AUTHOR'S NOTE:
This chapter wasn't edited as much as the other were, but I still think it's ready for upload. Please, though- constructive criticism is loved in reviews. So do it! DO IT NOWWWW!!~
Chapter Three: Blood-red skies
The sun had nearly reached it's zenith, and the crowds that usually populated the marketplace had thinned a bit, rushing to get inside before the heat of the day. Wes had returned Sheila and Snatch to their pokeballs, worried that they would be trampled in the churning crowd. Stalls with brightly colored canopies and neat little stores were crammed along the wide expanse of road. The dirt was so well-packed that little dust was created by the mass of people, but it did Wes no favors. He would need all the concealment he could get if his plan was to work. But it worried him little, as he was a practiced master at his art and frequented the local markets. His calculating eyes swept the rows of stalls and store windows like a Houndoom seeking the weakest of the herd. All he needed was one opening, one inattentive shopkeeper...
...one woman with a waylaid basket. Excellent.
He walked casually down the street, sidestepping pedestrians and appearing to survey the wares for sale.
But his focus never left the woman and her basket.
She was crouched near the end of the marketplace where the crowds were a little thinner, fussing over a wailing baby in a veiled buggy. The basket full of produce lay unsupervised a few feet behind her. No time was better than now.
"What are you doing?" Wes started as the voice jarred his concentration. He gritted his teeth.
"Not now, Snatch. I'm getting us lunch." And, without waiting for him to respond, Wes closed the connection. He had to focus on the task at hand.
It was so simple. So easy.
He strolled by without even looking at her. After all, what was so strange about a young boy perusing the marketplace?
They did not see him expertly tuck the apples into his pockets. No one did. And Wes could not help but smile.
But it was not over yet; he had to wait.
He strolled casually away from the bustling market until he reached the corner and turned out of sight. As was his custom, he ran as fast as he could. He churned up puffs of dust in his wake as his feet pounded the earthen road, the apples banging against his thighs in rhythm with his strides. This street was nearly deserted, but he did not stop running until he had ducked into an alley, away from prying eyes. This one, he noted, was darker than most, shielded from the sun by the roofs of the nearby buildings. Red roofs. Blue signs on the left one. He was near the Battle Circle. His keen eras could pick up none of the tumult of battle, however, so it was safe to sit and eat. No one would be coming through here for a while. Wes dug into his pockets for the pokeballs and released the Eevees simultaneously, eager to begin the meal. It seemed like a lifetime since he had last eaten. He laid a large, yellow-green apple in front of each pokemon, and wasted no time in starting his own. He munched away with a complete lack of decorum, juice running down his dusty cheeks. Snatch and Sheila gnawed on their apples like a dog would a bone, holding them between their front paws and tucking in with gusto. Sheila's eyes glowed as she licked juice off of her muzzle.
"It's good!" she said brightly. "Much better than foraging in iron acorns." Wes raised an eyebrow. "Iron acorns?" Snatch nodded vigorously, pointing at a group of metallic trash cans with his tail. "Those things." he said. "There's enough food in them, if you know where to look, but most of it is spoiled and dirty. Not nearly as good as these apples." Wes laughed aloud. "Those aren't acorns, Snatch! They're called trash cans. Hardly anyone uses them anymore, though." Sheila stared at him quizzically, abandoning her nearly-finished apple. "Why?"
Wes shrugged. "I'm not sure. I haven't been inside a building long enough to look."
Snatch's ears suddenly pricked up.
"Do you hear that?"
Wes froze.
Sheila slowly got to her paws, her mouth slightly open to taste the air.
"Human cubs. And they're coming this way."
No sooner had she spoken than a group of young boys rounded the corner. They looked about Wes's age, but the similarities stopped there. They wore clean, pressed clothing, carefully brushed and parted hair, and shoes on their feet. The boys laughed boisterously, elbowing each other in the ribs, until they saw Wes. Then they froze, the laughter gone from their faces. After a moment's terse silence, a heavyset boy stepped forward. He was the picture of cleanliness, his blonde hair parted neatly on his plump head and his face freshly scrubbed. He looked like the kind of happy, laughing child Wes saw in toy stores, except for his eyes. Those watery, cruel, calculating eyes.
"Who are you?" he demanded. Wes stood up, his breakfast forgotten. "Who are you?" he spat. "This isn't your alley. I'm allowed to eat here if I want to."
Topaz eyes bored into blue ones as the two seven-year-olds stared each other down. A nervous-looking red haired boy elbowed the blonde.
"Vance, look!" he whispered. "Eevees!" Vance's small blue eyes widened as they rested on the Eevees. Then they narrowed greedily. And Wes hated him for it.
"Where did you get those?" the rich boy demanded, "You couldn't have caught them- you aren't ten yet. And your mother can't even afford to clean you properly, so you obviously couldn't have bought such rare-"
"You shut up about my mother!" Wes barked, fists clenched. Vance grinned. He had struck a nerve.
"I'll say whatever I like about your mother, ratboy." he said coldly, his cohorts sniggering.
"Now, where did you get those Eevees?" Sheila seemed apart from the scene, staring far into the distance, but Snatch snarled, baring his fangs. The boys winced.
"I'll ask you one more time," Vance growled, eyeing the plucky male warily. "Tell me where I can get some, or I'll take yours." Wes burned with cold fury. Vance only shrugged, abandoning the issue.
"Now that you mention it, I'll just take your pokemon anyway. It's not like you've got a use for them."
At that moment, several things happened at once.
Wes threw himself at Vance just as a rather obtuse dark-haired boy made a grab for Sheila. Snatch was instantly upon him, howling with rage. All was chaos in the alley as the boys screamed and hollered, trying to snatch the clawing, biting Eevees while Vance and Wes went hammer and tongs. Wes pinned the bigger boy to the ground and hurled punches at his pudgy face, scoring several hits. But Vance had not given up. He kicked out with his legs, throwing the smaller boy into the wall with a sickening crunch. Stunned and fighting for breath, Wes found himself dodging a flurry of blows and curses.
"Take that, you hobo!"
Pain lanced through Wes's face as Vance's fist sunk into his eye. He growled savagely, tackling the bigger boy, but he quickly found himself pinned beneath Vance's bulk, thrashing wildly and fighting for air. But it was no good- Vance was too big, and Wes's struggles were growing weaker. His lungs screamed for air and the blackness at the edges of his vision threatened to swallow him. He could hear the sad, faraway voices growing louder and clearer... any moment now and they would be on top of him. But he gritted his teeth and steeled himself for one final effort. He would not let it end here! Wes gave a colossal heave with his last ounce of strength and hurled Vance off of him. The bigger boy collapsed to the ground and Wes seized his chance, unleashing his fury on his would-be murderer. He was conscious of nothing but the crunch of skin on bone and a terrible, animal rage as he rained down blow after blow. Vance was struggling in vain to escape when Wes felt strong arms jerk them apart.
"ENOUGH!"
Wes recognized the voice immediately, cursing.
Venn.
The shopkeeper's chest heaved as though he had run for miles. He had seized both boys by the back of their shirts, one in each hand. The others were frozen in place, terrified by the mask of twisted fury upon Venn's face. Even Vance looked dumbstruck.
But not Wes. Instead, his eyes burned with irritation.
He wanted another go at Vance. And Venn had ruined it. He had stuck his preachy, all-seeing nose in Wes's business again.
"You're a right pack of rats, you know that?" the shopkeeper snarled. "Attacking a boy littler than you, stealing pokemon. Your mums'll hear about this, make no mistake." He released Wes and Vance.
"Now go home. Get!"
The bratty boys needed no second bidding. They made an undignified scramble out of the alley, Sheila hissing at them all the way. Wes turned to his Eevees, but Venn held his shoulder firmly.
"Not you. You're not going anywhere."
Wes gritted his teeth. His injuries were beginning to throb, and he was in no mood for a lecture. He yanked his shoulder away.
"You stay away from me!" he snarled. Venn met his glare unflinchingly. "You did a curst fool thing, lad. If I hadn't been there-"
"I would have been fine!" he cried. Snatch and Sheila flinched. "Wes-"
"We were handling it just fine without you." he said sharply, ignoring them. "We don't need your pity-"
"'Handling it fine,' eh?" said Venn, eyebrows raised. "Generally people who are 'handling it fine' don't have a black eye and split lip."
Wes gingerly touched his eye and flinched as a bolt of pain seared his face.
"And as for my pity," said Venn conversationally, "You don't want it, so I won't give it. I didn't come here to feel sorry for you."
"So why did you come?" Wes snapped. The shopkeeper gestured to Sheila.
"Ask her."
Wes turned to Sheila, who looked shamefaced. He was absolutely dumbfounded.
"What-?"
"It's true." she said quietly. "I could tell that it would come to a fight, and there was no way we could win. I called out for help, and he answered."
It took him a moment for the enormity of the situation to wash over him.
"He answered?"
"Aye."
Wes jumped, whirling around to face Venn. "You can hear her?"
He nodded. "Most true trainers have the gift, lad."
Wes hesitated. "Could those boys hear her too?"
Venn chuckled. "I doubt those little terrors could hear anything. They don't have half your guts, Wes."
The little boy's eyes narrowed. "How do you know my name?"
Wes didn't even have to see Snatch's ears droop. He already knew.
"Don't be too hard on 'em, now." the shopkeeper said gently. "They were only trying to help."
Wes sighed, defeated. He could feel another sermon coming on. Any minute now.
But none came. Instead,Venn gestured to the alleyway's entrance.
"Well, now seems like an excellent time to leave, don't you think?"
"Leave?" echoed Sheila. "They wouldn't dare come back, would they?"
"Not alone." said Venn gravely. "They're too cowardly for that. But they'll certainly bring the police."
Wes cursed inwardly. "They'll split us up if they find us, won't they?"
"You'll be lucky to stay out of the tank, lad. You've scored several punches on the mayor's son."
"I don't care. He deserved it for trying to steal Snatch and Sheila."
Venn was unable to suppress a smile. "Aye, he did, but that's no cause for hitting him. You still nearly got yourself killed."
"No he didn't." piped up Snatch."Vance doesn't have the guts to kill anyone."
The older man looked at the Eevee with something like pity in his eyes. "Maybe. But you'd all be plenty more bloodied up than this, and that's as good as a death sentence 'round here."
Venn suddenly turned, as if listening to something no one else could hear.
"We're wasting time. Come on, you three- it's going to be a long night."
Wes glanced up and, true to the shopkeeper's word, the sun began vanishing below the rooftops.
The sky was the color of blood.