Chapter 4

Hunter, young hunter, you stray far from home.

Wander the night's eye, forever alone.

Hunter, young hunter, you bear the dark coat.

Soon we shall come and tear out your throat.

THUD! The sound travels through the ground, resonating through my bed.

I'm awake, my heart thumping sickeningly hard. Just a bad dream, the third one tonight.

For a moment the unfamiliar room confuses me. The door is in the wrong place and my scratchy woollen blankets are thinner than usual.

Board. That's right; I took board with Mr. Pierce. I have to go to work today…

I groan and glance at my Pokegear. The red lights hover above my removed glove.

4.12am

My alarm is set for 5.00am. There is no way I'm getting back to sleep now. I hate being woken by an alarm and the horrible heart racing feeling that it leaves behind. Much like this.

Nerves make me fidget. My mind courses with the things I will need to do come dawn. Simple things, like where I left my socks (at the foot of my bed), how to get out the narrow hall and into the stable-yard, where the light switch is…

Time takes a long time to pass when it is being watched, the temperamental bitch. When it feels like some time has passed, I glance at the glowing red numbers.

4.15am…

4.19am…

4.21am…

4.22am…

I swear that clock is slow…

.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

I jump, the horrible tight-chested feeling making me feel sick.

I hate alarms!

I fumble in the dark to find the light switch, and fail.

Where the hell are my socks?

I growl and pull on my shoes without them.

It takes me what feels like an hour to find my way out of the hall and into the stable-yards. A solar lamp dimly greets me as I open the backdoor to the dusty stall

"You're late."

I jump at Rebecca's voice, but not because she gave me a fright. Okay, maybe I wasn't expecting her yet, but no, she didn't give me a fright. I never get frights.

I quickly flatten my hair, then wonder if it makes me look stupid and mess it up again. I haven't looked at her yet so she can't have seen me.

Be cool man…

"Hey…" I make my voice sound deep and manly. Sheilas love that.

Rebecca rolls her eyes. "You've got about thirty deliveries today- whatever. The cart's ready, the list is on the seat. I'm busy so…" She makes a vague shooing gesture with her hands before exiting though the stable doors.

The rickety cart doesn't look very stable; it's hitched to an aging Ponyta gelding. Its fiery mane and tail have dimmed and shortened with the years and its back has swayed with long hours of work. I give it a cautious pat but it doesn't seem to care. I climb into the wagons seat, squishing over slightly as Charla takes seat beside me. I take up the reins and cluck my tongue. The Ponyta raises its head then reluctantly pulls forward.

This isn't too bad… just like driving the Tauros and plow…

I definitely need the money, and this beats farming…

….

After the twenty-fifth delivery I change my mind.

The sway of the wagon is making me nauseated. The constant groan of unoiled wood makes my teeth grit. It's absolutely freezing. And I am tired.

Okay… just four more to go…

"Whoa boy."

The Ponyta halts in front of one of Dewtown's out-skirting houses. This box is thankfully lighter the others. Charla has stopped trying to follow me now and has instead curled up asleep on the passenger's side. I'm not complaining, she tripped me up at about the sixth house. Took me over ten minutes to pick everything up again.

Three boys run into the large warehouse next door. Then four more a few minutes later. And another one.

What's going on here?...

I drop the box at the doorstep and go to investigate. The door to the warehouse is wide open so I just let myself in.

"Bets, place your bets here. 5-4 on Trent Barfield and his Raichu, 110-1 on Kelvin Blake and his Marill. Gotta love a trier eh? Who knows, maybe he'll beat the odds." A short man in a shady hat rushes to print tickets from a box worn about his generous waist.

I push through the crowds. White lines paint a rough arena about twenty-four foot across. The two trainers stand at either end of the rectangle. I recognise one from the trainers centre yesterday, Trent and his Raichu. He's looking very confident. The younger boy with the rather undersized Marill, not so much.

"LAST ROUNDS!" The bookie yells, and when none approached shouted. "TRAINERS! TO MARK! BEGIN!" A bell dings.

The Raichu rears onto its hind legs, I can hear its electric charges crack, shorting through the floor.

"KEEP BACK ZU!" The younger shouts to his Maril. "WATER GUN!"

The Marill draws breath, and then shoots three streams of jetting water at the Raichu.

"HAI, HA!" Is all Trent says to his Pokémon. The Raichu grounds itself with its yellow tail. Its electrical discharge travels through the air as visible lightning. The air cracks with the heat.

The crowd jumps back in alarm, but the Raichu's control is perfect. The Marill didn't have a chance; it lays twitching on the ground, its breathing too rapid.

The kid trainer is handed a rubber blanket to pick up his Pokémon, and advised to keep it in a dark place, hopefully it'll recover.

The bookie hands out the payments. The Raichu was hot favourite, so he pays out bugger all. He then calls to Trent. "Anymore?"

Trent shakes his head.

The shady bookie calls out. "What a performance eh? A Pigeotto, an Ekans and a Marill! Well fellas that's it for today. Think you're man enough to take on the Arena? We'll be gathering next Thursday, same place, same time, till then watch your backs and keep it low eh?"

I see Trent approach the bookie for his share of the money, carefully stowed beneath his sports jacket. He nods then walks toward me.

Uh oh.

"Hey Joshie!" Not too bad eh?"

I grunt non-committally.

"How's your training going. You like the Arena, bloody fantastic; you can earn a year's wages in a day here." Trent says cheerily.

"How much did you make?"

He tutted. "That's for me to know. But you should enter, next week on Thursday."

"I have other plans." I mutter.

"What, work? You're a trainer man! You're going to keep that Charmander hidden forever? Look it's great, it's a ten denard entry fee for Rank one, twenty for rank two, then the winner gets the entire pool."

That sounds like a lot of money. My interest is picking up.

"Anyway might see you there eh Joshie?" Trent tries to ruffle my hair but I jump out of the way.

Deliveries, I had better finish them. I hurry back to the cart without as much as a good-bye

Charla is most unhappy about being left behind. As soon as I sit beside her she bites my hand. I curse and push her off.

Man she can bite hard! And I'm pretty sure that was just an annoyed warning nip. There are about four or five puncture marks in my hand, none too deep, luckily. Oh well just more scars for my ever impressive collection. I should show them to Rebecca. She'll be so impressed.

It's dark by the time I make it back to the general store. I put away the old Ponyta and toss it a flake of hay. I just want to sleep.

The door swings open and Rebecca emerges. I Jump, then scold myself for doing so.

"Heyyyyy." Rebecca says, clearly mocking.

Heat flushes my face, not helped by my state of hunger. I haven't eaten anything today.

Rebecca tosses me a brown paper bag. "It's your meal, and your pay."

It's like she read my mind, she's amazing! I dive for the bag and tear it open, pocketing the two coins, then searching for food.

Two pieces of bread.

"What's this?"

"It's your meal kid, I just told you." Rebecca replies, annoyed.

"These are scraps!"

"Well if you don't want it I'll take it back."

"No I want it." I clutch the bread protectively.

Rebecca smirks. "Don't forget to pack the cart for tomorrow." She calls over her shoulder as she leaves.

I groan, more so when I see the forty boxes I have to carry. Grumbling, I gulp down the first piece of bread then tear the second in half and give a bit to Charla. She snatches it away, crawling under a hollow crate to eat it.

I then get to work on the boxes.

All this for two denards a day. I do some quick math. That was all I was ever good at school was math and eating other people's lunches. I figure by Thursday I will have twelve denards, enough to enter the Arena. That is if I don't starve and have to buy food first. I cringe, And that also leaves six days to train Charla.

My eyes are beginning to hurt. Tired I venture back into my room, Charla following behind. I strip off my shirt and shoes, wincing at the blisters punishing me for my lack of socks.

I rub my eyes and glance at my Pokegear.

12.45am…

Dammit I need to sleep!

12.46am…

12.50am…