IF YOU'RE GOING TO KILL US TONIGHT, how are you going to deliver those and get them back in time?" Jess asked, and Nancy bit her lip, anxiously awaiting her sister's response.

"Were you not listening to a thing I just said?" Zoe appeared to be extremely frustrated.

"Yeah, there's this thing called the internet," Trenton jumped in. "I heard it works really well."

"Can't they just trace the IP address, then?" Drew questioned, being the one who knew the most about technology, due to his so-called detective work.

"No, we run it through a shit-ton of servers so they can't find us. They'll probably end up in like Canada or something if they try to trace the signal."

"Plus, if they go to the police it won't work," Trenton pulled out a badge. "I am the police."

"So, who's up first?" Zoe smiled maliciously. "How about you, sis? I bet mom and dad won't even respond. Oh, and if they do, it'll probably be an apology explaining how they can't afford to waste any money on you."

"Wow, Z," Nancy rolled her eyes, placing a hand over her heart. "Hit me right here."

"Get in the booth," Trenton pulled her out of her seat, dragging her over to the enclosed room. "Sit."

Nancy sat at the computer, wondering what she should write. Then she remembered the day after the first murder of Moonlarkville, when she and her parents had sat at the kitchen table and came up with some terms. Zoe had been at one of her so-called 'debate meets', which Nancy now knew were a total fluke.

-

"Okay, here's the deal, Nance," Her dad had said. "Five kids from your school were pronounced dead yesterday. They have yet to perform an official autopsy, but judging from the marks around their necks, they were hung. The person who did this is pretty vicious, Nance. They sent the bodies to the parents. Who does that?"

"The Capitol." Nancy mumbled, taking a bite of her cereal - not fully understanding just how serious the situation was.

"What?" Her mom asked in confusion.

"Oh, nothing. Just, uh, Hunger games reference."

"Nancy Michelle, I want you to understand me when I say this. These kids are dead. They're not coming back. And we don't know if there's going to be another episode like the, but what we do know is that we don't want anything to ever happen to you. Ever."

"Though in the event that it does," Her mom added. "We want to have a plan in place."

"For example," Her dad transitioned in smoothly, and Nancy bet that they had rehearsed this conversation many times. "If you were captured by the killer and you had the chance to send a message, we want it to be encrypted."

"Just in case the murderer wants to see it, they won't know what you're talking about. You know, if the message is for purposes other than telling us your location, and if you're not allowed to disclose it."

"You guys really thought this one through, huh?" Nancy caught their dazed expressions and the darkened circles under their eyes.

"Kept us up all night," Nancy's mom confided almost proudly.

"Okay, let's get to work," Her dad clasped his hands together, signifying his impatience. "Get the ideas flowing."

"How about 'I'm safe here' means the exact opposite?" Nancy suggested.

"Sounds good," Her dad agreed, pulling out a pen and a pad of paper, writing it down. "We'll keep this list in our bedroom, safe and sound."

"Maybe everything you write could mean the opposite?" Her mom asked, and Nancy thought that it was a pretty solid idea.

Apparently her dad thought so too, because he exclaimed, "Awesome! Good one!" And they high-fived while Nancy bit back a laugh. She could see her dad was starting to get excited. He did that a lot - especially over the weird things that no one else gets pumped about. "Or, you know in those shows where the police are working with the bad guys because they pay better?"

Nancy nodded and he continued, "Just say 'leave it to the police' and we'll go straight to the FBI."

"Oh, and don't forget the first-letter code! Capitalize the first letter of every word and we'll pull them out in order to get your real message. And if you need to use numbers, just bold the one we need to take a closer look at."

"Try to remember all this and you'll be fine, kiddo. Promise me you'll keep this conversation locked up in that big brain of yours, okay?"

-

Back then, Nancy had rolled her eyes - but now she would be eternally grateful for their overprotectiveness. She would use their backwards and first letter code, and she would get herself and the others out of here - although the first letter code would be kind of hard to master. Her sentences probably wouldn't make sense.

But at least it was something.

Clicking 'compose', she began to type:

hi mom and dad,

don't worry. i'm safe here. don't send help. leave it to the police. I Never Meant Our Understanding Not To Add IN. Send 3,000 Dollars And You Will Ask Later, Kay? Come Out to My Place Outside Uncle Nate's Diner.

love you,

nancy

Taking one last look, she called out, "I'm done!" and Trenton barreled in to check.

"What is all that gibberish?" He asked, pointing to the fifth and seventh lines where Nancy's use of first-letter code hadn't made sense.

"An apology, and a line from my favorite book when I was little so they know it's actually me." Nancy lied smoothly, surprised that she had actually been able to come up with a lie on the spot.

"What's with all the capitalized letters?"

"Have you ever read Paper Towns?" Nancy sputtered, not sure where she was really going with this. "Because ever since I read about Margo and her random letter capitalization, I decided it would be a pretty cool thing to do."

"Okay, whatever," Trenton sighed. "Just send it. And $3,000? Damn, you're cheap."

Nancy shrugged. "Like Zoe said earlier, they probably shouldn't waste their money on me." She got up and headed back to her seat, crossing her fingers that her parents would decode the message: Worry. I'm not safe. Send help. Don't trust the police. In mountains. 3 day walk. Compound.

Plopping down in her seat, she was overcome with a sudden tiredness. Closing her eyes, she heard her sister yell, "Next!"

DREW KNEW THAT A RANSOM NOTE would be useless. As far as he knew, his grandparents didn't even have an email. So, instead, he settled for sending one to his best friend, Monty.

Monty was what his classmates would call a 'Nerdy Asian' - but that was okay, because he embraced it by being, in fact, Asian, and spending every possible minute he could spare on the internet.

Which was why Drew was positive he would get his 'ransom note'.

He clicked 'compose' and added in Monty's email. He always laughed when he sent Monty something, because his username was so ridiculous.

To: [email protected]

From: Unknown

Subject: Goodbye

Help. - Drew

He was about to click send, but then he remembered that it was supposed to be a ransom note, so he erased that and continued to type.

We knew that this would happen sooner or later. One of us would end up as one of the five sent home to their families in that awful wooden box. Well, it was me. I always thought it would be you because of your little hack-y stuff. But I guess not. I just wanted to let you know that I love you, man. And tell my grandparents I love them too. And I know this is supposed to be a ransom note, but don't send any money. Nothing you could ever do or say could get me out of this hellhole. So, thanks for being the most amazing best friend anyone could ever ask for. - Drew.

He swiped under his eyes, glad that he was in an enclosed space and no one could see him cry.

Trenton peered into the makeshift room. "Are you done yet? You're taking forever."

"I just finished." Drew turned around to face his superior.

"Wow, that is some sappy shit," Trenton muttered, reading the first part. His eyes narrowed after reading the rest. "Damn, you're even cheaper than Nancy. You think you're worth nothing? Not even a penny?"

"I just want my grandparents to conserve their money. They're retiring soon."

"God, everyone here is so boring. And poor, apparently. I'm just waiting for someone to put their ransom as like a million dollars. First was Nancy with a measly $3,000, and the funny part is, I thought that was the worst of it. Then you come along and ask for nothing. I wish we did this last month. That cheerleader girl-"

"Kimberly," Drew supplied.

"-was loaded." Trenton finished.

"I just don't see why we're doing this if we're not actually getting out of here no matter how much money our loved ones offer up."

"Just hit send, Benedict." Drew was tired of talking to Trenton anyway, so he obeyed. "Oh, look, we have our first reply. Swans, get over here!"

NANCY CAME RUNNING AT THE CALL, hastening to beat her sister and simultaneously praying that her parents had understood her message. They crammed into the tiny booth with Drew at the computer and Trenton, who was tucked into the small space beside the aforementioned teen.

"Well, Drew, are you going to open it or not?" Nancy prompted restlessly.

Drew clicked on the reply and Nancy skimmed the message, which was simple and short:

We End Relationships Early, Child. Oh, Money Is Not Good.

"Oh my god," Zoe cackled. "Did they just disown you AND refuse ransom in the same message? This is the the best thing that's ever happened to me!"

Drew looked to Nancy in concern, but she allowed herself a small smile. She got the message: We're coming. Her hopes soared.

"Ugh, this is not as fun as I thought it would be," Trenton complained. "Next!"

DAMIAN REMAINED SEATED AS JUST ABOUT everyone else filed out of the small booth. It was like a clown car in the sense that a large amount of people could fit into what seemed like an impossibly small space.

"You're up next, Mr. Bad Boy," Trenton motioned for Damian to come over.

He shook his head, doing his best to ignore the name calling, reminding himself that this was what he had made everyone else think of him.

Well, everyone except for Nancy. She was the only one who knew what the real Damian was like. Or, a part of him, anyway. There were so many layers to his personality, even Damian himself didn't know which was the most prominent. But this was what he had learned to do to protect himself.

Though throughout the past four days, he had found that Nancy was stripping down layers bit by bit, exposing Damian right to the core. But, surprisingly, he found that he kind of liked it.

In all of his eighteen years, he could clearly say that Nancy was the best thing that ever happened to him. Other than getting into Stanford, that is. However, that chance was about to be flushed down the drain. And so was Nancy, unless he found a way to fix that.

"Hey, Pullman, I'm still waiting!" Trenton was tapping his foot, a cross look set upon his smug face.

"I'm emancipated," Damian replied, still not getting up. "In case you don't know what that means-"

"He knows what that means, Mr. Psych Major," Zoe interrupted. "And I don't care, you're writing a ransom note."

"My mother is dead, and I do not want to speak with my father ever again." Needless to say, Damian had a pretty rough childhood. The relationship between him and his father was something he had never spoken to anyone about. Not a single soul.

And the secret would die with him tonight. Maybe not if he escaped, but he doubted that would happen. Also maybe not if Nancy somehow managed to get it out of him by then - she was already giving him curious looks.

"Come over, Damian, we don't have all day," Nancy's sister sighed in annoyance, and he couldn't help but notice how different the two siblings were. They were like polar opposites. The only thing they had in common was their appearance.

"I have no one to write to." Damian insisted, staying right where he was.

"Do it before I pull the chair out from beneath you."

Damian opted for the less painful option. Standing up took all the effort he had; he could feel his muscles trembling beneath him, incredibly sore from the massive beating he just took. He caught Nancy eyeing him from across the table like she wanted to help, but he just sent her a look like 'I got this' and slowly but surely hobbled over to the "office space".

Trenton met him there. "Here, have a seat," He offered, but then appeared to have thought up a better idea. He pulled the chair away, pushing it out of the booth completely. "On second thought, don't. You took too long." He smiled cruelly.

Damian just sneered back, not letting anything start his temper. Otherwise, things could get bad. Fast. "Either way works for me." He crouched in front of the old-fashioned box computer, hearing a crack from one of his joints - which didn't sound too good. Things were not looking up for him. His head was pounding just from walking over here, and his entire torso throbbed in pain. "Um, we have a reply from Monty Larkin."

"Benedict, get your ass back here!" Trenton hollered, and Drew came running. "Your friend responded."

Damian opened the email and read it out loud, assuming the others couldn't see because the print was so small and they were so far away. "Your friend says, 'Dude, where are you? I tried to trace the IP address and ended up in like Siberia or something. And I'm like ninety percent sure that's wrong. So just let me know and I'll send a firing squad ASAP.'"

"Yeah, well, that won't be happening," Trenton shooed Drew away, turning to face Damian. "Now write."

Clicking 'compose', Damian began to write a letter to the Stanford Administration Officer, relinquishing his rights to a spot in the class of 2015.

Mr. Molina,

Remember the psychological analysis I turned in of the people of Moonlarkville, NC? Remember how I had named a few possible suspects after further examining their behavior? It turns out that they caught on to that, and now I'm one of the dreaded five - though this time it has taken an interesting twist. One of us is a traitor. As to who, we haven't figured out yet. Either way, I'm not getting out, so you should give my spot to the next best contestant.

Furthermore, I am supposed to be writing to you for a ransom note of sorts. But offering money won't get me out of the mess I've created for myself, therefore you shouldn't do so. I would just like to thank you tremendously for offering me a spot in your prestigious school, and I am very sorry I will not be able to attend.

Thanks for everything,

Damian Pullman

He clicked send before Trenton could come in and bash his letter. Damian didn't care what he had to say, he could excuse himself.

"Next!" He called as he returned to his seat, grinning in satisfaction at the look on Trenton's face.

JESS FELT THAT THIS PROCEDURE WAS completely unnecessary. It's not like her parents wouldn't answer or anything, it's that they couldn't. And she made sure to tell Trenton so before he forced her to enter the booth.

"It's not like anything exciting was happening anyway," He said to her, and then to the rest of the group, "We're done here."

a/n: *conveniently leaves out Gunnar's POV*