Chapter Seven: Trapped
Darren's leg was crushed by the ceiling's debris. A large section of the floor above (perhaps a support beam of some kind; Darren couldn't tell) fell on him. The object knocked him suddenly to the ground, causing him to blackout for a brief moment. Or it at least seemed like a brief moment. Who knew how long he'd been stuck there? What seemed like a few minutes could've been a few hours. It couldn't have been any longer, since there was still a glimmer of light outside, shining through the cracks of the wall.
The man tried nudging his way out but was unsuccessful. Whatever had fallen on him was large enough to hamper his ability to move. He could slightly feel the pain in his foot, which was a good sign. But object – which Darren was certain now was a beam – had trapped his legs. He tried pulling the beam off him but again was unsuccessful. Feeling annoyed, the man grunted in frustration. It had to happen to him, he thought.
That was the thing about exploring abandon buildings. Over the hundred or so years since the bombs fell, the office towers that scatter the inner cities had gone derelict. You just didn't know what condition the building is going to be in. Quite usually Darren would find wild Pokémon looking for shelter – the creatures to scared to even approach the man. Other times he would find squatters, more than likely raiders and other scum, which would prompt the man to get away as quickly as possible. Those weren't the type of people you wanted to mess with. Darren dreaded to think what the squatters would do to him if they caught him alive. He knew raiders would organize Pokémon battles, where the creature would battle to the death. Occasionally, they would get bored of that type of entertainment, and resort to actual humans battling it out. Sometimes they would get Pokémon and humans to verse each other – a scuffle where the Pokémon usually had the upper hand. There was no way Darren was going to let anyone use him for entertainment.
Darren would scout out a place from a distance. Using his sniper, the man would search the area for any danger. A light turned on was a big giveaway that a place is dangerous, although sometimes raiders would go to great length to make their hideouts seem abandoned. The marauders would intentionally black out the windows, placing enough wooden boards to hide any light. The raiders were expecting an unaware scavenger to ponder into their den, where the marauders and their Pokémon would attack. Darren had become pretty good at spotting these traps. Using his sniper, he could inspect the windows – as much as the raider tried, they were never perfect and a bit of light always managed to find its way outside.
Pokémon were a different matter. The creatures never seemed to be bothered with the lack of light. A matter of fact, some Pokémon had developed the ability to see in the dark – sometime that always worried Darren. The best way to spot Pokémon den, however, was the smell. Pokémon would give off a certain odour. But this usually meant getting up close to a building. Darren had to always be carefully a Pokémon didn't attack him whilst outside. Luckily the man had his Dartrix to protect him. The owl-like Pokémon would hover above. If it saw something out of the ordinary, or a curious object, the flying creature would squark to get Darren's attention.
All this safety precaution was good an all, but it difficult to tell sometimes just how safe the building was. The usual reason for raiders, or Pokémon, to not hide in a building was the structure was unsound. So, it was always the risk Darren had a to take.
The man waited for his Dartrix to find him. He whistled. Darren could hear something crawling through one of the small gaps. It didn't take long for the Dartrix to find his trainer. Darren explained the creature to find help. He told his Pokémon to go to the nearby town. On a piece of paper, which he found in his pocket, the man wrote a note. He tied the small letter to the bird's leg. And with that, the Pokémon crawled its way out of the building and flew away.
Darren wondered just how long it would take for his Pokémon to find help. There was a nearby settlement, built on the remains of a bridge – colloquially known simply as Bridgetown. There was a doctor there who could help him. And he had a friend there as well – a former raider. Surely, if the knew he was danger, they would come as quickly to help. Darren damn sure hoped so.
The sun was beginning to set. Darren was beginning to lose hope. Where'd his Pokémon got to? Just as he was about to give up, a torch shine in his face. The man thought help had found him. But the other person didn't seem like a friendly type.