I would like to thank everyone for their support of the story thus far. Here is the next chapter.
The chapter coming out on Friday will be released later in the day than these last few have been, reason being that I have an exam that morning and don't want to spend precious last-minute study time looking at my view counter. Especially since this story is almost at 1K right now.
Enjoy!
BRYANT FOREST, 18
The first thing I did upon arriving back at the church was to enter the basement. My entire body felt as though it were melting, and the heat had caused me to become somewhat nauseous.
Man, maybe attending that protest was a mistake, I thought bitterly.
I shook my head; I couldn't think like that. It had been for a good cause, at least, which had to count for something.
But what did I really accomplish out there? We marched down Pennsylvania Avenue to a police precinct, and I got to see them arrest Freya Speech. That's not exactly a bucket list item.
Even putting aside that memory, something else bothered me as well. More specifically, the way Hannah had been able to tell that I was autistic. Truth be told, I'd never thought it was very obvious.
As I sat in the basement, looking over the white walls, which were so bright they almost hurt to look at, I saw a green shape come in front of me.
"Who are you?" I asked.
There was a gasping sound. "You don't recognize me? Man, you must really be dehydrated from that march; I'll get you some water right away!"
It was bad enough that I was a Glaceon; now I had to sit there as the green shape got me some water. I was utterly helpless in that regard; I'd probably feel woozy if I sat up again.
The next humiliation, however, was far worse.
The green Pokémon returned, carrying a silver bowl like the one Alana used to eat out of. Beyond the painful reminder this produced, it was also demeaning to see a bowl placed in front of me, because…
"Okay, drink up," the green Pokémon ordered me.
I leaned over and began lapping up the liquid. It felt so wrong, even more than one might imagine, to be drinking out of a bowl just like a pet.
Come on, Bryant. Alana put up with it her whole life, so you can do it too until things get back to normal.
Regardless, my thirsty body demanded water, so down the hatch it went. By the time I had finished the bowl, my vision started to clear, and I saw that the green Pokémon was the Gardevoir lady from earlier.
"Feeling better?" she asked me, to which I nodded.
"Very well," Gardevoir replied. "Next time, make sure you bring plenty of water with you when you're marching through the streets."
I rolled my eyes. "How am I supposed to carry it without any hands?"
"You've got me there. I guess you could make sure you have a handler, but we can go through it later. I'm just glad you got back okay - I heard the news from downtown, and it isn't good."
"I know", I replied. "I saw it with my own eyes. Freya Speech got arrested."
"You know her?"
"Yep. Frank was a good friend of mine from the neighborhood. He seemed to understand me well, in a way few others can."
"Uh-huh" Gardevoir responded, though she thankfully didn't press me any further on this.
"Indeed. And I take it he's still in the hospital, Frank is?"
"As far as I know, that's true. Really, it's a wonder you aren't there right now, though the authorities obviously don't know who in the crowd was once a human. Still, you really pushed your luck today."
"I'm sorry" I said in an exaggerated tone, rather annoyed at being spoken to like a child who had to be scolded.
"Apology accepted. Now, I think you should have some lunch. You haven't eaten anything in over a day, and Pokémon burn more calories than humans."
After Gardevoir returned upstairs to get me something to eat, an Infernape entered the room, whom I recognized as Hannah.
Hannah gave me an odd expression, one I couldn't place. "I don't know whether I should be proud of you or very disappointed," she told me.
I shrugged. "Does it matter? You're not my mother."
"Still, you stayed in the middle of the group for protection, and ran away at the first sign of trouble. They didn't even use tear gas on us!"
"Sorry about that. I'm new to this whole protest thing."
"Indeed you are. So where are you going to go after this, once things settle down?"
I frowned. "That's a bit of a personal question." I found it odd that she was so curious about me, less than a week after our disastrous meal together.
"Well, I've still got Coronet University lined up unless something goes terribly wrong. Although I'm not sure how I'll attend it as an Infernape."
"We could trade colleges," I replied, only half joking. "This climate isn't exactly ideal for a Glaceon."
"You know, that wouldn't be such a bad idea," she said. "Of course, who knows if they'll even let us be part of ordinary society again. Look what's happening to Mr. Speech."
My stomach dropped then, as though I were on a roller coaster. "Hannah, do you think they're going to lock us all up? Can they even do that?"
Hannah shook her head. "They can't do that to all of us. But yeah, I'm definitely concerned that something might happen."
She left it at that; it seemed that she didn't know what to say next, and neither did I. Instead, we just sat there until my parents descended the steps into the basement.
My mother looked mostly relieved to see me alive and well (or rather, as "well" as I could have been under these circumstances), whereas my father was wild-eyed, probably rather angry. I sighed, knowing that I was in for a lecture.
"Bryant, we're very glad you're okay, but please, the next time you attend a protest that could turn violent, let us know first!" That was my father talking.
"As relieved as I am, your father has a point" my mother told me. "Any demonstration, no matter how peaceful it's intended to be, can turn deadly without much warning."
I wanted to say something, anything, to defuse the argument. To make my parents understand my point of view - except that I didn't really know what my point of view was.
Yes, I had wanted to attend the march. But I also felt as though Hannah had talked me into it. She wasn't wholly responsible, but that could be a mitigating factor. Of course, I didn't want to throw her under the bus.
But when I tried to speak English, the only language my parents could understand, all that came out of me was "Glaceon! Glaceon!"
"You can talk, can't you?," my father scolded me. "I hope we don't have to do speech therapy again; I thought we were done with that!"
I shook my head. Not being able to talk to my parents was probably the most frustrating part of being a Pokémon, perhaps even worse than the heat outside. Nonverbal communication had been something I'd always struggled with, but it was made even harder now.
"Maybe he can't talk at all," my mother said, glaring at my father. "Or he can only speak the Pokémon language."
My dad frowned. "The Gardevoir lady can communicate with us in English. Why can't Bryant?"
"Maybe you could stop chewing him out for something he can't control, and instead try to help him through this. Be understanding, because that's what a father is supposed to do!"
Why don't both of you stop arguing?
I wanted to scream that sentence from the rooftops, but I knew that if I tried, I would only end up shouting my species name. It wasn't going to work.
As bad as it was not to have words now, it would be even worse if something truly urgent happened. This time hadn't come yet, but I had a nasty feeling that it was inevitable.
The next few days were interesting, but not in a good way.
I spent most of my time in the basement, analyzing the colors of the walls and wondering what hex code they were. Occasionally the Gardevoir lady would come down and check on me, often bringing me food or water.
During this time, I tried to use my muscles at least somewhat. If I just laid down and waited for time to pass, I would only grow more sluggish and stiff.
My "exercise" only consisted of a few laps around the basement every hour or two, but it was something. Even without anything too vigorous, I still felt hungrier than I had before; Gardevoir was right about my faster metabolism, not that I'd had any reason to doubt her on that.
Every so often, Gardevoir would call us up to the sanctuary, where she'd give an announcement about what was happening outside the slums. It was a little taste of the outside world, a reminder that life was more than just a homeless shelter inside a Church of Arceus diocese.
It was not good news.
She would talk about how Freya Speech was being held in jail as the legal authorities deliberated on what they'd charge her with. She discussed how her husband was still in the hospital, undergoing all sorts of tests to see what had caused his transformation.
"They'll get him back to normal, and they'll find out a way to get the transformed among us back to normal as well" Gardevoir promised. She didn't sound confident, though.
Additionally, as I looked around the sanctuary, I thought I saw a few more Pokémon. This could have just been me, though.
The news seemed to go from bad to worse, but one afternoon, it went from "terrible" to "completely horrific."
It was the third or fourth day after the march; honestly, I didn't care to keep track anymore. All I knew was that I was bored out of my mind, and I wanted to be delivered from this predicament any way possible.
Of course, the most important lesson in life is to be careful what you wish for.
When we arrived in the sanctuary for Gardevoir's update, I sat next to my parents. If the "transformation virus" was contagious, it would surely already be incubating within them, so there was no need to self-isolate. That was my belief, anyway.
Gardevoir rarely looked happy when delivering an update, but today she appeared even more distraught than usual. Her mouth was quivering, as though she were on the edge of tears.
"I've got news", she said after a long pause, "and I'm afraid you're not going to like it."
Every bit of my fur stood on end. Even by the standards of the last week, there had to be a reason Gardevoir spoke this way. What was wrong?
"There's no reason for me to beat around the bush, as it were," the Psychic type told us. "I can tell that you're all worried. Believe me, I am too. I wish I could say that there's nothing to fear, and that this news isn't that catastrophic, but I'm afraid I can't."
The sanctuary was quiet as Gardevoir picked up a piece of paper from the lectern. Like a pastor delivering a sermon from the Book of Arceus, she spoke with authority, while also trying to be reassuring.
"The municipal government of Moraga City sent out an announcement this morning. All of the individuals who have transformed into Pokémon are to be quarantined on Kanora Island, roughly twenty miles offshore from the city."
Quarantined. How long does a quarantine last?
And then my heart pounded, thumping hard against my ribcage as though it threatened to burst out of my thorax. They were going to take us to an island, and isolate us from the rest of society.
"The government is going to send in vans to transport the transformers to the Port of Moraga, where they will be shipped off to the island. This is likely to happen tonight.
"Now, I'm going to do my best to prevent this plan from happening. Just because the city is going through a turbulent time, that doesn't give the government the right to encroach on our freedoms like that. As such, I expect all of the transformers to remain in the basement until further notice; that is the safest place for them to hide."
Even before I fully processed what Gardevoir was telling us, I took offense to being referred to as a "transformer." To me, that word implied that I'd become a Glaceon on purpose, that I'd wanted this.
"I want to make one thing very clear", the Gardevoir lady all but bellowed, "we will not comply. Just in case they show up, I command all of the former humans who have become Pokémon to head to the basement right now."
I felt no reaction at all to this command; after all, the basement is where I'd spent most of the last few days. Of course I was going to head back there.
This time, however, the basement was hardly a calm refuge from the chaos of the sanctuary. There were ten or so other Pokémon in the room besides myself and Hannah, and the windows were shut. This made the basement just as hot as the chamber above.
"So what do we do now?" a Phanpy asked tearfully, leaning against Hannah.
The Infernape turned to the Phanpy. "We stay here until the danger has passed," Hannah told the other girl. "Once it's safe to go outside, we'll know."
"That might be a while," I blurted out. "We don't know when they'll come."
Hannah glared at me. "Bryant, can you please try to be cheerful? I'm trying to comfort Amanda here."
The Phanpy, whose name was evidently Amanda, frowned. "I just want to go home! But we don't have a home anymore, so this will have to do."
"Couldn't your parents find a new home?" I asked Amanda. "I'm pretty sure the government is going to help with that."
Hannah frowned again. "That's pretty tactless, considering that the government wants to hunt us all down. They aren't exactly our friends right now."
I facepawed. "You're right; I should not have said that. Anyway…".
Hannah and Amanda kept talking; I couldn't have told you what they were discussing. What I did know was that, the more time went by, the less I wanted to be stuck in this church basement, waiting for capture.
It was then that an idea popped into my head, springing up like a mushroom. Whether it would be a delicious, edible mushroom or a toxic one was still to be determined.
I could run away from here. Maybe I could head to Zachary's place, assuming he'd be willing to have me. Assuming I can even find it.
That plan (or rather, idea) still had plenty of holes in it. But as far as I was concerned, it would be better than resigning myself to days, perhaps weeks, in this one room. Better than giving up.
I leaned over to Hannah and whispered the following four words into her ear: "I can't stay here."
The Infernape frowned at me. "You're going to leave?"
I nodded. "I don't see any other choice. It's better to go down swinging than let the third strike zoom over home plate."
"You must be crazy, Bryant," she replied. "The government might consider you a fugitive, in which case they'll spare no expense to find you. And they'll only treat you worse when they do find you!"
Glaring at Hannah, I replied with, "What choice do I have? I don't want to just give up like that and be sent to Kanora Island!"
By now the other Pokémon in the room had turned their eyes to us; they were watching our argument as though it were a form of entertainment. Perhaps it was; I can't speak for them.
"Well, I can't make you do anything," Hannah responded. "I can only give you advice. And I'm telling you, I think it's a bad idea for you to run away. Where will you go?"
"My brother's place. He'll put me up, and he'll be willing to hide me away from the government."
Truth be told, I said those words less to convince Hannah, and more to reassure myself that Zachary would be willing to harbor me. But I had to believe that Zachary would do the brotherly thing, because otherwise, there truly was no hope for me.
"I still think you're a bit stupid, Bryant. But I'm not going to stop you if you really want to leave."
"Are you sure about that?"
Hannah's eyes widened. "Of course I am! You've got your own autonomy, and you can do whatever you want."
Hours later, the lights in the basement were turned off, and we were evidently meant to go to sleep. Of course, it's not like we needed much energy for the next day.
I felt mild indignation at being treated like a child here; the Gardevoir lady talked to us as though we were kids who needed to be put to bed at a certain time. But it was just like Hannah said: She couldn't control our actions.
About twenty minutes after the snoring started, pretty much the whole room was asleep. That is, except for one Pokémon.
That Pokémon was me. Bearing the news from that morning in mind, I felt a greater sense of urgency to escape the Zoness district. It would be easier to travel by night, thanks to both the cooler temperatures and the lower risk of being spotted. So it's no wonder I stayed awake that night.
Hannah, who'd been right next to me, was clearly asleep. Her chest rose and fell slowly, evenly. I stood up and began tiptoeing towards the door to the outside world.
Oh, snap, I thought once I reached the door. No human thinks of opening a door as being a difficult task, but when you have four paws rather than two hands, it can be some pretty fur-pulling stuff.
Taking a deep breath, I leaped upward and grabbed the lever. Somehow, it worked on the first try!
Well, that's a relief. I wish it would have made a bit less noise, though.
Opening the door, I made my way outside.
I was immediately hit by the humid night air. The temperatures were cooler, yes, but they were still very warm, especially for an Ice type. I would have to pace myself, and that wouldn't be easy when I was running from the law.
The physical manifestation of "the law" showed up a minute or two later.
A vehicle's headlights illuminated the path ahead, and sirens were blaring. I felt sick to my stomach.
If only I'd left a few minutes earlier! Sure, they might have tried to stop me, but who's to say it would have worked?
Fortunately, the Zoness district's shacks were numerous. They gave me ample cover to hide from the cop car, and I ran to my right, ducking behind one of the pitiful homes.
The sirens kept sounding, getting closer and closer. If the driver of the police car had seen me, I was dead meat.
My breathing quickened with every second. The noise was louder and louder, wreaking havoc on my eardrums. I couldn't even cover my ears like I would have been able to as a human.
The seconds ticked by at a snail's pace. How long until they found me, or kept moving until they reached the church?
If I don't do something, I'm condemning everyone in that building, or at least all the transformers, to being caught by the authorities and sent to the island. But it's something I have to do if I want to stay free.
Staying in hiding felt like throwing away a favored piece of jewelry. It was like looking at Alana, my best friend, and spitting in her face. (To be fair, I had pretty much already done that the night of the storm.)
But I remained rooted to the spot, my ears in so much pain that I could barely stand it. It was only once the sounds of the sirens got somewhat more distant that I allowed myself to breathe properly again.
And then, I ran.
I stepped as gingerly as possible on the dirt, trying to make as little noise as I could. Like a Butterfree with sore feet, I jogged past the hovels on either side of the road until I passed the gate to the outside world.
After that, I picked up the pace. Although I was shorter than I'd been as a human, I could still run pretty quickly when I needed to. And I certainly needed to now.
Moraga City had started coming to life after the storm. Despite the late hour, a decent number of cars and motorcycles were on the road; their engines and horns provided some cover. Rarely in my life had I ever been grateful for the sounds of traffic, but I suppose there's a first time for everything.
It didn't take long, however, for me to realize that there was a gaping hole in my plan.
While I knew the city decently well, it would be hard to find my brother's specific apartment building. I'd visited it enough times that I'd know it when I saw it, but I could not remember the address.
I know roughly what part of the city he lives in. I can head in that general direction.
Of course, everything was more difficult at night. A Pokémon had better night vision than a human, but it still wasn't perfect. Additionally, growing up in one of the rougher cities in Alola, I'd heard the old adage "Nothing good happens after midnight" many times before.
There were still a few people on the sidewalks, to whom I gave a wide berth. They did not need to know what I was running from, let alone who I was.
After a while, I was dripping in sweat from the exertion. My heart was working overtime, since I couldn't stop thinking about the prospect of being caught.
I have to take some of the back roads, I thought. It might be scarier, and there might be fewer lights there, but I'm less likely to get caught.
Still, I was hesitant. If nothing good happened after midnight in the city at large, nothing short of catastrophic happened after midnight in the back roads. If my parents knew where I was going, they would have called me downright suicidal.
This isn't exactly a clean part of town either. Maybe I'll end up stepping on a discarded needle, in which case I'd have to go to the hospital, I guess. But if I go to the hospital, they'll eventually put two and two together and know who I am. And then I'll be shipped off to Kanora Island.
I shook my head. That was the least of my worries right now.
Contemplating the task ahead wouldn't make it any easier, nor the neighborhood any safer. At the next intersection, I took a right turn to enter the Darkstar sector of Moraga City.
The city as a whole wasn't flashy at all, but there was a marked difference once I entered this part of town. The streets were a lot more gravelly, and a slurry of dirty water covered large parts of the ground. It took great care not to slip and fall.
Additionally, dumpsters were almost everywhere. They were full of discarded Pokeballs, discarded clothing, and other things you don't want to know about. The walls, too, were cracked in several spots, and many windows were broken.
All in all, this was the kind of place I considered my own personal hell. Perhaps purgatory would be a better analogy; after all, on the other side, if I survived, was Zachary's apartment. I would hopefully be safe there.
I couldn't be as fast on these streets, since I was worried about slipping and falling into a pile of sewage. That being said, I very much wanted to be out of here as soon as possible.
I wish you were here, Alana. I really do.
You're still worried about that, Bryant? It's time to move on. She would not want you to fail yourself by dwelling on what you could have done differently.
I knew that part of my brain was right, even if I didn't want to admit it. Truth be told, I had plenty of other things to worry about.
The alleyway was one of them. There were many forks in the road in the Darkstar district, and with any of them, there was the potential for someone to jump out and mug me. It didn't matter that I had no wallet; they'd just skin me alive and use my fur coat as a blanket.
My determination to keep moving was such that I didn't stop to rest until I absolutely needed to. When this happened, I found a place to hide behind a dumpster.
The stench was rancid, and being a Pokémon made it worse, but it was a lot better than being out in the open. Even as I was trying to catch my breath, I had to draw shallow breaths in order to not feel like I was eating literal trash.
Okay…so let's recap this past week.
I finally got a date with someone; it turned out to be Hannah Izola. The date went about as well as you'd expect when one of the people involved has…special interests, you could say.
And then the storm came. I lost Alana…we fled to a church in the slums…and then I became a Glaceon. And I'm being hunted; for some reason, they decided to take all the transformers to a deserted island. Except maybe it's not actually deserted.
I was so thoroughly lost in my own thoughts that I didn't notice the footsteps sneaking up behind me. Not until it was too late.
"What are you doing there, Glaceon?" a sneering male voice asked me.
My heart skipped several beats. Even if I'd wanted to respond, I wouldn't be able to; this voice sounded like a human's.
"Well, not to worry" the voice told me in a rather soft tone. "We're not going to harm you at all; you'll just sleep for a little bit, and when you wake up, you'll be in a better place."
Is he threatening me?
Suddenly, I was pinned to the ground by strong arms, and something was placed over my nose and mouth. It became harder to breathe, not surprising, as I caught a sniff of something on the rag. But what was it?
Given that I lost consciousness seconds later, I wouldn't be getting answers anytime soon.
