A/N: Slightly shorter chapter, but size isn't everything, am I right? I had a little trouble with where to end it, so bear with me just once! I'll make it up to you guys (probably). By the way, I can't help but wonder if I'm still leaving the audience surprised (this is a suspense-themed story after all)! So, what did you guys think of this chapter? Confusing? Elucidative? I do try not to give the entire plot right away, but I hope this chapter helps out a little. Leave me a line!

Chapter Eight:
Tricks and No Treets

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Sophie and Mike, walking ahead, did not notice, but Vincent straightened so quickly Claire thought his spine would crack. His hand was quicker than hers, quicker than anything, really, and his steelix materialized in front of them with a loud thump. Mike and Sophie turned upon hearing his greeting cry, both their eyes wide. Smile grinned, and Claire let her – she had gone cold, immobilized by shock, her numb fingers fumbling with her belt.

"Torus," Vincent said, his voice steady for once, "double-edge."

The steelix nodded, tail swishing as he slithered forward, but Smile was faster, running around his attack easily. She grinned after sticking the landing; Victor's pokéball shook in Claire's belt, waking her up from her stupor, and she released him with a shout.

"Scary face," she cried, reminded this time, but Victor did not listen, breaking into a sprint instead. Smile was wailing in pleasure as she jumped, meeting Victor with outstretched claws. Claire saw it all happen in slow motion, the steely glint of sharp nails setting Victor's shoulder alight. Like a warm knife through butter. Her migthyena's eyes were wide, wider than Claire had ever seen, and her chest grew tight – and then heavy, as a gigantic steel tail slammed up from above and barred her from seeing the fight.

The steelix – Torus – turned his head around, too slow when set against two lithe mightyena, and glanced at Vincent, waiting for an order. Claire didn't hear what the brunet replied, busy looking around. Where was the rest of Smile's pack? And, more importantly, why was she here? She had thought – she'd been sure – and what of Victor? Awkwardly limping under where Torus' tail arched in a lash, Claire heard someone calling out her name, but the protective urge was stronger, and she didn't look back to check. Where was her mightyena? That was all it mattered – she'd lost him in the confusion, and she couldn't, not Victor—no, there! Relief burst.

Torus' metallic growl flooded her ears at the same time Victor and Smile crashed into a savage hug. Claire scampered from under Torus' tail, her sides aching and hot. Victor growled, and Smile returned it, the fight a blur of white claws amidst their dark fur. Claire took a step forward, a shout at the back of her throat, but Vincent tensed beside her, looking over his shoulder, and she felt herself be pulled against him as he backtracked. Her sneakers skidded in the mud, and their wet feet caught each other – she fell over him, groaning when her rib was pressed against his chest, hard enough to steal the air from her lungs.

Nimbus flew over them with a screech while they fell, clouds spread wide around him. Claire's forehead hit Vincent's mouth when he hit the floor, and the taller boy groaned in surprise, but Claire didn't stick around to watch him, instead pushing off his shoulders and running in Smile's direction. Her chest was on fire.

Smile was under Victor – no, above – no, wait –

"Claire, don't!" Sophie was calling out, running as well, her arm over Mike's shoulders. The taller girl's voice was strained and perhaps that was what made Claire stop in her tracks, her instincts flaring.

Her hiking boots skidded, and her balance tittered, but she grabbed at Torus' heavy body and somehow managed to remain standing. Torus gave her a distracted look and resumed curling his body around them, alarmed head gyrating in every direction. Vincent was getting up from the mud, his recently cleaned nose once again bloody; he was too busy giving Torus muted directions to notice.

"What is it?" Claire barked impatiently, trying to look over his steelix and failing.

"It's a diversion maneuver," Sophie said, out of breath, the end of the steelix's tail tamping down the ground behind her as she and Mike wobbled closer. There were snarls from the outside, beyond the steel walls around them. "They use it while hunting! They want you to reach out for that small one, so they can spread us out and distract us, while they surround us from the back and—"

"Fuck," she interrupted, slamming down a hand against Torus' rings. "Okay, I – fuck, I get it," Claire added, breathing in slowly, bringing her stinging hand up to her forehead. "But I'd killed her, I – "

To say that was a mistake. Mike's pale eyes widened in her direction, realization stitched in the dots of his cheeks, and he brought his free hand up to silence her. Sophie, beside him, looked just as pale, her eyes a little wider.

"This was all about that – the – the tiny one? Are you joking? What the fuck," Mike spat, the bitterness in his voice almost palpable. Around them, Torus groaned, shifting his rings around to repel the few mightyena that had dared come forward. He didn't look back inside the ring, too concerned with the foes around them.

Vincent's face was white too, and his hands were shaking, but his arm was steady around her, and Claire – Claire felt calm. She understood now. So that was why they hadn't attacked her by the lake … it was all starting to make sense …

"You were eavesdropping?" Sophie asked then, her face the slightest shade of pink, and Claire would've liked to be the witness to that discussion if they hadn't been in the middle of a mightyena storm.

"I get it now," she said, steady, bringing her hands and setting Sophie and Mike apart as easily as if she were opening a pair of windows. "It's okay. I know what to do."

She pointed to the hill, seen even from behind Torus' tall body. Sophie's face hardened, while Mike's was just confused; Vincent's brows were knitted together, his brown eyes dark.

"At my sign," Claire said, releasing Lambert's tired, sleepy form, "you run and you don't look back. This is not a request," she added, staring Sophie down and smirking when the brunette did not fight back, "but a necessity."

"Ah, um, invention's mother isn't – " Vincent started, much to her surprise, but then lowered his voice into a confused mumble, "or, um, how was it? Um – well, a necessity – it doesn't apply here, r-right?"

"It's – necessity is the mother of invention, and it does not apply here," Sophie agreed, with a glum voice. She moved her eyes down to the floor, away from Claire's crackling cyan. Lambert growled under his breath, sounding confused. "What are you thinking, Claire?"

"We're sitting ducks out here," she said, not looking at anyone else. Her eyes were stitched upon the hill, the sacred place she'd envisioned all this time. It was so close. "This is the exact same situation as the secret bases' from before. Steel is harder than a canopy of leaves, but it will fall just the same."

Her fingers closed against Torus' body. He was cool, wet, just like the walls of Shoal Cave. She knew that cave like she knew how to win; every twist and turn of the salt rocks was her map, every nook and cranny of shells was her reward. They always explored the cave when Claire's summer vacations were coming to an end, something as simple as a pile of salt igniting surprise and delight in her whenever they found one together – and then argued over whose resulting shell bell it was.

Claire closed her eyes, swallowed thickly; her nails were digging into her palm.

From the outside, she could hear barking and the sound of Torus' rocks churning together, threateningly keeping the enemy at a distance. Her sandslash's head nodded with every bark, his internal counter going off. Knowing Lambert would take care of keeping the enemy death toll in check, Claire turned to Vincent, looked at him in the eyes, and spoke in a voice that did not shake.

"You need to use sandstorm and then dig. How far can your steelix carry you all, if you travel underground?"

Vincent's face stayed alarmed as always as he listened, although he couldn't keep the horror off it for too long. His eyes were wide as he asked: "I, um, I guess it can take us to the hiking trail, probably?"

"I don't need probability," Claire snarled, and Vincent's gaze dropped low before he could gather the courage to pick it up again. The fact he did it on his own made Claire want to breathe in, satisfied, but she didn't; she only continued looking at him, waiting for the rest.

"It can, um, it can take us all to the hiking trail, s-so you wouldn't need to – "

"Don't tell me what I need," she cut off, weaseling out of his grip and hobbling over to his back, where her backpack was waiting. Vincent tensed, then relaxed, when he realized Claire was just searching for her go-goggles. She noticed him peering at her over his shoulder, and barked: "Well? What're you waiting for? Command him!"

He looked slightly taken aback, staring at her before he turned, eyes on the ground again. Claire wrapped the elastic band of the glasses around her wrist, closing her backpack.

"Sandstorm, to follow up with a digging route. Have you been paying attention, Torus?" Vincent whispered, bowing his head closer to Torus'. The steelix nodded, and when his head lifted off the floor, Claire could finally see the pack, lingering outside the barrier with hungry eyes. Smile scurried off to enter her field of vision, tail wagging smartly around her, and then went missing inside the rest of the pack. Where was Victor? She looked at Lambert, eyes wide. It had only been minutes, but she had lost him – she couldn't lose him, not until she was dead and buried and –

Lambert straightened and gave her a nod, claws starting to vibrate.

"Find him, and back him up. I'll send Capucine to you eventually."

Vincent didn't hear, but Sophie, a few feet away, looked alarmed at the words. Claire glared at her, daring her to talk back, but Sophie didn't say anything. She didn't look away from Claire's eyes, her brown eyes wide and unwavering, but she also did not say a word of objection.

The silence weighed.

It was the first time, Claire realized, that the other girl had no brilliant plan to get them out of danger. The satisfaction Claire couldn't help but to feel was warm and almost made her forget the rain; but the dread was larger, colder, the fact that their genius strategizer was completely mute weighing down on her like a block of bricks.

Did that – did that mean this was their one chance?

The moment passed. Claire looked away from Sophie, directing her sandslash; Sophie looked away from Claire, her hair fanning out and hiding her face from sight.

"If he is ignoring personal safety in order to prioritize offense, kill the mightyena he's dealing with and return to me at once. Bring back Victor, even if you have to faint him first."

The eyes of the group were on her now. Lambert was analyzing her order still, but he eventually nodded. It was a measured nod, a question: are you sure? Claire was. Nodding back at Lambert, ignoring Mike's attentive, confused eyes, ignoring Sophie's pallid face, she forced herself not to think of anything at all. Had Sophie realized it yet? Claire's stomach was tight like a yarn ball, probably waiting to be unraveled. She swallowed in thick, and gave Vincent a look. He blanched, but nodded at Torus anyway.

Torus' alarmingly fast rings were grinding into the ground, bringing up the dust even in the rain. It was a powerful sandstorm; she felt jealous that the heavy rain couldn't spray it down, and then swallowed her anger, made a promise to train even harder once she got home, Lilycove, wherever was safe.

Her eyes were stinging. Claire blamed the sand, but didn't know the exact reason herself, and that made her want to punch something until it fell apart in her shaking hands.

She opened her fingers, took a breath, and continued.

"When I release Océane, begin digging. I'll join you as soon as I recover my mightyena, I promise," Claire said, and didn't know whether she was lying or telling the truth, herself. Vincent took a step forward, his right hand twitching like he wanted to do something with it.

"I – " he started, closing his fist, his brown eyes filled up with hope. There was a pause, slightly awkward, reminding Claire of the dramas that were on Sunday afternoons.

Her father loved watching those at breakfast, over pancakes and orange juice – and despite the frequent complaints from his offspring, they'd never once thought to turn the Sinnoh soap operas off. Claire bit down on the inside of her cheek.

"You promised," Vincent eventually managed, in a tiny voice, dropping his gaze to the floor and his hand to his thigh. Claire's chest tightened almost painfully, the bile rising up her throat.

"Yeah," Mike said, grinning hard and using his hand to do what Vincent had not managed. Claire looked at his fingers, around her own, tight and warm. "Just 'cause you're using this trap as a way to defy Mrs. Masters' plans over there doesn't mean you get to die, Colonel."

Sophie rose one eyebrow at the sound of her last name, but eventually nodded, fishing out her glasses only to wipe them clean and dry. They were dripping wet the moment after, and Sophie clicked her tongue, set them back in her collar once more.

"We'll be waiting for you," she said, and nodded, placing a soft hand on top of their combined ones. "Don't lose."

"I've never lost," Claire lied, and grinned, the sandstorm finally enveloping them all. Vincent's eyes were on hers to the end, an unreadable expression on his frowning gaze. Then, Mike and Sophie's hands left hers, the warmth replaced by the icy rain pelts, and Torus' roar filled up the air.

Claire put her go-goggles on, tried to shield the rest of her face from the sandstorm with her free hand, and then released Capucine's weary body. The cacturne made a sleepy, confused sound at her, mimicking her and hiding her face away from the dirt.

"Your evasion has been upped, Capucine," said Claire, who wanted nothing more than to apologize for constantly putting her pokémon in danger, "so you are to kill as many mightyena as you can. Keep a close track of your energy and hit points and return to me as soon as you hit one-quarter. Your priority is to bring back Victor and remain alive."

Capucine did not even blink, instead nodding and disappearing into the thick dark mist without as much as a second wasted. Claire turned on the ball of her foot, clipped Océane's ball out of her belt, and threw it up in the air. The earth under her feet rumbled, throwing her to her knees and hands. Her ankle drummed with a regular, pulsing pain. The sandstorm around them whipped back and forth, and she gasped, swallowed a handful of dirt.

Océane ravaged a running column of mightyena with a colossal, lazy tentacle; the fastest ones escaped under and over it, aiming for the underside of her stomach. They were blocked by another tentacle, and Claire –

Claire was coughing so much, she thought it wouldn't be long before she started heaving the sparse cookies she'd eaten. She still fumbled for her belt, mouth dry and tasteless. Somewhere, Capucine howled, and the sound of twigs snapping broke Claire's concentration.

"Cap—" she tried, distracted with panic, but broke down in a coughing fit, the dirt inside her mouth arresting her lines and bubbling up into mud. Claire spat, feeling disgusted, and dragged her wrist across her mouth. With a glance, she noticed the skin had grown darker. "To me, Capucine!" she eventually managed, but her voice was weak and the sentence broke in the middle. Claire bit her lip, coughed once more; her throat burned.

Capucine was at her side after long seconds, breaking through the cloud of dirt with wide steps. Seeing her made Claire feel lighter, so she wiped at her eyes in relief, and grinned through the dust on her mouth.

"You know," Claire started, voice rough and wheezy, "I never thought I'd say—"

Her cacturne startled, reaching for something behind her. Claire's voice died in her throat, a wispy, wet gasp in the middle of a windstorm.

The pain blossomed through her left rib and up her chest like a burning wave, and Claire found that she couldn't breathe, she couldn't speak; she could only reach for Capucine's arms and hope that her cacturne would be aware of the apology in Claire's closing eyes.

Je t'aime, papa, et je suis désolée, was what she thought, and then: nothing.

I'm sure this cave wasn't here last year, Darwin thought, staring at the outside pathway with wide eyes. If he looked at the trees—standing powerful and tall outside the mouth of the cave, their barks dark in the dim dawn light—he could almost tell Tony's blood apart from the wooden brown.

He looked at the pathway again.

The rain hadn't let up yet; with a hollow satisfaction twisting up his gut, he wondered if it ever would. Things might've not gone according to plan on their end, but surely – surely the Boss had managed to finally triumph over Mother Nature. Darwin's weary eyes climbed up from the rain to the white, furious skies, to the sunlight aching to burst the clouds apart. And yet, why ... ?

There was a sharp noise from the back of the cave, and then an inquisitive voice called out. Darwin looked over his shoulder; Sarah had woken up from her impromptu nap, it seemed.

"I'm here, I'm goin'," Darwin called out, into the darkness. Sarah's frantic response was lost in the echoes, and so he sighed and got up from his spot on the rocks. It was a good spot, overlooking the forest beneath – and the cave's small, subtle size would help them throw off those goddamn mightyena, or so Darwin had hoped upon finding it.

Then again, the foul animals did have their scent – no, Darwin steeled himself, feeling his pulse drumming, he wouldn't think of that. He let his thumb skim his wrist instead, feeling the vein twitch under the pad of his finger.

… Was it the orb's influence? They had only carried it to Archie, but his body was still reeling in the effects of the stupid thing. He brushed it off; it didn't matter how his body was reacting, only that it was still alive and warm and intact.

Sarah was touching at her neck when he came close. Tony's blood had dried there, and when she scratched, the stain fell apart like bits of flaking nail polish. The tips of her red hair were clotted together by her ear, too, and Darwin almost failed to squash the urge to fix it for her, to at least clean it up a bit.

"What the hell happened? Is this blood? It itches like a – "

"Tony's dead," Darwin said, watching Sarah's face twist into something hollow. Her hand fell to her lap, near her bruised stomach.

They'd had their winter uniforms in their bags, but the mightyena pack had forced them to leave them behind. At least it was warm out, and they'd managed to dry off somewhat after Darwin had miraculously found his lighter in his pocket. But the lack of fabric in her uniform didn't hide the marks, and Darwin felt the guilt throb at the sight of purple and dark-yellow.

"What?" she managed, voice tiny for once. He looked away from her face, but resisted the urge to close his eyes. "Did you – are you – are you sure?"

"He's dead, Sarah," Darwin interrupted, because he'd seen, and then that familiar ache trickled into the space between his eyes once more. He wouldn't cry, though. Sarah needed him not to cry, he knew it, she needed to hold onto a semblance of pride and swallow everything up until she was alone in her quarters.

So Darwin wouldn't cry.

"We're gonna hafta hold out in here until – "

"Until what?" Sarah spat, clutching her pants' knees. The fire beside her crackled and popped. "Archie's not gonna come get us, Darwin! He didn't send reinforcements when we – when Tony – fuck," she groaned, burying her face in her knees. "This is some bullshit," she added, in a muffled voice.

"Until the storm passes," Darwin completed, in a mutter. "Or until those mightyena find what they're looking for."

Sarah brought her eyes to his, and then looked behind him, her stare glassy.

"You mean never," she muttered back, and he almost didn't hear her over the pit-patters outside. Her face was as pale as the sunlight, and the bruises on the left side of her face jumped out even more at him.

Darwin sighed, heavy and final; he didn't know what to reply to that, so he just sat by her side, feeling that hollowness inside his chest grow deeper.

They watched the falling rain without a word.