Chapter 1: Healing

The gunshots were heard from all directions, miles away. No one could escape hearing its noise. After the bombs fell, destroying everything in their path, it made it easier for loud sounds to travel. It certainly made it difficult to hide. Whilst the cover of trees could muffle the sudden blast, out in the open it wasn't a luxury people had.

The lone Pokémon trainer hurried towards the old Pokémon centre, making sure to dodge any incoming bullets. Keeping the hood over his head, the young man tried his best to obscure his face in the darkness. In times like this, it was best to keep a low profile. Even if he rarely travelled to settlements, it was better not to have his face recognised, especially treading around raider territory. The last thing he wanted was to be mistaken for a fiend–chem-addicted one at that.

Although the giant Pokéball on top of the centre would usually in the past be glowing brightly, signifying that aid was nearby, the generator had stopped working. Only the occasional glimmer of light burst from it - the last of the power trying to keep the thing going. The young man hoped that didn't mean the healing machine wasn't working. He wasn't keen on fixing anything at this moment. His ability to work with electrics was abysmal, to begin with. And being in a rush didn't help.

The trainer entered the building. Knowing it was somewhat safe, the young man removed his hood revealing his face. His brownish long hair swayed as he moved. He probably should get it cut, but he was a bit lazy when it came to stuff like hair care. The young man leapt across the front desk, finding the healing machine had a cloth placed over the top of it. Removing the cloth, he tried turning the machine one. Just as he thought! The generator wasn't working. There was probably enough energy to allow the sign outside flicker now and then. He had to find another way to heal his injured Pokémon. He looked over at the store counter. There must be something there, a potion or two maybe. It would be enough to heal his Pokémon, he was certain of it.

As he searched, a ruckus could be heard outside. More gunshots. Just what he needed…

"Kid! We know you're in there!" the voice boomed from outside. It was the same raiders he'd encountered before. Damn! Did they follow him? Fiends were ever so persistent, he found. "You've stolen something from us! And we want it back!"

He thought about yelling something witty, maybe to distract the raiders outside. There was no point, however. Calling out to them would only confirm his presence. If he had any chance of getting out alive, he needn't draw their attention.

The young man had found a medication – the last pack of potions. It was time to ditch the place. He tried remembering the layout of the last Pokémon Centre he'd visited. They usually had a back entrance, he recollected, for employers. There was usually a staff room outback. That's where he'll find the exit.

Entering the room, the young man hopped to the exit. But to his dismay, the roof had caved in making it impossible to even reach the entrance. Maybe if he could climb atop the hole that had been created in the roof. The debris was stacked in a way it could easily be used as a set of stairs. He just needed a distraction; something to catch the raiders off guard.

He searched his backpack. He was out of bullets, so a gunfight was not an option. The only thing he had left was the three Pokémon he'd brought along; one he was rather quite attached to, the second which had 'retrieved' from the raiders, and a third freshly caught the day before. In the wasteland, it was a good idea to keep a good stockpile of spares. A Rattata, the young man was certainly not going to miss it. As painful as it was to send a Pokémon out to slaughter, he had no choice. Holding tight the Pokéball, he called out the Pokémon. The rat-like creature appeared timid, scared of its trainer. He remembered catching it the day earlier. He'd spotted the thing at an abandoned train station. It was a spare-of-the-moment thing.

"I know you're not going to like this," he began giving instructions to the Pokémon, "but there's something I need you to do."

The Pokémon gnawed before chirping.

"I need you to charge at the men out there," he explained. "Bite one of them. That should do the trick."

At first, the Pokémon refused to move. The young man picked the Pokémon up, however, and moved it towards the entranceway. He nudged the Rattata along. The Pokémon was unwilling to move at first. But it quickly got the message.

Knowing it had no choice, the Pokémon made its way outside. The Rattata briskly sprinted to the raider. The man probably wasn't expecting a small creature to attack him like that. The Rattata gave an almighty crunched as he bit the man's leg, causing the men to panic. With a yell of pain, the man wildly shot in the air, not knowing which direction the Pokémon had attacked. The Rattata retreated, hiding behind a large rock.

"Damn thing bit me!" the man yelled. "You're going to pay for that! Mightyena… do your thing."

Out of the man's Pokéball, a rather large dog-like creature appeared. The thing looked left and right, scanning the area. Using its enhanced smell, the Mightyena knew exactly where the other Pokémon was hiding. The Rattata could sense the Mightyena approaching. Reverting to its base instinct, the Pokémon began to flee, hoping it could outrun its attacker. Unfortunately for the Pokémon, the raider had trained his Mightyena to be a peak runner. The Rattata barely made it a few hundred feet before being caught up by the mighty dog-like Pokémon. The Mightyena leapt upon the Rattata, tackling it to the ground. With one forceful swipe, the Mightyena gouge a large cut into the Rattata, killing it outright.

While the man was busy taking care of the Rattata, the young man managed to climb to the wall. He carefully made his way across the room, finding a dumpster he could jump into. Breaking his fall, he quickly got to the ground. He decided not to run and instead sneaked his way through the back streets. Much to his luck, the raider didn't find him out.