Thank you all for your support. I have finished my exam, meaning I only have to turn in my final paper and I'm done with the semester!
Here's the chapter. I would greatly appreciate reviews so that I know what you guys are thinking of it. Even just a little smiley face helps. Enjoy!
BRYANT FOREST, 18
I don't know how long I was under for. To some extent, I may have been floating in and out of consciousness, eyes fluttering open occasionally for a brief moment, then closing again after realizing that nothing made sense.
If I did have any dreams, I didn't end up remembering them. All I know is that, after what felt like a very long time, my mind came back online.
Okay…oh my Arceus, my aching head!
My forehead felt as though someone were repeatedly stabbing it with a miniature ax. Every time I tried to open my eyes, that only made the pain worse, so I kept them closed for the most part.
In the back of my mind, I think I knew even then that the situation wasn't good. If forced to admit it, I would have acknowledged that I'd found myself in quite a tough spot. But I didn't want to accept it.
And so, as the haze of unconsciousness lifted, I decided to pretend.
Maybe I was back at home in Fairview. Perhaps, once I awoke fully, I would find myself in my comfortable bedroom, and Alana would be there to comfort me. She'd let me know that it had all been a nightmare, and we probably would have cuddled on the floor for several minutes.
Failing that, I could at least imagine that I'd ended up at Zachary's apartment somehow. Perhaps my elder brother had been the one to find me behind the dumpster, and he'd taken me here for my own safety.
If that's the case, why did he have to knock me out with chloroform? Doesn't he trust me?
That's when I allowed the illusion to shatter. Really, it had never existed at all, but young children aren't the only people who like to play pretend sometimes.
Eventually the headache subsided, so I was able to get a peek at my surroundings. And they weren't glamorous.
I was lying in a heap on my stomach, situated on a small, rather tattered old blanket. Exactly why the blanket was beneath my body rather than on top of it, I didn't know.
The room was pretty small, roughly the size of a single dorm that you'd find on a college campus. The main difference was that there were no personal touches to make it look as though someone had ever lived there; rather, the walls were simply coated in grime.
Perhaps the worst part about my situation was the oppressive heat. The room had no windows, nowhere for air to be recycled, so it was almost like an oven. Even lying down was enough to exhaust me.
Okay. So where am I?
That was the next question, and it wasn't an easy one. My tiny room, as stated above, had no visible connection to the outside world besides a door that had clearly seen better days. The whole room reeked of refuse.
On second thought, there's one thing I do know. This isn't one of the nicer parts of Moraga City.
A few minutes passed, during which I summoned the strength to get to my feet. However, there really was nothing to do in this room. There wasn't even a Book of Arceus, not that I had any desire to pray.
And then the door opened. I held my breath, waiting to find out the identity of my captor. Who would I need to resist?
In walked a four-legged creature with black and brown fur, as well as horns. A Houndoom. His eyes bore right into me, as though he were thinking about how nice I would taste as fresh meat.
"Good morning, Glaceon," the Houndoom told me. "How did you sleep?"
"Not very well" I snarled.
Houndoom snorted. "I'm not too sure about that! You were out like a light the moment we got the rag over you. But you're safe now, which is what matters."
I raised an eyebrow. "I'm safe? Arceus, I never thought I'd ever meet anyone with as much nerve as you!"
"Trust me, Glaceon, you are safer here than you are out there. We will offer you protection, and all we ask is that you do as we say. Because if you don't…well, I don't think you want to know what happens."
"Don't threaten me! Or else I'll call the cops!" I yelled.
Houndoom laughed. "Oh, now that's a good one!" He kept giggling maniacally until it seemed he couldn't breathe well anymore; then, he calmed down.
"In all seriousness", he continued, "I know that's an empty threat. And you wanna know how? Because by calling the police, you'd be turning yourself in. And you don't want that, do you?"
I shook my head. "I didn't commit a crime, though. You're the criminals here, you're the ones who kidnapped me!"
"Ah, but you're missing something important here," the Houndoom replied. "Just because something's illegal doesn't mean it's wrong. And it goes the other way as well. If the government told you to slaughter your neighbors, would you do it?"
"No," I said. "But…".
"There you go. Not everything the government says has to be treated as gospel. Especially in your case, considering you're on the run."
I couldn't help but be stunned by that. How would this Houndoom know that I was on the run?
"How do you…".
"Quite frankly, you're pretty much an open book. I didn't force the truth out of you while you were unconscious, but I didn't need to. I mean, why would a Glaceon like you be in this neighborhood if you weren't so desperate?"
I couldn't argue with him there; he had a point.
"I still don't get it…who are you?"
In response, the Houndoom grabbed a small object from a desk, the only piece of furniture in the room. He clicked a button, and it morphed into an incredibly sharp knife, roughly six inches long.
"You're someone who wields a knife, I guess" I muttered. "That's quite helpful."
"Indeed I am. Perhaps that's all I am, but if you don't show me some respect, you won't know the truth."
The Houndoom grabbed the knife and held it high in the air. He looked ready to stab me if that's what it took.
"Please state your name and purpose" the Houndoom told me. "If not, you'll meet the knife, and then you'll meet your maker not long after."
I considered lying. I really did. But I'd never seen a knife this sharp; even the steak knives we'd had in Fairview were nothing compared to this one. It would slice my flesh into ribbons if given the opportunity.
So I bit the bullet and told the truth.
"I'm Bryant Forest, eighteen years old. I lived in the Fairview district until the storm hit last week. And then we had to flee, so we lived in a church sanctuary until last night."
The Houndoom frowned. "Were you a human when you lived in Fairview? Or were you a Pokémon?"
"Human" I replied, not having the courage to say anything else. "I was a human, but I became a Glaceon the other day. And I'm not the only one."
"Of course you're not the only one," the Houndoom said. "How do you think I'm a Pokémon?"
I gasped. "You've always been one, I guess?" I knew I was wrong; perhaps I was just looking to inject some levity into this exchange. But it didn't work.
In response, the Houndoom lowered the knife until the flat part of it sat against my fur. He was drooling, as though he couldn't wait to see how my flesh tasted.
"That is incorrect!" he exclaimed. "I've only been a Houndoom for about a week, because the storm turned me into one!"
"How do you know it was the storm?" In the back of my mind, I still refused to believe this was really happening. It had to be a particularly vivid dream, as with everything else in the past week.
Houndoom shrugged, dropping the knife. His eyes widened as he just managed to avoid getting stabbed in the foot.
"Well, the storm happened. It had an unprecedented strength to it, leveling an entire region of the city. And a day later, boom, I'm a Pokémon. It can't be a coincidence, can it?"
"Uh, maybe it can be," I replied. "The chances of a storm happening at that intensity is roughly…".
"Shut the hell up! I don't need mathematics right now, I need your help!"
I raised an eyebrow. "What do you need my help with? Quite frankly, I'm not about to trust someone who just kidnapped me! Why should I?"
"Because you don't have a choice?"
"Fair enough" I spat, knowing I was playing with fire here. "But I need to know what I'm helping with. If it's just gang warfare, I'm not built for that shit."
The Houndoom chuckled. "Don't worry, there won't be any of that. At least, not at first. But if you need to take part in that, you'll get all the training you need, trust me."
"Fine. So who are you?"
Houndoom smiled. "Ah, names. They can be very powerful indeed, but also very dangerous. I'm not sure I should give you mine."
I curled the right side of my mouth. "That doesn't matter. I gave you my name, so it's only fair that you give me yours."
"Okay then" the Houndoom replied. "It's nice to meet you, Bryant. You can call me Omar."
"Omar" I said, trying the name out on my lips.
"Yes. Now, I think you'd like to know where you are, as well as why you're here. Do I read you correctly?"
"I suppose so. But cut to the chase: What's going on?"
Omar sighed. "Well, you've been fairly cooperative so far, so I'll tell you. Basically, ever since the city devolved into chaos, I've decided that I needed allies in this mad world. We needed to…stick together, as some would say…in order to ensure strength in numbers."
I frowned. "I'm afraid I don't follow you."
"Well, everything is harder when you're a Pokémon. In a way, this is just like a labor union; we are a transformers' union, for lack of a better word, even though this isn't a job."
I snorted. "It sure feels like one."
Omar didn't comment on that. "The point is, society has become too individualized. We need collective responsibility, or we're going to get nowhere. Don't you want to find a way out of this mess?"
"Yes, but…".
"There are no buts, Bryant. It's my way or the highway, and the highway ain't got shit. So please, if you value your life, or the lives of the other transformers, you should do as I say."
Something just didn't sit right with me. Here Omar was, talking about collective responsibility, but then claiming that his way was the only way to salvation. In that regard, he sounded a lot like a cult leader.
But Omar didn't need to do any more talking. The knife on the table did plenty of talking.
"Still, I have a few questions," I said. "Just a few, that's all."
The Houndoom narrowed his eyes. "Like what?"
"First of all, I'd like to know where I am. I know I'm in the Darkstar sector of Moraga City; at least, that's where I was."
"You're still in that sector" Omar replied. "We couldn't drag you very far; you might be a Glaceon, but Pokémon are still heavier than they look."
"Okay. Next question: What do you people expect me to do once I'm here?"
Even as I asked that question, I feared that Omar would be unwilling to answer it. Worse yet, he might get angry with me for enquiring, and I did not like the look of that knife.
The Houndoom scratched his chin. "Well, that's not exactly something I can tell you right now. Not everything has an easy answer, you know."
"I know," I replied. "But I've been honest with you thus far, so why can't you be honest with me?"
Omar grunted. "Well, I'll tell you a bit more. But I can't tell you everything."
"Fine. Spill."
"Well, I'm Omar the Houndoom; my real name is Omar Salinas, but it's not like my last name matters much to you. I'm the leader of an organization called the Nightfall."
"The Nightfall" I echoed, hearing just how ominous that title sounded.
"Yes. We could have called ourselves the Coalition to Stop This Madness, but it wouldn't fit on a T-shirt. Not that we have T-shirts right now, but you get the idea."
I nodded. "I…get the idea."
"We'll have T-shirts eventually" Omar promised. "And they'll be the type a quadruped can wear. But if that doesn't entice you enough, I have another promise, and I think this one takes the cake."
"Yes?" I asked. "I'm all ears."
"No, you're not. You only have two ears, and they're pretty small."
I managed not to roll my eyes. "Okay. So what's the deal?"
"Well, the government has shunned you. Not you specifically, of course; they've shunned all the former humans who became Pokémon. But when you look at what they've done to us all, it's hard not to want revenge, isn't it?"
As hard as I found it to trust Omar, it was even harder to disagree with this. I nodded once more.
"That's what I offer you. You have a chance to seek revenge against those who have wronged you so immensely; you can either take it or leave it. If you accept my offer, then you may remain in this room until it's time for breakfast."
I frowned. "And if I decline your offer?"
Omar's face fell a bit; then, he perked up and looked at the knife.
"If you decline my offer, you are free to walk out that door and go on with your life. I can't stop you from doing that."
Something told me that if I didn't accept Omar's "offer" (read: ultimatum), I wouldn't be freed from anything but the shackles of Nexus. In other words, I had no choice.
"I accept your offer" I said through gritted teeth.
Omar squinted at me. "A little more enthusiasm would go a long way, Bryant."
"Fine. I accept your offer, and I look forward to working with you!"
The Houndoom chuckled. "Yes, that's more like it! Now, I think breakfast should be almost ready, so follow me."
HANNAH IZOLA, 18
The church basement was almost completely silent. I even managed to fall asleep briefly, something I'd had a hard time doing ever since I lost my home.
But it didn't last long.
When I woke up, I noticed three things. First of all, everyone else was clearly still in a state of slumber. The gentle rise and fall of their chests was proof enough.
Secondly, Bryant was no longer by my side. I had mixed feelings about this; sure, he could be annoying when he talked about his special interests, but I still wanted him to be safe. The news from last night had been so unsettling that even if Bryant were my worst enemy, I wouldn't have gained any satisfaction from him having to face it.
He might be putting himself right in harm's way, if he left like he said he would. I wish I could have talked him out of it. Then again, why would he listen to me?
Last, but certainly not least, I heard sirens.
I covered my ears, but this only did so much. My hearing had been pretty keen even when I was human; now, putting my paws over my ears barely made a dent in the noise.
More ominous, of course, was the reason for the sirens. Although I couldn't see the vehicles heading for the church, the sound was loud enough that I could vividly picture what these vehicles must look like.
Police cars. And they're coming for us.
I stood up, fully prepared to scream in order to wake up the other Pokémon. Even if it would alert the officers to our presence in the basement, it would be worth it. (Besides, there weren't many other places to hide here.)
The Pokémon, however, didn't need me to make any sound. The sirens were more than enough.
Amanda, the Phanpy whom I'd comforted the previous day, abruptly snapped awake. She turned to look at me, terror evident in her eyes.
"Did you hear those, Hannah?" she asked me, her voice breaking. "The sirens?"
I nodded. "Yes. But don't worry, Amanda. They're not coming for the church. They must be arresting a criminal in one of the other buildings here."
I felt terrible about lying to the Phanpy, but I didn't see any other option; not if I didn't want her to freak out. Of course, this was rather shortsighted of me.
One of the other Pokémon, a Sceptile, gave me what can only be described as a patented Death Stare™. He didn't say anything, but he didn't need to.
I sighed, looking back down at Amanda. "Okay, I'll be honest: I do think they're coming for the church, and that we'll have to make a run for it. But we've got each other, and we won't go down without a fight."
There. I'm being as soothing as possible, while telling the truth this time.
Amanda, however, did not look reassured. Quite the opposite, in fact.
"You lied to me!" she bellowed. "How can you do that?"
"I don't know," I admitted. "I thought it was the right thing to do."
"She's twelve or so, isn't she? That's old enough for her to face the truth. By pretending she isn't, you're doing her a disservice." That was the Sceptile talking, and he wasn't exactly pleased with me.
"Okay, fine. I made a mistake. Now, let's get out of here before they move in and arrest us."
Deportation to Kanora Island. That's the fate that awaits all of us if we're caught.
I'd heard stories about that place. Although my family took vacations sometimes, we always gave the southern archipelago a wide berth. It was rumored to be filled with dangerous creatures, including feral Pokémon who wouldn't hesitate to make mincemeat out of others.
I mean, come on. Can't they have chosen a more humane punishment for us? But no, instead they have to load us up on a ship like animals and send us to that lonely island.
And then I realized something, a rather scary thought: We were animals. That's how the government saw us, and that's how we would be treated upon getting caught. Which is why we had to make sure that didn't happen.
Somehow, I became the de facto leader of us transformed former humans. I have no idea how this happened; most likely, the group just decided that leadership was needed, and settled on me at random.
Whatever the case, I barked out orders.
"Sceptile, you hide in the bathroom! Amanda, you go with him!"
The Sceptile frowned at me. "I have a name, you know."
"Well, you never told me that name, so I'll just call you Sceptile! Anyway, do you guys want to stay free or not?"
After that, the others didn't argue with me. We all ended up piling into the bathroom, with one or two Pokémon standing on the toilet, another three in the bathtub…you get the idea. We were packed in tighter than a can of sardines.
We knew that we couldn't make a sound, or else they'd find us. Still, it was more than a little unsettling to hear what sounded like a door being knocked down upstairs.
"They're here!" Amanda squeaked, a sound immediately followed by several other Pokémon shushing her.
How come when something like this happens, the shushing noise is always louder than the noise it's trying to stop? That said, I wish everyone would just BE QUIET!
Nobody moved an inch after that. Even the slightest squeak of the door on its hinges might be fatal for us.
There was a great deal of collective gasping from above; I was amazed that I could hear that. Perhaps being a Pokémon did come with its advantages, although right now, that's not what I wanted to hear.
The next voice I heard seemed to be coming from the Gardevoir lady. Yes, the same Gardevoir lady who'd been harboring us for the last week or so.
"I don't know where they are!" she all but shrieked. "They're somewhere out there, but certainly not here!"
My heart sank. Gardevoir might have been good at a lot of things, but she wasn't a good liar; that much was clear. If we were counting on her to convince the cops that we weren't in the basement, we were screwed.
"That's not what the report said!" a harsh male voice barked. "We've got the intelligence from our scouts, and we know that there are a number of Pokémon hiding in this diocese. Twelve, to be exact."
"There are a lot more than twelve Pokémon here" Gardevoir muttered loudly. "Look at us."
The male voice, probably belonging to a policeman, snorted. "I think you know what I mean, Gardevoir. I'm referring to the Pokémon who were once humans, the ones who have been ordered to go to Kanora Island."
Amanda sniffed. Personally, I was willing to knock that Phanpy girl out if it would stop her from bursting out into tears. I just wished I'd had a move that induced sleep.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Gardevoir replied. It was a calm lie, but it was hardly a believable one.
"Gardevoir, honey, you are a terrible, terrible liar. I can see right through you. But it doesn't matter if you tell the truth or not, because our scouts don't lie. So please, if you have any respect for the rule of law, take me to where they are."
"I won't!" Gardevoir insisted. "You don't have the right to deport them! They are members of the community just like anyone else, and if you don't let them stay…".
"I'm not making the rules", the officer snapped. "I'm only enforcing them. If you were in the police force, you would understand."
"No, I cannot do what you ask. It would go against everything I believe in, everything I've fought for the last week. It's just not going to happen."
The officer laughed again, but this laugh was utterly devoid of humor. "If you don't turn in the transformers you're harboring, you will be arrested and taken into custody. And I've heard there's a double-occupancy cell with Freya Speech."
Gardevoir grunted. It seemed that she and the cop were at a stalemate. Unfortunately, the cop probably had backup, so that begged the question: How long could Gardevoir hold out until she had no choice but to comply?
"You can't arrest all of us," she snarled at the officer. "I hate to break it to you, but we're not going down without a fight!"
I could imagine the officer shaking his head, even if I couldn't see him. Picturing the cop's face was rather satisfying; it would be so awesome to slap him, to make it clear that I didn't approve of his actions.
"Well, unfortunately for you, there won't be a fight. If you attempt to use physical force against us, we will respond with whatever it takes to subdue you. Even if 'whatever it takes' includes lethal force on our part. Suffice it to say, you don't want to cross us."
Something probably clicked in Gardevoir's mind then and there. If the police officers shot her and the others down, there would be nobody to stop the cops from finding us. They would die in vain.
At that moment, I thought of my parents up there. Unlike the cops, I knew what their faces looked like; they were probably shaking, their eyes wide open and hair standing on end.
Gardevoir sighed audibly, so much so that it sounded like a shout. "Okay then. I'll admit it: I was lying. They're down in the basement, I'll show you guys the way."
Two emotions fought for dominance within me at that moment.
One of them was betrayal. After the Gardevoir lady had done so much for us over the last week, she had now decided that we weren't worth it anymore. She was going to condemn us all to a terrible fate, just to save her own skin.
The other? Extreme fear.
Ever since that afternoon, when Gardevoir had given the announcement, I'd harbored a general worry about what lurked on that island, as well as the prospect of being sent there. But now, it was different.
Now, I knew we were about to face the consequences of our bad luck. Really, that's all it was: Bad luck. And the government had decided to punish us for it. Pathetic.
It was a vicious cycle, betrayal and fear, which existed in tandem with one another. It was hard to tell where one ended and the other began.
And still, there was the thump, thump, thump of footfalls coming towards our door. There were enough taps on the ground that I felt certain there were several officers.
"Huh, that's weird," Gardevoir said. "They're not in this room. Perhaps they did run away."
"We would have seen them. We've got backup outside the church as well, and they've mentioned no such thing. They surely would have noticed a dozen Pokémon running away, even at night."
"Well, then" the Gardevoir lady replied flatly. "I don't see any way they could be here. Other than this room, I can't think of where they'd be hiding."
There we go! She's at least TRYING to show some nerve. She's TRYING to resist.
But it might be too little, too late.
"Miss Gardevoir, did I mention how terrible of a liar you are? You sound like you're trying much too hard to convince us that the bathroom is empty. I'm confident that if twelve Pokémon wanted to squeeze in there, they could."
I could barely breathe. If my heart beat too loudly, they would find us in an instant. As it was, we were probably screwed anyway.
There was the sound of someone tugging on the door's handle, and then the door opened. And that was when all hell broke loose.
Amanda was the Pokémon closest to the door. She immediately screamed, not needing to be quiet anymore, and she sprinted as quickly as her stubby Phanpy legs could carry her.
A balding policeman snorted. "She won't get far," he told Gardevoir. "That much, I can assure you; we've got plenty of reinforcements."
Others were scrambling, practically kicking each other, just to get out of there, but it wasn't working for them. There were just too many of us, but not too many for the police to handle.
"Now, now, don't be scared," the cop assured us. "Kanora Island is an excellent place for a vacation. In a way, we're doing you guys a major service while we get everything sorted out in Moraga City."
If I could have yelled any number of obscenities in English at the officer, I would have. Unfortunately, they would mean nothing to him; "Infernape! Infernape! Infernape!" was just gibberish.
Still, the fact that he was billing this as a vacation…I could feel my blood boiling, which was saying something now that I was a Fire type. Additionally, my fists were clenched.
The officer turned to Gardevoir. "Miss Gardevoir, I would like to thank you from the bottom of my heart. Not everyone hiding the transformers in the city has been so willing to give them up. Trust me, we'll take good care of them."
Yeah, and I have some beachfront property in Coronet City to sell you. Eat shit!
"You are welcome, Officer. Not that you gave me much of a choice, of course - but you're welcome nonetheless."
I could have lit that woman on fire with a Flare Blitz. Indeed, that's what I wanted to do, but I knew that in such an enclosed space, it would be suicide. And there was no reason to commit suicide when there was still hope.
"We'll find a way out of this, guys" I told the other Pokémon, taking advantage of the fact that the officer wouldn't be able to understand me.
I noticed a few nods. Maybe we had a chance after all. Now was not the time to roll over and die.
