"Daddy, I want a baby Kangaskhan!"
Professor Spruce smiled at his nine year old daughter as she bounced up and down in her seat. Of course, it could have been the jeep making her bounce up and down; despite its all-terrain capabilities, it wasn't the smoothest of rides. "Sorry, Sara, those babies have to stay with their mommies or they won't grow big and strong!"
The jeep ride was one he bought and paid for, along with the tour guide, a young Ranger who seemed just as enthused to be there as Spruce's young daughter. He smiled at her indignant expression, so much like the one his late wife used to wear. Her dark brown hair and tan complexion were his, but her sharp jaw, slender nose and bright green eyes were hers. Having her almost made the loss of his one true love bearable, he reflected.
"When I grow up, I'm gonna have my own Kangaskhan, and it's gonna have a mommy and a daddy, and little brothers and sisters, and they're gonna all be happy!" Professor Spruce couldn't help but smile; she had her mother's drive and determination, too, and it would take her far. He sat back and thought about his wife, dead these past six years, and her desire for Sara to be a Pokemon master. The Pokemon professor knew that, like with all things, he would give in to this. Sara would receive a starter pokemon on her tenth birthday, and start her journey like so many others.
"Professor Spruce, sir? We've almost arrived, sir."
Spruce glanced out of the window to see that they were indeed deep into the canyon; they were driving along what amounted to a gravel path, and the jeep was draped in shadow from the half-mile high cliffs. Even though it was three in the afternoon, the jeep's headlights were on, and they had slowed so that they didn't risk running into any wild Stantler. Spruce could hear the roar of the distant waterfall, near where their destination was. "Ranger, do you know how much the meteorite's impact has disturbed the pokemon in the area?"
"No, sir. We know that one of the local Tauros herds has fled the area, but most Pokemon seem to have ignored it. That is, except for the local Xatu population. Can't find a single one anywhere else!" The ranger didn't take his eyes off the road for a second, thankfully, as he had to swerve to miss a pair of Sentret wrestling on the path.
"The Xatu, you say? It's too early in the summer for them to be moving from their nesting grounds. Do you think this meteorite has some psionic properties?" Spruce paused a moment in his note-taking to tighten his daughter's seat belt as the road seemed to be getting rougher. She barely noticed, as she was watching at a wild Wingull pace the truck just outside her window. It cawed once and banked, and it was only at that moment that Spruce noticed that they had pulled alongside the river. The jeep had slowed to a crawl as they had to be careful not to disrupt any sleeping Geodude.
"I wouldn't know much about the psy-whatever properties, sir, but we've had some problems with some poachers or smugglers or some-what sneaking around ever since. Xatu's are hard enough to find in the wild that I guess they want to take advantage of their gathering—hey, what's that ahead?"
The jeep inched along to a stop just in front of what looked like a Pokeball. It was maybe three inches across, with a red top and white bottom. "Hold on, Ranger, I'll look." He undid his seat belt, barely noticing his daughter doing the same. They both stepped out of the car on his side, since there was barely a foot of space between the raging river and the driver's side doors.
Spruce slid around to the front of the car to examine the object. "A pokeball? Is there a trainer in the area? Ranger, didn't you say that this area was restricted to trainers?"
"Yeah, Professor, but you know trainers, don't follow rules unless someone's there to—what the hell?!"
Suddenly, the ball in front of the jeep started glowing brightly. Spruce could hear his daughter scream, and a high-pitched voltorbvoltorbvoltorb, and suddenly he knew exactly what was in front of the jeep! "Sara! GET DOWN!" He threw himself on top of his daughter, shielding her from the Explosion. The deafening sound of metal and glass tearing was all he knew for a few seconds, and then he knew nothing.
"What are we supposed to do now? Kill the kid? I didn't join for murder, damn it!"
"A little late for that, ain't it? You see the Ranger? That damn Voltorb's Explosion tore up the entire jeep! Blew shrapnel and glass right into 'im! Looked like a damn Poliwhirl, pinned up in science class, all dissected and shit. You think they'll consider it an accident? Freaking hamburger, he was. Couldn't 'magine the look on his face was, though—what's left of it, anyway."
Sara couldn't understand what they were talking about. What happened to the Ranger? Wasn't she in a jeep? She tried to move, but everything hurt, like she'd fallen off her bike again. She was lying on her back on something hard and cold, like stone. And she couldn't see, there was something covering her eyes...
"Hey, the kid's coming 'round. You sure those ties are tight?"
"Yeah, yeah. Though I don't know who's got worse luck, the old man or her."
"She's still alive."
"That's my point, idiot. She won't be for long."
"You ass, she can hear you!"
Sara tried to sit up, but her hands were tied behind her back. She whimpered, tried to cry out for her daddy—"Mmmph!"—something was in her mouth. What was going on?
"Alright, I'm getting the boss. You, just—take care of her, alright? Boss won't like a damn kid messing with his plans here."
"I didn't sign up to kill a damn kid, you bastard!"
"I don't care! Just do it, or I'll let Jerry take care of her, and believe me, he won't make it quick!"
She heard one of the men's steps echoing as he walked away, like they were in some hallway or something. Where was she? Where was her Daddy?
"Damn it. Damn it...uh, I'm sorry little girl. I really am, but there's nothing I can do, you get me?" Sara felt him reach down and pick her up by her shoulders like she weighed nothing. She tried to kick him, but her foot couldn't hit anything before he draped her over his shoulder. "Hey—hey! Calm down, damn it! I'm not gonna hurt you, I swear. Alright? Calm down."
Sara did. She stopped fighting him as he took her up an incline, his footsteps echoing, the only other noise being the fluttering of bat wings. It was how Sara knew they were in a cave; they must be where her Daddy wanted to go. But where was he? Why was this man carrying her somewhere?
His voice echoed through the tunnel as the went wherever the man intended to take her. "...didn't want this to happen...I'm sorry about your dad, little girl. Didn't mean for that to happen, but it's war, you know? In war, people die."
Sara sniffled. Dead? Daddy? She started fighting again, causing the man to stumble and curse.
"Damn it, girl! Calm down, if anyone sees us, they're gonna kill you! Hey, you listening to me?!"
She kept trying to kick him—tough to do, draped over his shoulder—but the man lost his patience, and swung her into the side of the tunnel. She felt her head meet the tunnel wall, and with a loud THWACK!, she blacked out.
Sara came to on the floor of a cavern, the only company to her dulled senses a fluttering of bat wings. She tried to move, only to notice that her hands and feet were still tied tightly and the right side of her face felt like it was on fire. She could see, though, her blindfold having been lost somewhere along the way.
Well, that is, she could see the pitch blackness of the unlit cavern, reaching on and on forever. She couldn't see the tunnel entrance, or the man who brought her there. Did he leave her here to die? Good, she thought. I can be with mommy and daddy...
Tears flowed freely down her cheeks. A sob choked in the back of her throat. No, she thought. It's not over, I'm not gonna let them win! Sara turned over onto her stomach, then forced herself into a sitting position. Her head throbbed painfully, sending shocks of pain like lightning through her head and making her stomach heave painfully, but in the end, she was able to force herself into a kneeling position. Breathing heavily, she forced herself to inch forward, looking for something—anything—that she could use to saw through her bindings.
"Ow," she whimpered, as her scraped knees rubbed against the rough cave floor. Sara tried her best not to make a noise, since the cavern made it echo like an auditorium at one of Daddy's lectures. She stopped when she found the cave wall, pitted and streaked from the timeless flow of water dripping down its sides.
Feeling along, using the side of her arm and body to feel for anything remotely sharp, she crawled on her knees along the side of the cavern. Inch by inch, she crawled, until she couldn't remember how long she'd been there. Finally she found a small outcropping with a sharper edge (thanks to a particularly painful cut on her arm). She turned around and began sawing back and forth, back and forth at the bindings on her wrists.
After an eternity of back and forth, she finally felt them give, and her hands were free. They hurt from the rough rock, and her wrists were bleeding, but she was free! She quickly undid the bindings on her ankles and stood up. Her head pounded, but she didn't fall over, or throw up, which was a small victory. I have to get out of here, she thought.
Sara started feeling along the side of the cavern, trying to find a tunnel entrance. She was sure that anyone with a flashlight would be able to see where she went from the trail of blood dripping from her hands, but she didn't care. With each step, she felt more in control of her body and less like she was going to lose her lunch, and taking deep breaths seemed to help.
The kuh-thump, kuh-thump noise of a pair of boots made her freeze. It seemed to be coming from the other side of the cave; sure enough, a yellow glow was coming from a tunnel, lightly illuminating the cavern. The Zubat hanging from the ceiling started shrieking and crashing about as it got brighter, and with a curse, the light was dimmed to almost nothing, but not before Sara saw a tunnel going off just to her right. She ran, trying to make as little noise as possible, and avoid tripping or crashing into a wall. Keeping her hand on the wall, she descended deeper into the mountain.
Sara hadn't heard anything that sounded like a person for a while now, which she counted as good, but her only choices at this point were to either go back and risk discovery, or chance heading deeper into the mountain and find an exit. She didn't know how long she'd been walking through the maze of tunnels and caverns in the mountain, but she could hear the roar of water from an underground river. She was parched and dirty, and tried to move towards it as best she could in the dark.
Sara turned a corner, and suddenly before her was the most beautiful sight she'd ever seen. Water flowed down out of the side of a giant cavern, into a small pool, before it roared past to the other side and disappeared under the wall. Glittering through the water was light from the outside, reflecting beautiful greens and blues and purples across the ceiling and floor. Sara dragged her tired feet forward to the side of the pool, where a small tub of water had been filled, almost by design.
She used her hands to cup water and splash it on her face and arms, which had been covered by dust, grime and some blood. Her shirt and pants were ruined, torn and dirty, but at least she felt cleaner.
A clack, clickety-clack made her jump. Some rocks came loose on a perch along the wall. Sara looked up apprehensively, uttering a tentative "Hello?" and inching away.
Something swooped just past her ear. "Agh! No, go away!" Sara screamed and covered her head. It was a Pokemon, from what she could see. Sara tried to catch her breath as she watched it come to rest in the shadows, obscuring it from view.
She watched the ledge hesitantly, where a number of shadows were moving around. There was an echo coming from there, obscured by the sound of the waterfall, but Sara could just make it out. A cheery "nah-too," warbling and echoing but still discernible. The Pokemon that had swooped over her head was a mother Xatu!
"Oh, wow, it's so pretty..." Sara stared up at the beautiful bird Pokemon, its white, emerald and violet plumage glimmering from the light mist of the waterfall and the light reflected from outside. It looked almost like it was glittering, and Sara was standing to get a better look without even realizing it.
It affixed its beady left eye on her, capturing her in its gaze. It seemed to draw itself into her mind, memories of the past day flowing before her eyes. Images of her father laughing, of the flash of light that had been the Explosion, of waking up and hearing the two men talking about her and her father, of being trapped in the dark. It looked deeper, dredging up memories she didn't know she had—of a tea party with a wild Abra that had Teleported into her room, before her Daddy had come in and scared it away. Of pushing a bully that was making fun of a younger kid. Of her mother, with her dark hair and green eyes, and warm, loving smile as she slipped away in the hospital bed.
"Squaaack!"
A Murkrow had perched just behind her, breaking her trance. Sara shrieked again and fell into the water. She tried to hold onto the ledge, but it was slippery and her fingers couldn't hold. She slipped under the water and was carried away.
"Oh, come on! Not one bite!"
The fisherman sat on his favorite perch, where the setting sun was obscured by the cliff side around the bend in the river. Most people would probably avoid the spot at this time of day, but what separated Gerald from the average amateur fisherman/Pokemon trainer was that he knew the habits of the local pokemon. The Whiscash and Goldeen he made his living off of always avoided the surface when it was sunny, because local Ursaring were known to spend their days trying to bat them out of the water for a quick meal. Usually, they were forced to eat Magikarp—both because they were too stupid to learn any survival skills, and because there were so damn many of them.
He leaned back in the shade, where it was comfortably cool. If nothing else, the serenity of this spot never seemed to dim and he was always calm and at peace with the world after a day's work, successful or not.
He sighed sleepily, and would have drifted off, if not his attention was drawn to a bird soaring above his head. It seemed to be circling, steadily descending from some great height. He squinted, barely making it out from the sun glittering off its body. Was it a Fearow? He saw them every now and then, usually to poach a fish somewhere along the waterline. No, its wings were all wrong. Its belly was greenish, now that it was getting closer. "What is that?"
A Xatu! Gerald's eyebrows almost disappeared into his hairline, he was so surprised. They almost never came to this area, with the abundance of Murkrow. What could it have been doing here?
It perched on a branch not ten feet away from him. He contemplated trying to catch it—except that it would probably be considered poaching, even if this was outside the designated Safari Zone. Still, he watched it curiously, wondering why it was staring at him.
Its attention went away from him, and it drew one white wing away from its body. The Xatu seemed to be pointing at something off to his left. He turned and saw with a burst of excitement, his pole was shaking! He'd caught something!
He yanked it from between the rocks he'd braced it against, and started tugging with all his might. Man, this was a big one! It had to be something really strong, like a Lantern, or a Sharpedo! They typically didn't stray from the sea, but every so often he'd hear about one being found upstream. This could be his biggest catch yet!
He wrestled and heaved with all his might, and after a few minutes, his pole gave way and he fell on his back. "Ugh...ow! What?" His line must have snapped! Damn it! "Aw, hell. There goes that—"
Something heavy hit him in the chest, knocking him to the ground. He sat there, gasping for breath and swearing, trying to push whatever it was off of him. "Good lord, what is this—"
A kid! He caught a kid! A little girl, from the long hair. Blood was trickling from a gash in her forehead, and what he could see from her torn clothes and bare skin, she was bruised and beaten. The Xatu took off with a strangely satisfied caw, but Gerald didn't notice, as he was already carrying her back to town.
"Sara? Sara Spruce? Can you hear me?"
Who was that? Who were they talking to? Someone or something was tugging at her eyelids. Her head was pounding. A bright light made her cringe, and she tried to shake it away. Her arms moved sluggishly—well, one did. The other was weighed down.
She opened her eyes to two people standing over her, one a muscular man wearing a red and green uniform that said SAFARI ZONE across the front, and the other a pretty, pink-haired woman in a nurse's uniform. She tried to sit up, and the man gave her a steadying hand, as her left arm was in a cast. She stared at it in surprise. How did this happen? She heard someone talking. The voice belonged to the nurse, she thought. Wait, she was saying something.
"...thought we lost you! Gave us quite a fright!"
The nurse smiled at her, and she smiled back hesitantly. "Uh..." Her voice was scratchy and rough, and she started coughing almost immediately. The man handed her free arm a glass of water, which she sipped to relieve her parched throat. When she had enough, he placed it on a table next to her bed.
"There now, Missy. Feel better?" She nodded to the man, whose kind smile and warm eyes belied his strength.
"Sara? Can you tell us what happened, dear?" Sara?
"Umm...who—who's Sara?"
The nurse looked like someone had punched her in the stomach, she went so pale. If it weren't so serious, she may have laughed out loud, but the look the man was giving her was strangely somber. "You are, dear. You're Sara Spruce."
"What? No, I'm..." I'm...who am I? She started shaking, and the man pushed her gently back into the bed. The nurse fiddled with something attached to her arm, and she stopped shaking and became drowsy. Before she knew it, she was asleep, the name Sara Spruce drifting through her mind, bringing up nothing—not a memory, impression, or a feeling of any kind.
"I'm sorry, Ranger. I don't think she remembers what happened."
The gruff man grimaced. "She was our last chance to find out what happened to Greg. We found most of him, and his jeep, in the river. Not far from where we found the Professor's body."
Nurse Joy wiped away a tear. "Such a tragedy. That poor girl lost her father this morning, and it looks like any memory of who she is. I hope that some time will help that, but there's a chance she'll never recover her memories. We may never know what happened to poor Gregory and Professor Spruce."
"My Rangers are searching for anyone or anything that can shed some light onto this. Hopefully, we'll be able to find whoever did this, and when I do, it'll be a looooong time before I hand them over to Officer Jenny, believe you me, Nurse Joy."
She looked away; Joy didn't usually condone violence, but she found it hard to disagree. "What makes you think there was someone responsible?"
The Ranger turned towards the entrance to the Pokemon center. As he walked away, he said, "We can tell that the Professor was shielding the girl with his body. He died immediately from the blast. What we did find, however, were two pairs of bootprints that didn't belong to Greg or the Professor. They weren't obscured by the blast, so they came after. And they took the girl away, where they did Lugia-knows-what to her. They sure weren't there to help!"
He spat into a trash can. Nurse Joy could read in the set of his shoulders how angry he was. She was only glad he wasn't angry at her; but she couldn't bring herself to feel sorry for the people he was after.
Joy looked into the room where, normally, an injured Pokemon would be resting, at the little girl who'd seen far too much violence at such a young age and would likely be traumatized for life because of it. She hoped to anything listening that the Rangers found whoever did this. Because they would be merciful. If she found the ones responsible, she'd chop them up into little pieces and feed them to her Houndoom!