Baptism by Fire — Part Two
Growing up, Nicholas had seen many Pokémon battles on television. Adoring crowds filled the stadium where the dueling trainers, dressed in fine clothes so fancy they bordered on outrageous, called out clipped commands to their immaculately groomed Pokémon with élan. The trainers dueled like oiled machines, one command immediately following another like scripted dramas. How the cameras loved them, these boys and girls with smug and bright smiles plastered on their handsome faces! Reporters would click away their cameras as the victors struck heroic poses and quipped clichéd one-liners out to millions of squealing fans across the world. In every interview, glowing trainers would gloat over their supposed brilliance or gush over that special bond they had formed with their Pokémon during their long journey.
As madness reigned, Nicholas found all of this to be a heinous lie.
All around him, gangers and Pokémon tore into one another in a violent melee. Pokémon engaged other Pokémon in a battle of speed and brawn, while Silver Wings lashed out at the Midnight's Children with blades and fists. Boys who haven't even started shaving fought like demons, ugly slurs they didn't even know the meaning of spewing from their mouths. Young girls whose days should have been filled with talks of boys and gossips screeched and clawed at each other. The air was quickly flooded with agonized screams as first bodies hit the ground. Fearsome gangers became children once more as they clutched at their gory wounds and cried out for their mothers. Smell of blood, sweat, and excrement was overpowering, soaking into the carpet of splintered crates and spilled food packets. One-on-one duels were very rare for both Pokémon and gangers. Only very few trainers could tear their attention from the melee to shout out orders to their Pokémon, forcing their companions to take initiative of their own. Both gangs simply tapped into their most basic animal instincts to stay alive.
There was no order to it. There was no sane explanation for any of what was happening. At that moment, Nicholas knew this was the reality of Pokémon battles, what it had been ever since the dawn of time. All those elaborate battle theories and codes of conduct were nothing more than a farce. Trying to control and regulate Pokémon battles was like trying to contain a supernova.
Even in this chaos, Nicholas realized Shade had stuck close, his claws splayed out and ready to pounce on anyone who dared to come at him. Before he could give out proper commands, however, Nicholas was suddenly blindsided by a young teenager who tackled him to the ground and knocked all wind out from him. He blinked through the dizziness to see a scrawny and emaciated ganger, bare-chested and covered in war paint, straddling him with a switchblade clutched in his raised hand. Before Shade would've have come to his rescue, the black weasel's attention was caught by not one or two, but three Rattatas who pounced on him.
Nicholas barely had enough time to raise the wooden pole in his hands to stop the switchblade that would've stabbed him in the chest. His attacker's wrist bounced hard against the pole, but the ganger struck again and leant in all his weight forward. Barely held back, the blade slowly began inching down towards Nicholas. Despite his emaciated frame, the teenager attacked with berserk fury. The ganger's bulgy, bloodshot eye and painted face were more revolting up close. A maddened jabber of curses spewed forth from his frothing mouth, and Nicholas smelled a strong waft of alcohol on his rancid breath. Veins began popping out from the ganger's forehead as he doubled his efforts to plunge the switchblade all the way into Nicholas' chest.
Nicholas' predicament involuntarily triggered in him a flashback of his dreadful encounter with the Grim Reaper. Panic and fear sent a jolt of adrenaline through his body, and Nicholas began thrashing wildly against his attacker. With both of his hands gripping the pole and his legs unable to dislodge the feral urchin, Nicholas did the next best thing and snapped his head forward and rammed the boy's ugly face. Painful stars immediately erupted in front of his eyes, but the weight holding him down was suddenly lifted as the ganger was sent staggering backwards by the sudden assault. Nicholas quickly scrambled onto his feet while the boy tottered on the spot, moaning and clutching at his bloodied nose. A murderous glint shone in his eye as he raised the pocket knife in front of him.
Something came over Nicholas at that moment, an emotion that felt alien but at the same time so right. The frustrations and despair that was piled upon him for weeks were transformed into a pure adulterated rage, fueling him with more strength than he had ever had all his life. All chaos around him sounded muffled as he locked eyes with his enemy. There was no reason or intellect to restrain him this time. Right there, Nicholas knew what it was to be an animal, driven by instinct, desperation, and fury.
Right there, he hated this wretched ganger more than anyone else in the world.
A blood-curdling scream erupting from his lungs, Nicholas whipped his pole above his head and swung it into the ganger's cheek. The blow sent the urchin toppling to the ground, his knife clattering onto the floor. The ganger had barely enough time to recover before Nicholas pounced and began pummeling him without pause. His wiry frame worked like a machine piston as he brought the pole again and again upon any bare flesh he could find. What muscle strength Nicholas lacked was compensated by the brittle hardness of the wooden pole. The ganger cried and screamed under him to no avail; the relentless blow continued to color his pallid flesh blue, black, and purple. Nicholas was dimly aware that he was yelling out names. People he loved; those he wanted to save but couldn't; people who risked or gave their lives for his sake and the Silver Wings….
Wilbur, Lana, Milo, Barry, Wilbur, Lana, Milo, Barry, Wilbur, Lana, Milo, Barry; Father, Father, Father, Father, Father, Father…!
The urchin raised his arm to shield himself, only to have it broken under another blow. He howled with agony, recoiling desperately from the bow. The swing however snapped the pole in half, momentarily interrupting Nicholas' onslaught. The Midnight's Children ganger seized the moment to scrabble out of the way of his attacker. Sobbing hysterically, the urchin fled the barricades without looking back, clutching piteously at his broken arm. Awareness crept back into Nicholas as he looked around him as if waking up from a deep sleep. Furious sound of battle buffeted him once more and the teenager found himself alone with a splintered stick in his hand.
Nicholas turned to find Shade still locked in combat, though there seemed no need for concern. Though covered with scratches and bite marks, the black weasel Pokémon had just finished beating down his second Rattata before him, while the remaining rat Pokémon circled behind him warily.
"Shade, Metal Claw, behind you!" Nicholas shouted.
Without skipping a beat, Shade swung around and lashed out with his right claw, which had taken on a hard, metallic sheen. The swipe caught the startled Rattata and sent it crashing against the barricade with a pained squeak.
"Well done," Nicholas said to his grinning Pokémon. "Let's see if anyone needs our help."
Shade's eyes widened, and he gestured urgently behind Nicholas. The teenager turned to see Amber standing protectively over her wounded charges in the far corner. Her Poochyena stood alongside its trainer despite its many wounds, growling and bristling. Of the rest of her Pokémon team, there was no sign. Nicholas' attention, however, was transfixed on a brute of a ganger steadily advancing on Amber. Heavily muscled, the ganger towered over both Amber and Nicholas by more than two heads. Muscles bulged from his over-sized torso straining against a dirty and stained wife-beater. From his meaty hand swung a battered sledgehammer, its handle shortened down for ease of carrying.
"H-Hey you!" Nicholas shouted, despite himself. "Why don't you pick on someone your size for a change?"
The Midnight's Children ganger paused and slowly turned around. Nicholas suddenly wished he hadn't. Ritual scars, tattoos, and piercings filled the ganger's face with little room to spare. Large bulging eyes stared hungrily from their sockets, around which he had daubed a coat of charcoal. Upon spotting Nicholas, the ganger grinned widely, revealing a row of teeth filed down to shark-like fangs.
Nicholas gulped, feeling all of his adrenaline drain from his body. It took nearly all he had just to keep his knees from going weak.
"What's this?" the ganger growled. "You dare bark at me, you little pup? Are you as stupid as you look, runt, or are you just ignorant?"
"Well, um…." Nicholas stammered. "That is—yes, I-I do dare. Yes. I am challenging you. To a duel, I mean." Such poor choice of words, he thought wistfully. There wasn't going to be a duel. Just a one-sided beat-down he probably won't live through.
The ganger threw his head back and laughed raucously.
"So eager to die, little man! Very well then, I'll give you your wish! But you're funny. That's why I'll save you the trouble and let my Pokémon pound you to pulp instead!"
"Are we just going to talk," Nicholas said, "or settle this as trainers?" At his feet, Shade brandished his claws menacingly and bared his teeth.
"Very well then…" the ganger said, still chortling. "When the Lady Midnight judges your soul in the afterlife, tell her it was Tuco Hell-Jaw who sent you there!" Tuco plucked out a single Pokeball strapped to his belt and flicked it disdainfully. With a flash, a humanoid form materialized onto the battlefield between them. Twice the size of Shade, the beige Pokémon sported vein-like pink stripes on its body, a round red nose, and a pair of thick muscular arms. Its most prominent feature, however, was a length of steel beam it wielded as deftly as it would swing a stick.
"A Gurdurr," Nicholas muttered breathlessly. "Oh, this can't be good."
Such reservation was lost on Shade, however, who lunged towards his foe with a fierce cry. His splayed claws gleamed with reflected light as they drew back for a vicious strike.
"Crusha, use your Hammer Arm!" Tuco roared.
Faster than Nicholas could have believed, the Gurdurr leapt forth with its steel weapon raised high above the head. Shade squeaked in alarm and arrested its reckless charge as his opponent's humongous form descended down on him. The black weasel managed to dive off to the side, a split second before the steel beam crashed onto where he had been. The gigantic impact still shook Shade off his feet and pelted him with a shower of dust and debris. With horror, Nicholas saw that the Gurdurr's attack had punched a sizable hole in the concrete pavement.
"Crusha, Stone Edge!"
Without skipping a beat, the Gurdurr lifted and swung the girder around in a murderous arc. Again, Shade managed to dive forward and under its reach in time.
"Shade, use your fury swipes!" Nicholas called out.
Snarling, the Sneasel darted into his enemy's reach before he could lift the girder again, and lashed out a vicious cut across its shoulders. He had only managed to land one hit, however, before the Gurdurr contemptuously slapped him off with a swipe of its free paw. Shade was sent staggering back, only to receive a square kick to its sternum. The black weasel Pokémon was sent rolling to the ground unceremoniously.
"Shade! You alright?" Nicholas yelped. Shade quickly clambered back upon his feet, panting and growling in frustration. The Gurdurr grinned contemptuously as it advanced on its puny foe, deftly twirling its metal beam around his arms.
"Icy Wind, Shade!" Nicholas cried. "Immobilize him!"
The black weasel, snarling in fury, puffed his chest and spat out a thick gobbet of icy gale that enveloped the fighting Pokémon. Nicholas knew that the attack would have knocked out any of the Pokémon he had faced during their long chase through the districts. And yet, he found himself staring horrified as the Gurdurr strode out from the onslaught without any visible wound on its body.
"What are you thinking, you stupid worm!?" Tuco roared with laughter, spittle flying from his mouth. "My Crusha there is a fighting type! Any ganger worth his two cents knows ice doesn't do anything to fighting! Is this how Silver Wings train their babes these days?"
Nicholas gritted his teeth, as he dimly registered his sweat running cold. What Tuco had said was true. In a straight fight, an ice and dark type Pokémon like Shade could not stand a chance against a fighting type. Factoring in the vast gap in experience between the two combatants, the picture became even more laughable. There could only be one ending to this miserable scenario.
With a triumphant roar, Crusha the Gurdurr leapt forward and slammed its weapon onto the concrete pavement. Shade barely dodged the attack in time, though the shockwave of the blow was enough to faze him for precious seconds. The Sneasel was quickly running out of stamina and room to maneuver.
"Hey, kid!" someone yelled from the side.
Nicholas turned to find, to his surprise, the lithe form of Clara Morris locked in a furious combat with a large Midnight's Children ganger. The blonde Silver Wing was clinging like a rodeo clown onto the muscled back of her foe around whose windpipe she had looped around a wire garrote. The brute was flailing and stumbling about in panic, trying to dislodge Clara even as his air supply was brutally choked out of his lungs. While maintaining a tight chokehold, Clara was shouting something to Nicholas.
"Aim for the….dons! The darn….endons!" she shouted even as she struggled to hang onto her bucking adversary.
"What?!" Nicholas shouted back.
"The tendons, you idiot! Aim for its tendons! Fighting Pokémon can't do shit if their legs are wounded! Use your Pokémon's speed to your advantage!" Redoubling her efforts on the wire, Clara and her unfortunate victim were soon lost amidst the battling crowd.
Nicholas turned his attention to the battle, his mind racing. Conventional ice attacks wouldn't work against the Gurdurr. But as Clara said, if he could just get Shade to pinpoint its weakness…. Slowly, and idea began to form inside his mind.
"Shade, charge him, and get ready to discharge another Icy Wind on my command!" Nicholas cried. Shade looked uncertainly at his trainer, but seeing the determination on the teen's face, nodded. With another fierce cry, the weasel dashed straight into his gloating foe. Crusha, even without a goading from his overconfident trainer, grinned nastily as it swung the steel beam around for a devastating swing.
"Now, Shade! Icy Wind to his face!"
Just as the Gurdurr began to bring its weapon about, the Sneasel belched a whiff of icy cold wind straight into its face. The attack, ineffective as ever, did no more than to distract the fighting Pokémon, prompting it to shut its eyes on reflex and turn away for a brief second.
But it gave Nicholas all the opening he needed.
"Now Shade! Aim for the tendons on his legs!"
Lithe as a moving shadow, the black weasel slide deftly in between the Gurdurr's legs to come out on the other side. Before his foe could turn, Shade sliced a downward stroke into the vulnerable ankles with his wicked set of claws.
The effect was immediate. With its leg muscles quickly weakening, the Gurdurr had no means to support its oversized bulk of a torso or the enormously heavy weapon it carried. With an agonized scream, the Gurdurr collapsed onto its knees as the gravity brought is sheer bulk down upon itself. Tuco, who had been gloating only seconds ago, fell into a muted shock, his jaws falling open uselessly.
"Finish him shade! Metal claw!" Nicholas shouted. Cackling in glee, Shade leapt up, and with a full twist of his torso, slammed its claw into the back of Gurdurr's head. With a sound like a clapper striking a bronze bell, the fighting Pokémon swayed and then fell forward into the pavement, unconscious and defeated.
It took a full second for Nicholas to comprehend what had happened. "We…won! We won!"
Shade, battered but victorious, screeched into the sky in triumph.
"You little wretch! How dare you!"
Nicholas' elation was quickly doused by the sight of Tuco Hell-Jaw striding across towards him, his face burning with rage.
"You dare strike a blow against me! You foolish vermin! I'll pound you to pulp and rip you apart myself! You'll regret the day you—"
"Hey, dumb-dumb, did you forget about us?"
Before Tuco could turn, his bulky form was suddenly seized by an electrical strike that shook his frame and charred his hair. The air was suddenly full of smell of burning meat and charred clothing. With a low groan, Tuco collapsed to the ground, his sledgehammer sliding out from his limp hand. Behind him stood the grinning Amber, with her trusty Pikachu sitting on her shoulder, its red cheeks still discharging electricity.
"Heh, that'll teach you to come after our wounded, you bully!" Amber quipped, before looking up towards Nicholas. "Hey, thanks for keeping him off my back while I healed up my team!"
"Thanks right back at you!" Nicholas stammered, white-faced. "I don't think I could've taken him on right there, if you hadn't saved my life."
"You kidding? I saw how you were handling yourself out there," Amber exclaimed. "Sick move you and Shade pulled off back there by the way. I'm telling you, you definitely have talent! To think, I nearly thought you would be useless as a trainer at first."
"Thanks, and—hey, what do you mean by that?" Nicholas asked.
"What I meant was—oh, crud," Amber suddenly cursed, alarmed. "More trouble."
The ground began to shake again in an ominous rhythm. Nicholas and Amber slowly turned around to see, to their horror, a familiar shape charging back into the rear of the barricade. The large Rhyhorn, the very same Pokémon the Midnight's Children used to break open the defenses, was coming back. Its baleful eyes were locked onto the two youths standing in its way.
"Oh hell," Amber gasped. "Luna, thunderbolt!"
"Icy Wind, Shade! Bring it down!" Nicholas cried.
The arc of lightning bounced off the stone armor uselessly. Even a hearty jet of ice did very little to hinder the Rhyhorn. If anything, the stone Pokémon looked even more provoked. Lowering its head, it plowed an unstoppable rampage towards Amber and Nicholas. There was simply no time to get out of the way. Nicholas could make out the millions of smallest scratches covering its armor.
A shadowy blur leapt in front of the charging Rhyhorn. It surged forth, and in an unbelievable display of strength, took the brunt of the charge in its embrace. The sheer force of the attack pushed the figure staggering back, but to Nicholas' amazement, it held firm. The Pokémon's lithe form strained with effort as it struggled to hold back the rampaging Rhyhorn.
A Hitmonchan, grimacing and grunting in equal measure.
"Use Counter now!"
The Hitmonchan reared one of its gloved fists before slamming into its foe with a titanic force. Roaring in pain, the stone rhino Pokémon was sent hurling into the air, rocketing back across the mangled barricades. Its bulk smashed two of the Midnight's Children into pulp as it crashed back onto the ground.
"Silver Wings, rally! Rally!"
Nicholas' heart leapt. Rushing into the furious melee, the bulking shape of CJ Carter sent a fresh wave of hope to the embattled gangers. His fists were already swinging, sending the Midnight's Children gangers sprawling to the ground left and right. One by one, the Silver Wing gangers found themselves renewed, with fresh cries of encouragement erupting from their throats. Injured gangers and Pokémon alike slowly climbed to their feet, lending strength to the counterattack. The enthusiasm was infectious. Without any spoken word, Nicholas and Amber cried out in triumph as they plunged forth again into the melee. The broken pole suddenly felt familiar in his hands, as Nicholas sought out and smashed the painted faces in the crowd. The expressions behind those painted faces suddenly didn't seem so confident anymore, as the Midnight's Children realized that the tables have turned. More than one fell onto their knees to cry for mercy, which the vengeful Silver Wings had none to give.
Suddenly it was all over. The very few Midnight's Children and Pokémon left standing were fleeing in wild abandon. They were discarding their weapons in a hurry to get away, some even forgetting to recall their unconscious Pokémon. The victorious Silver Wings, though too wearied to give chase, jeered and pelted debris at their retreating backs. Despite their bravado, however, every one of them knew just how close they had come to being overrun. Had it not been for CJ's timely intervention, victory would have been a massacre instead.
"Sound off!" CJ shouted as he strode through the battlefield. "Call out if you have any injuries that need to be looked at!"
One by one, the surviving Silver Wings reported their losses. Out of twelve able combatants who withstood the latest assault, seven still lived—three from Gamma, two from Eta, plus Milo and Nicholas. Two were seriously wounded and bleeding from their limbs and heads. Amber immediately rushed to attend their injuries with heavy bandages and painkillers. Amidst the wreckage, five Silver Wings lay on the ground with mortal wounds, beyond any help. Yet somehow, they had won. Despite the loose discipline that marred the initial defense, the Silver Wings had fought tooth and nail with the fury of a cornered beast.
Recalling Shade to his Pokeball, Nicholas blankly stared at the battlefield around him. Dropping his broken pole, he cautiously stepped around the battlefield to survey the damage. The carnage was terrible to behold. The barricades were littered with unconscious Pokémon, broken pieces of wooden crates, and discarded or broken weapons. Even worse was the sight of the dead and the dying. The Midnight's Children dead, far outnumbering the Silver Wing's own, lay strewn all about in a gruesome tableau. In death, once fearsome barbarians were reduced into frail and emaciated wretches that they were. Fresh blood was slowly pooling around their blank faces, frozen forever in surprise, pain, and fear. Nicholas could not find even a hint of glory. Nicholas tried to take solace in the fact that the number of defeated Midnight's Children and their Pokémon was greater than their own.
A low murmuring drew his attention. Off to the corner, Nicholas saw Liam O'Grady hunched over, softly whispering something to someone unseen. Curious and concerned, Nicholas drifted over to the veteran ganger.
"Oh, Arceus no…!" Nicholas moaned as he saw what had happened.
Propped gently up against the pile of debris was the blood-soaked form of Clara Morris, her skin as pallid as a corpse. Her blood-soaked left hand clutched weakly at a grisly wound at her abdomen. Clara shuddered and gasped with each labored breath, a thin stream of blood steadily trickling past her lips. Her eyes were wide and wandering, her pupils dilated with pain and impending loss of consciousness.
Liam, holding onto Clara's other hand with his own, was whispering something into her ear in a gentle voice. Clara's Espeon stuck close to her trainer, crying hysterically as it tried to staunch the blood flow psychically. At Nicholas' approach, Liam lifted turned his gaze. Resignation and sadness tinged his hard golden eyes.
"Is there anything we can do…?" Nicholas asked helplessly.
"Nothing," Liam croaked. "There's nothing we can do for her anymore."
"N-new….boy," Clara sputtered, her eyes fixing on Nicholas. A fresh wave of blood spat forth past her mouth.
"Please….you shouldn't talk….," Nicholas whispered in panic as he knelt down close.
"You…got…got that…b-bastard."
"I did, I did. Shade and I went for the tendons, just like you told us to."
"Goo-Good. You did….well," Clara tried to smile, even as her body was seized by another spasm. "I…am proud….we are all…proud—"
Then her head rolled over to the side and she was still, light leaving her eyes for good. Clara's Espeon threw its head into the air and let out an anguished cry. Liam sighed, and hung his head for a brief moment.
"I knew Clara since we were little kids, when our families were sharing a room in the tenements," he murmured. "She was a great friend and a hell of a ganger. I will miss her much, that I'm sure."
With solemnity, Liam reached out and gently closed Clara's eyes.
"I'm….sorry," Nicholas whispered. "I wish I had known her better. I would not have survived that battle if not for her."
"To be fair, we all knew this day was coming. I knew it. Clara knew it," Liam replied. With a flick of his wrist, he gently took the Pokeball from Clara's belt and recalled the sobbing Espeon. "Our days here are measured in fights. Perhaps, I'll get to join her soon. Tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow."
"….Another soul consigned to Arceus' embrace…."
Nicholas turned to see C.J. standing next to him, his face grim. Liam stared at the lieutenant for a while before nodding wearily.
"The Silver Wings shall honor her memory, along with everyone who had given his life in this forsaken place. We shall not forget her, Liam."
"Spare me your lectures, CJ," Liam said, before rising to his feet and trudging past him. "We all know the protocols. Let's just get on with it." A tense silence passed, filled with the awful reality of death around them.
"So, you're alive," CJ commented after a minute. "Can't say I'm not surprised. From what I gather, it was hell out there. Well done."
"I've had help…and a little bit of luck," Nicholas said. "Hope my lucky streak doesn't end now."
"Let's hope so," CJ nodded. "Anyway, come along. We're consolidating our defense in the front. Make sure your Pokémon is all healed up."
"Still no sign of rescue then?" Nicholas asked hopefully as he made his way back to the group.
"No….I suppose they'll get here when they get here."
During what brief respite they had, the Silver Wings had managed to clean up the mess a bit, moving bodies off to the side and piling up debris to make a standing but pathetic barricade to the front. Many of the food crates had been destroyed in the assault, forcing the gangers to divert the boxes from elsewhere. The already small refuge they surrounded themselves with grew even tighter.
Amber busily tended to the wounded, whose number had increased once more. The walking wounded, wrapped in bandages and slings, paced around nervously. Those very few who had emerged unscathed took up the watch duty.
"What now?" Nicholas asked.
"We stay, and we fight," CJ replied stoically. "As long as it takes for help to arrive. If they don't….well, I suppose then we leave our fates to Arceus." With a grin, CJ turned to look at him.
"Are you scared?"
"No," Nicholas quickly replied, before sheepishly changing his mind. "Well….to be honest, yes. But to be fair, I didn't think I was going to make it out here in the first place. Didn't think I would survive that fight either. So I still have a reason to hope, right?"
"Yes, of course," CJ replied. "We've lost too many good friends already. Tell me, how did others die? Barry and Milo."
Hesitantly, Nicholas recounted their perilous passage to the barricades. The image of the two ganger's death came back again, their last moments etched indelibly in his memory. He described the battles, Barry's heroic last stand, and Milo's last moments and his Pokémon's faithfulness to their dead trainer. He left nothing out, hoping the shock of the experience had not somehow distorted a crucial detail. Sometime during the tale, Liam had sidled in, quietly listening but never interrupting Nicholas' tale. CJ nodded in approval after he finished.
"Barry Kowalski and Milo Viggs were brave gangers, credits to the Theta squad," the lieutenant said. "Please remember those accounts if you can, Nick. We'd like to have someone jot them down, so that future gangers may listen to them, learn from their examples."
Nicholas nodded enthusiastically.
"CJ," Liam suddenly muttered, and nudged his head over the barricade. "Here they come again."
With sinking heart, Nicholas drifted over to have a look. Far across the Paradise Square, another mob of Midnight's Children was gathering. It only took one glance to see that the new group was much larger than the one before.
"Well, we're done for," one of the remaining Silver Wings moaned. Another began to weep softly.
"Pull yourself together," CJ said sternly. "No matter what comes, we stay together. Until the very end, as Silver Wings."
"That we are, that we are," Liam nodded, before drawing up his machete once more. "Form a line, Silver Wings! Come, you dogs, do you want to live forever?!"
The Silver Wings gave a weary cheer, before stepping to form a rough line before the ruined barricade. Compared with what forces they have started out with, their defense seemed paltry. Nicholas doubted whether they would last full five minutes.
"I'm sorry you've been dragged been dragged into this mess," Amber whispered as she took up position next to Nicholas. "I know you didn't have to be with us here."
"It's…fine," Nicholas smiled. "If anything, there's no other company I'd rather be with that you all."
If anything, Nicholas wasn't quite sure how he felt. On one hand, meeting his bloody fate in the mean streets of the Undercity seemed a tragic end to his dream, his father's dream. Still, Nicholas knew that he would at least be able to die with dignity, knowing he had not fled in the end and had done everything to uphold his family's honor. Soon, he would meet father, his mother, or perhaps Wilbur. At his feet, Shade looked up and gave a confident grin to his trainer. Seeing his faithful partner steeled Nicholas' resolve and tightened his grip around his pole.
"Alright, here they come!" CJ roared. "Let's send these suckers home with tails between their legs!"
As on cue, the mass of Midnight's Children began surging forward. Numbering dozens, the feral gangers easily outnumbered the reduced defenders. Nicholas quietly thought how heir painted faces and eager eyes made for an unfitting last sight before he met his end.
A sudden crackle of static pierced the silence. With a start, CJ snatched up the portable radio clipped to his belt.
"Come in! Is someone there?! This is CJ, leading the defense of the convoy—"
"Stop yammering, will ya, you big lug?" a low drawl, distorted by the static, emanated from the communicator. "Can't even talk through all this racket."
"Is that you, Harlan?" CJ said, a wide smile suddenly spreading across his face.
"No, it's Lance of the Elite Four. Of course, it's me, you dumb ox. You know anyone else who can double-time to this hellhole as fast as I can?"
"By Arceus, it's great to hear from you, you stinky bastard!" CJ roared in delight. "I thought you were all under deep cover in the upper levels!"
"Save the chitchat for later. Now we have bigger fish to fry. Me and my lads will take care of those trash down there, so sit back and enjoy the show." A loud crackle signaled the end of the exchange.
A gleeful murmur was spreading among the Silver Wings. The gangers' grim resignation was quickly replaced by excitement and hope.
"It's Harley! Harley Jorgensen and the Omega Squad are here!" Amber squealed with excitement. "We're saved!"
"Uh…who's Harley?" Nicholas asked.
"Why, one of the sickest, deadliest trainers we've got here on Silver Wings!" Amber replied. "He's actually the last of our chief lieutenants! A deadly expert in espionage and stealth!"
"What do you mean by….," Nicholas' inquiry was suddenly interrupted by a loud explosion rippling across the square.
From the rooftops of the surrounding cafes, several small objects had been hurled into the mass of the Midnight's Children, exploding upon impact in thick sheet of smoke or blinding flashes of light. Discombobulated by this sudden attack, the feral gangers milled about in alarm, shouting and screaming at the hidden enemy. Several gangers jerked and fell, blackened bolts suddenly sprouting from their backs.
Dark figures were suddenly jumping into their midst, having seemingly come out of nowhere. Releasing their Pokémon, these new arrivals laid into the stunned Midnight's Children with precise and lethal blows from what appeared to be long staves and blackened knives. Their Pokémon companions, each one lithe and light in form, almost seemed to mirror the fighting skills of these warriors.
They were fast. They were really, really fast. Not stemming from instinct like the Grim Reaper, Nicholas realized, but rather honed by long years of training and discipline. Somehow, that made these gangers as scary, even as they leapt, lashed and kicked. They never stayed in one place, but always were on the move after each blow. Their movements were almost a blur, their long staves leaving unconscious and broken foes behind. The Midnight's Children, stumbling around like blind men, never stood a chance against them.
All of this took less than two minutes, from beginning to end.
As the smoke cleared, the square was filled with unconscious gangers and their Pokémon. The remaining Midnight's Children fled, wailing in terror. The Silver Wings raised up a mighty roar, throwing up their fists in jubilation.
"Harley! Harley!" the Silver Wings chanted and stamped their feet as the newly arrived warriors recalled their Pokemon and swiftly began to make their way towards the barricades.
There were only seven of them, Nicholas realized with shock. Uniformly dressed in long cloaks and fatigues painted in a camouflage pattern, the Omega squad exuded confidence and deadliness in equal measure. Their faces, daubed expertly with soot and camouflage paint, were barely visible beneath their deep hoods. Most had hooked quarter-staves looped around their backs or multiple combat knives sheathed in a bandolier, though two of them carried what appeared to be hand-crafted crossbows. The gangers moved quickly and silently, their movements betraying their expert training and discipline. In a heartbeat, they mounted the remnant of the barricade. Nicholas could see the Silver Wing armbands wrapped around their biceps, with an additional symbol of an inverted "U."
CJ stepped forth and held out his meaty hand. "Good hunt, Harlan. Spectacular, as always."
The tallest of the new arrivals stepped forth, pulling back his hood as he did so. The head that was revealed sported a messy and greasy mane of dark hair that fell around a weathered face. Old gashes and swirling tattoos framed his gaunt face, punctuated by thin lips and mismatched eyes of blue and red. A stud earring of dark metal gleamed under the streetlights. Though not especially tall, his body was well proportioned and lined with taut muscles. He was flanked by a hardened-looking Gredninja who took no time taking up a lookout position on the ramparts.
"Surprised to see me here?" Harlan Jorgensen grinned as he briefly shook CJ's hand, revealing his browning teeth. "Well, I am. We were supposed be escaping from the Eisenhart Corporation with those new blueprints this very hour. But bam! I suddenly get called down to clean up this mess…!"
He quickly looked around and whistled. "And I'll say it again. What a mess! Where's that idiot who's caused all this?"
"Dead," Liam deadpanned.
"Good," Harlan grinned. "I would've killed him myself if I had the chance. I'm glad I didn't have to sully my weapon with his filth."
"I'm glad you could make it here before those maniacs did, Harlan," CJ said. "But I hope you have a plan to get all of us out of here. Not to mention what supplies we have intact."
"Of course I do. Would be funny if I didn't have one, no?" Harlan strode up to a section of the barricade with a graceful bound.
"Alright, listen up you lugs!" the ganger shouted as all eyes turned to him. "Ten minutes ago, Delta, Epsilon, and the Zeta Squads under Magda have engaged the main forces of the Midnight's Children eight blocks east of here. They will keep those maniacs occupied as long as they can while we prep up our escape. We will be forming a convoy to carry out the supplies and the wounded out of this crap-hole."
"How are we supposed to do that?" one of the Silver Wings asked. "Our truck is totaled, and we don't have any other vehicles with us at the moment!"
"Well….for a start, we have an eye in the sky…" Harlan drawled and took out his radio. "Shaniqua, bring down the bird."
A loud sound of flapping wings startled the gangers. Looking up into the sky, Nicholas saw a large Pokémon emerging from the gloom, its mighty pinions creating a strong downdraft. Debris and pebbles were sent skittering by the wind as gangers beat a hasty retreat backwards. The Pokémon landed in the clearing with a clatter of claws, and Nicholas found himself staring into an imperious gaze of a giant Pidgeot ruffling its feathers. On its back sat a cheery looking girl, her dark-skinned face framed with curly brown hair laced with a blonde weave, wearing a full communication headset.
"Hello, my babies!" the girl exclaimed as she threw out her well-manicured hands. "You all ready to get out of this dump?"
"Ready when you are, hon," Amber called back. "Good to see you! Are you here to give us all a ride?"
"Sadly, no," Harlan said. "As much as we would like, we still need to get all this food out of here. Shaniqua's going to help us carry a good portion. Here—"
Rummaging through her pack, Shaniqua handed Harlan a large, sturdy netting folded into squares. Harlan and a couple of his squad mates spread it out wide on the ground.
"Here's what we're going to do. We'll pile on the heaviest and most undamaged crates onto the netting, and have Shaniqua lift them out of here. The remainder—including the contents of all the broken crates—we'll carry ourselves and hustle it out of here. That means picking priorities, people! Bring those liquids, rice, and flour sacks over here!"
The gangers scattered, their movements suddenly urgent despite their fatigue and injuries. Aided by their Pokémon, it took only minutes to hoist a small pile of food into the netting. With a signal from CJ, Shaniqua prompted her Pidgeot to take off into the air. Despite the sheer bulk of the netted cargo, the giant bird Pokémon slowly lifted it with great strokes of its wings. In no time, the Pidgeot was hidden out of sight in the shadows of the distant ceiling.
Even after Shaniqua and her Pidgeot took off with the first portion of the supplies, there were more crates remaining on the ground.
"Shaniqua will remain airborne as long as she can, and provide us with the intelligence on enemy movements. In the meantime, here comes the fun part," Harlan said. From a nod from him, three other members of the Omega squad took out a couple of Pokeballs each and released them. In a blink of an eye, the space was filled with the enormous bulks of two Rhyhorns, two Camerupts, a Taurus, and a Gogoat. Nicholas' eyes were immediately drawn to the intricate harnesses they wore supporting enormous baskets and canvassed stretchers on each side.
"An emergency loan from the Sharma Guild," Harlan explained. "Their trade caravans had been raided by the Midnight's Children in the past. They were eager to help us stick it up to them."
"Empty out those crates and load up the baskets to the brim!" CJ shouted urgently. "And get our most seriously wounded to the stretchers! Quickly now, we don't have much time until more of the Midnight's Children return!"
"Let's not forget to carry some ourselves," Harlan added, as his remaining teammates handed out large canvas satchels to each of the Silver Wings. "We don't waste anything here on the Undercity."
The Silver Wings busied themselves in the next few minutes salvaging all they could, gathering up the food that had spilled out from ruptured crates. Nicholas, too, picked through the barricades, picking out food from the sea of debris and shaking off dust from the surface. Meanwhile, a few of the volunteers gingerly lifted the wounded to the stretchers. The bodies of the dead gangers were strapped on separately, their wounds hastily wrapped up in rags and blankets. The loaned pack-beasts bore their burdens stoically, obviously accustomed to such heavy lifting.
The foodstuff themselves were of appallingly low quality. Nicholas picked up cheap nutrient bars, canned goods with damaged labels, powdered soup packets, and mason jars filled with discolored vegetable preserves. On at least half of them, the expiration dates had been well exceeded. He knew that even the lowliest servants on the spires would starve than to touch any of these products. His nostrils stung with the stench of spoiled meat and stale breads that had spilled out from torn wrappers. They seemed poor rewards for so many lives lost.
And yet, the Silver Wings stubbornly salvaged everything short of the most damaged containers. The large baskets were soon filled to the brim with food, secured with ropes and nettings. All the gangers still able to stand on their feet had a full satchel slung around their shoulders. Even the injured gangers lying prone on the stretchers stubbornly held onto a small package of their own. Still, Nicholas saw that there was still a portion of food they would be able to take with them, most of them too damaged from the battle. These the gangers had gathered into an intact crate.
Something glinted under the pile of debris, and Nicholas cautiously stooped down to pick it up. It was knife; In fact, he was sure it was the same switchblade that the young Midnight's Children ganger was using to try and kill him. Slightly longer than the span of his hand, the knife had a black plastic handle with a rubberized grip that was worn with repeated use. The single-edged blade was free of any nicks or rust, however, and reasonably sharp. He found that he could fold the blade into the handle with a press of a spring-loaded stud, shortening the weapon by half. Nicholas grinned wryly as he tucked the weapon securely into his pocket. It was a fitting trophy, a reminder of his first victory in the Undercity.
In the meantime, Harlan had been fiddling with a metallic flat object he took out from underneath his cloak. With a nasty chuckle, the lieutenant carefully tucked it underneath the crate of leftover food, then trailed a length of semi-invisible wire from it. He then attached a clump of metallic object to the wreckage of the truck and attached the cable to it.
"What are you doing?" CJ asked.
"Rigging this thing to explode, of course," Harlan replied nonchalantly, as he twisted a couple of copper wire strands together. "When those savages disturb this crate full of bait, the pressure-sensor will trigger that hydro-phosphate explosive attached to the fuel tank. Anything standing within its blast radius will turn into a crispy barbecue."
"You're going to destroy one of our few remaining vehicles, just like that?!"
"Would you rather that the Midnight's Children gut it for parts?" Harlan said coolly.
CJ opened his mouth as if to protest, but instead held his hand up. "Fine, fine. I'll leave everything to you. Just make sure it goes off after we clear the area."
"Trust me, it'll be worth it," Harlan grinned. "Not to mention buying us more time to make our getaway."
Within a few minutes, the surviving gangers lined up alongside the convoy train, ready for final departure. All were fully laden with bags of food, with a few among them having volunteered to carry a portable stretcher behind them. Nicholas joined the convoy near the back, feeling the uncomfortable weight of the satchel tugging him down.
"Alright! Let's move out! We are almost out of this mess, people! Let's not spoil it!" CJ shouted. The massive lieutenant not only had two fully-laden food satchels looped around his shoulders, but also dragged a portable stretcher carrying a wounded ganger behind him. "Everyone keep up with the convoy and stick to the route west!"
"Oh, no, no, we're not going that way," Harlan laughed. "We're heading east. Towards where our brothers have engaged the Midnight's Children."
The gangers all gaped at the lieutenant incredulously.
"But…I thought we were supposed to be breaking away from those maniacs," Amber asked. "That's the whole point of the diversion, isn't it? Head off to another direction while others are keeping them busy?"
"The Midnight's Children may be barbaric, but they aren't stupid," Harlan replied. "That'll be exactly what they'll be expecting us to do. They'll be heading a force west and to the south to cut us off as we make our escape. But if we actually head east and break through the fighting there….they'll never expect us to pull off something that risky. Besides, it's the shortest route out of here, don't you agree?"
CJ remained thoughtful for a moment before slowly nodding. "Harlan's right. That'll be the last thing they will be expecting. Not to mention our lads can support us once we actually get there. And that's exactly what we'll do. We'll head east and try to force our way to safety."
"Besides," he added with a wry grin. "After a string of stupid stunts we've pulled today, I suppose one more wouldn't hurt."
"Better hurry up though, chief," Harlan piped up, having cocked his ear into his headset. "Shaniqua tells me that another mob of Midnight's Children are gathering a block away. We'll be overrun in no time if we stay any longer."
Without prompting, the convoy lurched into motion. Slowly at first, the group gained a momentum that had the gangers in a comfortable jog. The Omega Squad guarded the flanks, goading the pack-beasts forward and keeping watch for any pursuers. Each member, though similarly laden with food packages, incredibly managed to stay light on their feet. Nicholas envied them. The rush from earlier battle was finally beginning to ebb away, letting his fatigue creep into his body. The satchel around his shoulder felt heavier with each step, like a ball and chain.
The clatter of feet echoed into the air as the Silver Wings hurried down the boulevard. Empty derelict buildings of gray concrete loomed to either side of them like honor guards. The decrepitude of the structures unfortunately extended to the road itself, however, and Nicholas found himself having to sidestep potholes more than once. Aside from some dangerous stumbles, no one else ran into any mishaps. The convoy had cleared about three blocks when far behind them, a loud explosion suddenly split the sky open. Nicholas glanced back to see a giant fireball pluming above the buildings, laced with flying metal debris. The smell of burning gasoline wafted into the air.
"That'll show 'em," Harlan snorted. "Perhaps they will stop following us and go back to their caves with tails tucked between their legs."
His conjecture was quickly proved moot when angry cries and curses rang through the air. Soon, the entire block behind the convoy was echoing with the Midnight's Children giving voice to their rage.
"Nope, I was wrong," Harlan pouted. "Well then, I guess there is only one thing left to do here…. Run!"
Nicholas stared stupefied, but the rest of the convoy was already moving, a sense of urgency speeding them along. And so Nicholas ran, harder and faster than he had in all his life. His legs, already tired from the fight, were heavy and numb within minutes. His lungs felt as if he was breathing in flames. He was certain his shoulders were on the verge of popping out from the heavy canvas bag weighing him down. He could feel each and every callous forming on the sole of his feet, burning and rubbing inside his sneakers. In his days in the spire, Nicholas knew he would not have made the fraction of the same run.
Yet somehow, Nicholas held on. The ululating cries of the pursuing Midnight's Children proved to be strong motivators in keeping him moving. The idea of being left behind in the mercies of those savage gangers spurred him on faster. Or perhaps it was due to the sight of every other Silver Wing ganger double-timing stoically with their own burdens. Even the walking wounded did not complain or slow down, only pausing momentarily to hold each other up through the journey. The Omega Squad gangers especially remained alarmingly mobile. The fleet-footed fighters looped back and forth along the column, picking up food packets that had fallen from the baskets, urging on the other gangers, or sending a crossbow bolt or two down towards their pursuers.
Stumbling and staggering, Nicholas managed to keep up for what felt like an eternity.
When they finally reached the cordon, it was sudden. One moment the convoy was hustling down the open street; the next moment, it found itself bursting into an intersection full of fighting gangers and their Pokémon. All around the block, the Silver Wings and the Midnight's Children were locked in a fight as brutal and savage as any. Nicholas could see that both sides were even in numbers this time around, however. More than a dozen Silver Wings gangers were putting up a disciplined resistance in formation, lacking the panic shown at the barricades. The Midnight's Children fought without order, breaking against their determined opponents like a wave crashing against the cliff. In the midst of the fight, Magda stood on the back of her enormous Nidoking, calling out commands through a megaphone clutched in her hands.
"This is it, boys!" Harlan roared as he charged into the melee. "Don't stop! Punch through the formation! Push through to the other side!"
With a collective shout, the convoy plunged into the rear of the milling Midnight's Children like a spear. The first gangers they encountered had a second to stare confounded before the vanguard tore into them. Harlan and his Gredninja were among them like a wolf among sheep, lashing and swiping anyone standing before them. A sheaf of water shurikens thrown by the bubble frog Pokémon punched several Pokémon to the ground. Then the main body of the convoy crashed into the crowd, adding to the carnage. The charging column of fully laden Pokémon trampled and rammed the Midnight's Children gangers within reach, using horns, hooves, or snouts to break bones. The survivors of Gamma and Eta staggered along the rampaging beasts, swiftly plunging into the thick of the melee.
It appeared that Magda's Silver Wings had noticed the convoy's arrival. With an urgent gesture from her, the firm line of gangers and their Pokémon suddenly surged forth, tearing deeper into the Midnight's Children in an effort to create a gap. Magda reached down and whispered something into her Nidoking's ear. With a grunt, the giant reptilian Pokémon leaned forward as its prominent horn slowly began to glow. With a roar, the Nidoking charged into the Midnight's Children, leaving a carpet of trampled and skewered bodies behind. With a single swing of its tail, the Pokémon cleared out the last of the gangers blocking the convoy.
"Go, go, go!" CJ yelled. "Through the gap! Through the gap!"
By this point, the Midnight's Children had finally caught onto what was going on. With an ugly roar, the feral gangers redoubled their assault against the Silver Wings, eager to bring down the convoy before it slipped from their grasp. The Omega Squad suddenly found themselves having to fend of dozens of frenzied urchins charging towards the burdened beasts as well as the wearied members of Gamma and Eta. Aided by their Pokémon, the stealth experts kept the best part of their numbers with expert strokes of their staves and daggers.
Nicholas cried out in alarm as one of the attacking gangers rushed him with a hatchet held above his head. Before he could react, the ganger was suddenly falling down to his knees with a thrown dagger sticking from his forehead. Nicholas looked back in time to see Harlan giving him a small nod before he turned his attention elsewhere. Willing his heart to stop pounding, he took off once more into the lines. Chunks of brick, bottles, and other debris were hurled at them, and Nicholas had to duck and weave under the deadly hail. One of the survivors from Gamma, a girl no older than Nicholas, took a piece of cinderblock to the head and collapsed unconscious. Liam hurriedly swooped in and lifted the girl to his shoulders before making his way through.
One by one, the convoy swept through the gap onto the other side, relatively protected from the baying mob by the struggling members of the Silver Wings. The Midnight's Children surged again and again into the line, desperate not to let their prey slip past their fingers for good. The Silver Wing gangers held firm, however, their disciplined fighting skills and their Pokémon partners reaping a healthy tally from them. CJ remained behind at the mouth of the gap until the last of the pack-beasts came through. Having entrusted his food satchels and the stretcher to others, the lieutenant joined the ongoing fray with undiminished enthusiasm.
Nicholas kept on running until he realized no one else was. Having made their way behind the battle line, the survivors were finally pausing to catch their breath and to relieve themselves of their burdens. Some simply collapsed to the pavement, their legs giving out under them. Others busied themselves in looking after their wounded friends or checking on the food supplies securely tethered to the convoy beasts. Aside from the furious din of battle behind them, there was at last some peace. With a heavy sigh, Nicholas fell to his knees, his food satchel thumping hard against the ground. His vision spun as his heart worked overtime to supply oxygen into his body. Sweat dripped from his frail form and his muscles trembled with exertion. It was difficult even to hold onto his consciousness.
A soft purr caught his attention, and Nicholas raised his head to stare at Shade, who had once more popped out from his Pokeball. Grinning roguishly, the black weasel reached out and swiped a lock of hair that had stuck to Nicholas' forehead. Despite his exhaustion, Nicholas grinned right back.
"We did it, buddy. We made it out," he whispered as he patted his partner affectionately. "And thank you for being so awesome out there. If it wasn't for you….."
"Make way!"
Nicholas and shade looked up to see a fresh group of gangers hurrying towards them from behind. At their head was Ibrahim, flanked by a cadre of battled-hardened gangers armed and armored to the teeth with weapons and improvised body armor.
"Alpha and Beta Squads, move in! Drive them back!" the gang leader shouted. With a hearty cry, the new reinforcements swept past the recovering convoy and joined the fray. The cry of dismay told Nicholas that the Midnight's Children were about to accept their defeat. In the wake of the combatants came a throng of support staff who descended upon the convoy with medical supplies. Nicholas dimly felt hands on him, wiping away grime, patting down for injuries, and properly sterilizing the cut on his forehead. Others were struggling to keep the gravely wounded stable or tranquilizing others for further treatment at the headquarters. He saw Ibrahim inspecting each of the pack-beasts for their cargo before being joined by CJ. The relieved look on the two men's faces despite their urgent tone told Nicholas all would be well.
He saw CJ motion towards his direction, prompting Ibrahim to stare with a raised eyebrow. No doubt he would be surprised. Nicholas wondered if CJ was going to tell him all about those who did not make it out alive, brave boys and girl who had sacrificed themselves without question so that others may live on. Perhaps their deaths meant little against hundreds who lost their battle for survival down here at the Undercity. Nicholas shook his head. Their names would be remembered, their deeds retold over and over. He would make sure of it, however long as it would take.
Footsteps caught his attention, and Nicholas looked up to see Ibrahim looking down at him.
"You," the gang leader said, sounding somewhat bemused. "I thought you decided to leave us?"
"I did," Nicholas replied. With some effort, he managed to rise to his feet and return the gaze. "But then I realized….I would just end up running away again sooner or later. Thought I might try to break the habit while I could, you know?"
Ibrahim stared in silence for a moment or two before letting out a bark of laughter.
"It looks like I have underestimated you, Nick," he said with an amused smile playing around his lips. "There is more to you than meets the eye. I look forward to seeing where this takes you."
"Right…..." Nicholas said, staggering a step or two as dizziness overtook him once more. "Now then, can I grab a drink of water somewhere? I could really use a bottle right now."
R&R!