The Runaway: A Stardew Valley Story

Captor

I want to ask my savior to slow down after nearly tripping on the third set of stiff boots jutting into the tiny clearing made by the stranger, but as soon as they get within yelling range, they trudge on ahead. Eventually, the mass of bodies thins, and I realize that instead of trying to figure out how to keep up, I should have spent my time figuring out how to get away. My eyes lock onto a row of plastic stalls labeled toilets, and I make a B-line.

"Thanks for the help!" I wave in the stranger's direction without looking. "I really had to go!"

"One of us has had a little more practice at lying and deception, and it's not you, Joy."

I freeze with my back facing whoever knows my deepest secret.

"For starters, we need to get out of here. Neither of us needs this kind of attention." The voice of the stranger is low and close to my ear. "You're going to invite me into that sweet little farmhouse you have, and I'll drive us."

"Whoever you are, you need to go away. You have me confused with—"

Something sharp and hard presses into the flesh of my back. I can't cover the squeak that escapes me.

"You know what I'm capable of. I'm willing to do what it takes. Are you?"

I have to be.

The stranger leads me away from the music toward the parking lot where the bus stop is. When I begin to head toward it, the skin under the knife groans as my captor leads me in the opposite direction. We walk to the back of the lot where the cover of darkness is thicker thanks to a busted street light. A quick hand throws open the passenger door to a dented and rusting car. I'm thrown inside with little remorse.

It's not until the stranger starts the car with two wires from under the steering wheel and flies down the road at record speed that they pull off their hood, or rather she pulls off her hood. In the dim glow of the car's interior, smooth black skin and dark eyes shine. Hair that was once wild and free is tightly braided into neat rows down the woman's head. She looks so different from the last time I saw her.

"Mia?"

"Don't," she spits, "call me that."

"What should I call you then?"

"Nothing. You're going to forget you ever saw me after tonight."

After that, I try to get more answers out of my captor, but Mia Gibbens remains silent with eyes focused on the road ahead. When we reach town, I start to offer Mia directions to Lakewood, but she silences me with a glare. The sounds of our car doors slamming shut are the only signs of life in all of Pelican.

"Nice place," Mia says as she unlaces a pair of black leather boots and rests them neatly by the door.

What do I say in response? Thanks, just got the kitchen remodeled? It used to be my dead grandpa's? You should see it when I have time to clean because I'm not being held at knifepoint?

In the end, I just nod.

Mia settles into the only kitchen chair. She waits for me with expectant eyes. I lean my weight against the bed. It groans in response.

"Why'd you go back?"

If I could give a smart answer, now would be the time to do it, but nothing comes to mind. With jaw clenched, I try to look unfazed by Mia's interrogation. I let my gaze float lazily over to her then the window. Tension in the room builds as Mia waits for me to respond.

Finally, "Who did you meet in that honkytonk bar?"

I don't respond.

Loud footsteps rush towards me. The old cottage flooring groans. "Answer me!"

I shake my head in defiance, but I can't move my gaze from the window. If I shift my focus from this anchor even a little, the thin mask of protection I have made will crumble. Knowing my hormones these days, there will probably be tears involved. I can't cry in front of the girl who held me at knifepoint.

"How did he find me?" Mia is looming over me. "Can the man you met be trusted?"

Though the room is dark, Mia's eyes devour any trace of light and reflect them in an impossible glow. The tightness in her brow screams ferocity and determination, but the slightest crease of her lips undermines the effort. A well of pity forms in my gut, or at least something that I assume must be pity. I don't think I've ever had to name this feeling before. It's entirely foreign.

"I would trust Gussy with my life."

"Obviously, you've already done that," Mia groans. "I want to know if you're smart enough to trust the right people. What evidence is there that this guy's legit?"

Evidence? Gussy has been my closest friend since I met Josh. That doesn't require evidence. I just trust him.

Sinking further into the bed and pulling my body in on itself, I reply, "Gussy is trustworthy, but trust has to be earned. If you want a reason to trust him, you should talk to him yourself. He's trying to help people like us."

A snort escapes my captor. "See, that's the problem right there." She points a finger in my direction. "No one helps people like us. They help themselves to us."

Her words settle in my chest like a heavyweight—Mia's right. My parents helped themselves to the profit of my life and my body. The Jones family helped themselves to the image I could give their son. Joshua helped himself to everything I had, and then he got bored when there was nothing left.

"They did," I whisper, "but you and I changed that. Gussy is trying to change that for everyone else."

"We don't need anyone to save us, Joy!" The name stings and I recoil. "You and I can rescue the others, all on our own!"

I blink in confusion. "You want us to save everyone in the Exchange?By ourselves?"

"We can do it."

"We're on the run as wanted criminals and lunatics!"

"Evading the police is child's play."

"You had to murder your own husband to get free!"

"And you drugged Josh. It means we can do what it takes."

"I'm pregnant." I pause with chest heaving. Silence echoes in the room. "What I did was not for me."

Mia's mouth closes.

"I can't, and I won't join you," I say with finality. "If you want to help everyone stuck in the Exchange, help Gussy take them down from the top." I hold out the pager Gussy gave me in the Rowdy Howdy. "The Exchange needs to be brought to justice. It's not enough to just rescue other people like us one at a time. We have to destroy them. Once and for all."

Even as I say the words, I feel the guilt of another lie on my chest. Who am I to throw around we as if I'm part of the solution? I can't even convince myself to testify against my abuser when everything has been brought to court. Who am I to tell Mia how to save all those people? I can't even save myself without everyone's help. I'm perfectly useless. Utterly powerless.

Please accept this humble chapter as tribute for going back on hiatus for the next semester. Unfortunately, working and being a full-time grad student is too much to handle, and I cannot promise chapters while class is in session. The semester will end in early May, so please pester me with comments around that time to encourage quick writing! 

You, the readers, are the only reason I'm still working on this, so thank you all for being so awesome!