FH: WINTER
"Fort Haste: WINTER" is a recount of a tale set within the Pokémon world - one in which everything has gone wrong. Here we meet the final survivors as they struggle to endure through hell and beyond. An unknown virus has wiped-out most of humanity, leaving behind children which seem to be less affected by the disease. In an attempt to preserve what remains of humanity, Fort Haste was bodged in the months following the pandemic. Even now, the settlement remains at the very heart of the ongoing apocalypse. For everything that has happened and all the trials humanity has faced - Fort Haste stands as a vision of hope.
Please note, this and following chapters will contain both narrative and speech in various dialects and languages. Anything said in Pokémon will be underlined as shown. Normal speech will remain unaffected, although italics and bold may be used for effect following standard rules. For whistle calls *…something like this…* will be used, and any random flashbacks etc. are marked with {''}. Hauser's thought speach is written as this and Kim's as this. I'd love to use different fonts and anything, but're we're pushing the limit's of this websites formatting as it is
Fort Haste is a work of fiction written as a collaboration between ZenColour and Just-A-Reader0Love
AUTHOR NOTES
Zen: This chapter is the start of the end of this story. We're expecting the rest of the story to fit into another two chapters following this one. Update times are a bit unpredictable, but we're hoping to tie everything up to finish next spring. Fort Haste: Winter has now surpassed five thousand views, so thanks everyone for sticking with it! Enjoy!
R'Love: This chapter was amazing to write, but sorry for the delays. Other projects took priority at the moment, but we never forgot about Fort Haste : Winter. It is almost time for this story to come to a close, all that is left is the finale. I hope you enjoy this!
HAYS SNH Version 1 (0058 PA)
Forward written by H. Bennett [EXTRACT]
9000406225917 - Sinnoh Outreach Programme for Historical Preservation
Issues still surround the exact timing of the V-DPP virus and it's associated anomalous events that upon reflection seemed contradictory. Records recovered from Fort Haste provide the only written recount following the epidemic proving that world population was more than halved at that time. However, further evidence for the huge human population expected pre-V-DPP is cryptic at best.
CHAPTER 10
An Extract from Hay's Journals V.I
It's the time we've wasted on this world that makes it important.
FENN'S POV
A lot can happen in one month. Fort Haste aged, falling into a steady routine of waking, eating, and sleeping. Given the upset over three weeks previously, we'd all fallen into a lull of menial survival - desensitised to the dangers we faced daily.
'It's another cold start.' Orion mumbled to himself, adjusting a black neckwarmer above the collar of his green waterproof. It wasn't exactly cold in the meeting-room, but the Umbreon-morph had made a habit of wearing the garment. He almost refused to take it off for anything, including my pleas that it needed washing.
The morph looked pale in the winter sunlight. However, there was a brightness to his eyes that made them verge on being pink. Pupils traced squiggles across the Lee slopes. The scar across Orion's left cheek had healed messily, leaving an inflamed red mark stretching across his jawline. It added a visual reminder of the hard edge to the man. He had settled into an unsteady, rewritten role as leader of the Hasties. The inner demons that tormented him had been turned into a brutal work ethic, taking on as many jobs as he could. Anything to exhaust himself to the point that nightmares no longer came.
Dark dreams had been terrorising the both of us with unnerving frequency since Derick, or Arceus…or whatever the hell it was that showed up almost a month ago. The timing of the event wasn't lost of either of us. Tomorrow would be a full lunar cycle since Derick's mysterious warning. It was only from monitoring Orion's sleep schedule that such a length of time meant anything at all. His behaviour seemed to be directly related to the moon's phases.
'Things seem more settled now.' the morph commented, clearly trying to make some form of conversation.
Orion slumped in an old office chair, feet up on the windowsill as he stared out at the horizon. The man's slender black ears flicked as if in thought. It was all I could not to sigh, eyeing the pile of spreadsheets adorning the oak table in front of me. Something always interrupted my attempt to complete the day's admin work...not that I was complaining. It was a perpetual job I hated with a passion.
'Settled?' I questioned, swilling lukewarm tea in a mug before downing it, 'Who? The Wildlings?'
'Eh, just camp in general.'
'Hmmmm…' I grunted in agreement. Rolling a pencil between my fingers, I took a few moments to study the back of the morph. Orion didn't exactly look relaxed. He was tapping his beat-up leather boots, tail waving uncertainty from where it draped over the edge of the chair.
When you thought about it, Orion wasn't exactly wrong. Fort Haste had evolved, settling into a rhythm of new daily activities which were steadily being implemented. Foremost was the increased emphasis on defence, sentry duties, and archery practice. Feral attacks were increasing. Where before we might have a scare every few weeks, they were now attacking every other night. Though, most were deterred by a combination of longbows and a hedgehog of spikes protruding from the frigid ground. One or two had made it the palisade before bleeding-out. Feral attacks, combined with the scare we'd had with Derrick and the Kecleons, had hardened camp into something where survival had become a matter of necessity.
Fort Haste was stronger and meaner than before.
The previous chain of command had become so ingrained into the workings of camp that concrete meetings were no longer necessary. Everybody knew what they were doing, more or less. With the focus now turned to food, warmth, and protection - the newly made 'war council' was more than adequate. Our main priority had been making camp ready for winter. Many of the buildings had been insulated with another layer of foam board before being faced with corrugated tin. Those that hadn't were instead coated with a mesh of scaffolding, turning the whole of Fort Haste into a multi-storey maze of archer's nests and turrets. All of this had been thrown together in the space of a fortnight. Fort Haste by name, Fort Haste by nature.
Orion looked pensive. I could tell something was bugging him.
'You think anything is going to happen?' I asked as gently as I could, hoping we were thinking the same thing. 'You know, about the Gods? Sometimes I doubt it even happened.'
'Hmm…' Orion rubbed at his nose, still gazing out of the window. 'They won't let it slide. We're toeing the line. Something's going to happen.'
'What? Like a huge volcano is going to tear us apart and rocks falling out of the sky? Thunder clouds and-'
'They don't work like that.' Orion cut through my ramblings. When the concept of Legendary Pokemon was a fable just a few weeks ago, I only had fairytales to work with. Children's stories often painted the god-like Pokemon as fictitious characters of retribution. Apparently that wasn't the case.
'Balance.' Orion stated blandly, 'They wouldn't…They can't just do something like that. It would defeat their whole purpose. More likely they'll bend the weather and flood us. They're supposed to maintain the natural order.'
I sniffed, 'If It's natural then why do they need to manage it?'
There was a slight pause. I didn't know if the man ignored me, or just didn't hear.
'I know them.' The Umbreon morph stated. To anybody else it would have sounded off-handed and a little self-important. However, very few people knew the strange Umbreon-morph as well as I did. Underneath the blase tone there was a hint of steel to Orion's voice. Yes, he did know them. If his twisted version of the truth was to be believed, Orion had gone as far to defeat the very Gods we feared. I had to remind myself of the convoluted facts, even if I failed to accept that Orion had reset the world anew. It would be impossible.
'You still think this is all your fault, right?' I probed calmly, tidying the sheets of paper before me out of habit.
'It is. I messed with the order. This is their twisted revenge.'
'So why not just kill you now, strike you down with a lightning bolt?' I replied tersely. 'That's natural...right?'
'Humph.' Orion had descended into a rather sombre tone once again. Moments of contemplation like this could leave the man sat in his chair considering his past for hours. His shoulders sagged as he internally queried the consequences of his confusing past round and round in circles.
The morph puffed out a sigh.
'They aim to keep an equilibrium. If they think destroying Fort Haste will maintain that balance, they'll bend the rules to make it happen. But they will never break them. I...I just don't think they will. They…' Orion trailed off, itching the scar on his cheek. His ears twitched. 'They wouldn't.'
'You don't seem so sure…' I hummed. The morph fidgeted in his chair. He turned to face me, leaning over the backrest in a manner that should have looked relaxed, if not for the tension in his shoulders.
'If you could go back and start camp again...what would you do differently?'
'Uhhh…' I was taken aback by Orion's sudden change of tone. The question came completely out of the blue. He rubbed at his chin, eyes switching between me and the pile of work on the table. I drummed on the wooden surface with the tips of my fingers out of habit.
'I don't know…' Orion lifted an eyebrow at the comment and I tried to defend my uncertainty, 'Why? We're talked about this before. Hindsight is great but I don't think there is much we could have done…'
I trailed off, realisation starting to flicked across my face. Orion had the audacity to look a little sheepish, pretending his attention had once more been caught by the scenery outside the window.
'Orion! I hope you're not talking about that again!'
'I...it's...uh…' Orion stuttered, eyes downcast from my rough scolding. 'Just thinking.'
'We've talked about this.' I practically groaned. Ever since admitting to me (and by extension most of camp) that Orion had once entered the Hall of Origin, he seemed unable to let the idea go. Most days his mind seemed to wander back to the subject as if to rethink it over and over again. Each time a new iteration of what he could have done differently. It was a symptom of the stress regarding what was to come. One lunar month to vacant camp and doom ourselves to die. Like that would happen. Out of all of us, the Umbreon morph seemed most on edge.
'I...I know.' Orion replied in a small voice
There was a long moment of silence. I heard the man breath out a small sigh, floorboards creaking underneath us as he shifted in his chair. Sucking on my teeth, I struggle with the dilemma of simply ignoring the man. Orion had that far-away look which suggested that either he was thinking hard about something, or spaced-out after too much caffeine. From experience I knew that the morph rarely wanted to talk openly about such things. It was on a hunch that I recognized his musings as a gateway into a conversation regarding something deeper.
'What's bothering you?'
There was a long pause. For a moment I thought I'd completely misjudged the situation. Even now, Orion was a difficult person to understand. His tail twitched as he once more lifted his feet to rest on the windowsill.
'I am.' He responded blandly, mumbling more than talking. 'I...don't know why...but…'
'Try talking about it.' I suggested calmly. Ever since Orion had broken down weeping in my bed all those weeks ago, the brick wall he'd built around his heart had slowly crumbled. All at once he'd opened his heart to me and I'd only now become accustomed to the shift in our relationship.
'What if none of this had to happen? What if...somehow we entered the Hall again and stopped any of this happening. We could pass through and make it so nobody could harm us. We...we could make it so the virus never happened again.' Orion's speech came in bursts as he bumbled out each though one after another. 'Maybe...'
He hummed to himself, as if rolling the words around his mouth in thought.
'There's a lot of we going on here.' I pointed out tiredly, not wanting to tackle the real topic of conversation. In truth, thinking such things scared me a little. It wasn't that I ever forgot about Orion's past, it just made me uncomfortable to think about what he might have done...what he could do.
'Well…' Orion sighed dramatically, tugging at his neckwarmer. 'It's...complicated.'
'This is about you, me, and the collar right?'
The morph grunted, but didn't say anything. His long, black ears had dropped against his head, clearly displaying he was uncomfortable about something. Whether that was the topic of our chat, or what it implied, I wasn't completely sure. It had become increasingly clear that the Umbreon had bonded to me in some way. Much like a Pokemon and their trainer, Orion never seemed to stray too far from my side. Hauser had explained the nature of the man's behaviour to me enough times that it was hard to refute. The collar, however, represented the pinnacle of everything that troubled me about the morph. It was a mirrored depiction of his past...the shackle which had driven him to apparently rewrite history itself.
'What's so special about the collar? Why...how did you keep it? I thought you...Umm you know? Changed the whole fookin' past and all that?'
'I was wearing it.'
'Oh…' I rubbed at my tired eyes, still tapping at the table. Upon realising what I was doing, It was a struggle not to turn the frustrated drumming into something resembling a tune. The sharp twitching of Orion's ringed-ears told me the action hadn't gone completely unnoticed.
'So that's where you get your powers?' I prompted, 'Like, a superhero thing?'
'Heh, you've been listening to Megan too much.' Orion grimaced, 'But no. It's more that...Uh..'
It took the Umbreon a few moments to pull his thoughts together. At least, I thought that initially. It was only when he started speaking that I realised what the pause was truely for.
'It was...Her.' He pretty much spat out the words, 'I don't know how to explain this properly...but it's like I need somebody to tell me to do stuff like that. I can't do things on my own unless somebody tells me to. It makes me feel useless. I know I can do it, but I can't…'
'But you did! You saved me more than once, and that other time with Ariados stinger on the palisade. And what about the Kecleon attack?'
At first I didn't think the man had heard me. He continued to stare out of the window with his back to the room.
'Orion? Is everything all right…?'
'The reason I said we-' The morph spoke quietly 'Is because you do that to me. You can command me like that. You let me do the stuff I have to do. I need somebody to order me what to do...and you do that…'
I was expecting my heart to stop at the revelation, but there was nothing but a dull agreement. I already knew that somehow. My mind had been tossing and turning over the information for so long now that Orion's admittance felt like old news. It was affirmation of my previous belief. Confirmation that the Pokemon-to-Trainer bond between the two of us was not just paranoia. However, the realisation of what Orion was actually suggesting came a few moments later. His crimson eyes glanced back in my direction as if expecting a visual affirmation of his implications.
'I can't do that.' I replied firmly, 'You're saying I can...use you to enter the hall, right? Is that what happened the first time? Mel…'
I stopped myself saying the trigger-word not a moment too soon. Orion had already tensed at the mere hint of context behind the word. With a sigh, I tried to rephrase my approach to the question. It did little to settle the pot on nerves in my stomach.
'Orion, this bond between us...it's not like that. I can't do that to you.'
'But what if-' The Umbreon-morph practically whined, but I didn't give him an inch of ground to argue.
'No. I can't just, just order you around like that. And to even think about the possibility of changing the...No. I won't do it.'
'But-' Orion practically pleaded but I shook my head. There was no anger in the motion, only a sad pity for the lengths that the morph was going to. It was only Orion's fevered attempts to even discuss the topic that hinted at the true threat of what was to come.
'I won't change the past Orion.'
The man's eyes begged me to change my mind.
'What if we make it worse?' I reasoned softly. 'What if we somehow ruin the world even more? What if we mess up history and send us to the dark ages...It's not even like I know what we're doing? Do you think you could do it again...do you even know how to? And what, you're just going to slay the legendaries again?'
Orion sighed, 'Did I in the first place?'
I narrowed my eyes.
'Explain.'
'Uh…' The Umbreon-morph cleared his throat. 'If I went through the Hall and reset the past, did it really happen? Maybe I never did kill the legendaries..?' He trailed off, apparently speaking before he was thinking.
'That thingy that wasn't Derrick knew you.' I pointed-out a flaw in his theory. 'If you upset the Gods...and I guess sort of slaying them might have that effect...then I think they still remember.'
'I guess so.' Orion admitted in a small voice. 'Yeah. It can't be that easy.''
I rubbed at my cheeks and once more stared at the pile of work on my desk. I was in no mood to return to ticking boxes and copying data across between tables. In fact, following that conversation, I wasn't really in the mood for anything. I felt a little bad for being so stern with my friend but it was a concept which was becoming increasingly important. No matter what happened, I wouldn't abuse Orion in that way. He'd had enough of it already...well, if that past did really happen or not.
'Anyway, I better be off.' It was actually Orion who excused himself. My exasperation must have become clear. Orion's face twitched and the skin around his scar puckered. The man had learnt to judge my moods well. Or at least, to assess when I'd had enough talking. 'I need to make it look like I'm doing something.'
'Yeah…' I agreed. 'But seriously. You've been doing loads. Have a rest later, alright?'
Orion grunted and went to leave, only pausing at the door when I called after him.
'You think anybody else is aware of the...you know, deadline?'
The morph hesitated, his golden-ringed tail twitched as he leant against the doorframe, 'I think so. Does it matter? We've done…'
Orion was about to say we'd done all we can, but it was clear he wasn't so sure. A flicker of his eyes towards me, the twitch in his ears, A faint golden glow to his rings; it was all a subtle suggestion to what he was really thinking. It was like trying to read a alethiometer. A few moments later and he waved a short farewell and headed out. The house creaked as he cross the landing and descended the stairs. When the door slammed a minute later, I was almost tempted to breathe out a sigh of relief.
Orion could be a little too intense even at the best of times.
It didn't help that his own concerns mirrored my own.
After trying and failing to file some paperwork, I gave up any attempts to be productive. To be fair, I wasn't in the right mood and it was getting late. It didn't help that Sparky had been commandeered for use in our tannoy system. An array of speakers were dotted around camp to play music or act for communication, though it was rarely used beyond playing smooth jazz during meals. Music was all I could think about as I descended the stairs to the front door.
Tugging on a coat, scarf, and some toasty gloves, I ventured outside. A sharp stomach rumble reminded me that dinner would be soon.
The cold made it feel like an adventure anyhow. Frost smothered Fort Haste like a coating of icing sugar. A thin mist clung to the frigid ground, disfiguring the afternoon light. Buildings rose out of the fog, bricks and wooden facings ghost-like in the still air. Camp stood in a strangely concentric arrangement. The Lee slopes ended with a steep embankment and the palisade, like a hard exterior shell. But that wasn't to say that Fort Haste was soft inside. Scaffolding shrouded the walls of the farm buildings like a strange exoskeleton, bristling with walkways adding an extra storey to the farmstead. Gabions narrowed defendable pathways; lime-rendered straw bales adding low walls to strategic locations.
Fort Haste was a 'fort' as much by nature as by name. Given the scare from aggressive Ferals breaching the exterior walls, camp had been turned into a defensive masterpiece. What had been strengthened had been fortified as undefendable became defensible. Kids worked from dawn to dusk building the infrastructure stone by stone. Those not moving bricks and timbre were fletching arrows and sharpening steel. The Keep stood watch over the proceedings as the K'field was blocked off. Orion's original plan for the farmland to act as a funnel had been disregarded by Mike and Jeff. Instead, a stone barricade had been thrown up and the Keep supported by buttresses to act as a look-out tower. It was one of the few things the two agreed upon.
But the real changes had taken place inside camp.
I contemplated this as I wandered up from the farmhouse in my normal loop around the back sheds to the FoodHall. So much had changed that it was easy to forget what Fort Haste had once been.
The stroll took me up behind the farmhouse to Mike's residence. Since the doors were blasted-off the workshop, one whole side of the shed had been replaced with featherboard and oak struts. Faint sounds of hammering could be heard from inside, a door left open to let out billows of sawdust. It was clear Mike was hard at work at yet another of his crazy projects.
I couldn't help poking my head around the door to see what was going on inside. Mike was laying on the floor next to one of the old Utes. The battered red pickup was in the process of being retrofitted with steel plates which the mechanic was bolting in place. I left him to his work, knowing how touchy the teenager could be when disturbed from completing an idea. Recently, Mike had been working on integrating some of his more outlandish weapons into camp's arsenal. Firework bazookas were just the start.
Upon stepping outside I was nearly swept off my feet by Kim jogging from the other direction. I did a slight double take, not expecting the merry grin on the morph's face. The older teenager had rapidly become much more comfortable appearance. That, I don't give a shite gothic tomboy outlook had been replaced with the I don't give a fook acceptance of being a Epseon-Morph. Her soft lilac ears bounced atop of short pink hair, perking up upon seeing me exit Mike's workshop. Kim didn't even try to hide her features anymore.
'Alright Fenn!' she greeted, forked tail helping to balance her slim body as she slowed. A bundle of PVC pipes were clasped under an arm as the hardy teenager eyed me curiously.
'Everything fine?'
'Yeah.' I mumbled, not wanting to admit I'd been skirting my admin duties for a brisk evening walk. 'Delivery for Mike?'
'Humph. Pretty much. He won't even let me touch his precious machine.' The teenager shivered, her small nose tipped red. It was clear that being immune to the cold was merely Orion's habit, rather that something characteristic of morphs. 'Prep for whatever might happen, you know?'
I just grunted, unsure exactly what the shorter teenager was referring to.
'Actually.' I suddenly remembered something off my list of jobs. 'I was going to ask about the radios? You managed to charge any up to see if they work?' Since Orion took it upon himself to do more in camp, I had to be careful we didn't double-up on chores.
'Eh. They're all crappy as fook. Better-off shouting. Though, I thought you and Hauser had arranged to uhh, you know? My abilities...if that's still, umm...ok?'
Kim grew very embarrassed when referring to her own psychic powers. Other than the reddening of her cheeks, the curling of her tail gave it away. The forked tips twisted as she hugged the PVC tubing closer to her chest.
'Only if you're happy with that.' I emphasised. In truth, I had almost forgotten I'd got the wheel turning regarding Fort Haste's human resources department. Most of the work had been left to Hauser to organise, given his huge breadth of knowledge regarding Pokemon abilities. Kim had been happy to engage in our small project. Since learning to control her mind-reading abilities, the Espeon-morph had become much more engaged in the Hastie community.
'Yeah...Oh…' Kim's tail twitched, 'Yeah that's fine.' She tried again, this time dropping her voice into my head. Her mouth didn't even twitch as the words, still in her northern accent, seemed to register in my ears.
'Cool. And you're ok hearing a few of our thoughts? Enough for the chain to communicate?'
'Huh. Try listening to nearly two hundred fookin voices. Half a dozen's fine.' Kim continued to communicate telepathically. She shivered suddenly, 'Uh. This damn weather. Can't stop...brrrr…' Kim mouthed in annoyance. Whether it was because of my raised eyebrows, or her own attempt at making conversation, the morph puffed out a sigh and tried to explain.
'I think it's an Espeon thing. It's like I can feel the air sometimes. Something's off.'
'It could just be the cold? Maybe some more snow'
'Eh' Kim waved off my suggestion, nearly spilling her arm-load of pipes, 'You never know, this could be it? Though, I've no idea what's going on most of the time anyway.' She shrugged, before heading inside the workshop. A loud clanged echoed from inside and I winced. In truth, I didn't even want to consider what mad invention Mike was testing. The last time I'd asked, the mechanic was experimenting with a ballista that almost took his head off.
I watched the morph go with a sigh.
Human resources wasn't the most benign way of estimating what abilities different Hasties had...and how they might be useful. However, it was a politically correct way of referring to how we could use the different morph's abilities to make Fort Haste run more smoothly. Kim's psychic Espeon abilities were just the start. There was Megan - the sneakiest Zoru-Morph in existence who did everything in her power to hide what she was truly capable of. Only Felix, still completely new to his renewed form, was happy to learn the application of his fire-related abilities. Insley had already made good use of that in the kitchens.
Hauser had been the real star, devising plans on how best to use the morph's individual talents to our advantage Well, apart from Orion of course. Although I was certain he knew of mine and Hauser's plans, he didn't force himself into our scheming. Both the aged Lucario and I were fully aware of what the Umbreon was capable of. I'd noted the leader of Fort Haste down as plan-G and left the details blank. It was something I didn't want to think about.
After a short loop round the back of the dormitories, I decided it might be a good idea to check in on the younger morphs. Like Orion had suggested, it was often a good idea to show your face to prove to the children that everything was still ok.
I pushed open the door to one of the activity rooms a few minutes later. Kicking off flecks of snow from my wellies, I tugged off my hat and mess of hair with it.
'Stupid thing.' I mumbled, sticking my hat into my pocket.
'Oh, hi Fenn.' A younger teenager looked up from one of the adjacent tables. The activity room was basically a sectioned-off area of the old shed that had been filled with round tables to work as a large teaching area. Bass was working with a group down the far end, though one of the year-thirteen leaders was running a session in origami? Some sort of paper folding anyhow.
'Hi Fenn!' One of the younger children greeted me. I couldn't remember her first name, but she was called something Cowells. Eleven years old and with a strange obsession for spoons. I made all the right noises, bending now to examine some rough sewing she was doing involving flaps of thick felt.
'That's really good!' I congratulated, 'Is Megan around? Felix?'
The young girl spun around to look for the named children. I held back a chuckle at the playful way in which she searched. Her needle and thread had to be removed by a vigilant year-leader when she tripped and almost stabbed a young boy.
I spotted the two morphs first however.
The two had their heads down over a number of sheafs of paper, most of which were charred around the outside. The Vulpix morph stood out with his bright red hair and perky vulpine ears, although he fitted into the ambience of the room no different to any other child. Megan had bonded well with the new morph, their friendship mostly consisting of Megan mothering the young boy. Felix huffed, become quite frustrated with the task. They were so focused that I managed to sneak over and take a seat beside them.
Megan quickly noticed the new arrival. Her body shimmered for the briefest instant as she jumped to face me. If I didn't know what to look for, the illusion would have been perfect. The afterimage of a perky Zorua ears and a bundle of grey fur under her neck also seemed fake.
'Hey! You scared me! I'm the only one who's supposed sneak like that!'
'Sorry.' I tried to sound regretful, but giggle anyway. I gave Felix a short wave. His clump of furry red tails wagged merrily as he gave a shy wave back. 'I just wanted to see how it was going.'
'Really?' Megan didn't seem convinced. 'You look stressed.'
'Stressed!?' I pulled a face, pretending to pull out my hair. Megan giggled, wiping at her face before tilting her head to the side slightly, 'Have you come to annoy us?' Megan asked with more concern than was necessary.
'Maybe…' I relaxed onto my knees, 'Whatcha doing?'
'Making paper snowflakes and stuff. Supposed to be decorations.'
'That's a nice idea.' I emphasised, peeking over at her work. Felix shifted his gaze to me and I offered an easy smile. There was some hesitation before he grinned back, lifting up a paper snowflake that he was currently making. 'It looks very relaxing.'
'It is.' Megan nodded. She brushed her hair out of her face before leaning over to pass me a piece of paper. 'Here. Let me show you. It might help your stress. We'll have time before the end of the session!'
'Aw...thanks.' I wasn't sure what to say as I lifted the paper out of her hands. For a moment I thought I might have been disturbing the small class. However, the kids working away at the table around us were too focused on their own work. Either that or they didn't really care that I was here anyhow. I mean, why should they? Bass shot me a small smile before working in the other room. I didn't really mind. I was surprised at how soothing the merry vibe was with the younger age groups.
'No. Like this.' Megan reached over to show me the first step. 'You have to make a little cut here to start.'
'There.' Felix pointed out for me with a finger. His ears twitched a little as once more his shyness took over.
With Megan showing me the steps (which in fact were pretty simple) I was making little paper snowflakes in no time. Something inside seemed to cry out at the wastage. I mean, nobody in the world manufactured plain white paper anymore. But the children's happy laughter made up for it. When you were normally tasked with making useful things for camp, simply making decorations held more pleasure than it should have done. I had a feeling Bass might have planned this activity specifically given increasing tensions over the rest of camp.
However, that didn't stop me for sitting down and working quietly with the two morphs. Between the three of us, and a couple of other young kids that came to help out, we'd amassed a small flurry of the white flakes.
*...FWEEEEP...MAIN GATE…POKEMON…*
I was so busy with making paper snowflakes that the loud whistle calls announcing arrivals with the gates almost went by unnoticed. I almost didn't hear the high-pitched tooting over the babble of young children and furious cutting of paper. It was already dropping dark outside as I hot-footed it across the yard. The sentries on duty were just opening up the huge oak doors when I arrived, trying to control my heavy breathing. I jogged up onto the top of the palisade to where Matt and Insley were stood regarding the situation. The Leafeon-morph hugged himself over top of a thick down coat.
'What's going on?' I spoke quickly, trying to hide the fact that I was out of breath.
'Wildlings.' Insley replied just as shortly. There were red rings around her eyes from where she'd been rubbing at them. 'More visitors.'
I looked over the wooden palisade to catch a glimpse of the Pokemon.
'Oh. Just a few.' I replied dryly. Insley snorted, but there was no humour in the expression. What looked like a whole herd of Sawsbuck were making their way slowly through the winding path across the Lee slopes. The front of the herd were already entering the yard, trialling what could only be described as a line of refugees behind. On their backs were the huddled forms of smaller woodland Pokemon, creatures like Minccino and Pichu clinging onto thick hazel fur. Even more Pokemon walked alongside, some carrying what looked like covered baskets on their back. There was everything from Purrloin to an old Zangoose, totaling to be what looked like over a hundred Pokemon...maybe two hundred odd?
'Uhhh.' I tried not to gawp, 'What's going on? Was I told about this?'
Matt and Inlsey looked at each other for a long moment. The cook elbowed the Leafeon-morph to say something. However, it was clear from his drooped ears that Matt wasn't so keen on the idea. He rubbed at his nose, flashing the chocolate fur on one of his hand-paws.
'Better you explain.' Insley prompted the morph, 'You know, as you heard the news first-hand...and can actually understand them.'
'Uhh...It's about Feral attacks.' Matt's tail twitched, 'Supposedly huge Feral numbers are gathering from the south and filling the forest. I think the Wildling herd have decided to come here for protection, and to help us too? Roan might be the best person to talk to…'
'Ok.' I nodded, casting my eyes across the Pokemon filling in through the main gate. It felt rude to point-out that I couldn't communicate with the deer-Pokemon. 'So the Ferals are gathering. That's not a good sign.'
'You're suggesting that this is it?' Insley turned to me. Fort Haste's cook and hot-tempered member of the War Council looked a little disheveled in a puffy down coat. Bags clung to her eyes as she squinted at the arriving Pokemon. The last glimmers of the evening sunlight did little to help the matter. Insley stole a nervous glance at me at the last moment, knowing she was broaching an elephant in the room.
'Maybe.' Was all I could mutter. 'But it's good to know they're here...whatever's going on.'
I stamped my feet on the cold ground. The sky above was completely devoid of clouds. With nothing to insulate the already frigid ground, the air temperature was already dropping through the minus numbers. Puffing out a breath of cold air, I watched a group of Sawsbuck lead their troop through into the front yard.
'Hey. You mind translating for me?' I called over to Matt. His ears perked up at the mention of his name. 'Need to see what we can do about organising this rabble.' Nodding, the Morph skidded down the embankment after me as I tried to locate the leader of the small herd.
The gathering Sawsbuck milled about a little worriedly, or at they looked like that. Up close and I was quickly reminded of just how big the deer-like Pokemon really were. Many were now dappled white with their winter coat, antlers rising proud to reach higher than I was tall. It was unsettling to feel so small. The shoulders of the winter-form deer reached my own. Many trotted about nervously, ensuring the smaller Pokemon they weaved between were warm enough in the brisk air.
I maneuvered between them with Matt, offering warm smiles in lieu of the language barrier. The Leafeon-morph hugged his tail close, trying to ignore a few strange glances he received from the Pokemon. Unlike myself, I guess he could hear what they were really saying. It was likely any of the Wildings had never seen another morph...beyond Orion. Nonetheless, I could almost feel their worry like a sixth sense. Something was seriously wrong.
Roan and I spotted each other simultaneously. The fluffy white Sawsbuck lifted his majestic head from where he'd been talking to a small deerling and nodded in my direction. I was tempted to bow in return. He walked over stiffly, trailing a back leg. That wasn't the only injury however. A large wound had shredded his left flank, blood soaking his dappled hazel fur.
A small huff from the Pokemon spoke more than words.
'It's not serious.' Matt mumbled to me, before hastily nodding his head towards the leader of the Wildling. His leaf-like ear drooped. 'They've been fighting Ferals.'
'Do you need medical help?' I asked quickly, 'I'm sure Jane…'
Roan shook his head. Ice tumbled from his antlers to form a cloud of small snow. For a long moment the Pokemon regarded me. His deep eyes tore through my very soul, a wounded pride pouring through. He spoke gently in a soothing rumble that sounded like waves on gravel.
'Uh…' Matt took a moment to translate the words. 'He's sorry to intrude like this...but he brings a warning that the Ferals are amassing? Yeah, umm…Large number of Ferals. Like, loads. He wants to offer his foot in defending Fort Haste. Hand? Yeah...uh...' The Leafeon-morph was clearly struggling to translate the Pokemon's termanology.
'Thank you.' I nodded back, trying to make it clear that the reply was meant for Roan and not the morph at my side. Matt scratched at the sleeve of his fraying brown hoodie with some discomfort.
I paused.
'You've heard about what's been threatened?' I wasn't sure how to phrase the question. The large buck regarded me for a moment before nodding sternly.
'Wh..uh...This could be it?' Matt translated, turning to me sharply. This time the hurried words he garbled were his own 'Wait? This is…?'
Roan snorted loudly, effectively silencing the morph. Matt reddened, apologising in his own Pokemon speech. The small yaps sounded forign coming from the ex-trainer. Almost a little too-cute from the boyish teenager. I forgot about the level of respect that Roan commanded, even for humans like ourselves.
'How long have we got?' I queried, shifting out of the way of a passing Sawsbuck. 'You know, if this Feral army is heading towards camp?'
Roan's eyes shifted in the dusky evening light.
'At best...A day.' Matt mumbbled. Whatever the Sawsbuck had said to the morph had perked him up a little. He translated our conversation shakily, but managed to get the information across. The deer-Pokemon explained the situations in brief.
Things weren't looking good.
That was putting it lightly, even for me. For the past week, Feral appearances were becoming more frequent in the woodlands to the south. With a dip of his antlers, Roan explained how only in the past few hours they had began to congregate. Huge deformed beasts that dwarfed even the Sawsbuck had been pushing deep into Wildling territory. This afternoon they came life a wave, stalking through the trees and destroying everything in their path. Roan had led a weak parry to try and flank the swarms. His eyes were wide however when he failed to describe the number involved. A continuous line of the beasts meant surrounding them had been impossible. Ferals as far as the eye could see.
From then on it had been a hasty retreat towards camp. Roan stamped his hooves with frustration as he explained the dire situation. Their territory had been swept over by the rampaging, mindless beasts before they had time to evacuate. Several friends had been lost on the way. Pokemon trying to save their friends before being lost to the mutated creatures themselves. Roan arrived at Fort Haste not only to warn us and to protect his own people, but to strengthen the Hasties' own numbers. A fire burnt in the Sawsbuck's eyes when he mentioned vengeance for his fallen Pokemon.
Matt stuttered a little at the comment, before turning to me with a worried expression. I just shrugged as the Sawsbuck phrased another question. My eyes wandered across the surrounding hodgepodge of Pokemon, now aware of the origins of their wounds. I could only pray none of the Sawsbuck had been infected.
'Where's Orion?' Roan finished with a huff, eyeing his flock of Pokemon. Matt translated the emotion poorly. I could see the uncertainty painted in the deer-Pokemon's expression as clear as day.
'I think he's sleeping to be honest. You wanna…?' I trailed off, unsure of what I wanted to say. 'Perhaps we should find a place for you to settle first? If you're seeking refuge then we need to make sure all the Pokemon are safe.'
Roan nodded stoically, turning his neck to survey the bustling herd of Pokemon around him. Now that the solid front gates were closed, the pack had breathed a collective sigh of relief. The core group of Sawsbuck, likely about three dozen, had tended to small family groups of weaker normal types. I knew enough of the body language to see what snorts and rough whinnies were there to provide some form of comfort. Other Pokemon eyed us Hasties wearily. There was a tiredness in their eyes born of the weeks of sleepless nights spent in constant fear of being terrorised by rabid Ferals. Even when Fort Hastes' own resident wildlings came to offer comfort, there was clearly some trepidation in accepting their new position.
With a sigh, I puffed out an uneasy bubble in my stomach. My breath fogged the air.
I saw Roan watch me out of the corner of his eye. Judging me most likely, but also with a soft kindness that spoke of our shared horror. Pokemon and humans alike had been submitted to the same arduous task of survival in this new world. Apart from fur, tails, and antlers...the Wildling's were no different to us Hasties trembling behind stout barricades.
'You ok Fenn?' Matt elbowed me gently. I wasn't aware of how long I'd been staring into space.
'Yeah.' I mumbled, wiping at my red nose, 'Let's settle you in.'
Clearing my throat, I called over to Insley. The teenager was overseeing the locking of the gates, almost missing me waving her over. She slid down off the palisade, bright red raincoat in sharp contrast to the neutral tones of the wild Pokemon. Roan eyed the cook for a moment before nodding grandly towards her. Insley managed a weak smile before turning to me.
'What's up?'
'I need to you to pass the word to Jeff. The sentries need to be on alert for Ferals. Like, lots of Ferals.'
'So it's happening?' Insley grimaced. I could only groan, hoping the noise would also cover a sliver of fear in my tone. It happening only meant one thing. Although we might have avoided talking about it, the forewarned return of the Legendaries was playing on everyone's minds. Everybody had mentioned it as if speaking the truth out-loud might seal our fate. I felt like I was missing something.
'No idea. Just make sure they know. Eyes peeled, I want as much warning as is physically possible…then find Orion. Make sure he's awake, and send him my way.'
'Sure.' Insley huffed out a sigh. She always hated running messages back and forth. 'And the plan?'
'Everybody on high alert for Ferals. I need Matt-' I turned the Morph who was lingering on the edge of our conversation. Insley grabbed his arm and pulled him closer, Matt yipping in surprise before blushing intensely at the animalistic response. 'Matt. I need you to organise these new wildlings into a unit that fits into our defence plan. Get Mike involved if you have to. Actually we're going to need Mike to pass out the radios and…'
I ran a hand across my fringe. With the eyes on Roan on me, I was suddenly aware of just how serious my role of responsibility was.
'Ok, let me make this clear. So Insley, you warn Jeff and get the sentries on high alert. Grab Orion and Mike, and Kim too if you can find her. We'll meet under the Keep. Matt, you help me settle in the Pokemon and then work on making some form of defence plan involving them. We want to integrate them easily into our defences without mucking-up what we already have. Got it?' I turned my attention to each of them in turn. 'Have I missed anything?'
'Sounds good. I'll find Jeff.' Insley shrugged, before ducking through the crowd of Pokemon. The Sawsbuck were clearly the ones in charge, trying to keep many of the frisky wild Pokemon in line. Some, much like Roan, appeared injured and were helping each other. I eyed their wounds wearily. If some were infected...
'Ok.' I turned to the leader of the Wildlings. 'Lets see whether we can help patch you up, settle you in, and then pick your brains on what exactly we might be facing. Hopefully Orion should be up by then.'
Roan nodded firmly, replying with something which Matt only translated as an agreement.
'Right.' I steadied myself, pushing down a bubble of panic already constricting my gut. 'You mind following me Roan and we'll see if we can fit you guys in the old wood shed, and maybe the Sawsbuck in the Food Hall?'
It took forever to organise everything.
Evening had dropped to night in what felt like minutes. I scrambled to ensure the Wildlings were settled, meanwhile organising Fort Haste's high-alert response. My ears craned for a whistle call as expecting a Feral attack at any moment.
When the moment of calm after the storm finally did come, I hadn't realised just how bone tired I was. My legs felt weak from standing up constantly for the last eight hours. My throat was dry from giving orders, mind addled from lack of sleep and the stress of what was to come. I'd settled in the Wildlings with the help of Matt. I'd briefed Kim on helping Megan, talking a thousand strategies with Hauser on the nature of the Legendaries. Then had come my chat with Jeff and Mike, ensuring everything was in place. Rumours of a Feral swarm had swept through camp like wildfire. With the hour every Hastie new of what was coming our way.
Out of everybody I'd talked to, from kids to teenagers, humans to Pokemon, there was only one person I had yet to see.
At whatever small hours of the morning it was, Orion found me high up on the near-shed leant against the steel poles of the scaffolding stack. It was the only place on camp which was secluded but still had the view of the sprawling farmland beyond. A crescent moon illuminated the winter landscape. The same moon that had watched Derricks arrival just a month earlier.
My breath fogged the air. Even through my gloves, I could feel the frozen steel supports under my fingers.
I knew Orion was coming for a diffuse golden light appeared nearly twenty feet below. The Umbreon-morph overwise blended into the night like a shadow. His feet made little sound as I clambered up a ladder, not even scuffing the wooden board lining each level. I stared outwards, watching the sentries move eerily between each station.
Their lamps were shuttered to only shine outwards such that no stray light strayed back into Fort Haste. Only the flash of a head torch now and then marked a rapid sentry change over.
I fiddled with the whistle in my pocket when Orion finally leant against the railing next to me. The stack of scaffolding wobbled precariously.
'You need to sleep.' Orion spoke quietly. He didn't try to make eye contact, dampening the glow of his rings and staring into the abyss.
I just grunted.
'I'm nocturnal. You are not.' Orion prompted. 'And tomorrow...it's going to be rough. A Feral army? Hauser's convinced it's a cover.'
'And what about you?' Puffing out a sigh, I blinked slowly. 'What do you think?'
Orion stared out into the distance for what felt like a few minutes. Given the dark night and my own lack to sleep, it could have been seconds. Only the frozen air and the rasping of the cold in my lungs kept me awake.
'Hmm.' Orion rubbed at his nose, 'I think I should have warned you of this before it all started.'
'Yeah. That would have been good.' I agreed. Any dry wit I tried to force into the words were overridden by genuine frustration. Being tired sucked, even more so when sleep was impossible. 'But it might just be a scare right? We've dealt with Ferals before. Fort Haste is like the last place they want to attack.'
'But they always do.' Orion huffed, 'They're mad. We don't know what drives them...maybe hunger? Scents?' He didn't suggest the darker motives the Ferals might possess. Even now we didn't know why the mutated Pokemon threw themselves at our defences.
For a long moment neither of us spoke.
The pale white moon moved in it's arc across the sky degree by minute degree.
'All of this will help.' Orion cleared his throat, 'But I'm your best defence against them. Whatever happens. I can do-'
'I...I know. But we've talked about this. I can't do that.'
'You..' Orion went to retort but stopped himself. HIs flash of anger decayed into a melancholic puff of air. I ignored the flash of gold from the ring adorning his forehead. His thick black fringe did little to hide the glow.
The Umbreon's tail twitched in what could have been frustration.
'It's the idea.' I explained to the morph. 'It's our morals that make this place. We're Hasties now. Our past doesn't matter, only our survival. We stick together and we push through because that's what we do.'
'And if there was a choice to stop this instantly...to stop it from ever happening?'
I shook my head.
Orion shrugged, descending into silence once more.
For a few minutes we watched the sentry switch back and forth between their positions. No whistles called out, though my ears almost craved the release of a warning blast. Somewhere deep in my gut I knew the swarm of Ferals (which Matt said was the best translation for what Roan had warned) was approaching. In the darkness beyond something unnatural was gathering. And for once, it wasn't caused by the virus.
'You need rest.' Orion whispered, almost afraid to rupture the still night.
'I'll rest when I'm dead.' I mumbled, itching at tired eyes.
'Well. It's going to be a long night then.' The Umbreon morph sighed, leaning against a scaffolding pole. The structure swayed a little underneath. Somewhere in the distance, I heard a dull clatter as another Hastie repositioned themselves along the steel structure.
After all the excitement of the day, it was almost peaceful to enjoy the cold night. I was so tired that it was almost subconsciously that I asked Orion a question.
'This is all a bit anticlimactic, isn't it? You think this swarm of Ferals...you think this is it?'
'No.' Orion grumbled but failed to extrapolate.
Together, we watched the moon arch across a clear black sky.
The next morning dawned cold and bright.
I can safely say that because I'd barely slept. A pale crescent moon hung in an icy sky almost completely devoid of clouds. Stars were strewn across the heavens so thickly that you made constellations out of the dark patches, not the lights themselves. For a while I'd helped in the new sentry office, keeping track of who went in or out. That was until Jeff's shift started at four-am and he found my fast asleep at the desk.
My breath fogged the air, scarf wrapped tightly around my neck as I mooched between the food hall and the main gate. A nervous energy stung the pit of my stomach as I tried to rationalise everything that had happened. The Legendaries couldn't be real! Orion couldn't change the past! Of course humanity hadn't been wiped out by a mysterious virus! Either none of it was real, or it all was. And no matter how much I tried to deny the fact, I knew the Umbreon-morph had somehow dabbled in it all.
What would I change if I could go back and start from scratch again?
In the chill pre-dawn light, there was no answer. Fort Haste stood sentinel, scaffolding lining the exterior walls like a weird steam-punk machine. For the first time in it's life, camp no longer looked like the farmstead it originally was. The addition of the embankment, Lee slopes, Keep, and now the added defences around the main yard had turned it into a rustic fortress. There was a strange beauty is how ugly it was, but also how it was simply fit for purpose. Nothing more.
My view from on top of the Keep was unspoilt. I had a full view from every direction, something which would come in handy if we ever became completely surrounded. However, the three-storie stack of pegged straw bales underfoot didn't exactly feel stable.
The air was deadly still.
An icy blue sky overhead only reminded my how big the heavens were above. Fort Haste was a pale black smudge across a white landscape of frost. Even though there were no clouds to cause it, flecks of snow blew through the air. I had to blink to clear the flakes from my eyelashes. The temperature had steadily dropped during the night and now continued to fall. It was so cold in fact that even breathing the air hurt. All moisture had been sucked out of the air, leaving it crystal clear. Huge metre-long icicles were starting to form from where the water-pipes were leaking from the shed roofs.
Only the footfalls of the sentries on duty broke the silence of camp. The Wildlings had filled most of the Foodhall. Not that it made much difference. Most of the Hasties were awake and manning their stations throughout the night. Roan paced back and forth across the main yard, stitched up but still hobbling with the frustration of not being able to continue the fight. A small cloud of moisture followed him as he snorted.
I'd lost track of how many layers I had on. I could barely bend my arms even as I rubbed my gloves hands together. Stepping out of the Keep and I was greeted by a small gust of icy air. Flecks of snow spiraled and then settled.
'It shouldn't be this cold.' Kim mumbled next to me. She had her beret one once more, this time with holes cut-out for her tall pink Espeon ears. Rubbing at her arms with gloves hands, the morph puffed out a cloud of vapour. It was no wonder she was shivering. Kim refused to drop her leather jacket. The garment looked ridiculous stretched over a number of woolly jumpers.
'And why's that?' I adjusted my scarf to the point I had my whole chin buried in the garment.
'Like...two degrees down to minus fifteen in the space of a few hours? That's mad. And it's still dropping. It ain't natural.'
'Hmm.' I shrugged, though it was lost under my puffy coat. 'Aren't Espeon's supposed to be able to feel the weather on their fur? Isn't that what you said yesterday?'
Kim caught me eyeing her soft forked tail and whipped it out of view.
'Nerves, I reckon.' The tomboy replied,
'Meh.' I feigned pretense, but couldn't stop myself chewing on a lip. Kim wasn't far off. I hadn't slept at all last night and neither had the morph by the looks of her eyes. A large cut was etched across one eyebrow and I pointed out the injury.
'What happened? You seen Jane about that?'
'Not sure...and I'd rather die than to be honest. Must've scratched myself when working on Mike's new toy.' Kim replied matter-of-factly before changing the topic of conversation suddenly. 'This weather might be, uh them...you know?'
'We're all just jumpy.' I noted.
Kim snorted but didn't say anything. I wasn't sure why the morph wanted to follow me across the yard, but she did so anyway. Black ice slipped under my wellies as I nodded solemnly to Roan. The Sawsbuck dropped his head for a moment in return, eyes filled with worry. A couple of younger Sawsbuck hung around him and it was clear they were discussing something.
'Let me know if you have any problems.' I offered, before continuing over to the front gate.
It was only when we'd made it round the back of the front shed that Kim whispered over harshly.
'They're shite scared. Not going to lie but they saw some serious…'
'Fenn!' I felt rather than heard my name being called. Turning to Kim and I thought she might have been messing around with her powers. However, my confusion dissipated when I recognised Hasuer's gruff telepathic speech. I wasn't sure how to reply, given that I had no idea where the Lucario was. 'Ferals!'
It was then that a whistle call screached through the frigid air.
*...FWEEP...SOUTH...FERALS...SOUTH…*
'What's that?' Kim turned to me sharply.
I broke into a run towards the main gate. I skidded over the icy ground but managed to stay on my feet. Pulling out my own whistle from my pocket I went to blast a reply. Just as the metal touched my lips however, somebody had already beaten me to it.
*...FERALS...HIGH ALERT…*
Jeff was already stood up on the palisade next to the main gate. He had his back turned, though looked over his shoulder when he heard me come stomping over. Kim wasn't far behind, though her gait was notably much more graceful.
'Now might be a good idea to put our strategy into practice.' Hauser dropped his voice into the space between my ears. I jumped at the unexpected distraction, stumbling before the base of the palisade. Kim nearly slid into the back of me as I turned to her.
'Change of plan. You mind finding Megan and see if you can do all that, uh-' I waved my hands in the air, losing the true effect with my mittens, '-that stuff.'
Kim had the audacity to roll her eyes. I held back a chuckle thinking how catty it was.
'Uh-huh. I get you.' There was a moment of hesitation before she turned back round however. The realisation that the end we'd been planning for weeks was now all falling into action. 'I'll get to it.'
I nodded, already turning to climb the steep slope to the top of the palisade. The muddied surface had frozen to ice. Cold sweat pooled in my armpits as I pumped my arms, falling in besides a very worried-looking Jeff. I didn't know how he was surviving without a hat. His rainbow scarf was tied tightly above his jacket however. He eyed me pensively before pointing out across the farmland.
'I spot a few coming out of the trees. Looks like a black smudge. They're huge fooker's, that's for sure.'
'I see them.' I squinted at the treeline of Viridian Forest in the distance, trying to make out the discoloration the Squadron leader was describing. As I looked, another whistle call announced more Ferals. I had to give it to the Hasties, they'd managed to spot the Wildlings at the same time as Hauser with his aura superpowers.
*...FWEEEET...FERALS...WEST…*
'Shit. I wish I had my binoculars.' Jeff muttered.
I'd already turned to the right to see where more of the beasts were coming from. Holding my breath so as not to fog the air, my eyes hurt from squinting across the white landscape. It was such a crisp, clear winters day that you could see for miles. Now that the warning had gone up that Ferals had been spotted, it was clear that all of the sentries were doing their best to spot more.
'This isn't looking good.' I muttered, even as another blast echoed across camp. 'I can see more in that direction as well. The swarm is sweeping out of the forest by the looks of it.'
'I see you.' Jeff gritted his teeth. 'They're travelling fast. Look. They've literally crossed that first track in barely a minute.'
*...FWEEPP...NORTH EAST...FERALS…*
*...FWEEEEEET...FERALS...SOUTH WEST…*
The two whistle calls almost came on top of each other
'The bastards.' Jeff swore loudly, 'They're surrounding us? How did they get around us?'
'Maybe the Viridian Ferals' weren't the only ones…'
'Where the hell did they all come from then?! Fook this.' Jeff glared at me, though I knew the anger was meant for only one thing.
'They're surrounded us. Less numbers from the north.' Hauser dropped the intel into my mind and I passed it onto Jeff just as quickly. The teenager's face had harder as his refused to remove his eyes from the encroaching mutated beasts.
'We're looking at hundred of them. They'll be here within an hour.'
'Good we've prepared.' I replied as lightly as I could. The hole in my stomach failed to add the humour I wanted to the words. 'We can-'
'We can try.' Jeff grunted. He rolled his own metal whistle round in the palm of his glove. He hesitated for a moment as I watched the squadron leader out of the corner of my eye. In the distance and the black smudge of Ferals had congealed into a dark line that rushed out of the Viridian treeline only three miles distant. And they kept coming. A swarm of the mutated, virus-inflicted Pokemon that seemed utterly impossible even as if happened before my eyes.
'They're ordered.' I commented, 'Feral's don't behave like that.'
'Ferals can go fook themselves.' Jeff reponsed. He'd pulled his whistle to his lips, speaking angrily with metal between his teeth.
*...FERALS APPROACHING…* he blasted so loudly on the whistle I cringed, covering my ears. *...POSITIONS...FERALS APPROACHING…*
Only then did the teenager turn to me.
'I can do this right? Warn everyone? Positions?'
I nodded,
'Yep. This is it.'
XXX
[4:29] Christopher Cross - Ride Like The Wind (1979)
It is the night
My body's weak
I'm on the run
No time to sleep
Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon. This story is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to any events, location, and/or persons, living or dead, is coincidental. The views expressed by the characters and/or the narratives do not necessarily reflect the author's views. This fiction is rated T and may be unsuitable for young audiences. 'Fort Haste' is a fictional concept that is owned and regulated by ZenColour. Viewer discretion is advised