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Chapter IXL
Traditional Justice
With a roof over his head, and armed guards everywhere. He was in a safe location. There were beds, some fresh food, and enough books in the library to keep him occupied for years. If he were to get hurt, there was medical personnel to take care of him. If he needed to take care of hygiene and sanitation, that can easily be arranged. Even with all the basic needs taken care of, Ash still felt he was being haunted by ghost. Despite not being alone.
Where everyone can protect him on the outside, he was left defenseless on the inside. The flashbacks from the bandits, the harsh pray drive that they unleashed upon him and his friends still felt fresh. Brock got shot, probably by Randal. But Ash wasn't to sure, he didn't feel like accusing anybody at the moment. Besides, that was the least of his concern.
The main fact of the matter was that he had killed human beings in the most brutal way possible. Killing Undead wasn't that hard, since they just look like people. But these were living people, people who were condemned to a life behind bars because of misdeeds to society. Now that society was gone, they wanted payback. He felt their wrath, felt the brush of death. But the criminals locked up in Faraday Island's prison were stupid. Hopped up from wealth and lust from their new-found freedoms of the apocalypse, there was no reason to reason. If there was a problem, you just shoot at it and it goes away. Right?
Ash wasn't so sure what they think, he never experienced that end of the spectrum before. Brushed against it, but never joined up for it. But the evil he saw was attacking his heart, metaphorically of course.
So when the nightmares were just too much, Ash woke up abruptly in the middle of the night. He gasped, and instantly became full alert. Ash stared out into the darkness of the room and listened to the hum of the ventilation system as it circulates air throughout the Pokémon Center. He soon realized he was covered in cold sweat, his clothes soaked with fear, and his underwear . . . Ash didn't wanna know if he wet himself the other way.
Pikachu was still asleep beside him, unfortunately he wound up getting partially soaked by his trainer's sweat. But it didn't stir the Mouse Pokémon, he slept on peacefully without a care in the world.
Ash pulled off the covers and placed his bare feet on the floor, he gave it a moment before standing up. His friends all slept soundly in their beds, Ash heard the slight snore from the Pokémon as they huddled up with each other or their trainers. He also heard what he thought was Tesla's snores, but he couldn't tell the difference between his snores and Brock's and . . . and . . . Professor Oak's?
He finally mustered the nerve to stand up and discreetly step out of the room. The hallway was dimly lit, with just a couple of ceiling lights glowing. Ash walked down the hall and walked into the attire room, he opened it up and saw a full room of unattractive and neutral-colored clothing of both genders. Normally these were given to human patients after they were stripped of their clothes went through surgery, now they serve as a substitute for pajamas.
Ash shut the door behind him and stripped himself naked, he tossed his sweat-stained pajamas into the wastebasket and approached the Men's dressers. He scanned the label-sizes printed on the dressers, Ash opened up the undershirt dresser of his size and pulled out a gray t-shirt. He slipped on the shirt and opened up the boxer dresser, he pulled out a dark gray pair of clean boxers and slipped those on as well.
It was good enough, Ash shut the dresser doors and took a deep breath. Images of Undead Pikachus and marauding bandits overwhelmed his brain as yet another wave of flashbacks were unleashed upon him. He shook the thoughts out his head before leaving the attire room and back to the living quarters.
Pikachu murmured under his breath, he too was being bombarded by horrible nightmares. Ash placed his hand on his bed to check if it was still moist, it still was. Not wanting to sleep on it, Ash carefully picked up Pikachu and pulled up the covers till it touched the pillow. He then laid down on that and cuddled his Mouse Pokémon, Pikachu managed to calm down and breathed easier. Somehow his instincts was playing with him, telling him to panic when his trainer wasn't around and calm down when he was, these days Ash was more of a Pokémon caretaker than a trainer. He wasn't sure training Pokémon how to use guns and kill things that were already dead count as Pokémon training.
Ash let out a yawn and went back to sleep, might as well ask that question to Tesla when morning comes around.
. . .
I suppose another day won't hurt, Max thought as he ate his morning rations, Just another day, maybe I'll be home tomorrow.
He had been here for . . . how long, 37 days now? All the people and Pokémon weren't doing to good, and the sickness outside wasn't helping. Max glance over their faces, wondering who else was sick. Would they lose their senses, and if so, how would they show it? Ever since the Crawford debacle, he couldn't look at meat the same way again. Meat comes from Pokémon, specially selected Pokémon. But people, why people? How could a human being eat another?
Max shook the thought aside and took a bite out of his rations, it tasted more foul for every day that passed. He missed the hot prepared food his mom makes, and in the restaurants. But eating these MREs, they tasted like . . . what's the word for it?
His friends didn't like them either, but not that local. That Mark Kissinger with the silly Emolga, they seemed to enjoy MREs. Max watched them casually ate out of the MRE vacuumed-sealed bag, chatting among the other people about unusual stuff. Ash sat next to him, his eyes stare into space as he ate out of his rations without pleasure.
He didn't look like he slept well, his eyes – once filled with joy – had bled self-esteem to the point where they became dark and empty of emotion. His Pikachu just sat by his trainer with a similar expression, but it was more heartbreaking. Max missed Pikachu's smile and the twinkle in his eyes, he always lit up from the slightest thought of helping someone. Now generosity had . . . lost its touch, there was no joy left. Just a major depression Max had yet to understand.
Mrs. Ketchum kept glancing over at her son as she ate her rations, she probably noticed he wasn't talking to anyone or petting his Pikachu. Well, all mom's would worry about their sons. Max thought about his mom, how she must be worried sick about this mess. Their home island, Hoenn, wasn't that heavily populated. Or was it? Max forgotten about the news reports that had ceased long ago, maybe the island was alright. The military and local policemen might had it secured, his mom and dad could be alright. They had to be, they had to!
Max caught himself staring blankly at the wall, he discreetly snapped out of it and took another bite out of his rations. Interesting, the MRE was barely half full and it already been 20 minutes. He glanced around the room again. Ash's Unova Pokémon sat silently in a corner, eating their rations. They look so depressed, it made Max's heart ache. They looked more down than usual, was the bandit attack really that bad as everyone said?
Mr. Natas came into the room. He had a look on his face, something was up, "We got a problem," he announced, "It's about Randal, he managed to tell us a few things."
"Yes," said Mark, "He told us that bandits are going to raid us either today or tomorrow, I don't know how many there will be but I do know they will have high-powered assault rifles. They know where we are for quite some time and they're going to make their way here, so we got a fight on our hands."
Everybody stopped eating, they all stared at Mark and Natas as they held their breaths, "Then we gotta defend this place," said Brock, "We gotta board up the windows and arm ourselves."
"That is what I'm thinking, but the bandits are the least of my worries. Their weapons are unsuppressed, if they start shooting they're going to attract every Walker in Carson and in the surrounding countryside. Even if we managed to fend off the bandits, we'll have to fight off the walking dead. Unlike the Living, the Undead won't back down. The hordes can range just a small group or an entire crowd, packed shoulder to shoulder. Me and Ash just barely escaped with our lives when we encounter such a massive horde."
"So we have to fight off bandits and Undead?" Cilan asked.
"Pan?" Pansage asked.
"In two separate waves," said Mr. Natas, "If we're lucky, they may inadvertently drive off the bandits for us. If we're unlucky, they will break through the defenses we put up."
"Can they get through those shutters?" Ash asked.
"Pika Pika?" Pikachu asked as well.
"No doubt they'll hug the shutters, but they won't get through. If we keep things quiet and we just ignore them, the hordes will disperse and wander off."
"They're attracted to sound," said Tesla, "But they can sniff us out if we leave a window open."
"So as long as someone don't pull the fire alarm," said Mark, "We'll be fine."
That earned a few chuckles, Professor Oak sat down his rations and added, "What about the Undead Pokémon, they have better ears and noses than their Undead human counterparts."
"Not to mention they're much faster if they have 4 legs," Mark added, "There could be some Undead Pikachus out there, they're a real pain to put down if you get a group of them."
"That would be more of my problem than yours," said Tesla, "They'll be after their former than people."
Max saw Ash's Pikachu shiver from the quote. Poor thing, that old talking Pikachu scared him.
"Can you handle them?" Mark asked.
"Yeah, I can. I got a few ideas on how to dispatch them, just you wait and see."
Ash put down his rations and asked, "What do we do with Randal?"
Everyone went silent for a minute. Max didn't know what was going on, and was curious to know. But the look on Ash's face told Max something grave, something didn't feel right.
What's going on? Max asked himself.
"We can hold him as hostage," said Brock, "Maybe we can reason with the bandits."
"It's a lot easier if you reason with one bandit," said Tesla, "But an entire group of them? Fat chance. I bet y'all my tail if they don't give a damn about him, Randal's just another object in their eyes. In their world, people are objects. They can kill a hundred or so children with their bare hands and not shed a tear, yet break down when their pet Lillypup died. They don't understand why they were locked up in the first place. Not only do they have no empathy, but they don't have much of anything. The reason why people are worth . . . sh*t to them is that they cannot be controlled. So they value Pokémon as loved ones because they can be controlled and manipulated."
"How do you know this?" Professor Oak asked.
"Nobark. My best friend viewed humans as an arrogant species that must be – uh, excommunicated from the planet. He ain't wrong either, humans pretty much built the economy to run off of Pokémon – for either benevolent, or malevolent purposes. With this in mind, Nobark built up an army of Pokémon who were abused and neglected by poachers and abusive trainers. He manipulated them to-"
Tesla abruptly stopped and glanced over at Max, the kid sat nervously, returning the stare, "Yeah," the old Pikachu sighed, "Let's just say Nobark didn't see another day because of his actions, he was due a long time ago."
"So there's just no reasoning with them." said Cilan, that wasn't a question.
"No dice," said Mark, "You can dream about reasoning with them, but I can tell you the dream will shoot you."
"I say we kill him," said Tesla, "Even though he's not insane like Crawford or Nobark, I just don't see how his comrades will gladly take him back into their ranks. All they care about is themselves, and no one else."
Max raised an eyebrow, What?
"So we just going to shoot him in the head and burn his body," said May, "Can we just, let him go?"
"It's a death sentence out there," said Mark, "Especially for someone with a broken ankle, he's not going to make it in a couple of days."
"We can grill him for knowledge of special caches his friends might have hid." Professor Oak suggested.
"I already did that," said Mark, "All he said were plans, not caches. Even if he did, chances are the caches are buried in the forest and the Undead Pokémon will have no regret in sinking their teeth into my face . . . I'm with Tesla on this, I say we kill him."
"I vote we kill him," said Brock, "We don't have a prison to hold him anyway."
"You can say that again," said Officer Wally in the next room, "I vote to euthanize him, I'll do the deed myself."
"You can burrow my crossbow," said Mark, "Much more quiet and quick."
"I vote we let him go," said May, "We're not going to murder another human being!"
"He almost killed all of us," said Tesla, "He even shot Brock!"
"I vote we let him go," said Cilan, "No way we're killing a man!"
"I'm abstain," said Iris, "I don't wanna play with someone's fate."
"Axew." the Tusk Pokémon spoke.
"Axew's saying to let him go," Tesla translated, "Anybody else."
"I'm abstaining." said Professor Oak.
Mrs. Ketchum shook her head, "I'm abstaining, I'm just don't wanna be part of this."
Mark tallied up the votes, "So we have 3 votes for letting him go, 3 abstaining, and 3 votes to kill him. We still have some votes uncounted for."
Misty looked down for a moment and sighed, "Kill him," she grunted, "There's no chance he's surviving out there anyway."
Max's eyes bulge behind his glasses, he felt a drop of sweat trail down the back of his neck. There's a majority in killing Randal. He couldn't believe that his friends were so divided over this issue, killing a person for a crime he may or may not have even commit. There's just something not right here...
"Ash," said Mark, "You and your Pikachu haven't voted."
Ash sighed and shook his head, "I already euthanized many of his friends, they were all shooting at me – not you guys. I have to abstain, you can do whatever you want with him."
"Pikachu." Pikachu nodded.
"Pikachu's abstaining," Tesla translated, "Okay, now we got 5 abstained."
Uh oh, Max thought, They're going to kill him!
"Do I get a vote?" Max blurted out.
All eyes turned to him, "Sure," said May, placing an arm over his shoulder, "What's your stand?"
"We let him go, he was only desperate. He might not even shot Brock."
"He's right," said Mark, "Ash, you were the one shooting back at them. Which car was Randal in before you started wiping them out?"
"He was in the back car," said Ash, "The guy who shot him was in the car in front of him, I hadn't seen much action from the last car until you stopped the technical and we all got out..."
Suddenly Ash lit up, "I change my stand, we let him go."
Yes! Max silently cheered, though he didn't show it. He had no idea who this guy was, but at least he isn't going to be killed."
"So that's 5 votes in letting him go, 4 votes to euthanize, and 4 abstained," said Mark, "Now what about Ash's other Pokémon, and Pansage? What is their vote?"
Pansage stood up on the couch. His eyes boiled with rage as held out his thumb, and dragged it across his throat, "Pansage!"
"5 votes to euthanize," said Tesla, the old Pikachu turned to Ash's Pokémon, "Okay, we got a tie. What is your guy's vote? Thumbs up to release Randal, thumbs down for traditional justice, or palm for abstaining?"
Ash's Unova Pokémon wasted no time in giving him his answer, Oshawott, Pignite, Scraggy, and Snivy all held up their thumbs and pointed them towards the floor.
You gotta be kidding! Max screamed in his head in sheer shock.
"So," said Mark, "With a total of 18: We have 5 votes for releasing Randal, 4 votes abstained, and 9 votes for serving traditional justice to Randal. Looks like this group has a euthanize majority."
Max remembered overhearing Randal's torture yesterday. He shivered, they're going to kill him. No, this mustn't happen. It mustn't! He stood up from the couch and pointed out for the entire group, "It is not our call to kill him! Everyone in this Pokémon Center must have a say in this. Besides, Randal hadn't told his side of the story. We need to get a better understanding of this, if we are to prepare a defense against the bandits. So we're going to need him alive!"
"A trial," said Tesla, "Yeah, we can do a trial."
"Do we have time?" Professor Oak asked.
"Look," said Mark, "I beat the crap out of Randal to get him to tell us we're about to be raided, anyone says all kinds of stuff when being tortured just to get the pain to stop."
Wally snorted, "Fine, we'll do a trial. We'll get a proper judge, jury, and lawyers. We'll sort this all out."
Everyone started putting down their rations and left the room, Max let out a sigh of relief. But Randal wasn't out of the woods yet, his life was still on the line.
"Max." said May.
Max looked up, "Yes, sis?"
"You did great, brother."
Max sheepishly nodded, "I did, but there's more to come."
. . .
The entire waiting room was cleared out, all the chairs were rearranged and pushed back to make room. One of the Carson police officers was chosen to be the judge, he had a non-biased opinion about law and a degree in political science. The jury was carefully selected. 12 people, who had no idea what was going on and wasn't all that emotional about kids, were selected and they all took a seat. As the other police officers went on alert, most of the survivors in the Pokémon Center gathered in and outside the room for the trial.
Ash felt nervous, sweat formed underneath his armpits as he sat in front of the crowd. From the looks of everything, he didn't know what to think. Society was dead, yet they're giving a bandit a fair trial. He was indeed shooting back at his friends, trying to kill and pillage for their things. But Ash was the one who killed most of his comrades. What does that say about him? He wasn't the Pokémon trainer like before . . . to come to think of it, maybe he wouldn't be able to go back to Pokémon training if the apocalypse blows over.
If it blows over. Ash thought.
His Pikachu sat beside him, scared out of his mind. Though there was no danger, Pikachu kept his ears up to listen for any potential threats. He gripped Ash's arm for dear comfort, it wasn't doing much. Ash tried putting his arm around Pikachu's shoulders, the Mouse Pokémon calmed down a little, but the tension was still there. It made Ash's heart ache to see his Pikachu – or any of his Pokémon for that matter – engulfed in terror. He did his best to protect him, but their wasn't much Ash could do for Pikachu.
He scratched the top of Pikachu's head, he relaxed as Ash shifted his hand across his Pokémon's scalp.
"P!" Pikachu yelped, jerking his head forward in an involuntary reaction.
Oh, it was that tender spot. Ash had forgotten about that. Pikachu let out a soft whine and rested his head against Ash's side, "There there, Pikachu." Ash softly says.
Ash's friends approached and sat by him, they all didn't say a word. Did they still trust him? Yes, they do. But there was a problem. He had broken down, finally broken down and his mother comforted him for it. That happened behind closed doors, but there was no denying it. Ash had that look on his face, he showed it. Their suspicions were further proven when they found him sleeping on top of his covers, somehow Cilan figured out he had went through a cold sweat that night. Maybe Ash showed all the signs, maybe he found the unusually soaked clothes in the attire room. Or maybe he stuck his hand under the covers and felt it was soaked.
It doesn't matter how he figured it out, anyone could have figured it out. So far Tesla hadn't confronted him about the incident, in fact he barely spoke of it even though he turned a full-grown man to dust within a flash of light. Ash had shot Randal in the foot, had he shot him in the head the survivors wouldn't be having this trial. Smart of Max to bring up the lack of order they had, it stopped the death penalty in its tracks.
Or maybe postpone it, Ash thought, Clearly Randal wasn't walking out of here, not on that ankle. Yet the deal was to get rid of him if he was innocent, which one was really the death penalty?
"You ready for this, Ash?" Misty whispered into his ear.
"No." Ash honestly said.
"Me too." Cilan whispered.
Ash shifted in his seat and sat back, You can say that again. He thought.
Wally escorted Randal to the front of the room, he had a black bag on his head to prevent him from seeing anything. The room went silent within seconds as Wally slightly dragged Randal into a chair, once the bandit was seated Wally got out a roll of duct tape and taped him in place. A few wraps around the lap and bottom of the chair was good enough, but just to be sure, Wally wrapped Randal's torso to the back rest of the chair. He stepped back and handed the duct tape to the judge, who placed it on a chair behind him.
Natas came forward and pulled the black bag off of Randal's head. Ash's eyes shot wide, Randal had a blood stain trailing from his nose down to his chin. He also had a black eye, but it wasn't that bad. The rest of his face and arms were bruised, he looked more of a victim than a bandit. That may aid in Randal's favor. Fact was, he wasn't an a-
"This court is called to order," said the judge, "We have here Randal Ostermann, age 28, former prisoner of the Faraday Incarceration Center. Sentenced to 3 years for shoplifting of a grocery store. He is accused of the attempted murder of 6 children, ages 10 to 18. If he is found guilty, he will be taken out and shot. If he is found innocent, he'll be freed, but will not come near the town of Carson or this Pokémon Center in the near future due to his previous sentence."
That got people whispering among each other, somehow Ash felt that Randal was going to win and might get a chance to stay in the Carson Pokémon Center. To come to think of it, Randal didn't even aimed his gun at him and his friends in the first place.
Wally leaned forward and glared into Randal in the eyes, "Can you tell us what you were doing before the said raid?"
Randal looked up at Wally with his good eye and took a breath, "Surviving."
"Surviving what?"
"The dead that walk."
"With whom?"
Randal shook his head, "The worst kind of people."
"Tell us about what group were you with, and what were they doing."
Wally stepped back to give Randal room, all eyes were now on him, "Before the outbreak, the prison was home to the worst kinds of prisoners. People who were convicted of murder, rape, that sort of thing. Them folks are the worse kinds, they repeat offenders. I was landed in the slammer for shoplifting and 2nd degree murder . . . I bumped into a man while running out of a grocery store, he hit his head on a fire hydrant and snapped his neck.
"I was there for only a week, they all had them look in their eyes. A very few of them, I overheard from their conversation, how they said it was absurd for them to be locked up because they killed their girlfriend for being defiant.
Tesla's right. Ash thought, remembering what the old Pikachu said about the prison.
"When the plague happened," Randal continued, "Things went to sh*t fast. The guards activated the dreaded protocol, they first killed the prisoners with the life sentences then the ones with murder convictions, rape charges, bank robberies. I sat in my cell, scared out of my mind. Me and my cellmate barricaded the door with our bunk beds, then fetched out our custom-made weapons called shanks.
"We sat there for a good long while, with no clue on what was happening. I thought about my parents, and my sister. She's only 12. I thought I would never see them again when a huge splatter of blood smeared on the door. Suddenly the door opened up, and a Walker was right there before it. He was one of the prisoners, I later learn he was shot. Somehow he came back, but he was just a shell of a man once before. Without thinking, I shoved the end of my shank into his skull. I had to stab him a few times to get him to drop again.
"You know who opened the doors?" Wally asked.
"Someone got into the control room and unlocked every cell in the prison. When I stepped out, I saw the guards going from cell to cell, shooting the prisoners. And the prisoners they shot, they got back up with red evil eyes. I was in a prison gang, we banded together and took out some of the Walkers. Some of the guards ran out of ammunition and were either killed by the prisoners or eaten by the prisoners they had killed. We learned right away that the death of people makes the Undead.
"The guards completely lost control of the prison, and the prisoners wiped out the rest of the Undead. Once we insert our will onto the Faraday Incarceration Center, we lost half the prison population. But nobody cared, since there was more food for everybody. Eventually the power grid went down, and those cities who don't produce their own power . . . Well, you know."
"Did your group attack Ash and his friends as they were passing down the road?" Wally asked.
"Yes," Randal admitted, then he got all wired up, "But it wasn't my idea, that was the gang leader's plan!"
"So how did your gang leader worked it out?"
"Well . . . The plan was very basic. Act like you're hurt to draw any passerby into the zone, then ambush them. Steal their stuff, kill them afterwords. We have no plan on taking anyone captive, there's no point to it anymore since we have all we needed at the Incarceration Center. We got a few people who traveled down the main road without effort, then the technical rolled by and-"
"Stop right there for a sec," said Wally, "So this time, Ash and his friends were coming along the road in a technical right?"
"Yes, they were."
"What happened when they did?"
"The driver slowed down, falling for the trick. But Ash . . . um, his name, right? Well, he figured it out. They took off in a second, and the chase began there."
Wally nodded, "How many cars did the bandits had?"
"Four." Randal answered.
"Which car were you in?"
"The one behind the rest of the convoy as we chased the technical."
"The bandits fired the first shots, Randal?"
"Yes, but we couldn't get a bead on them. We were terrible sharpshooters. But Ash, he got on the technical's machine gun and took out three of the vehicles. Just right outside of Carson, we stopped there since the technical's motor was shot. I got out of the car, and before I could get into a defensive position I was shot in the leg and another bandit with us was killed. The driver of the car made a run for safety, but somehow Tesla turned him into dust in a flash of lightning . . . I was then captured, and brought here with duct tape over my eyes."
"You were tortured?" Wally asked.
"Yes, I bore the scars from it, you see."
"By who?"
"The driver of the technical."
Ash looked around for Mark, he saw him sitting near the wall. He kept his cool as he petted his Emolga, who rested on his lap. His Pikachu and Cheering Pokémon duo sat in the chair next to them, huddling each other for comfort. They too were scared. Ash was amazed that Mark kept his cool, he clearly had a harsh temper the way he tortured Randal, but somehow he kept his cool. Strange, he seemed confident, like he knew something was going to happen. But what was it?
Wally stepped up and nodded, "I think we heard enough."
He grabbed the edge of Randal's chair and dragged it aside, then pulled up an empty chair. Wally sat aside and watched as a new lawyer came up, this lawyer was another police officer. He had blond hair and a mustache, if only he had a pair of mirrored-sunglasses on, that would complete his image, "Ash Ketchum," he said, "Please take the stand."
Ash stood up without a word and approached the chair, he sat down and looked out into the audience. He saw his mom and Professor Oak sitting among the folks, his friends stared at him, completely worried about his well-being. His Pikachu sat there, he had tears forming in his eyes.
"Now," Randal's lawyer began, "What were you doing out there to begin with?"
"Personal reasons." Ash answered.
"What kind of reasons?"
"We were looking for a couple of old friends, we found one of them, unfortunately."
"You were bringing his body back." That was no question.
"Yes," said Ash, "I was."
"Along the way back, you encountered a roadblock. What was it, really?"
"It looked like a car accident, but it wasn't."
"How do you know for sure?"
"No tire marks on the ground, the bodies weren't mangled or bloody, and they all hand their hands like they were covering something. It was too obvious, it was a fake. I told Mark to take off once he slowed down, then they all got back to the vehicles and followed us."
"Randal said you got on the machine gun," said the lawyer, "Correct?"
"Yes, he did."
"What kind of machine gun was it?"
"An M60, Mark found it in the Carson Police Department's gun vault. He found the turret stand for it in the garage, he claims he's burrowing it."
"You know how to use it?"
Ash shook his head, "No, I just went with my gut feeling. No time to think and learn, my friends' lives were on the line."
"Okay then," said the lawyer, "What happened when you got on the machine gun?"
"I fired back at them, they riddled the technical with bullet holes and shot Brock in the arm. I fired away on the M60, I wasn't properly aiming it. I riddled the windshields with so many holes..."
Ash paused for a moment and looked away, "Uh, excuse me, sir. I'm still shocked from it all."
"Give us the short version then." the lawyer bluntly say.
Ash gave it a moment before continuing, "I took out three cars, Randal was in the 4th. So when it stopped he got out and positioned himself on the side of the car, away from us. Mark opened fire with his pistol, he killed one guy still strapped in his seat. Another guy ran off, but Tesla got him with a Thunderbolt. I shot Randal in the leg, he went down instantly."
"Who's idea was it to bring him back here?"
"It was mine."
"Why?"
"I can't just leave another human being there."
"A human being who was trying to kill your friends, but instead you killed his."
Ash felt a shiver trail down his spine, the lawyer had him by the noose. But it was a loose one, there was enough wiggle room to break free, "Excuse me, he didn't say the other bandits were his friends. He stated clearly that they were the worse kind of people who were locked up in the prison. And they were firing away at me and my friends, Brock was shot, it doesn't matter if Randal was the shooter or not. He was-"
"Lower your voice, Ash." the judge warned.
Thanks for the warning. Ash thought, he didn't realize the tone of his voice until he heard that question, luckily he caught it in time.
"He was what?" the lawyer asked.
Ash licked his lips and tried to remember what he was going to say, "He was responsible, sir. He did stuck his gun out the window and fired back at us, I believe it was his bullet that stalled Mark's technical. But that wasn't why Mark tortured him like he did, his Pokémon were in the front seat and the bullets were flying over their heads. I saw the look on their faces, they were terrified without a doubt. My Pokémon were terrified, they couldn't control their emotions ever since they saw some friends got eaten in front of them."
The lawyer nodded in agreement, "You're a Pokémon trainer, correct?"
"Yes."
There was silence for a moment, Ash felt his heart race as he gripped the bottom of his chair. The lawyer processed that thought for a moment and nodded, "Okay, then. We'll come back to that thought later. You may go sit back down."
"Thank you, sir." said Ash, his voice lacking emotion.
When Ash sat back with his friends, Pikachu snuggled beside him. One by one, Ash's friends were called up to the stand. They all shared their version of the incident, they all spoke of the same thing but all said they had their heads down. Which was true, since bullets were flying overhead and were destroying anything they hit. Randal's gun was brought forward, it was an AR-15. Unlike the group's weapons, his was dirty and slightly rusted. It looked like it could jam at anytime.
"Is that all the testimonies?" the judge asked.
Tesla walked up and stood on his hind legs, "May I have the stand, your honor?"
The judge eyed him suspiciously, "Sure . . . go ahead."
The old Pikachu walked up to the chair and sat down, then Randal's lawyer approached, "What were you doing with Ash and his group?" he asked.
"I was helping them," said Tesla, "I've helped them ever since I got here."
"On the many long-term trips out of the Carson Pokémon Center, you was the one who talked them into doing something. What was that trip to Faraday City for anyway?"
"I wanted to make sure my trainer didn't come back, he'd been dead for twenty years. I needed some help, I knew I couldn't do it alone."
"Did you get it done?"
"Yes . . . I saw him come out of his grave, he was more of a monster than a human being. I took his head off with a single blast of a shotgun, and a 70 year old bond was torn down in an instant."
"What shotgun was it?"
"A 12 gauge Mossberg 500. Ironically, it was given to me by Irvin on my 40th birthday. When he died, and I ran off into my own affairs, Emmett Kissinger – who was a rookie in the FCPD at the time – gotten a hold of the shotgun. He kept it with him ever since."
"Surely it was an emotional experience for you."
Tesla frowned, he waited a few seconds before responding, "It wasn't. I already shed my tears, felt my grief, and put it behind me a long time ago. I just wanna make sure that no deity takes a hold of his corpse for its own purposes. Mark videotaped the whole thing, we can pull it up on an HDTV if y'all want to see it."
The lawyer looked at the judge, "You want to, judge?"
"Another time maybe." the judge answered.
The lawyer turned his attention backed to Tesla, "Okay, what were you doing before the raid."
"Looking for Ash's friends," said Tesla, "With him and his group, we only found one of them. He had turned, probably festered in the forest for about a month with his legs stripped to the bone of meat."
Professor Oak gulped and cringed in his seat, but kept his cool.
"Once we put him down, we had a horde of Undead Mouse Pokémon come out of the woods and attacked us. Pichus, Pikachus, Raichus, every member of the Mouse Pokémon family whose zombified came out and attacked. Their appearance was just as bad, flesh stripped of bone, disemboweled, and bloodthirsty. Boy, they let out a frenzy when they saw me and Ash and Mark's Pikachus. We held them off without difficulty, those some got a little too close for comfort."
"Fast forward to the bandit attack, what did you do?"
"I kept my head down throughout the entire chase, I can still smell the gunpowder from laying flat on the trunk floor. I was used to such stress, used to being shot at. I couldn't do much since I don't have any ammo for my own gun, and I was too stunned for a Thunderbolt. It was until the end of the chase where we stopped for a final showdown, I laid my sights on a bandit trying to run away. After a month of survival, it was all over for him once he turned into a pile of burned jerky."
"So you hit him with your best Thunderbolt."
"Is that even a question?"
"No, it's not."
The audience murmured among each other, sharing their thoughts in whispers and low voices. They were too faint for Ash to pick them out, but he had no doubt what they were thinking. Tesla was a dangerous Pokémon to begin with, he had killed countless people in his lifetime.
"I think we heard enough." said the lawyer.
"May I please point out one thing first?" Tesla asked.
Before the lawyer could respond, the judge beat him to it, "Yes, you can."
"Thank you, your honor."
The old Pikachu turned and faced the jury, "The judge mentioned that Randal Ostermann had attempted murder on 6 juveniles, but he did not mention about the attempted murder of their Pokémon as well. You all know what I'd done in the past two decades since you last saw my last Pokémon battle on TV or in the Faraday City Gym, I had killed countless amateur trainers and police officers who tried to catch me. And for those I didn't kill, they're scarred for life. I was a wanted Pokémon, an outlaw. Do you know what would happen if I were to be caught and arrested?
"Judge, I object." Randal's lawyer interrupted.
"Overturned," the judge said, "Go on, Tesla."
"I won't get a trial, I won't even get a lawyer. I'm not going to be locked in a cage, which was how I was introduced into Pokémon battling before Irvin found me. I'm too smart for them, I could escape from any cage and I can wipe out a small group of fully-grown men. I was too dangerous for them to keep down. I was a candidate for the death penalty.
"They won't put me in an electric chair or give me lethal injection, they're just going to shoot me like a crazed dog Pokémon. Just like that, without a second thought. You see, Pokémon don't have the same rights as humans. We're 2nd class citizens to the eyes of the law. We have no voice, cause we can't speak human words. This society we once all lived in a month ago was literally built with Pokémon as a special cog for its engine.
"Pokémon . . . these creatures we train and have them fight against each other with simple commands. Either for our amusement or improving our status. It cost us our freedom. Yes, we're fed, bathed, even loved. But there are humans out there who do the opposite. They're just different piles, it's all the same. If a Pokémon is in the property of a human being via these Poké balls, or by some moral contract, then we have no freedom. We may get a long leash, but that leash still has a limit.
"With the death of my trainer, I have once again regained my freedom. I didn't run away because I was grief stricken. No, I overheard a conversation that I was going to get a new trainer. I'm just too well-trained and know so much that I don't even need a Pokémon trainer, so I broke all my remaining friends free from their Poké balls and gave them a choice. To either leave and find a new life, for be transferred to a new trainer. I left them with that thought in their head, and took shelter in the nearby forest for 20 years.
"Some simply got themselves a new trainer, but some couldn't handle it. There were suicides because Irvin was more of a caretaker than a trainer, it just wouldn't feel the same. A few Pokémon, including me, escaped to retain our freedom. I haven't heard from most of them since, and then I heard about Nobark's . . . uh..."
"But now all that is gone, the dead had risen and tore up our society. Pokémon battling is dead, and everything associated with it is also dead. Now Pokémon and humans are on the same page, everything they know is now contradicted or useless because of the Undead."
"But you have the advantage." noted the lawyer."
"My advantage is that I was trained to kill, not to incapacitate. I was desensitized, robbed of my morality when I was taken away from my parents and siblings from Team Rocket. I had no sympathy or empathy for those who . . . take part in the lucrative business. So, if Randal is to be convicted for crimes against humanity, can we all hear the crimes these people did against Pokémon?
"We have Pokémon here that are no longer in your ownership. They're your family members, complete with all the privileges and rights of a human being. Know this, and know this well. If the Undead apocalypse were to extend for an infinite period of time, they aren't going to be with you or you're not going to be with them forever. I know this by experience, the end is much closer than you think. Make the best of your Pokémon's days, cause there won't be any left."
He let the thought sink in for a moment before stepping down from the stand, Ash watched Tesla leave the room, walking out on his two hind legs with defiance and dignity.
One of the jury members stood up from his chair and faced the judge, "We've heard enough, is there a room we can vote in?"
"Next door is fine." the judge said.
"Very well."
Ash watched the jury stood up and walked out of the room, he looked down at his Pikachu who looked up at him with watery eyes, "Pikachu." he muttered.
"Don't cry, Pikachu," said Ash, he stroke the side of his Pikachu's head and rubbed his ears, "You'll upset everybody if you do."
"Pika." Pikachu whimpered.
"May Ho-Oh have mercy on your soul." Mark whispered into Ash's ear.
He turned around and saw Mark sat behind him, his Pokémon sat in his lap shaking nervously. They weren't crying, but they were scared, "You have anything to say, Ash?" Mark asked.
"Have we lost our humanity?"
Mark raised an eyebrow, "Good question, do you still care for others?"
"Yes." Ash replied.
"Then no, you haven't."
"I said our humanity, not my humanity."
"I asked myself that same question, but I also asked myself: What is humanity? Is it behavior or a code of moral ideals? Whatever the answer may be, I think you still have yours. But as for me, I'm not sure. I shot Henry in the head, I didn't shed a tear over it. I tried talking this over with Carley but I couldn't get through to her, she was too far gone in her affairs that . . . I don't even know her anymore."
"What about our Pokémon?" Ash asked.
"Our Pokémon aren't human beings, Ash. Tesla made a good point about it, look how we treat them. We feed them pellets we call Pokémon food, we make them eat on the ground or floor in these bowls. We keep them in Poké balls, like they're baggage. I think Tesla tricked all of us by keeping our Pokémon out of their Poké balls by playing with our hearts, using common sense to back his plan up."
Ash thought about it for a second, "You may be on to something here."
"I am," said Mark, "He knows what he's doing, he got your Pokémon to use guns. I, however, had already been teaching them firearms for quite some time. Even teaching them how to kill Undead, that isn't enough. They're scared Ash, they're scared because they fear they're going to lose us."
"Maybe because we're all they know," said Ash, "Had we set them up for failure?"
Mark sighed, "You know, Ash, I have to be honest with you about answering that question."
Ash nodded and held his head down, "I understand."
"You shouldn't feel guilty about yourself, Ash. You accomplished a lot in your life from your Pokémon training days, I bet the people you met around the world are thinking of you right this minute as they huddle in safehouses, with their friends and families in their arms."
Ash let out a smile and relaxed in his chair, "I suppose my journey really means something after all."
"Ash," said Mark, he reached out and placed a hand on the Pokémon trainer's shoulder, "Your journey hadn't really ended, it only just begun."
"Those are bold words for these dark times."
"Pika Pika." Ash's Pikachu agreed.
"Live life to its fullest, because whatever's keeping the dead in this world . . . I don't think I wanna find out what's going on in the next dimension."
Ash chuckled, "So much for suicide."
Mark laughed and shoved Ash forward, "There we go, that's the spirit!"
The room went silent again, the jury returned from the other room and took their seats in their usual spot. The lead jury remained standing, he faced the judge with confidence and nodded, "We've reached a verdict. But before we tell this verdict, we would like to have a small note to make with everyone."
"As you please." said the judge.
The lead jury then turned to face the audience in the room, "We've realized that either if this man is executed or released, there would be death either way. This man had sustained a broken ankle during his plight, he won't get pretty far with the Undead roaming outside. In fact, we don't believe he'll make it at all. If we keep him here, there would be a risk that he'll betray the group, even if he provide no role in the attempted murder of Ash Ketchum and his small band of friends.
"There is no doubt we have mistrust amongst us, ever since Crawford's crime against nature act. But what we cannot deny is that we become a monster at the end of our lives now, either if we make it to ripe old age and die peacefully, regardless who we were. This thought has plagued our senior resident, Tesla Westinghouse, we all know this Pikachu has daily suicide thoughts. But what's keeping him going is Ash and his friends, who cared for him despite his background of justified killings.
"So Randal Ostermann, being the sole survivor of a group of bandits, must be held fully responsible for the actions took place. We found him guilty on attempted murder of 6 juveniles, and 9 Pokémon."
Upon hearing the verdict, Randal sniffled and lowered his head, "Do what you have to do, my family is dead. The sooner you get this done, the faster I get to be with whatever is left of their souls. They'll understand, in the end we're all just trying to survive."
Ash cuddled Pikachu in his arms and hugged him tight, the Mouse Pokémon hugged him back for dear comfort.
So this is it for him, Ash thought, What have I done?
This was how the world worked now, no place was safe. People had to die so other people can live. But why? Why can't anyone work together when they have a common enemy? It bothered Ash deep in his heart, that people he would meet might not survive the next day. They were dying all around him, there was so much death . . . Ash couldn't wrap his mind around it all, he was too young to handle this...
"Ash," Misty whispered in his ear, "It's over."
Ash shook his head, "It's never over."
Wally approached Randal and undid his bonds, "We'll use the suppressor on you, then."
Randal let out a snort, "Is that your way of saying I have the right to remain silent?"
That brought a few chuckles in the audience, but it was dry humor. Once Randal was freed from the chair, the judge tossed Wally back the roll of duct tape and tore out a strip. He pulled Randal's hands behind his back and bond them tight, "Let's go." said Wally as he shoved him forward.
Just before Randal would take a few steps, something stirred outside. Ash's ears perked when he heard several tires squeal against the pavement, it sounded like a bunch of cars were speeding down the road. Everyone quickly took notice and asked themselves what it was, "I wonder what's that all about." Mark commented.
BOOM!
The floor shook as the blast rose from below and shutter the other floors of the Pokémon Center. The lights flickered violently from the heavy shaking as dust seeped out of the ceiling, Pikachu panicked in Ash's arms as he sat there stunned – but strangely – not scared. His friends scattered out of their seats and drop to the floor, protecting their heads with their hands. Everyone else screamed at the top of their lungs as more people hit the deck, the judge dropped for cover as Randal simply fell over. Wally maintained his balance as he drew his pistol, his eyes were wide alert as his cop instincts kicked in.
Ash just sat there until the shaking ceased, he then sat down Pikachu and calmly stood up. He shook the blank stare out of his eyes and glanced over at Mark, who had a hand gripping his seat with an arm wrapped around his Pokémon, "Time to move, Mark." Ash urgently says.
Mark released his grip from the chair and Pokémon, "Got it."
He turned towards the rest of the survivors in the room as they frantically got to their feet, gunshots began ringing outside as people scream and yell from down below, "Y'all get a gun," Mark ordered, "I think we're under attack!"
TO BE CONTINUED...
