Chase the Stars

The trellis had been removed from under her window, but otherwise Mila's room looked the same as it had when she was eleven. Stanton had hired a few men to act as security and one was stationed below her bedroom window. Mila knew he'd explain it away as a precaution to ensure her "kidnappers" didn't return for her, but of course they were there to keep her in.

"You're going to have to try a lot harder than that," Mila murmured as she leaned out her window and caught the edge of the roof. She pulled herself up onto the bricks, clutching a heavy porcelain doll she had taken from an old trunk in her room. She moved quiet as a cat to the other side of the house. Only the trellis at her window had been removed. The one under Stanton's study was still there. Mila crept down carefully, landing on the ground just as the guard standing there turned around. She smiled, then clobbered him over the head with the doll.

He looked stunned for a few seconds, then toppled over, unconscious. Mila tossed the doll into the bushes and hurried away, scrambling over the garden wall. It took her a little bribing and a little threatening to convince someone to take her to South Plymm. Her ship and all her belongings were still in the harbor there, but she hadn't had any problem stealing a few small trinkets from her father's house, and everything Stanton owned was top quality.

She only had to hand over a sapphire ring and threaten to cut off a man's fingers and feed them to him once before she got passage on a ship out of Maryport. She kept her knife out, twirling it casually as he flew and they made it to South Plymm in record time. The prison was easy enough to find, but Mila needed a way to get inside that wouldn't draw too much attention to her.

She worried her bottom lip between her teeth while she watched the prison and tried to form a plan. She perked up and came to attention when she noticed some younger men lining up with wheeled hampers. Laundry day. Mila scurried out of her hiding place and skulked along the edge of the building, catching the last boy in the line and yanking him around the corner. He let out a startled little yelp and she clapped a hand over his mouth.

"Give me your jumpsuit," she hissed.

"I-what?" he stammered.

"Your suit. Take it off and give it to me. Your laundry cart too."

"I can't," he squeaked.

"Don't make me hurt you, kid. Hurry up, before they notice you're missing and come looking for you."

She twisted his arm roughly behind his back and he yelped again. "Okay!" he relented. "You can have it."

Mila practically ripped the jumpsuit off of him once he'd unzipped it. She hurriedly pulled it on, yanking his cap off too and stuffing her long hair up under it. He couldn't have been more than sixteen, and the jumpsuit was a little baggy on her but fit well enough to pass. He stood hugging himself in just his underwear.

"Sorry about this," she muttered, punching him and knocking him out. He crumpled to the ground and Mila pulled the cap low over her face and grabbed the cart, hurrying to catch up to the others. A guard scowled at her.

"No time for pissing around, Yancey."

"Sorry," Mila muttered, keeping her head down. She pushed the cart along, eyes darting around the cells as she searched for Charlie. She gathered up bedsheets and stuffed them into the laundry cart, her panic and frustration beginning to mount. What if they had already transported Charlie? She finally spotted him on the third floor, sitting on one of the ratty beds with his head leaning against the wall. A guard unlocked the cell and then moved on to the next one. Mila darted inside.

Charlie gave her a wary look and stood up. "Be honest, do they actually clean the sheets, or do they just replace them with other dirty sheets? Is there a flea problem here?"

"You'll never know. Get in the cart."

"What?"

Mila raised her head and met his gaze. "Get in the cart, Charles."

"Mila?" He gaped at her. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to rescue you, sunshine. What do you think? Now get in the cart, we don't have much time."

She stripped the bedding and gestured to him impatiently.

"Are you seriously-"

"Yes, Charles. Get. In. The. Cart."

Charlie climbed into the cart, still looking stunned. Mila started to cover him with the sheets.

"Well, well. What do we have here?" A huge man leaned in the doorway of Charlie's cell. He looked like a giant tattooed pumpkin in the orange jumpsuit.

"Laundry day," Mila replied mildly, keeping her face turned away from him.

"Yeah? You gonna steam clean babyface, too?"

"Is that a euphemism for sex stuff?"

The man looked annoyed. "The boy who lives in this cell. Why's he in your laundry cart?"

"I don't have a person in my laundry cart."

"Oh, I think you do. Let me just check for you. You don't need anyone stowing away in the sheets."

He stepped forward and Mila pushed the cart as hard as she could, swinging it around and ramming the corner of it into his gut. He made a pained choking sound and his face turned a mottled purple color. He lunged around the cart and grabbed for her, but as soon as he spun her toward the wall she lifted her feet and used the wall to push off. The pumpkin man stumbled back and hit his head on the opposite wall. His grip loosened and Mila twisted away, kicking his legs out from under him and banging his head against the floor a couple of times.

"Are you okay?" Charlie peeked out from the laundry cart.

"I'm fine. Now get back in there." Mila pushed him down and stuffed the sheets back over his head. She slipped out of the call, shutting it behind her. It was harder to push the cart with Charlie in it but she hurried along as quickly as she could. She followed the other inmates down to the laundry room, veering down a different hallway when no one was looking.

"We'll have to just make a run for it," Mila said.

"Make a run for it?" Charlie poked his head out of the sheets again.

"I didn't have time to make a more in-depth plan. I just had to come get you out of this mess you landed yourself in. When the coast is clear, we run for the back door right there."

He climbed out of the cart and they waited in the shadowy alcove. The last laundry boy went into the laundry room, a guard following him in.

"Now," Mila whispered. They bolted from their hiding place, making a beeline straight for the service door. She heard someone shout for them to stop as they pushed the door open and ran out into the darkness. Mila shed her pilfered inmate uniform as they ran toward the docks. Footsteps pounded behind them as several guards came outside with lanterns. Mila picked the lock of a closed shop and ushered him inside. She relocked the door from the inside and they hunkered behind the shelves until the guards had passed.

"We need to get to my ship," Mila said as they ventured back out. They slipped quietly through the streets to the docks. When they were safely onboard Mila steered out over the open ocean, setting the ship to auto sail before rounding on Charlie.

"Just what the hell were you thinking?" she demanded angrily. "My father tries to talk you into confessing to things you didn't even do and you didn't think that was something you should have shared with me?"

"I-"

"I could have told you that my father is the devil incarnate. He's a dangerous man who uses and manipulates people."

"He said you were kidnapped," Charlie mumbled.

"Well I wasn't kidnapped, I ran away. He tormented me as a child. If I got anything wrong in my studies he'd smack my fingers with a ruler until they bled. He wanted me to start wearing a corset when I was ten, and when I put up a fuss with my nanny he came in and yanked the laces so tight he broke two of my ribs."

"He seemed so worried about you." Charlie scuffed his toe across the hardwood.

"He's a very good actor," Mila snapped. "He's always been good at convincing the outside world that he's a loving father but he's not. He wasn't concerned for my well being, he was just worried I'd tarnish the family name." She grabbed his shoulders and shook him. "For God's sake, Charlie. You should have told me he'd spoken to you."

Charlie stared at his feet while Mila shouted at him. She finally paused for a breath, some of her panicked energy ebbing. She stopped shaking him and pulled him into a tight hug, startling him.

"I thought I was never going to see you again, you big stupid idiot. Don't do that to me ever again."

She stepped back slightly, still holding onto him. He cracked the tiniest smile, looking chagrined.

"Sorry," he said. "I thought I was doing the right thing."

"I know." Mila pulled him down without thinking and kissed him. She felt him stiffen in surprise and realized what she was doing. She jumped back, her face flaming crimson.

"I'm sorry," she said breathlessly. "You need to get rid of that jumpsuit, so I'll just go get your bag from down below. Then we can figure out what we're going to do now."

"Mila." Charlie caught her hand and pulled her back. "You're talking really fast."

"Well we have a lot to do. We have to find a way to keep you from going back to prison and-" she broke off as Charlie smirked and gently cupped her face in his hands.

"Thanks for rescuing me," he said. Then he leaned down and kissed her.