew how long they had been in the van for. The stacks of boxes effectively blocked any chance of identifying landmarks through the front windscreen and the haphazardly applied green paint covered the windows in the back.

According to Rory's watch it was 10 minutes after midnight. Her curfew wasn't until two; that left one hour and 50 minutes until she was officially late. With a sinking feeling in her stomach Rory remembered her last words to her mother as she was dragged out the door by Paris,

"Don't wait up for me."

Knowing Lorelai's trust in her daughter, there was a good chance that she would heed Rory's words and it would be morning before anyone realised she hadn't come home.

Across the van, Tristan's thoughts were following a similar pattern. The major difference was his lack of curfew. His parents had long since given up caring what time he stumbled up the stairs to his room. With the size of the house he doubted they even noticed when he didn't return alone. Tonight would be no different. Thinking he'd simply attended another in the long line of parties, no one would bother to check on him in the morning as previous encounters with a hung-over Tristan had taught them that lesson. It was quite likely that he wouldn't be missed until he failed to show for dinner that night. Even then it could be as late as Sunday night before anyone actually worried.

Jake's thoughts were more self-pitying than Rory and Tristan's combined. He didn't care how long it took his family to figure out he was gone, as far as he was concerned, the longer the better. Life within the Mahoney family was not one that appealed to him in the slightest. Between his workaholic father, the endless line of bimbo step-mothers and his practically perfect siblings, Jake had been looking for an out for years. Now he had it. The potential of the situation hadn't occurred to him straight away but after it became clear that ringing the police wasn't an option, Jake realised he didn't want help. He didn't believe that Tweedledum and Tweedledee in the front seats would kill them. Things like that just didn't happen to people with his social standing. Jake was certain that it wouldn't be long until he was free and on his way to a new life – with his father's credit card securely in his back pocket.

What annoyed him however, was Paris. It had taken him the better part of a week to talk her into coming out tonight. She had been suspicious initially but he'd expected that. When he had been forced to apologise profusely for the way he'd treated her in the past she'd buckled. Eventually she believed the he was truly sorry and genuinely interested in her.

Up until now the nigh had been going well. Rory was there to keep Tristan occupied, Paris was actually acting human and he'd even managed to get a couple of drinks in her. Jake had been sure that by the end of the night he would have succeeded in breaking Chilton's Ice Queen. Then she had to give in to her curiosity and look in the stupid –

"Paris," Jake spoke as the thought occurred to him, "what was in the bag?"

"Huh?" she broke out of her trance at the sound of her name. Tristan and Rory also returned to reality and listened curiously.

"The bag you looked in at the pub, the black one." Jake clarified, "What was in it?"

"Oh. Counterfeit money. Mostly 50s and 100s but there could have been more, I only got a glance. Paris explained and Rory's eyes widened.

"Ok…I figured it was drugs or something." Tristan glanced toward the front of the van, "They look more like drug dealers don't you think?"

"Woulda been my first guess." Jake agreed. Paris opened her mouth to comment but the words caught in her throat as the van began to slow. They had been travelling on a gravel road for a while now and it crunched under the tyres when they came to a halt. Al and Tom climbed out and moved toward the back of the van while the teenagers waited anxiously for the doors to open and reveal their destination.

----------

Every light in the house was on. Truthfully it couldn't really be classified as a house, more of a shack in appearance and closer in size to a large garden shed. People like Wes Craven had spent years and millions of dollars trying to recreate the effects that years of abandonment and neglect had had on this place. Tall trees and thick undergrowth crept up and overshadowed three sides of the building. On the forth side the native vegetation had been hacked away and the narrow shingle road simply ended at the front door. Behind the van nature engulfed the trail and the gently swaying branches made the darkness seem alive.

The inside was in no better condition. Moth eaten rugs covered rotten floorboards. Two mouldy looking armchairs faced an outdated radio in the centre of the one roomed structure. A makeshift kitchen was set up in one corner and two single beds filled another.

For a moment Rory thought that this was where they were to stay. A fleeting hopeful smile touched her lips as the many obvious escape routes called to her. The momentary calm that filled her vanished when Al threw back a particularly holey rug to reveal a padlocked trapdoor. Rory's heart clenched and she was sure she actually heard Paris whimper while they watched Al search for the key. After some confusion as to who had the key and a fair bit of swearing at the rusted lock, the door too was thrown back and Tom quickly ushered the stunned group into the hole.

Once the door was shut the only light was the tiny shafts that filtered between the cracks and holes in the floorboards. The floor above them was low. So low, that even Paris, being the shortest, had been head and shoulders above it before Tom slammed the door forcing them all o kneel in the dirt at their feet.

When the sound of the lock sliding home had snapped everyone out of their silent pleas for at least one of their abductors to have a conscience, they'd all retreated to separate corners. No one spoke and it seemed to Tristan that in the darkness the full reality was finally hitting home.

----------

They say that when one of your senses is taken away, your others become stronger. Sitting in the corner of their cold, damp cell, Tristan realised just how true this was. In the absence of light he could barely make out his hand inches from his nose and didn't have a chance of seeing a person huddled several metres away. With his remaining senses in overdrive however, he had a pretty clear mental image of his surroundings. He knew that Paris was hunched in the corner directly opposite him, Rory to his right and Jake to his left. It was Tristan's experience with girls that he expected that they should be hysterical and sobbing in a situation like this, but Rory and Paris were silent.

Despite their calm exteriors all four teenagers were equally scared inside. They were all used to being in control of every situation and now that that control had been taken away none of them knew how to act.

If they were to have any chance of escaping, or even staying sane and surviving the night, someone was going to have to take charge and keep the group united and strong. They outnumbered their captors and were without question smarter but the only problem with keeping their group united was the fact that they'd never been united to start with. If it wasn't for Jake's need to claim Tristan's title, Tristan's desire to retain it and Paris' incapacity to cope in social situations coupled with Rory's inability to say no, then they would never have been together to begin with.

Staying silent and still while trying to get her thoughts in order seemed like the best option to Rory. Al and Tom's heavy footsteps could be heard overhead and the lock was firmly in place so there was no hope of escape right then anyway. Rory's watch had no light so she had no idea of the time or how long till sunrise. She could only wait and hope that when it did come up more light would filter between the floorboards and they'd all be in a better state of mind for both thinking and talking.