START Chapter 2: Nino
Antonin Monti
[Thursday, December 28, 2023. 09:02 EST]
"You should be at work, tesoro," his mother chided.
Leona Monti, age sixty-eight, was propped up on her bed at Reiness Hospital Chicago. Her hands had long since lost their colour, the result of several months of chemotherapy. At her bedside sat her son, Antonin Monti, the older of two boys. She was quietly playing with Antonin's hair, mussing it up despite all the product that he had put in it.
"What's the point of being boss if I can't even treat my mama, eh?" Antonin replied. He stroked Leona's wrist, grinning.
"You won't be the boss for long if you keep skipping work to see me."
"I'll buy a boat. We can sail all the way to the patria, just you and me," Antonin said.
"And Rocky?" Leona asked pointedly.
"And Rocky. The three of us."
She smiled. Even with the treatment slowly eating away at her health, she beamed as radiant as ever.
For Antonin, his mama was his hero. His best friend. He had to stay strong for her and nobody else. She'd raised Antonin alone after his father had been arrested, leaving behind a single mother and son. It was the two of them against the world until Leona had finally remarried, a man named Ronaldo Monti.
Leona slowly raised her free hand and brushed Antonin's hair.
"Nino, you should go check on your brother," she said.
"He's fine. Are you cold, mama?"
"Don't change the subject, young man. Rocco needs his big brother."
"Rocky knows where to find me. He should be here, with you," Antonin said.
"You know that he hasn't been the same since your father died. Hospitals… scare him."
Antonin sighed and quietly reached into his pocket for his phone. Dialling the number for his brother, he made a show of letting his mother see the screen.
"Hello. This is Rocky Monti. I can't come to the phone right now, so please leave a mess-"
He hung up, and dropped the phone back into his jacket. "He seems busy. Good for him."
"Nino. This is a difficult time for him. You know that," Leona chided. They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes longer. Mother and son.
Checking his watch, he patted her hand and slowly got up from the seat.
"I should probably head into the office. Someone has to pay your bills, mama," Antonin said.
Leona laughed, shooing him away in a playful manner. "Finally. I wanted to watch Jeopardy, anyway."
He picked up the remote and punched in a few buttons until he got to her trivia program. Triple-checking to make sure that her IV was working correctly, he made a move to leave the room. Just before exiting, however, he turned back around.
Even though she'd long since lost her hair to the cancer treatment, his mother was as beautiful as ever.
"I love you," he said.
Leona nodded weakly. She gave him a little thumbs up, which looked funny from her bedridden angle.
"I love you too, tesoro."
She was still smiling, even while turning her eyes away from him and onto the television. Antonin closed the door behind him as he left her hospital room. The secretary that had been waiting outside leapt to her feet and followed behind him.
[Thursday, December 28, 2023. 14:11 EST]
It was business as usual at the Monti Corporation. He'd been stuck in a pointless board meeting for about two hours before finally making his escape.
A sharp ringing roused Antonin from his small mountain of paperwork. He checked his work phone, but it was as silent as ever.
Reaching into his breast pocket, he pulled out the phone he used for personal matters. The caller ID was labelled as Dr. Laurie Parker (RHC).
He wasted no time pressing accept. "Hello?"
"Is this Antonin Marti Gi-"
"Yes, this is him," he quickly replied.
"I'm calling to give you an update on your mother's condition," Dr. Parker said.
"Something wrong?" Antonin asked.
"No no no. I'm here to give you some great news Mr. Monti. Our tests from Monday just came back. I'm happy to tell you that Leona's cancer is completely gone."
Antonin felt his knees weaken. He blinked, not believing what he had just heard.
"I apologise. Could you repeat what you just said, doctor?"
He could hear a light chuckle from the other end of the call.
"Your mom's gonna be alright, Antonin. Her cancer is gone. She's finally coming home."
They continued talking for some time, as Laurie gave a brief rundown of Leona's latest results. There were some tumours to keep an eye on, but none of them were cancerous. After thanking her several more times, he finally hung up the phone.
Just as he put his phone away, there was a knock on the door to his office. A man walked in, one of his executive directors, Andrew.
"Boss? You might want to take a look at th-," Andrew, started to say.
"Not now, Andrew. I have to get to the hospital as soon as possible."
"But-"
"Whatever it is, it can wait," Antonin said.
"Sir, this isn't-"
"Get out."
With a respectful nod, he closed the door behind him. The force of it seemed a bit off, as one of the paintings on Antonin's wall fell to the floor. Pollock or not, he couldn't care less.
Antonin shrugged off his jacket and rushed towards the door. He made no effort to contain his excitement as he brisked past the different offices and headed straight to the elevator.
Floor 1. He jammed the button and glared at Andrew who had made a move to follow him downstairs.
The elevator doors closed and he started to descend.
Floor 13…
Floor 12…
Floor 11…
Antonin tapped his foot impatiently. Whoever thought that moving into a historic Chicago building was a good idea had obviously overlooked the fact that Antonin Monti was not a man who liked to wait.
Floor 7…
Floor 6.
The elevator stopped. The doors did not move, so it wasn't like somebody had pressed the button to get on.
The lights in the elevator began to flicker uncontrollably. Antonin noticed a slight tremor coursing throughout the shaft. An earthquake?
He was stuck in a very bad spot. Was this what Andrew had been warning him about?
Another tremor, this one even bigger than the last. Antonin fell to the side as the elevator itself seemed to jump up and down.
His pocket vibrated. Antonin snatched out his phone, holding onto the side of the elevator as it began to rock side to side.
Rocky Monti.
But before he could answer, the walls around him made one final shudder.
And he began to plummet to his death.
[Friday, December 29, 2023. 11:34 EST]
"Over here!" He heard a voice calling out.
"We found the boss. Someone get 9-1-1 on the phone." Another voice, this one female.
"Emergency numbers have been down since yesterday." He recognised this person. Andrew?
"Do you know anyone at Reiness? A doctor, a paramedic, anybody!" The woman yelled.
"Reiness is gone. That fucking bird thing turned it to dust," Andrew said.
What? What was he talking about?
Antonin groaned as he opened his eyes. His legs were stuck underneath the detached elevator doors, and his right arm was pinned down by debris.
He blinked a few times but couldn't see anything. He tried to speak, but the dust irritated his throat and he started coughing uncontrollably.
"BOSS! Can you hear us? Boss!" The female voice, he recognised it as Alice from the Marketing team.
"Y- yes. I can hear you," Antonin managed to croak out. The numbness from the shock was beginning to wear off, and a flash of pain sent shockwaves down his spine. "What is going on?"
"We're getting you out of there, boss. Peter, be careful."
"There's like a ton of concrete on top of him, dumbass," a new voice, Peter, snarked.
"What happened to Reiness? What happened to my mother?" Antonin yelled. He spat out the dust in his mouth, and noticed a few specks of blood. Internal bleeding, most likely.
"We're gonna get you out of there, boss. Just hold on!" Peter yelled.
A few grunts of someone struggling could be heard, someone picking away at the debris. The elevator doors on his legs seemed even heavier now, and he could feel himself struggling to stay awake.
Finally, after what seemed like hours, a stream of light burst through the rubble. It practically blinded Antonin, who used his free hand to shield his eyes. The dust got everywhere, which made it even harder to see.
A few hands kept digging at the bricks in front of him, but Antonin could make out a few familiar faces. Andrew, one of the company directors, was using an emergency axe to chip away at the rocks. Alice, his marketing director, was holding a first aid kit.
Antonin did not recognise this 'Peter', but he was wearing a Monti Construction jumpsuit so he assumed that this man was also an employee of his.
He managed to clear his throat enough to speak. "What happened to Reiness Hospital?"
Andrew flinched, but neglected to answer. He kept hacking away at the debris while Alice tried and failed to make her way through the hole that they had created.
"It's going to be okay, sir. We'll figure it out," Alice said.
"You will tell me now."
"What's the point in hiding it? He'll find out soon enough," said Peter. "Reiness was crushed by this giant lizard thing with wings. It's all over the news."
"What on earth are you on about, Peter? Antonin asked.
"The Catastrophe. It hit Chicago bad. The hospital's just one of the places that got nuked," Peter responded.
"You mean the earthquake?"
Peter shook his head. "The Catastrophe, boss man. This earthquake was just one part of it."
"What about my mother?" Antonin asked.
"Well Andrew over here got some bad news for you, chief," Peter said.
Andrew remained silent and kept digging. His eyes were red, as though he had been crying for some time now.
"Well Andrew, would you mind telling me what the hell is going on? Where is my mother?" Antonin said, coldly.
"She uh… she was in the hospital, boss. She was in the hospital," Andrew said.
Antonin felt a cold hand squeezing his heart. A pressure was building in his chest, and he could feel his eyes begin to tear up.
"Rescue efforts. Are they getting her out?" he asked.
"Boss…Leona is gone," Alice said.
"... gone?"
"Your mother is dead."
No. She was finally all better now. They were gonna go home. He was going to take her to Italy. They were gonna be a family again. She couldn't be dead. She couldn't be dead. SHE COULDN'T JUST DIE LIKE THAT.
The screams of Antonin Monti could be heard ringing throughout the wreckage, screams of pain and screams of sorrow.
[Friday, December 29, 2023. 20:34 EST]
"Play it again," Antonin ordered. He was lying in his own bed, as several doctors crowded around his damaged body.
"Yes sir," Andrew pressed the replay button, and the clip began to play once more.
The meteorite slammed onto the Chicago Bean, sending wreckage throughout the entire downtown area. Flames erupted throughout the surrounding streets as cars were ignited.
First responders, firefighters from the looks of it, streamed down the road, sirens blaring.
They parked in front of the smouldering rock, hoses at the ready.
The meteorite remained still, surprisingly intact despite direct collision with the ground. It defied any efforts by the firefighters to put out the flames covering it.
A few minutes pass, some ambulances arriving to cart away any survivors. The meteorite had still not budged.
Then a noise, a cry of sorts, filled the air. The on-sight firefighters all covered their ears as the shriek deafened them.
The molten rock was stirring. It twitched and shook, sending shards of meteorite up into the sky and into the crowd.
A limb emerged from the rock, white and sinewy. Shaped like a wing, it stretched outwards and spanned a few dozen feet long. Small feathers strewed along its side, as it casually flexed the appendage.
Suddenly, the meteorite split apart clean down the middle. Another wing emerged from the ruins, equally as long and silvery-white.
Finally, the beast itself crawled out of its shell. A creature with two arm-like wings, lizard-like in its features. It tore apart the remainder of the meteorite, screaming into the skies. Blasting air from its maw, it parted the clouds in the skies.
And the ground began to shake.
Uncontrollably, the creature slammed its wings against the streets, crushing any vehicles or buildings in its path. It slammed the pavement relentlessly, trying to flap its majestic wings.
Angered, it roared into the heavens. The clouds began to darken, rain pouring from above and plummeting the earth. After much effort, it finally began to take to the air, each flap of its wings destroying countless lives. And it opened its gaping mouth for one final cry. The ensuing blast ripped through the streets of Chicago, obliterating everything in its path.
Including Reiness Hospital Chicago. And all of its inhabitants.
Andrew quickly hit the pause button, looking at his boss for further instruction. Antonin gave none, simply staring at the remnants of the hospital on the screen. The still image showed the smoking remains of Chicago's most prestigious medical facility.
Finally, Antonin Monti pried his eyes away from the television, looking back at Andrew.
"Do we know what that creature is?" Antonin asked.
Andrew paused, before responding, "I uh… There was a news report from earlier today, boss."
"And…?"
"It's a pokemon. Like, you know, the made-up little animal things from the video games?" Andrew said.
"My mother is dead, Andrew. I am in no mood for your games," said Antonin, flatly.
"I would never disrespect Leona like that-"
"Mrs. Monti."
"I would never disrespect Mrs. Monti like that, sir. That was a pokemon, but like, in real life," Andrew replied.
"Are you telling me that that thing that killed my mother, is a fictional animal that somehow came to life?" Antonin challenged, practically hissing the last part.
Andrew quickly nodded, afraid to speak up any further.
Antonin noticed his subordinate's distress, and quickly eased his tone, "I'm sorry Andrew. It's been… a difficult day."
"No problem, boss. I am so so sorry about Leon- Mrs. Monti. She was an amazing woman."
"She was my greatest joy, Andrew. My mama, my shining star," Antonin sighed. Gazing into the ceiling, he asked another question. "What kind of… pokemon, was this beast?"
"Reports say it's what's called a lugia, boss. L-U-G-I-A. Lugia," Andrew said.
By this time, the doctors had finished their work. Leaving behind some general comments about taking it easy, they quietly left the room. Andrew quietly palmed a few wads of cash into each of their hands.
Antonin simply stared at the paused screen. The remnants of the carnage had been immortalised in his brain. He clenched his undamaged fist, his knuckles white with fury.
"Lugia," he spat. "I will destroy you."
Holt Locke
[Thursday, December 28, 2023. 18:46 EST]
I dropped Miranda off at the emergency room. Her wounds, though severe, were not life-threatening. She would make a full recovery, sans the eye that was untreatable.
Before I could excuse myself, Miranda gripped my wrist tightly.
"Be careful, dipshit," she said.
"I'll be fine."
"I owe you one. If you ever need anything, come find me."
"Alright, drama queen. I'll do that," I replied. She relaxed her grip, and I eased her hand away.
Making my way out of the ICU, I noticed that it was now dark outside. While it was dry now, Seattle winters were unpredictable, and I had no doubt that it'd start drizzling soon enough.
I slowly started making my way back to my flat in the Capitol Hill district. The subway system was down, so I had to walk the ten-ish blocks to the apartment. True enough, the first few drops of rain began to fall as I was about two blocks along.
And then I ran into the rats.
They were about the size of a small dog, or a cat. Picking through the compost bins, three purplish rats were scavenging for something to eat. Rattatas. Rattata? Grammatical plurality of pokemon species was not part of my copy editor training.
The fact was, these rattatas were directly blocking my way home. None of them seemed to notice me, or none of them seemed to particularly care. I knew better than to try and skirt around them, though. A single look at their fangs blew that idea way out of the park.
I looked around, trying to see if there was any way out. Stepping back gently, I figured I could maybe backtrack and head down a different street.
Then of course I stepped on some glass.
At the sudden cracking of shards, two of the three rattatas perked up in my direction. The third one kept eating away at the trash, blissfully unaware of my presence. Rattata #1 and rattata #2 however, weren't as keen. They began the squeak and chatter, hyper-agitated and looking straight in my direction.
I bent over and picked up a larger shard of glass, about the size of my palm. It wouldn't do much to one of these rats, but it was better than nothing.
Rattata #1 lunged, fangs bared and ready to chomp down. Forgetting the glass in my hand, I used the back of my heel to kick it away from me.
Rattata #2 took a more careful approach. It paced around me, chittering and snarling in its little ratlike way. It eyed the glass in my hand, shivering and chattering. Tiny little squeaks of fear.
I looked down at the first rattata, who was just now recovering from my blow. If it were possible, it somehow looked even more outraged than before. I'm not an expert in rattata physiology, but its fur looked a bit spikier.
Rattata #2 leapt forward, noticing my averted attention. I swept my right foot around, sending the glass shards flying at it. It managed to dodge a few larger pieces, but it took an eyeful of the tinier glass dust. And it howled in pain.
Rattata #1, who I decided to name Bucky, lunged once more for my leg. I tried to kick it again, but it twisted out of the way of my foot and managed to sink its fangs on the inside of my shin.
This time, the scream was my own. I desperately tried to shake it off, but Bucky just would not budge. If only I had a weapon…
I realised that I still had the glass makeshift knife. I quickly bent down, and jammed it at the rattata. To my surprise, it barely made a cut. However, it was enough to get it off my leg, as it bounced away off the pavement.
It was clear that their fighting spirit was gone. Both rattatas rushed back to their still-eating comrade, and scurried into the alleyway.
Once I was absolutely sure that they had disappeared, I let myself relax. The adrenaline of the day's events was starting to wear off, and my body felt heavier and heavier. I pulled up my trousers to take a look at the wound. It was not pretty. The rattata left a deep gash in the fleshy part of my leg. I gently dabbed at the hole with my hand towel, from my briefcase.
"Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck," I cursed.
There was no way I'd make it all the way back to my apartment with my leg like this. I'd have to turn around and get to the hospital…
Looking backwards, I changed my mind.
Further down the street, dozens of cars were lined up on the way to Seattle General. Some of the passengers had bypassed the road entirely, and were making their way on foot. I spotted dozens of injuries, some of them far more severe than my own. The hospital was not a good idea. Not now, at least.
I turned back forward. Across the street, there was a bar that looked about as new as a Gameboy Color. Hobbling over there, I peered inside and hollered for help. Nobody answered.
With my shoulder, I pushed my way inside. The lights were still on but there was nobody behind the counter. It seemed like the bar had been abandoned during the Catastrophe.
I made my way over to the racks of booze. I looked around until I spotted a half-finished bottle of vodka. Pouring in some water from the tap, I shook it up and unwrapped my leg.
"Action movies… don't fail me now," I prayed.
I poured the vodka-water mix onto my wound. It burned. It was probably the worst pain in the world, and I was crying profusely. The waterworks were uncontrollable.
Settling down the bottle, I rummaged through the bar for a first aid kit. All I could find was a dusty fire extinguisher which had expired back in 2014, and some strips of gauze and some inflammation meds.
Sniffing it to make sure it wasn't too musty, I wrapped the gauze around the bite. Tight enough so that it would hold, I downed the acetaminophen tablets.
My eyes were getting harder to keep open. My thoughts began to drift to the events earlier that day.
Work. Having a normal entry level job where my only worries were strict deadlines and page checks. Messing around with Miranda. Eduardo and Molly's obvious-secret relationship.
I smiled. The off-brand Tylenol had started to kick in. They weren't very powerful painkillers, but they were still a relief nonetheless. With my body thoroughly exhausted, I rested my head against the counter and my mind drifted off to sleep.
…
…
…
"-should be waking up soon," someone said.
"No good thief, that's what he is," another voice responded.
I opened my eyes, noticing that there were two strange figures standing behind me. The bigger one, a man who appeared to be in his 50's, was chewing on the butt end of a cigar. He had a weirdly shaped cowboy hat, and a brown leather vest.
We made eye contact. He noticed that I was awake, and smirked.
"Well it looks like the rat's awake. How ya feeling, boy?" he asked.
I cleared my throat. Any fever I had was gone. Looking down at my leg again, I noticed that someone had replaced the gauze with a proper bandage. The smell of actual medicine wafted up and I scrunched my nose.
The man grinned. "Took a trip down to the pharmacy, explained that some kid was passed out bleeding in my own bar. Ole' Barney here kindly brought me some of his stronger stuff. Antibiotics," he said.
The other man, Barney, nodded his head. "You're lucky that Clayton found you. If you'd left that sorry gauze on for any longer you might have lost a leg. Rest easy, son. You're safe," Barney said.
Just then I noticed something else in the room. A dog was sniffing around in the corner, looking for something.
The cowboy man, Clayton, caught where I was looking. He whistled. "Rodie, git back here boy."
Shaking the dust off its fur, the dog strutted back to the bar… to reveal itself to be a herdier.
My eyes widened in surprise. "That's a pokemon!" I yelled.
Clayton gave a half shrug. "If you say so. That's just Rodie, he's my mutt. Say hullo Rodie."
The herdier, Rodie, fell on his back. He started wagging his little tail, tongue sticking out and blinking.
This pokemon was acting just like a normal animal!
"Good boy, Rodie," Clayton said. Herdier squirmed until he got back to his feet, then returned to the corner he had been exploring.
I managed to ease myself into one of the cushier barstools. Clayton didn't seem like a bad person, so I would enjoy his hospitality a little bit furthe-
"So now that you're all patched up, you'd best be on your way, son," Clayton said. His eyes were glued to the television screen. Vice President Ayaa Nguyen was about to make her announcement.
"Come on, Clayton. Let the kid stay for the news. He needs to be easy on his feet for a few more hours, anyways," said Barnie, grabbing the remote and raising the volume to the maximum.
Just then, Vice President Nguyen appeared on the television screen. Her white suit looked hurriedly ironed, and there were large dark bags underneath her eyes.
Honestly? I thought she looked like hell.
"My fellow Americans," she began. "I am here, in uncertain times, to share what this administration has learned so far. Any information that I disclose has been verified to the best of our ability. Today, we set aside politics. We set aside distractions and focus on the issues of the American people…"
I silently watched the vice president give her speech. The video footage showed scenes similar to what we had in Seattle. A meteorite and a crash.
Wild animals from all around slowly turning into pokemon.
The emergence of legendaries.
My thoughts went back to the suicune I had watched on the news yesterday. If this report from the vice president was any reference, then Suicune was our catastrophe here in Seattle. Judging from the local damage reports, we had escaped the brunt of the chaos that had occurred in other major cities.
Vice President Nguyen's executive report gave me a lot of insight into what was going on around the world. As far as I could tell, there wasn't a single corner of our planet that had not been impacted in some way by the Catastrophe.
A shocking story for sure. I could feel my heart sinking, further and further with each image on the screen.
"Chin up, boy. It'll be fine," Clayton said. He had his feet up on the counter, sipping on his whiskey soda. "Government's gonna roundup these misfits and sort this out, mind me."
I gave him a weak grin, and my eyes went back to the screen.
"Yveltal," the voice of Ayaa said.
The image of the White House showed up on the television. Clayton, seeing this, spat out his drink and jumped up in surprise. "What in the…"
"... 203 staff members, six U.S. senators, and… The President of the United States of America… They were all killed."
Silence fell over the room. I sat there, baffled, as the image of the White House evaporating played before me.
Barnie, shaking, picked up one of the gin bottles and poured himself a glass. I saw a hint of a tear in one of his eyes, which he quickly brushed away.
Clayton remained unmoving, eyes still fixed on the image of the White House. Vice President Nguyen was still speaking, but none of us were really paying attention.
What happens now? That was the question going through our minds. If even the White House wasn't safe, then what would become of the people?
We just sat there, the three of us, silently and lost in thought.
That is, until I finally broke that silence.
"Do you have any weapons, Clayton?" I asked.
He shook his head, "What do I look like boy? I'm a pacifist."
"I took you for a survivalist, with the cowboy getup and all," I said.
Clayton gave me a dry smile. "I own a ranch in central Washington. Never touched a gun in my life, and I don't intend to, no sir."
Barnie looked at us both, before raising his hand. "I have a pistol. It's from my father," he said.
"Do you know how to use it?" I asked.
"He gave me the run-down. I left it back in my pharmacy."
Clayton gave him a look, at which Barnie chuckled. "You never know, in the city. Better safe than sorry."
I then asked if there was any food or supplies lying around. Clayton nodded and pointed to the storage.
"Boy, you're speaking like it's the end of the world. Lookin' for 'munitions and food," Clayton said.
"Better safe than sorry, right?"
Barnie left to go fetch the weapon, while I followed Clayton into the back room.
However, as soon as we were out of Barnie's sight, Clayton suddenly shoved me into the wall. He pressed his right arm into my throat, barely allowing me to breathe. Herdier was growling in my direction, sensing his owner's sudden distress.
"Now you listen here, boy. I still don't know a darn thing about you. Barnie seems to have a liking for ya, which is more than I can say for myself," Clayton growled. He pressed my throat a little tighter, and it was getting harder to take in breaths.
"You're gonna tell me your story. The whole story. Or else Rodie here is gonna git ya," he said.
I managed to swallow the lump in my throat, and respond, "I- I thou- thought you were a pacifist?"
Clayton grimaced. He set me back down on the ground, and I drank in that fresh air once more. I fell to my knees, unable to handle this sudden exertion. Clayton then walked over to one of the freezers, promptly taking a seat.
"Speak up now, boy. I'm losing patience."
I massaged my neck, slowly leaning against the wall behind me while staying seated. Since I had nothing to hide, I figured it wouldn't hurt to share what I knew.
So I started talking. I told him about my job, about where I grew up, my friends from the Seattle Herald, saving Miranda from the cacnea, and even my brief stint as a pro pokemon player. Clayton seemed surprised to find out that I knew so much about these pokemon, and muttered something about 'kids and their video games.'
He was a good listener, only interrupting to ask a question or two.
By the time I was done talking, he looked deep in thought. After what seemed like minutes, he finally sighed and glanced up into the ceiling.
"Soon as Barnie gets back, we'll take you home. Eight blocks, right?" he asked.
I nodded, and he continued on.
"You know more about these… pokemon, than either of us. But the fact remains that you're a stranger," he said. He began to pick at his chin. "I can't be taking care of you and Barnie. I'm too old. Too broken."
I quickly responded, "I never asked you to take care of me. I'll be fine on my own once I get home."
Clayton shook his head. "Yer a skinny little twig with too much mouth and not enough meat on 'em bones. You'll last a month, tops," he said.
I tried to object but he shut me with a look. "Pokemon. Yer sayin' that they can be tamed?" he asked.
"Yes. At least, I think so."
That answer seemed to satisfy him. He whistled at Rodie who barked once and sat down.
"This is Rodie. He's my wife's dog," Clayton said.
"Your wife?"
"Died last year in the hospital. We started this bar in the city so she could get treatment."
"Oh."
"Forget about it, boy. Not important. This dog and this bar are all I got left of her," said Clayton, scratching the herdier's ear. "I want you to look after him."
"What? No, I-"
"It ain't much use for me. I'm getting old. No way I'm figuring out how to train 'em pokemon. That's your job, kid."
Herdier, Rodie, looked up at Clayton. He looked sad, if his frown was anything to go off of. He nuzzled his tiny head against Clayton's boots. The cowboy bartender just gently shoved him away, in my direction.
"You follow this young man, Rodie. You keep him safe. You listen. Got that?"
Herdier padded over to my side, wounded. He took a long look at me, before licking my knee. I patted him on the back, not sure what else to do.
Clayton just nodded, seeing me with his dog. "That'll do."
He started showing me how to take care of Rodie. From the commands that he knew, the leash that he could barely fit in, he tried giving me the crash course on being a responsible pet owner.
"One thing is, he ain't takin' too well to the food I've been feeding him. Not since he changed yesterday. Wonderin' if you've got an answer for that," Clayton said.
I paused for a moment, then shook my head. "I've got ideas, but we'll need to test them out first. Got any fruit lying around?" I asked.
Clayton walked over to the bar and came back with some sliced limes. Rodie took a sniff, before shaking his head.
"Anything else? Something that might, you know, that might have changed," I said.
Taking another moment to think, Clayton popped open the fridge and pulled out some peaches. Well, they sorta looked like peaches.
"What the hell?" Clayton exclaimed. In his hands were giant peach-like fruits, swollen and covered in light circles.
I plucked one from his arms, and set it down in front of Rodie. The herdier yelped in excitement and started tearing through the berry with gusto. Clayton just stared in wonder.
"Darned I'll be, the day I see a dog that likes fruit," he said.
Suddenly, we heard a loud howl coming from the outside. Clayton jumped into action, grabbing an aluminium bat and rushing to the door.
I followed behind him, still limping from my leg wound. Rodie stood next to me, anxiously peering at Clayton. The howling had definitely alarmed him, as he looked nervous while trailing beside me.
When the three of us reached the front door, we were greeted by a terrifying sight.
Barnie was scrambling down the street, clutching onto a tiny wooden box while running as fast as he could. Behind him, a pack of small animals were on his tail, barking and yelping as they followed.
I could hear one of them cackling, almost like a hyena. A hyena?
"Clayton, those are poochyena. A dark type pokemon," I said.
Clayton didn't really seem to care about my explanation. He made his way in the direction of the pack, holding up his baseball bat, gearing up for a swing.
It looked like Barnie was going to get away. He was about twenty metres out from the bar, and he was making good speed…
Until he stumbled and tripped on a fallen traffic sign.
The first poochyena lunged, ramming into Barnie's side and ripping through his clothes. Barnie just started screaming, crying, trying to shake it off. He frantically started beating the hyena pokemon with his hand, while scrambling to open the wooden box.
Clayton was still too far away to help. I knew that I had to do something. I turned to Rodie, who was shaking in fear.
"Rodie. Go help Barnie. Attack."
The herdier just stared at me, not knowing what to do. I cursed.
What moves does a herdier even know? Time was running out, and I couldn't just stand around and do nothing. Pretty soon, the poochyena would rip Barnie apart with its bite…
An idea flashed into my head.
"Rodie! Use bite on that first pooch."
Rodie, hearing my command, leapt into action. With its faster reflexes, it easily ran right past Clayton who was about ten feet away from Barnie.
With a swift jump, Rodie rammed into Poochyena and bit down hard.
The poochyena cried out in pain, shaking off the herdier, and letting go of Barnie. Barnie took this time to crawl away from the fighting pokemon, and fumbled to open up the box.
"Give it to me, Barnie," Clayton barked. He picked up the wooden box and slammed it against the concrete. Barnie picked up a shining metal object from inside, his pistol. He put in a few rounds, before pointing and aiming at the poochyenas… and Rodie.
"Wait, STOP!" I shouted.
Barnie fired three times in succession. He managed to clip one of the poochyena on the shoulder, which instantly took it down. Thankfully, none of the bullets injured Rodie, but one came dangerously close to his head.
"Rodie, take down!"
The herdier instantly changed tactics. Instead of going for a bite, he coiled himself up like a spring, before lunging headfirst into one of the poochyenas. The hyena went down, knocked out cold by the impact. A critical hit.
By then, Clayton had managed to sling Barnie's arm over his shoulder, and the two of them were hobbling back together.
Only three poochyenas were left, and Rodie was dealing with them all by himself. I gauged the distance between the fighting animals and my two companions, and figured that it was a good time to up the ante.
"Rodie, use Leer. Then follow up with another take down."
Jumping backwards to gain some distance, Rodie followed my commands to the letter. He gave a vicious glare in their direction, which made the poochyenas hesitate. Taking this opportunity, Rodie slammed into two of them in quick succession, the third one narrowly dodging the take down attack.
None of the wild poochyenas had any fighting spirit left in them. The three that could still fight all just yelped and started running away.
The fight was over. Rodie had won.
END Chapter 2: Nino
A/N: I really appreciate any feedback and constructive criticism! Let me know if there are any glaring errors or improvements to be made. Thank you for reading A New World. Special shoutout to Orion, Team Skull Scientist, DreadLordFluffyPants, burninghelp2, and spencer for reading my rough drafts!