Chapter Three: The Realization
Peru, ca. 2010
BAM!
Jennifer, her long red hair tied loosely in a large bun behind her, banged her fist against the small wooden table. It had taken her a week to walk to the nearest town, a town with less than a hundred people - angry people who distrusted and hated Americans for profiting off their land as if it belonged to them. Here she was, broken and unarmed, facing an officer of the Peruvian military police and a group of testy locals who had heard of the tragic explosion that cost about thirty lives, lives the small town couldn't easily replace. Jennifer gritted her teeth and wiped the sweat off of her face. She still felt a little woozy after the blast, and she still hadn't found her cat Jewel, either. She had searched for two days, but there was no sign of her. She tried to shake her frustration out of her mind. She glared at the officer.
"I'm not leaving until I have some sort of explanation," Jennifer demanded.
Nonplussed, the officer crossed his arms and inhaled briefly, his frown unchanging. "No, Señora," the officer repeated rather gruffly, "Returning to Los Estados Unidos is the only way to ensure your safety. Our people here, they ... dislike you, Señora."
The small crowd outside the hut stared as the American woman was escorted out of town, her face betraying the pain of being thrown nearly to her death. Some hoped she'd die before she reached the airport.
The rickety white two-seater airplane did not fill her with enthusiasm. Jennifer tried not to stare out the small thick window, but she found the land and ocean calming.
All Jennifer could think about was the lack of papers, photos, anything she could have brought back with her - if Peru would have let her. Something had gone dreadfully wrong, something bigger than a failed logging expedition. She had been sent there by Greenpeace to stop them, but the explosion solved everyone's problems - if you considered an untimely death a solution.
Lavaridge, ca. 2509
"See? That's why I don't let you tell the stories," Molly griped, yanking the paper away from Max's hands. The girl from Greenfield in Johto met Max when her father took a trip to Rustboro in Hoenn. They discovered they liked the same things and had become fast friends, even if they did argue a lot.
Max re-adjusted his glasses and snorted. "Give that back! You were just going to tell some sissy girlie story anyway."
Molly clutched the paper tightly and half-angrily pushed Max out of his seat as they sat on the steps in front of a Pokemon Center. "At least MY story wasn't going to be filled with death and explosions and blood - you're such a ... such a ... GUY"
Max stood up and grunted his disapproval. He hated being interrupted in a story. Ash and company had been investigating the mystery of some ruins containing strange languages written in raised bubbles. They had been helping the researchers in town read countless stories about ancient pokemon and Max thought they were too boring. He and Molly figured they could write a better one, which they had plenty of time to do as no one was paying them much attention anyway. Maybe, Max and Molly had thought to themselves, they could get their story published on the internet and become famous. "Look" Max muttered indignantly"you can tell your part of the story when it's your turn. Until then, if I'm forced to write about a girl, then it's going to happen MY way, got it?"
Molly frowned, shoving the papers back at Max. "Okay," she said, defeated, "but you're making up the names of places. Try to keep the real regions in your story."
Max smiled in victory. "It's my story and I'm going to tell it like I want."
The United States, ca. 2010
Jennifer had to sit for hours at customs. The American agents had little use for eco-troublemakers at such a high stakes time in their history. If they had their way, no one would travel – it just created more red-tape headaches for them. Jennifer could sense something was wrong. The agents and guards were more nervous and paranoid than usual.
DING!
Jennifer waited for the announcement on the PA system, but there wasn't one. She couldn't understand. Suddenly, the entire airport went into a panic. Visitors either ran or stood, stunned. Security teams dashed back and forth, cradling their walkie-talkies next to their ears. The walls and floors shimmered into an eerie light, and Jennifer realized in horror that it was the same sound she had heard in Peru. The walls instantly mildewed as brown leaves came flying in through the windows. Jennifer watched as everyone around her vanished in a bright white light. Air swirled around her, vines creeping up her chair. She yelped as the light took her, too.