Two people stood next to an upturned table in a sea of screaming voices and darting flesh. Their world had been turned inside out, and for the second time in as many days Ash and Misty had a desperate need for shelter.
"Ok..." began Misty, trying desperately to keep her voice under control, "what are our options?"
"Leave the city?" Ash asked.
"Most of our stuff is back at the hotel," she reminded him, "we could go back there and barricade it up."
Ash shook his head, "the building would be too vulnerable. We should hurry back there and get our stuff then..."
"What is it?" Misty nearly screamed the question, so shocked by the abrupt halt in his train of thought.
"I..." Ash clenched his eyes closed, "I left Pikachu in at the centre this morning. It's at the other end of town and in the opposite direction to the hotel."
Misty cursed at that, knowing all too well that it would be nearly impossible to fight their way through the crowds in time. She saw Ash's solution perhaps even before he recognized it, and instantly moved to object but he cut her off.
"I'm going to get Pikachu. There's no way we'll have enough time to do both, so you go get our bags from the hotel and I'll meet you back here as soon as I can," he informed her grimly. She shook her head to disagree, but he held up a hand. "It's the only way this is going to work, you know it, and we don't have time to argue."
Misty glared at him darkly for a moment, and then nodded with resolve.
"Ok. Be careful Ash."
"You too Misty," he cautioned, "The mayor said the army gets here at about eight. If I'm not back here by six then get the hell away from here and find whatever shelter you can."
"It won't come to that," she said, whirling around and sprinting in the direction of the hotel before he could shatter the possible lie. Ash nodded and smiled mirthlessly.
"I hope so," he murmured, and then he too began the fight towards his own destination.
The desperate pleas of the mayor played out in poorly defined rows of light as she continued her broadcast on a large television on display in a shop window. Suddenly her features distorted and then shattered as the brick imploded the screen, showering the TV casing and hastily secured merchandise stands with broken glass. The wretched fingers of a couple of different looters began to pick over the valuables.
Ash flashed past them, not noticing or caring. He was concentrating hard on avoiding any interpersonal contact. Already he had collided with another person, knocking them to the ground, and as a result had been forced to stop and help them. He also had a painful buzzing in his head from the encounter that did not help a bit.
He swerved his path to hug the wall of a nearby building, closely avoiding becoming stuck between more looters and rioters and an armored police vehicle with a high pressure water hose. His hair whipped into his eyes from the back draft of a screaming man in an expensive looking business suit as he ran past, apparently blind to everyone. Ash was forced slightly sideways and he scraped his right arm and cheek against the coarse red brickwork, barely noticing.
He ran along an overpass, blocked by a car lying on its side, and glanced along the intersecting street below. For as long as the street ran all Ash could see were blocked or abandoned cars, people running, or looting, or rioting, and fires that had broken out in several small businesses.
Ash estimated he was about a third of the way to the Pokemon center, and was about to redouble his efforts when he caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of his eye. There had been two murky shadows moving erratically in a narrow space between buildings. He almost ignored it, but he felt that the scream he heard was slightly more immediate than the panicking crowd. He hesitated only a moment before making a decision.
When he reached the alley he saw a woman in a white blouse and a pale yellow miniskirt backing away, terrified, from a tall man with dirty white hair in a blue denim jacket.
"Bob, no!" she screamed, but he did not halt his advance. Ash pounced.
He hit the taller man in the back at full force, using his shoulder to knock him as hard as possible. 'Bob' had a moment to let a startled yelp escape before he found hard asphalt pressing painfully into his cheek. Ash ground his knee into the other's shoulder blades and grabbed him by the hair, pulling his head up. Ash pressed his lips close to Bob's ear.
"Lady said 'no', Bob," he growled menacingly, becoming slightly animalistic in his anger. He slammed the head down, knocking him out. Ash estimated he had bought about fifteen minutes.
He glanced at the woman. She hadn't moved, but she now looked at him fearfully instead.
"Are you hurt?" Ash asked, but the woman just stared at him with bulging eyes. Finally something clicked and she screamed, pushing past him as she fled. Ash shook his head.
"Welcome," he grunted, and ordered his burning limbs to carry him onward.
After a claustrophobic crush of hotel occupants which sent Misty's nerves into overdrive, she opted for the stairs. Only eleven flights, and infinitely preferable to an overcrowded elevator designed to carry fifteen people. The muted carpet patterns of deep green vines intertwining over a burgundy background made Misty's vision swim slightly as her feet powered over the steps. Many others were racing up and down here also, and for one brief moment of madness she imagined that this is what it must be like to run through a train carriage in Calcutta.
By the tenth floor her left hamstring cramped up and she was reduced to pulling herself the rest of the way with her arm on the guard rail. Blessedly when she finally reached her floor it was reasonably uninhabited. She coaxed herself into a brisk walk that wasn't too painful as she scanned the shiny brass room numbers.
"Fifteen... seventeen... ah!" she scrabbled with the key, trying to get it in the lock of number nineteen. Her hands were shaking too violently, and she forced herself to take a breath.
Back in control again, Misty swiftly unlocked the door, and closed it behind her. She began throwing their belongings onto the bed, along with some fresh towels and the contents of the mini-bar. She paused suddenly, and turned to the floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out upon the city. Misty walked slowly toward the image of destruction and gasped. It seemed that everyone was too impatient to wait for the army and had started early. Smoke billowed slowly up in vaporous tunnels from several sections of the city, and she could see the angry flashing lights of the emergency services as they tried to reach the worst areas.
To her dismay, Misty realized that the light was already beginning to leave the day, and soon it would be sunset. Had it really taken her that long to reach the hotel? On the horizon she caught a glimpse of some form of aircraft, most likely a helicopter, moving about. A large but distant dust cloud was also apparent which she recognized, to her horror, as the filth churned up by the approaching tanks and troop transports.
Her watch read four-thirty. The seconds raced on in a blur, and it finally jogged her from the window. She ran to their luggage and blindly started shoving items in.
Ash stumbled to a halt after a half-hour of solid running. He put his hands to his stomach and waited as his heart stopped straining against his ribcage and the rhythmically pulsing spots in front of his eyes began to fade. His breath slowed and he wiped the sweat from his dripping forehead like a sheet of rain.
He knew he was in no danger from the attacker, but a greater sense of alarm penetrated his mind. Memories of his thoughts at the time, and the way all conscience had vanished to facilitate protection of the woman at any cost, crashed upon him like waves on a shore. The thought that he was capable of such primal indifference terrified him. He knew he would have killed the man without a thought, had it come to that.
Ash bent low and vomited on the ground. Fiery bile seared the back of his throat and he lost all sense of balance for a moment before he stabilized himself and wiped his mouth off. It was as if the horror he felt at the darker, more desperate side of himself was flushed away with the contents of his stomach and all that was left was a shameful tingle, and a realization of just how much precious time he was wasting in self indulgence.
It was almost five! The streets were beginning to empty and the light was rapidly failing. Ash also realized that he must have fled blindly from his earlier encounter in the wrong direction and he had all too much ground to make up. His limbs shot into motion and he ignored the pain that tore through their overworked sinews.
Misty chewed her nails anxiously, and looked over her shoulder. It was too quiet for her liking. She sat in the shadows, on a low wooden stool inside the Plaza Café, shielded somewhat by the chaotic array of upturned tables and chairs. From her observation area she watched the grey concrete outside turn the color of a fresh picked orange and stark black shadows grew long from trees and street lamps. The buildings' mirrored faces were just too painful to view as they reflected the sunset in all its blinding glory.
Where the hell was Ash? It shouldn't be taking this long. He had left her three hours ago, which was easily enough time to make it there and back, even considering the state of the streets. She paused from her vigil to reach in to her backpack and draw out a charcoal colored knitted jumper. She slipped it over her head and immediately felt relief from the rapidly descending chill of evening.
When she looked up, she could see a silhouette of a man rendered indefinite by the light.
"Ash?" she called out gingerly.
"Not quite love, but soon that's all this city will be," wheezed the man who was possessed with a gravelly, unpleasant voice.
A bolt of alarm passed through Misty's body from the center of her chest to her outer extremities like an electric shock. It must have showed on her face.
"Aw, don' worry love," the man drawled, "show an old man some comfort and I'll be good to ya."
Misty forced her shock, and fright, away with a thought. She whipped her right arm out and grabbed a half-full wine bottle. The violent sound of smashing glass echoed through the silence like a volatile obscenity uttered in a place of reverence.
"I'll show you comfort all right," she growled at him, standing up and brandishing the business-end of the broken bottle at the startled man. He backed off a little. There was a faint whistling noise now coming from somewhere, but neither of them had time or compulsion to notice.
"C'mon girlie, you shouldn't be messin' with sharpies," he mock chided, but the alarm was apparent in his voice.
Misty swiped at him again with the weapon and he decided to cut his losses and flee. She sunk back on her stool with relief and let her breath out. It was lucky she had sat down when she had because, no sooner had she assured herself that the danger was over, there was a thunderous roar from some other part of the city and every piece of glass in the café, including the broken bottle still clutched in Misty's hand, shattered explosively.
Oblivious to the blood dripping down her fingers onto the ground, Misty ran to the door and scanned the surroundings frantically, her mouth agape. A giant column of foul black smoke was curling into the peach colored sky like a demonic, amorphous jellyfish.
Her stomach suddenly felt very, very heavy.
"Pika!"
A nervous Pikachu had only a moment to look relieved as Ash grabbed him and reversed direction without breaking his gait. Ash nodded once to the harried Nurse Joy behind the counter before sprinting for the exit. The entrance was not barricaded like he had expected and it had given him no trouble on the way in, but he saw the two burly looking security guards now, with bandoliers of Pokeballs and biceps like tree trunks and he knew now why the centre had not been looted like everywhere else.
The guards followed him with their slightly paranoid eyes as he walked past them and exited. Ash noticed now what he had not when he ran inside. The sun had set and the sky was that indefinable shade of intermingling blue and orange, which precedes night. If Ash was alarmed by this, he was truly startled to see the man from earlier staring at him intently.
"You!" Ash managed, before he was lying on the ground with a stinging pain in his jaw.
Suddenly the man was on top of him with his hands around Ash's throat. His grip was so tight that Ash could feel the fingers pinching into his skin while the pressure of an unshed breath built up behind his crushing esophagus. With bright flashing coronas exploding across Ash's darkening vision he managed to locate the other's head and swipe with a powerful fist. He could hear Pikachu going crazy and felt small shocks as, he assumed, the Pokemon electrocuted the man and it passed into Ash himself.
The grip around his throat loosened a fraction and his vision cleared enough to see the man now upright and trying to swat Pikachu. Ash raised a knee back, almost to his chest, and kicked the man forcefully in the chest. The man stumbled backward off Ash but managed to remain on his feet.
It was at that moment the world detonated and Ash truly thought he had died. The roaring was so immense it seemed to encompass everything in existence and time was lost to Ash. He registered that everything seemed to slow down, even his heart, as he felt the adrenaline surge through his nervous system.
He watched in a distracted sort of way as dust and several large rocks landed on top of him and observed a giant piece of rubble, which appeared to be a piece of wall, sail over him and collide with the startled looking man. Ash closed his eyes rather than watch that in slow motion. His eyes remained closed until the explosion had stopped.
Ash heard a sound like someone screaming underwater, and he realized that it was his own voice. He stopped, panting, and cleared the debris off himself. Everything he could hear was muffled by the rushing, swelling sound of water and his vision swam as he struggled to his feet.
The Pokemon centre was now reduced to a mound of pulverized rock interspersed with spot fires. The street was now just an extension of the destruction, and Ash suddenly understood how lucky he was to be alive instead of a bloody smear underneath a giant piece of the wreckage like his unfortunate assailant. Ash turned to study the body but looked away instantly, the remains too horrific to look at.
His eyes widened suddenly and he realized he had no idea where Pikachu was. Ash dimly heard himself call out for the Pokemon as he scattered rocks in search. His eyes caught a something yellow lying under a large rock and he stared at it in shocked silence.
"God no," Ash moaned hopelessly as he ran to rescue the creature. He knew it would be in vain as he would never be able to move such an obstruction and anything trapped underneath it would be already dead, but he couldn't help himself. His hands grasped what appeared to be a tail and pulled. It came away freely in his hands and for a terrible moment he thought he had just pulled Pikachu's tail off. Then he realized what he held in his hand was just a dishcloth.
"Pi," managed Pikachu, tugging at the leg of Ash's pants tiredly. He was bruised and cut superficially but otherwise alive. Ash blinked away tears as he gathered Pikachu in his arms and made it clear to him just how relieved he was.
The sound of a chopper approaching interrupted them, and Pikachu ran up Ash's arm to hide behind his neck. Ash saw the gleaming black helicopters cockpit rise in the air, and its tail lower as it decelerated. It was a small craft with a rounded front and a small bay on the side. The only marking it bore was the white silhouette of a winged snake.
Ash took a tentative step backward as the craft hovered for a moment above the destroyed building, turning sideways so a soldier clad in black combat gear sitting in the cradle on the side could aim at Ash with his machine gun. Ash had no options. Running would get him killed. He raised his hands in the air.
The soldier, a grim looking man with piercing blue eyes and black hair, raised his head from the sights of the P-90 and stared at Ash for a moment then turned and barked an order to the pilot, which was lost to Ash in the sound of the beating rotors.
Then, amazingly, the helicopter rose and flew back in the direction it had come.
Ash just stood there, overwhelmed by the rapidity with which his world had just turned upside-down. Pikachu tapped him softly, urging him out of his reverie. The sound of diesel motors and squealing tank tracks was audible to Ash's returning hearing. He whirled around and fled the approaching army.