Steel (Poke)Ball Run
Chapter 17 – VS CURIOSITY
Retiring for the night was Johnny and Gyro. Time of sunset was approximately five minutes past six. They were probably fifty kilometres out from the first waterhole. Though their current rank in the race was first, at the time of them making camp anyway.
As sunset had closed in and with frivolous colours, it danced through the sky. It turned the land an eerie black and the sky a fervent red. With night so close, it was time to make camp. Their Mounts remained out of their PokeBall and all of them were sheltered by a cluster of rocks and taller trees. A meek fire had been kindled but it was enough to keep them warm. Gyro had been tasked more camp-related duties, mostly so that the break would give Johnny time to revisit the lesson on the Spin he had received yesterday.
Johnny studied the cork in his hands carefully. His eyes ran along the lovely script engraved upon its crown; "Champagne", it read and still faintly smells of. He held it close to his face. He had the image of the Spin engraved in his mind so he knew what he was after. He was after superimposing the images of a spinning leaf or a twirling dancer onto this cork.
He focused intently on that image. He concentrated hard on moving the cork. At first, it was a slight twinge upon his skin but soon, Johnny managed it. It lifted off his pal and spun before his eyes. It was wobbly and uncertain but it spun. His eyes widened. Johnny tried his best to control it but it was like the rotation had a mind of its own.
The cork flew up along his arm. He grinned.
'Gyro! Gyro!' he called. 'It's spinning!'
Gyro may have made a noise but he just continued to stand around, staring out into the distance clotted by trees and rocks.
Johnny frowned and he utterly failed to keep the cork near him. It spun off his shoulder and seemingly disappeared into the dusky air. Johnny figured he would find the cork later, it couldn't have gotten that far. He half rolled over, to be a little closer to Gyro who was on the other side of the fire between them. He started to call out again.
'What, Gyro! Weren't you watching? You didn't see me, did you? Why weren't you watching, it was great! It really spun, the cork!' Johnny pestered Gyro. He sounded rather close to an overexcited child.
'Why do I have to watch you all day?' Gyro asked, a tad annoyed-sounding. 'You really did it, huh? Well then, do it again.'
'Uh, oh, shit.. Where is it?' Johnny muttered to himself.
He inspected his bags and around the rocks but it shouldn't have flown off too far. There were too many barriers in its way to have done that. Johnny straightened up and tried to remember which way it had flown off to.
He heard a funny noise and felt something slimy down his back. He looked up and his Zebstrika was hovering quite close. It's tail flicked about. His blood ran cold as he tried to work out what was sitting between his skin and shirt. A little bit of panic took over when he saw the cork, next to his knee, sitting innocently on the ground.
'What was that… Oh no, please tell me the cork didn't go up my Zebstrika's ass!' he yelped.
'Shush, Johnny.' Gyro hissed. He nodded his head in the direction he was still facing. 'There's someone coming towards us.'
Johnny half-turned around and peered over the rocks he was resting against. He squinted into the distance. There was a definite, mounted figure down there, against the sunset and trees.
'You reckon this guy is planning to run the whole night?'
'It'd be too bloody dangerous, in my opinion. He might be coming this way, actually.'
Gyro turned towards Johnny. In the low light, the sharpness of his face was accentuated. He looked somewhat scary like this, no, grave.
'You said this route is filled with "weirdos"... did you bring a weapon with you, Johnny?' Gyro asked.
'When you say "weirdos", you mean guys like Mrs. Robinson, right? Because that was by chance.'
'You think so? We're popular candidates for Champion, after all, Johnny. Anyway, if you have a weapon, get them out now. If he comes to close, we'll drive him back.'
Gyro turned away from Johnny. A slight breeze caught his cloak, it fluttered slightly with the leaves surrounding them. Johnny hesitantly began to rifle through his stuff.
'Uh, well, I did bring a gun but I've never fired it before.' he admitted. 'You know, just in case.'
As Johnny went through his own stuff, his eye was caught by the bag Gyro had left behind. It was just a small messenger bag type thing, made from canvas and a brown-green in colour. It had half opened and its contents were slowly sliding out, into view. Johnny couldn't help but let his gaze stray to the documents and some sort of case.
A metallic case that was a deep, royal purple with a fleur-de-lis coat of arms rested on some papers. The papers were aged slightly but new enough. They seemed from a newspaper. No, definitely from a newspaper: a black-and-white face peered out anxiously from beneath the metallic case. Next to that face, that child's face, was a headline: "Boy given death sentence for treason".
Johnny quietly put down his own thing. He knew he shouldn't have let his curiosity get the better of him but he began to slide the documents from Gyro's luggage closer to him. He discovered it wasn't as a case, it was a letter holder than bore that fleur-de-list crest. Johnny recognised it as the sort of thing that usually given to people with explicit permission from blue-blooded lords from overseas. It was a treasure. Johnny swallowed. Was it possible that Gyro was some kind of thief?
Curiosity turned to dread but Johnny continued to discreetly go through Gyro's things. Johnny softly tugged on the newspaper beneath the letter holder. He caught sight of another headline. It read: "Officer Zeppeli protests against boy's guilt". And suddenly, the mystery thickened. Was it possible that this Gyro Zeppeli was related to the the "Officer Zeppeli" from the headline?
'Weren't you taught better growing up?' Gyro's voice thundered behind Johnny. 'It's not polite to go through people's things.'
Johnny turned around and Gyro had been right behind him. Right above him, almost. But now, he had already walked off. Johnny grabbed his things, tried to mask his guilt.
'I wasn't lookin' through nothin'!' Johnny lied. 'But you… Who are you? You're not from Unova, I know that much!
'You should stick to going through your own luggage.' Gyro warned.
The flames crackled in front of him. His voice had been low and Johnny had been thoroughly silenced. At least outwardly. Inwardly, he was festering with all sorts of questions about Gyro Zeppeli.
Why was Gyro able to use the Spin?
What was the Spin's origin?
What was Gyro's origin; his roots?
Was Gyro trying to save that boy all by himself?
Were these questions related? Or was it all coincidences?
Johnny studied Gyro's profile. Johnny's hadn't noticed before but Gyro had a very strong profile, a large nose but handsome eyes with long lashes. He was so aloof and angered. Understandable, obviously but still. It wasn't quite like him. This was the guy who had almost gotten them lost earlier today and was constantly using bravado to hide concerns and similar. Then again, this was the guy who had let his Pokemon beat a man to within an inch of his life. So Johnny was all the more unsure of just who he had befriended here, for lack of a better word.
Gyro couldn't stay silent forever though. At least in general anyway. He spoke up after what felt like forever.
'That guy really is coming this way.' he stated.
His voice was at neutral. So if he was still mad at Johnny, it was somewhat disguised or muted right now.
'Looks like the balloons have landed… That might mean this route just became applicable for race interference. We shouldn't let him come closer.' Gyro said.
That was more than enough reason for Johnny to get in a scramble. He coaxed his Zebstrika closer. It lowered his head for him and with a mighty heave-ho, Johnny flipped himself onto his mount's back. He got comfortable quickly enough, his eyes darted about though.
The guy drew in a little closer and Gyro decided that was close enough. He raised his arm and given the blackness that covered him due to the sunset, despite having an empty hand, he did look armed from a distance.
'All right, stop there!' Gyro yelled. 'Don't come any closer!'
The Trainer, mounted on a Zebstrika, still came in. His mount was a bit downcast, walked with almost a limp.
'I'm talking to you!' Gyro yelled. 'I told you to stop right there!'
'D-Don't shoot, I mean no harm! I only came here 'cause I saw the fire.'
A raggedy adolescent Trainer became known to Johnny and Gyro. He looked a tad younger than Johnny but with his pimply face and scrawny stature, it was hard to tell. He looked dirty. He wore a shirt with a ring target sewn onto it. He still kept drawing in closer.
'Meaning harm or no harm is something I'll judge once you leave!' Gyro warned.
The boy revealed his hand. He was quaking like a leaf and sweaty. On his left hand, he had two fingers swollen to the size of sausages and just as pink in colour. His wound looked grotesque.
'This is… This is real bad! I was squatting down and taking a dump by a weird-ass bush when it attacked! It covered me in some sort of powder and my I tried to block with my hand and now it won't stop swelling.' he explained, panic rising through his voice.
He dismounted and limped towards Johnny and Gyro. As pathetic as he seemed, he still had the ability to be a threat.
'Why're you gettin' off your mount, asshole? Don't make me tell you stay away more than once!' gyro warned.
He still continued to walk lamely towards them.
'Wait,' Gyro remembered something that youth had said, 'Hey, Johnny, did he say he was attacked by something?'
'Uh, something like that…' Johnny replied. He was still tripping up on that "bush" part of his description.
'A poisonous plant! It was hiding in the bushes, it, um, looked more like a mushroom! Please let me use your fire to burn my wound clean!'
'It could be a fake wound.' Gyro worried.
'Or it could be a very real attack from a Foongus.' Johnny pointed out. 'Once you're poisoned from one of them, if you don't clean and cure the wound immediately, you've only got one day left on your calendar.'
Gyro huffed. 'Too bad, go and wait for a medic to catch up. Drop outta the race.'
'What're you talking about? There's no way any of the covered wagons will be coming out this way at this time. Please, I'll be dead before dawn.' He fumbled with a knife. 'After I cut off the poison, I want to clean it so gimme some fire.'
Johnny became slightly more panicked. 'Are we just gonna let him die?'
'I - I dunno. He's a strange guy. I don't trust him…' Gyro replied.
But he didn't like the idea of letting some random guy who hadn't attacked him die. That was just cruel, unprovoked. Gyro grabbed a stick off the ground and shoved it into the fire. The tip quickly caught alight. He pulled it back and began to calmly approach the dismounted, young Trainer.
'I won't let you come near us but I will give you this to use.' Gyro said.
The Trainer dropped to his knees and cried tears of joy and relief.
'Th-Thank you! Thank you! Thaaaank you!' he cried.
But then, he did the unthinkable. He fluidly removed his belt from around is waist. His tears dried and ceased his hysterics. He backed away from the fire and collapsed by the trunk of an aged tree. He was calm as he wrapped his belt around his neck and slung the other end over a branch. As he strung himself up, he began to choke and sputter.
'Hey, what're you doing?' Gyro panicked as he came closer.
'Anesthesia. It's anesthesia. I'm gonna need it as a pain-killer whilst I cut my poisoned fingers off.' He grinned a wobbly grin, there were traces of lust in his eyes. 'I invented this way of doing it myself. It's outta this world. But don't ever try it… Normally I just let girls strangle me.'
He took a breath. Gyro raised his guard whilst Johnny flinched. Neither of them could have possibly prepared for the full extent of his Trainer's apparent insanity.
'Just before I pass out!' he declared on the top of his lungs.
He hoisted down his belt and frothed at the mouth. His eyes rolled in different directions. And yet, remained coherent enough to strike through his swollen fingers. He lopped them clean off.
Johnny's stomach wretched. 'What the hell? He cut his fingers off! A Foongus must've poisoned him for real!'
'I really didn't need to see this sort of thing before going to sleep.' Gyro said through gritted teeth.
He cautiously got closer to the unconscious body. He had his lit branch poised and ready to poke and prod. But, in the end he decided to lob it at the guy.
'Here's your fire, now just get the hell out of here!' he yelled, disgusted.
Johnny clamped his hands over the saddle. He raised himself a little higher, to get a better view of what was going on.
'It doesn't seem like he's moving anymore.' he commented.
'Yeah, of course. You'd definitely die if you did that! He might've really done himself in with the strangling.' Gyro said.
Still, he thought he better get closer still yet. The fire was still contained, burning out of the branch despite the leaflitter. It must be too wet to ignite or something. The Trainer's bloodied knife had been dropped on the ground. It seemed strangely ominous but nowhere near as odd as the opened PokeBall that had tumbled out of the Trainer's pocket.
'Hey, wake up!' Gyro yelled, he gave the Trainer a kick to the side for good measure. 'I'm sorry I was so hard on you when you were poisoned. But we don't want you lying over here all night either. Just get up and go!'
He was as pallid and stiff as a corpse at this point. Drool and foam leaked from his gaping lips. His neck seemed to be bent the wrong way; his head lolled. Gyro poked his limp body with his toes.
'Surely he's not dead…'
'Hey, Gyro, I think I found his name on the racer list.' Johnny piped up. He was holding a folded-up piece of paper. 'I think he might be Andre Boom Boom. Number C-450, oh and he placed tenth in the first stage.'
Gyro felt his foot tingle. He glanced at the knife and then to the PokeBall. The PokeBall had opened and with that seemingly insignificant fact, Gyro couldn't help but become on guard. He glanced down at his boot; his eye widened. He hadn't even noticed but the top of his boot had become shredded in a perfect, even swipe: two, distinct sections but it didn't hurt. It just tingled.
'And this Boom Boom, hang on, wait a minute…' Johnny continued. A pitch of concerned turned his voice upward. 'Ninth place is Benjamin Boom Boom and look here: eleventh place is L.A. Boom Boom. Three of them! With the same last name! He's not alone; a family?'
Though Johnny was being loud, it was not Johnny's voice that had caught Gyro's ear. When Johnny quit talking, he noticed it too. Both of them trained their ears on the sound of pounding hooves; at least two mounts. As soon as they turned their heads, from the darkening distance came to figures, bolting towards them. Their silhouettes distorted by the flames that trailed along the necks of their mounts: a pair of Rapidash.
It would appear that a family reunion would unfold in the next few minutes.
'Is my Bro Andre dead?' screamed the scraggly red-head of the two. 'Daddy, do you really think Big Brother is dead?'
'Oh shut up!' the presumed Father roared back. 'Men don't cry! But that Gyro Zeppeli! He carefully didn't approach Andre til the very end; Andre's giving it all he's got, too! Number Three knows exactly what to do in this situation!'
'Who the hell are these guys? They're coming right at us!' Johnny yelped.
'They're a three man team, by the looks of things. Probably aiming for the top prizes. If they're going to charge at us… Then Johnny, look 'em straight in the eye and challenge 'em to a Pokemon, if they fail to comply with the rules in the handbook, well just shoot 'em with yer gun! I'll take the one on the right!' Gyro yelled.
He was about to charge at them, his fingertips grazed the top of one of his PokeBalls, but something stopped him. A shooting pain pierced through the entirety of his foot; from beneath the sole straight through the flesh. He looked down, bit back the pain, and saw two claws penetrating his foot
'What the…?'
It would appear that the Pokemon battle had started the moment Andre had dropped his PokeBall under the suffocation induced stupor.