Chapter 4
Blacklisted
Brendan was bouncing on a giant purple mushroom. He was clad in a beautiful wedding dress. Ellen stared at him from below. "Come join me, Ellen!" he cried joyously.
"But I'm allergic to mushrooms!" she yelled back, suddenly realizing she was dressed only in a garbage bag. "Wait, what the hell?"
"That's okay, Ellen, you're waking up now!"
She frowned angrily. "What?"
Brendan giggled and bounced away.
"LOBSTER BISQUE!" Ellen suddenly sat bolt upright, completely awake. She glanced around, confused by her surroundings for a moment, before looking down at her leg to see her jean leg rolled up to her knee and a bandaged ankle. She turned to see Charles and Feolan sitting in one plastic waiting chair, the other occupied by the mysterious man. She was in a hospital, suddenly remembering the needle. She hated needles.
"You were out for an hour and six minutes, I timed it! The doctor said not to worry. I'm taking care of any hospital bills." the man said in a nasal voice. His nose had a butterfly bandage on it and his glasses were tucked into his shirt pocket. A bruise clouded his left cheek.
Ellen eyed him, frowning. "You waited in here while I was all passed out?"
"I just felt guilty about what happened. I was worried." He frowned, sinking his head. "I'm so sorry you were dragged into that fight. That was terrible." He looked up again. "I'm Miguel, by the way."
"Ellen."
"You saved my life, and I can't thank you enough for that. Most people wouldn't have done that."
"Oh, she gets all the credit," Feolan muttered. "I'm the one who stepped in!"
"However," Miguel said slowly, lacing his fingers together on his lap. "We do have a slight problem now…"
"What is it?"
"Um, the List."
Ellen faintly remembered the Rocket who screamed at her. "And me being on it?"
He nodded gingerly.
She saw this and narrowed her eyes. "And…um, on a scale of 1 to 10, how big of a problem is this?"
"I'd say…" He hunched his shoulders. "An 11."
Ellen pinched the bridge of her nose and looked up at the clock. Close to midnight. God, things were not working out for her. At least she could call her mother in the morning without having to explain any hospital visits. "Okay," she said slowly, sighing. "Can we maybe fix this little problem? And what does The List even mean?"
His expression brightened. "I'm pretty sure we can fix it! I'm almost positive!" He paused, forehead creasing. "But…frankly, The List is Team Rocket's blacklist." He saw Ellen pale. "Don't worry, it has at least three hundred people on it, and you're pretty low on the list, I would assume. They don't even know exactly what you look like."
"So…" Ellen studied Miguel, his beaten stature and injuries, before getting an odd feeling in her stomach. "What number are you on the Hit List?"
He flipped hair away from his forehead with a twitch. "Um, I'm not sure, I've never finished hacking into the system…but, but I'm pretty sure I'll finish really soon, and then I can just delete you off the list!"
"That's all?"
"That's all. However…" He opened the laptop on his lap and began typing on it. "It would make me feel better if you accompanied me…look at this."
Ellen took the laptop from him to see a local news site bombard her with the top headlines: TEAM ROCKET AMBUSHES MT. MOON
'CERULEAN, KANTO- Late this evening Team Rocket ambushed Mt. Moon with an estimated fifty members. There is no body count as of now, but several trainers and Team Rocket members were killed in the ensuing skirmishes…'
She scanned down the page, praying that any mention of her not be in the article, but something else caught her eye.
'Three Team Rocket members were killed in a blast reportedly issued from a Molotov Cocktail. The ambusher was not found, but it has been one of the few times an assumed citizen may have countered a Team Rocket ambush. We are reminded of the vigilante group the Anti-Trainers from years past, now thought to be defunct after alleged numerous loss of life and overpowering by Team Rocket….'
"Anti-Trainers…" she paused, attempting to remember the night's past events. "You definitely mentioned them."
"Oh, yeah…" he took the laptop back from her. "Forgot that was in there…" he paused. "Full disclosure, I am associated with that group. That's the reason you got put on The List, because they assumed you were with me."
"Also probably because I took down two other Grunts," she muttered.
"And that was…pretty terrifying. Regardless!" He stood up. "Whenever you're ready, we can leave. The sooner we get you off that list, the better. I'll meet you at the entrance." He picked up his things and left.
Charles, Feolan and Ellen all looked at one another. Feolan wagged his tail. "Does this always happen to you guys? I kind of like it. Puts some spice in life!"
Charles shook his head in thought. "I suppose if this guy is going to help you, we should go with him. I mean, you have us, and he doesn't exactly look like a top-notch criminal."
Ellen sighed and rubbed her eyes. "I guess…what are we getting ourselves into?"
"Whatever it is," Charles said, "let's try to get out of it as soon as possible."
The doctor came back into the room and assured her that her leg would be fine, sending her on her way. The group met Miguel at the entrance of the hospital, a large modern room, and he quickly hung up his phone when he saw them.
Ellen looked at him suspiciously. "So…where to?"
"Don't worry." He recognized her discomfort. "We're just going to the library. It's right across the bridge over there." As they walked outside, he pointed to a faraway bridge, its skeleton faintly illuminated by lights. "Just stick with me, I don't know if the Rockets have left yet…"
She surveyed the area as they walked. Cerulean City was a mainly quiet city and they walked along one of its common streets, a tree-lined, commercial area twinkling with lights. "The police don't seem to be doing much."
"Most of the police force have been double agents for Team Rocket for years…" He sighed. "That's the problem. That's what the Anti-Trainers were for…are for, I guess."
"How long have they been around?"
"Years and years. Way before you were born. They started around the time Team Rocket started."
"Never heard of 'em."
He looked at her oddly. They continued past the busy part of Cerulean to a more residential area. "No offense, but do you live in the middle of nowhere? We've been in the newspapers for years. Anonymously and as a whole, but still."
She shrugged. "I don't read much, and my mom only likes to mention Team Rocket wrecking havoc. Not that it matters, anyway, half of the stuff I read I have a hard time understanding." He looked at her questioningly. She sighed, remembering that her mom didn't like her talking about Pokemon Speech Disorder. "Just…just dyslexia…"
"Ah, I see…" He trailed off into thought and then looking ahead again, stopped suddenly, wide-eyed. "Shit."
"What?" Ellen stopped as well, causing Feolan to crash into her legs. She traced where Miguel was looking to a darkened house. She could make out faint outlines of people in dark uniforms prowling around the yard…Team Rocket. She looked around. No one else besides them and her group. "What do we do?" she whispered to Miguel.
"Uh…move away from the area…" He made a move to do so before freezing again when one of the Team Rocket members pointed at them. Another figure, in a dark color but not in a uniform, turned towards them. "Run!" Miguel grabbed Ellen's arm and took off back into the city. She careened along with him before breaking free and running in stride with him, snatching Feolan and Charles up in her arms.
"In here!" Miguel ducked into a coffee shop and Ellen followed suite. They hunkered down at a table in the far back, the shopkeeper looking tiredly at them in hopes that they would buy something.
"Awesome!" Feolan exclaimed, plopping down on the table. "What the hell do we do now?"
"Do you think they saw us?" Charles asked nervously. Ellen repeated the question to Miguel.
He spoke in a whisper, breathing heavily from the run. "We were still in the light…I don't want to say so, but they might have. One of the Rocket Executives was with the Grunts. There must be something really expensive in that house."
"Should we do something about it?"
"Yes…but I can't afford to do that with you in tow. I don't want you even more exposed to Team Rocket." He looked at his watch nervously. "We have to get you out of the system in time before they start to recognize you."
Ellen's eyes widened. "Then let's get that started, I can't afford that at all."
"But I have to think of a good way to get to the library without getting caught…"
The door to the coffee shop swung open again, but when Ellen turned at the noise she saw a group of four Team Rocket Grunts entering the shop, followed closely by a young dark-haired man. All of them wore the terrifying Rocket trademark, a black bandana tied around the lower half of their faces, obscuring their noses and mouths and emblazed with the lower half of a skull.
"You two— hold him. You two— get them," the dark haired man said sharply to the Grunts. The four split, two going for the shopkeeper, the other two going for Ellen's group.
Both Ellen and Miguel shot up from their chairs, Feolan and Charles jumping to Ellen's side. The two Grunts advanced on them, followed closely by a Machoke and an Arbok. Charles and Feolan exchanged terrified glances— they knew there was no way they could win against the powerful Pokemon.
One of the Grunts came at Ellen, who sent a punch flying at him as he approached. He dodged it and pushed her into the wall, pinning her arms with his hands. She struggled and kicked at him wildly before he knocked back her head at the wall, dizzying her world. She blearily looked to her right to see Miguel in the same position.
Charles turned to Feolan. "You take the Arbok, I'll take the Machoke."
Charles wound back and then jumped at the Machoke, spewing small tongues of fire at him; but the Machoke grabbed him from midair and held him in a choking grasp. Feolan saw Charles and stopped in shock, and the Arbok struck him from the table and wound its coils around his body, trapping him.
"Guys!" Ellen cried hoarsely. Her mind whirled with fear, but the throbbing in her head made it impossible to muster up the strength to break free. She managed to make eye contact with the Machoke. "Please, don't hurt him—"
The dark-haired man strolled up behind the Grunts, pointedly flipping his cell phone shut in their line of vision. He pulled his bandana down to his neck. He was about Miguel's age with dark gelled hair and a neat grey suit. He had a sharp, mousy face and green eyes. Sitting on his shoulder was a Pikachu. Both the Pikachu and the man seemed strange to Ellen— the Pikachu looked sick, and the man seemed shorter than he looked, but he was taller than Ellen.
"Just got off the phone with the Boss," he said casually. "Told him about my little find. He wants you alive, Miggy…" he was looking at Miguel, then turned to Ellen. He paused. "You're a new face. Rookie, right?" Before Ellen could react, he held up his phone and shot a picture of her face. Miguel cursed quietly under his breath. "That's a real beaut'. One for the old photo album. Anti-Trainers still dragging themselves along, Miggy? Still crawling along?"
"She isn't involved, Donovan," Miguel said quietly. "Please let her go."
"You know," Donovan said, "I would honestly believe that if I hadn't had reports of a certain brunette female trainer with an albino Poochyena and a Charmander attack a group of Grunts at Mt. Moon."
The two were silent.
"Uh-huh," he said, scratching his Pikachu on its head. The Pokemon emitted a serious of weird gibberish noises before leaping onto the floor. "Well, this has been real fun, but I'm going to have to cut this short. My new friend here, Donovan Jr., is getting pretty hungry, and—"
"What does he eat, hair gel?" Ellen muttered.
Both Miguel and Donovan gaped at her. Surprisingly, Donovan laughed. "You know, I like you. You're funny. Regardless, you're still going to have to die. Donovan Jr. here as been engineered to be a carnivore, so that's pretty much—"
Ellen slammed her head into her Grunt's face, striking him square on the forehead and causing him to stumble back in pain. "Charles, Feolan!" Ellen shouted, going for a chair to use against Donovan.
Before she could do so, Donovan pushed her back against the wall again, and suddenly in his hand appeared a huge kitchen knife, pressed against her throat. She was suddenly reminded of the boy trainer who was murdered at Mt. Moon.
Miguel stared at them, fear crossing his eyes. "Donovan, stop—"
"You try that one more time and get your funny fucking little throat sliced open," he snarled. Out of the corner of her eye Ellen could see Charles pleading with the Machoke. "Just be glad the Boss doesn't want you alive like that poor sap over there, at least you'll go moderately quick—"
There was a white blur through the air and Feolan was on Donovan's head, clawing and biting at him. Simultaneously Ellen pushed Donovan's arm away and went for the other Grunt holding Miguel. The Grunt jerked back in fear; Miguel bashed his head into a wall and the Grunt crumpled to the floor. The Machoke, confused, absently loosened his grip on Charles enough for the Charmander to push away.
"GAH!" Donovan finally managed to rip Feolan off of his head, throwing the wolf to the side. He bounced and then scuttled back to Ellen. Donovan Jr. leapt up onto the table and hissed at Ellen and Miguel, revealing small, sharp fangs. Behind the Pokemon, Donovan and the Grunt hovered menacingly, the table the only thing separating the two groups.
Donovan Jr. and Donovan both lunged at the same time. Ellen jerked away from the curving arch of Donovan's blade before grabbing Miguel's wrist and ducking away from the table, dragging the man with her until he picked up into a run.
"YOU FUCKERS!" Donovan howled after them.
They tore past the two other Grunts and the now dead shopkeeper, Charles and Feolan close at their heels, and shot out the door, taking off down the dark streets of Cerulean City.
The Rockets watched from the coffee shop.
Donovan Jr. growled sadly.
Donovan picked the Pikachu up before sighing heavily. He surveyed the situation. One dead bystander, an unconscious Grunt, and two escaped Anti-Trainers. Just great. Giovanni was going to be overjoyed.
The group barreled down the city streets, Miguel jerking his wrist away from Ellen so he could lead them through the city. A few moments into running, Charles managed to catch up to Ellen's side.
"Ellen," he managed to pant, "I don't feel so hot…I need to stop running…"
She looked at him maniacally before hauling him into her arms. "Better?"
"No…"
"You better not barf on me!" She continued running until she looked down quickly and saw that Charles was glowing, his body emitting a soft light, and the only other glowing she had ever seen was in that bad vampire movie, so she knew it was a bad thing.
She ducked into an ally and almost threw Charles on the ground, Feolan following them curiously. Charles began to shine brighter and brighter, resulting in Ellen and Feolan both darting behind a trashcan in fear. The light grew insanely bright, then extinguished completely. Ellen and Feolan eyed each other in fear.
"Charles…?" Ellen asked, poking her head out from behind the trashcan. Her eyes widened. "Oh my God!"
Charles had turned into a lizard with bright, crimson red skin and formidable claws— a Charmeleon. He admired his new form, gaping. "Wow, this is amazing! I never thought I'd evolve!"
"My baby is growing up," Feolan sniffed mockingly, then frowning. "That's just great, but we're got bigger things on our hands and paws right now."
On cue, Miguel ducked his head around the ally. "God, Ellen, where were you?" He noticed Charles. "Oh, he evolved. Awesome." He fidgeted nervously. "Look, that's fantastic, but we need to keep moving."
"You!" Ellen walked up and narrowed her eyes at him, jabbing him in the chest with an accusing finger. "I want to know what's going on right NOW. I almost got shanked by some random criminal, and now they have a picture of me, and I am probably sure as fucked—"
"—I know, I know, I know, I'm sorry—"
"—and let me guess, you can't get my photo off now, and now they know who I am and will probably follow me everywhere and—"
"Stop, okay, stop, please." Ellen quieted for a moment. Miguel rubbed the bridge of his nose. He looked extremely tired. "I know, and I'm very sorry. We need to take things as they go now. Right now, I'm going to get you to the safest place I know, and then we'll go from that, okay?"
"How the hell do I know this place is 'safe'?"
"Look, I'm an Anti-Trainer, we are for the common good, you can look up past news paper articles, and why would Team Rocket be after me anyway?" He sighed. "There's not much you can do now, anyway. You're stuck. Besides, from the way you handled that situation, you could mostly likely beat me up right now if you wanted."
Ellen's stomach sunk. He was right in both cases— her hyperactivity from PSD had driven her mother to put her in several athletic classes since she was very young. Kickboxing. Boxing. Track. "Okay, fine. Let's go."
They continued through the city streets, weaving through alleyways and city squares, dipping through the pools of lamplight. Ellen's mind was numb— she knew she should have been thinking quick at that moment, but for what all had happened, she could only follow Miguel like a dumb dog.
They continued onto the outskirts of town and weaved across a long bridge over the river that spanned Cerulean. Miguel was constantly peering around, looking over his shoulder, craning his neck to see ahead. Finally, they made a sharp left turn and stood at a line of thick trees.
"Well," Ellen said, "this looks safe."
Miguel rolled his eyes and ducked into the trees, Ellen following closely behind. They continue for a while through the forest before stopping at a cave wall. Miguel dug his fingers into the wall, bringing away a secret door.
"Dude!" Ellen exclaimed, examining the door. She paused. "Isn't this the Cerulean Cave?"
"Yup." Miguel and Ellen entered the doorway; he closed it behind them. A dim light lit the cave tunnel. "We use part of it as a base."
"Isn't Mewtwo here?"
"Team Rocket has it."
She quieted. "Oh."
They continued a seemingly long time before stopping at a door. Ellen could hear the mumble of various voices behind the thick wood of the door. She stopped several steps away from the door, unsure of what kind of situation she was getting herself into.
Miguel went to open the door but stopped and turned when he noticed that she wasn't moving. "Relax."
"Yeah…not happening right now."
He shrugged, turning his back to her to unlock the door. "There's nothing much I can say anymore. It's get killed by Team Rocket or get help from the Anti-Trainers. There's not much of a choice anymore."
She bit her lip before frowning. "Fine," she said shortly, and the door opened with a click.