Magnetic Forces of Love and Conspiracy
Written by BansheeGirl
A/N: Eighth chapter? Yay! I know I left you on a bit of a cliff-hanger before… so here's the next instalment to satisfy you for a little while! As always, do enjoy – and PLEASE review once you're done! Yep… it's that easy!
Disclaimer: See chapter 1 or 2!
Magnetic Forces of Love and Conspiracy
Chapter 8: The Storm Brews
Two sleds dashed across a pristine snow-scape, each led by a pack of four growlithe. At the reins of one sled was Robert Mathison, while another man named Andrew Rahl bridled the other. They were both Pokémon researchers, and long-time residents of the small alpine town of Fieldsville. Strapped onto the front of Robert and Andrew's sleds were assortments of research equipment, plus the log books and notebook computer that the pair had used to record their findings for the day. Particularly important were the intravenous blood samples that the researchers had collected from a pack of swinub in an underground cave. The samples were a request from Nurse Joy of the town's small Pokémon Centre, which the two men generally used at their research laboratory anyway.
Robert wiped a fleck of snow from his goggles, and peered up into the sky to see a mass of ominous-looking clouds beginning to accumulate overhead. Despite being eager to return to Fieldsville before he and his friend were caught in a terrible snowstorm, he was also keen to return to the Pokémon Centre for another reason. Robert looked to Andrew who paced his growlithe a short way behind, and inwardly smiled as he wondered whether his research partner had noticed the increasing amount of time that he and the Pokémon nurse had been spending together.
As Robert averted his gaze to look back in his line of travel, his eyes suddenly caught sight of a peculiar-looking object far away to the right. He slowed his growlithe, and as Andrew acknowledged Robert's actions he too commanded his Pokémon to reduce speed.
"Robert, what's wrong?" Andrew yelled. Robert did not respond; lost as he squinted to try and discern what the object was. Andrew saw that his friend was looking at something in particular, and turned to try and understand why Robert had stopped moving. After a moment of quickly scanning, his eyes too fell upon an unusual black object perched some way up a ridge to the right. He instantly looked to the other man, and their eyes met in an expression of confusion.
"What is it?" Andrew questioned, still yelling so that he could be heard over a mounting wind.
Robert shook his head. "I'm not sure," he replied, and gathered his reins again, "But we'd better go check it out."
The two men guided their team of growlithe toward the ridge away to the right, having to carefully control their movements as they began to tread over land neither had taken a sled over before. They soon closed in on the ridge, and again slowed to a stop. Cold snow crunched under Robert's boot as he stepped off his sled, peering upward to see if he could now make out what the object in question was. Sighing, he looked to Andrew who had also disembarked from his sled.
"We're going to have to get up there by foot," Robert started, "There's no way we'll get the sleds up there."
Andrew nodded, and the men commanded their dog-Pokémon to stay put as they began to climb up the ridge. It was not so steep, though large rocks jutted up out of the uneven snow and large pine trees began to speckle the white-covered earth. It was only a short way up the small rise that the black object suddenly loomed before them, instantly appearing much bigger than they had both first assumed. As Robert and Andrew now faced it, both stopped short in their tracks as the dark figure immediately took form as something neither had expected.
"It's… a helicopter…" Andrew realised out aloud.
Robert slowly advanced on the craft. "You mean was a helicopter," he corrected, "This thing looks like it had a pretty rough landing."
The companions walked closer, looking over the mangled wreckage. It lay partly turned on its side, the complete roll halted seemingly as the crumpled nose of the helicopter had become wedged between two large pines. The top of the helicopter faced them; only one contorted rotor blade remained hanging loosely from it.
"How long has this thing been here?" Andrew wondered, again voicing his thoughts.
"It can't have been more than two or three hours," Robert said, pointing to a set of skid marks stretching all the way up a gentle slope to their right. The missing rotor blade lay twisted in the snow not far up. "That must be where the helicopter slipped down. In this weather the marks wouldn't have lasted a couple more hours."
Andrew looked to Robert, his face aghast. "You don't suppose there's anyone still in there… do you?"
Robert returned an equally unenthusiastic expression. "Well, if there is… I don't think things are going to be very pretty." He inhaled deeply, before moving around to face the underside of the helicopter. He firmly pushed down on one of the metal rails that would normally support the aircraft it were upright. The vehicle seemed stuck in a stable position, and Robert hoisted himself up to balance on the side of the helicopter. He pressed himself against the side window of the cockpit, and felt a wave of relief as he established the front compartment as being completely empty of anyone.
"The cockpit is empty," Robert yelled down to Andrew, who too indicated his relief at this discovery. The researchers didn't particularly feel like dealing with any dead bodies that afternoon.
The pair, however, were not yet asking themselves the question as to where the people who were in the helicopter had disappeared to if they were no longer in the aircraft.
Robert carefully sidled along the edge of the wreck, where he arrived at the rear cabin. The window was completely smashed here, so he was cautious not to cut his hands on the small fragments of glass that still protruded from around the frame as he pulled himself up to look inside.
Robert's eyes focused to the darkness that shrouded the interior of the cabin, before gasping loudly.
"Holy Mother of God…"
Mary looked up as the auburn-haired Sam walked into the Lodging House's kitchen. "Excellent! Another helper," she announced, quickly passing him a vegetable peeler before he could protest. "Peel those potatoes over there, and then you can start on the carrots."
Sam sighed exasperatedly, but upon receiving a reproachful look from Mary he grudgingly took a seat at the kitchen table to begin his work. Picking up a potato, Sam peered around at the other people bustling about the room. Olivia was stirring something in a large pot on the stove. Cate was cutting up some meat, and Ian was washing the dishes. Even Cate's two children – David and Laura – were helping by drying Ian's dishes with a couple of tea-towels.
It appeared that Sam wasn't the only one who had been lured into Mary's dinner-time trap.
"Where's James?" Sam questioned, as he suddenly realised his friend's absence.
"He went out a little while ago," Olivia replied, quickly stealing a taste of the substance that was simmering in her pot. "Apparently the paperwork from The Saunders City Times arrived at his office… Anyway, he needed to get it completed and faxed off before tomorrow."
"Or before this storm cuts out our telephone lines," Ian added in his coarse voice.
Sam looked out of the small kitchen window, noting Ian's words. It did not yet look as though a serious storm would pass through the mountains, yet he had learnt to go by Ian's weather predictions. After living for so long in Fieldsville, the old man had almost become a walking barometer for the place.
Focusing back on his vegetable-peeling, Sam silently laughed. He himself had contacted The Saunders City Times – the city's largest newspaper – that very morning to request the paperwork to file a feature story concerning Paramount Corps.' plan. He knew that the Times was very prompt in responding to such requests, and that the paperwork had probably been sitting in James' office for most of the day. Of course it was a very convenient of the councilman to have chosen to make the trip there precisely when dinner preparation began. Sam made a mental-note to make sure that James received washing-up duty when dinner had finished.
The sound of the doorbell ringing suddenly reverberated throughout the house.
"I'll get it!" Sam said, jumping up hastily – obviously eager for any excuse to get out of peeling vegetables.
He made his way out of the kitchen and into the lower-storey passage, which eventually merged into an entrance hall. He contemplated hugging whoever was at the door for the sheer reason that he or she had given him reason to escape the kitchen. Yet when Sam finally opened the front door any notion of hugging the person in front of him abandoned his mind very quickly.
Before Sam stood Robert Mathison and Andrew Rahl – the Pokémon researchers from the Fieldsville Pokémon Centre. And lying in Robert's arms was an awfully battered, unconscious woman.
Okay… so that chapter probably didn't answer as many questions as you would have liked! But don't worry! Everything will come in its own good time!
Unfortunately I return to school from two weeks' holidays this week… meaning that I probably will not be able to continue to produce these hideously fast updates (for me, anyway!)! I am sorry! But do not fear, I shall try and get another chapter out relatively soon… hey, it's not my fault! Blame my slave-driving teachers!
Well, thanks again to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. It's nice to see that I've got quite a few regular reviewers… but it'd still be good to see some new people on the reviewing scene! I'd really appreciate it! Thanks!
Well… Till Next Time!
BansheeGirl.