Every single person who has read this far is a hero in my book. I'll say that much. Because I've been on summer break, I've been able to write a lot more. That might change when I go back to college in a few weeks; who knows?

If you are enjoying this story, I would love if you reviewed it. As of writing this author's note, nobody has done so. I would like to at least know what my readers think about Escape from Thunderhead thus far, and feedback will be taken into consideration.

That's all for now, but happy reading!

"What the hell!" I bellowed, not caring to phrase that in the form of a question.

The words came out in English, albeit in a more childlike dialect. I considered this a good sign since I still had some semblance of human vocal cords, though they wouldn't be helpful if I couldn't get to shore.

Speaking of the shore, it didn't seem to be getting any closer. The current pushed me parallel to the land about half a mile away. Without some effort on my part, the boat would not reach terra firma.

So I crawled over to the engine. This task itself was pretty rough, just like the churning sea beneath the boat. Having four legs (for that's what seemed to be the case now) was a significant nuisance.

I wasn't terribly tech-savvy; I certainly hadn't driven an inflatable boat like this one, even if I'd seen it done before. But sometimes, you have to do things you don't have the nerve to perform. You must rely on "innate knowledge" to the extent that such a thing exists.

The engine had a red coiled wire attached to it. From what I'd seen on that lake back in the States, this wire was meant to be coiled around the driver's wrist, and it would stop the engine if the driver went overboard. This wire would make injury less likely.

I looped the cord around my front left paw (yes, it was a paw now, not a hand) and tugged on the engine to get it to start.

And the result?

The wire fell off the engine, and this was a big problem. Not only was it a safety issue, but the machine, as far as I knew, wouldn't start if the wire wasn't attached.

"Well, that didn't work," I muttered. And then I began talking to myself, narrating the actions I took next.

"I need to reattach the cord…oh wait; I can't. My fine motor skills are even worse now. So I guess I'll have to hope the wind changes."

But the sea breeze did not alter its direction, which made me realize that I would need to do this the old-fashioned way. My arms already ached at the mere idea, but if it saved my life and got me to shore, I had no better option.

Someone had tucked two oars into the bottom of the boat, so I grabbed both of them and tried to sit on the small bench the boat contained.

I took deep breaths. I had to do this carefully since it was more like rock climbing than walking, except this time I had no rope or harness - I could not mess up.

Clambering onto the bench, I then sat down, which caused my eyes to water as an apocalyptic pain made itself known in my behind.

"Oh, my ass!" I yelled, not caring if anyone heard me. If someone did hear me, that would be a plus. Maybe the Coast Guard would come and save me.

Seriously, the pain was so great that I could hardly breathe. It made me want to vomit, and the dinghy's rocking didn't exactly help matters.

But I couldn't give in to my nausea yet. I grasped both oars as best I could and made a rowing motion with my arms. It was just like using one of those rowing machines in gym class, except with much higher stakes.

Progress was slow. The oars barely skimmed the water at first. It took practice and patience, two qualities I possessed only sparingly. Within minutes, my arms burned from the effort, but the coast did not appear closer.

My breath came in short pants by this time, and my small size didn't make the rowing any easier. There'd been a rowing club at school that I could have joined - so why hadn't I?

It's simple: I didn't think I would need those skills. They say hindsight's 20/20, but it's more like 20/200!

It became clear pretty soon that this wasn't going to work. The currents were pushing me further and further from my goal, and I didn't think I'd be able to get back on track. And then that little inkling popped into my head.

I sighed. This option might be tantamount to suicide. But if I got tired, I could always float on my back until I regained the strength to keep paddling.

With one giant leap, I cleared the boat's edge and splashed into the sea, the dinghy drifting off into the distance. It would probably wash up on some distant shore, somewhere over the rainbow (figuratively speaking), and I'd never hear about it again.

The water itself was a lot colder than I'd expected. It took my breath away at first, and it was all I could do just to keep my head above the surface.

I started kicking myself (again, it's just a figure of speech) for having been so impulsive as to jump. It was a decision I could not take back; even if I could swim fast enough to catch up with the inflatable boat, climbing back in would be near impossible.

To make matters worse, swimming isn't the easiest to do when you're an unknown type of creature with four legs. The only stroke I could manage was a very undignified "doggy paddle" of sorts. It wasn't flashy, but only God above (if He even existed) would be watching, so who cares?

The waves threatened to pull me under. The chilly waters stole my energy; each time my head breached the surface, it did so by a slightly smaller margin.

It was undeniable: I was losing steam. And then the instinctual fear of drowning kicked in, another scenario for which I should have been more prepared. This lack of planning was becoming a common theme here.

I flipped over onto my back, which was easier said than done, and just floated there for a minute. The sun was almost directly overhead, but the air didn't feel hot. Or maybe that was just because I was growing used to the water's temperature.

The waves pushed me in one direction, then another. It was as though the entire ocean was contained within a giant bowl, and some evil deity shook it back and forth, causing the water to slosh all over the place. If I survived the day, I never wanted to visit a wave pool again.

I can't give up.

But the peaks were growing white caps now. Slowly but surely, I was being dragged under by my exhaustion. Even if I flipped onto my back now, I doubted I'd be able to keep my head above the surface.

And then I had an idea.

Just keep your head above the water, Lucas. Don't focus on anything else. Just tread water; eventually, the waves will send you to shore!

I thought back to taking the swim test as a kid. It was mandatory to pass the test if you wanted to venture into the deep end of the town pool, and it required a two-minute interval of treading water. And at age 8, I'd thought it was a challenge.

But now, with a much more extended period and far rougher waters, I would have given anything to return to that. Just give me a reprieve from one of those exacerbating factors, and I'd be golden.

Sometimes, when your back is against the wall, you don't know what you're truly capable of doing. Adrenaline is one hell of a drug.

I kicked my stubby little legs with all the force I could muster. I tilted my head upwards so that my mouth, at a minimum, would be able to breathe air rather than swallow seawater. And I kept it up for some time.

I don't know exactly how much time it was, but eventually, one of my back paws scraped against a rock. With a grimace, I fell flat on my face.

On solid ground.

Given how much my faceplant hurt, I didn't spend much time celebrating that I'd made it to shore. Instead, I nursed the biggest headache of my life for well over a minute.

Once I felt coherent again, I knew it would make sense to go further up the beach, away from the water. I didn't want to get washed out again.

But when I stood up, all my remaining adrenaline left my body. It was all I could do simply to stagger away from the sea for a few steps and then into the nearby sparse forest.

And then I collapsed to the ground, my legs unable to support the rest of my body any longer. It was much like when you have a fever and feel weak and shivery, and your legs feel much lighter (or sometimes heavier) than usual.

It didn't take me long to sink into a deep slumber after that.

Ferguson: Upon awakening in the dinghy, what was your first thought?

Defendant: With all due respect, Your Honor, I think I already told you that. I imagined someone kidnapped me, but I dismissed that thought within a minute or two.

Ferguson: And you say it didn't take long to discover you were no longer human? An unbelievable story, I'd say.

Defendant: I know what happened, Your Honor.

Ferguson: There's no need to keep calling me "Your Honor," Mr. Teller. More to the point, what creature did you suspect you had become? You claim to have been interested in Pokemon all your life.

Defendant: Well, I guess I looked like a lion cub. It occurred to me that I might be a Litleo, though I didn't fully put two and two together at first. I think I was too focused on trying to stay afloat.

Ferguson: You claim that you saw land in the distance. An island, perhaps?

Defendant: I didn't say that. I didn't know if it was an island or not. Maybe it was a continent.

Ferguson: Were you excited to have left the United States for the first time?

Defendant: I didn't know what country it was; maybe it was just a dream. Part of me still wishes it had been.

Ferguson: That does not answer my question.

Defendant: Well, it could have been Hawaii, I suppose, though I'm pretty sure the ocean there isn't supposed to be so cold. Don't the tropical currents keep it from going below a specific temperature?

Ferguson: This isn't about your interest in weather, Mr. Teller. Let's get back on track here.

I slept dreamlessly for what felt like a long time. Only later would I have to worry about where I'd ended up and where I would go from here.

When I awoke, my entire body felt hot, as though I'd been sitting in front of a furnace for a while. I felt woozy, and I was sweating bullets. My head weighed more than the rest of my body put together.

My eyes resisted opening; it hurt to do so, as though the bright lights were just too much.

I must be sick, I told myself. I've got a high fever, so someone is taking good care of me. Because of my headache, it hurts to open my eyes. And soon, Mom will come in with a cool washcloth, and she'll wipe all the sweat off me.

What was that dream about, again? I was in a small boat out to sea, trying desperately to reach land. And I was a lion cub, or a Litleo, not a human.

"Let him down gently, Chief! He's waking!"

Panic rose within my throat as I forced myself to survey the scene. And I soon realized why I felt the way I did.

My body had been hung upside down, twenty feet above the ground. This position explained why I had such a blinder of a headache; all the blood in my body was rushing directly to my cranium.

The sun had gone down, and the ground was illuminated only by the most massive bonfire I'd ever seen. Several lion-like creatures sat around it, singing a song I couldn't quite make out. They might have been singing in tongues, though it had been a while since my parents had made me attend church.

One of the lions was gradually turning a wheel, which must have attached me to a rope. How did I know this, you might ask?

Well, the answer's simple: With each wheel motion, I descended just a little closer to the pit!

I screamed louder than I'd ever screamed before as the fire got closer and closer, as my body grew hotter and hotter. I was going to cook at this rate - which, of course, was probably the intention of my captors.

"Make the announcement, Leopold!" one of the lions roared, barely loud enough to be heard over my panicked wails.

"I, Village Elder Leopold, do not grant foreigners the benefit of the doubt! This Litleo came across our domain, and he will pay dearly for trespassing!"

They were talking about me. I would pay for having no choice but to swim for this land.

"Stop!" I yelled. "I didn't mean to!"

The lion turning the wheel paused this action. Now I was about ten feet above the firepit.

"Please tell me why we should spare your life," the creature replied, licking his claws. "Everybody who breaks one of our laws receives the same fate, and they all beg. Please tell me what makes you any different."

"Because I'm innocent! I just washed up ashore!" I screamed. I was going to say anything they wanted, anything that might scare them out of killing me.

"Again, that's what they all say," the lion working the wheel responded threateningly. "The burden of proof is on you to show why we can trust you."

"Because I didn't do anything! And that's not how it all works!"

"Arkoon, let's defer this execution," another voice all but croaked. I recognized that it came from the lion known as Leopold, the one the others had called "Chief" or "Village Elder."

Arkoon glanced up at me with a look of utmost loathing, but he spun the wheel in the opposite direction, and the tug on my harness hoisted me back up. Before long, the fire looked a lot smaller.

"I was once a human!" I yelled, more fear seeping in. I couldn't shake the feeling that Arkoon might "accidentally" let go of the wheel and send me plunging to a fiery grave.

There was a long, dreadful silence. And then…

"Okay, let's give him a chance to explain himself," Leopold instructed Arkoon. "Get him back to the ground, outside of the fire."

As though I were on a slow zip line, I suddenly slid through the air for a short distance. And then I hung there, high above the dark ground.

"Please let me down!" I exclaimed. "This harness is too tight!"

Arkoon licked his lips longingly, probably because he wouldn't get to eat me yet. "It's the only thing keeping you from splatting on the ground!"

"Just let him down, Arkoon!" a female lion pleaded. "He doesn't deserve this!"

"Sionne is correct," Leopold said bluntly. "And if it comes to a fight…".

"Then I'd win," Arkoon told the Village Elder in a threatening tone. But he took the wheel and began lowering me towards the ground.

Once I was safely on the surface, the female lion (evidently named Sionne) helped me get the full-body harness off, and I stretched out my limbs to get the blood circulating again. I looked around and saw that I was in a forested clearing only illuminated by the bonfire.

I was still on four legs. Taking a step forward, I was more than a little clumsy. It should go without saying by now, but none of this was a dream.

"So," Leopold's elderly voice spoke to me, "we spared you in the hopes you could provide some answers. What makes you special compared to all the other Litleo in this world?"

"Because I used to be human," I muttered. Hopefully, this was my "get out of jail free" card, though I still had my doubts.

Several of the lions gasped. Arkoon in particular appeared incensed at the idea of the universe not conforming to his pre-existing notion of it.

"That hasn't happened before," another creature said. "Of all the wild Pokemon who come here for whatever reason, they always have a different excuse. Maybe they have family they need to get back to, or maybe they'll taste terrible."

"Maybe," Arkoon spoke. "But even if we're to spare this child, I see no reason to trust him. Why shouldn't we just send him off on a raft? Banish him to whence he came?"

"Because…" I didn't know what I could tell Arkoon to change his mind. But he didn't seem to be in charge here, even though he could have been judge, jury, and executioner.

"Because what?" Leopold interjected. "Please, newcomer, state your name and purpose."

I soon realized I was in the middle of a circle, surrounded by majestic lion-like creatures. They could all gang up on me if they wanted to, and then I'd be screwed. I must have been fortunate that this hadn't happened yet.

"Uh…" I began awkwardly.

"I said, state your name and purpose," the Village Elder insisted. "Otherwise, we may have second thoughts about keeping you alive."

I must keep them convinced that I'm more valuable to them alive than dead. As long as that happens, I'm safe from the Grim Reaper.

"Okay. My name is Lucas Teller. I'm seventeen years old and from Forrest County in the United States."

A few of the lions (Sionne may have been one of them) blinked as though they didn't know what to make of my words. But I wasn't done yet.

"How about this: I answer a question of yours, and then you answer a question of mine. I came into this world today, so I'm just as confused as you."

"I suppose we could do that," one of the other lions, this one a spry male, said. "What is your question, Lucas Teller?"

I raised my hands and backed away from the closest lion. Of course, as Murphy's Law would have it, I backed right into a different lion and nearly fell to the ground.

"Anyway," I began, "what country am I in now? Canada? The Netherlands? The Philippines? Okay, it's probably not that last one; the water's far too cold, but…".

The creatures all looked at each other, frowning. I knew that this could mean nothing good.

Finally, Leopold turned to me with a forlorn demeanor. He shook his head.

"Lucas Teller, I'm afraid we do not know what you are talking about here. We know nothing about your United States, or your Canada, or either of the other two nations you mentioned. Quite frankly, we don't know your world."

How is this bad news? I'm sure that in their eyes, my knowing the names of Earthly countries will vindicate my claim that I'm from Earth.

"Whatever," I replied, starting to vigorously tap my right foot (another habit people constantly told me I must lose.) "I guess you have to accept that I'm not of your world."

"And you think that exonerates you?" Arkoon shot back. "Quite frankly, if anything, it makes you even more of an intruder."

"Arkoon, please," Sionne begged him. "You're scaring him."

"Good! He should be scared! I'm scared! This world is going to hell lately, and maybe he's a symptom of it!"

I frowned. "In what way is this world going to hell?"

"We'll tell you later. But first, our turn to ask you something: How did you get here?"

I saw no reason to skirt the truth on that one. "I was sleeping in a ditch and woke up in a dinghy. What an upgrade, huh?"

Whether the lions could tell I was being sarcastic or not, I didn't know or care. It wasn't long before I worked up the nerve to voice my subsequent inquiry.

"So, where am I now? I understand I'm not on Earth, but what planet is this?"

"Well", Leopold said, "these words may not mean anything to you. But you're on the Fula Continent, near the northern end of it, to be exact. This village is known as Chilly Waters."

"Huh. A pretty accurate title, I'd say."

Arkoon gritted his teeth. "You dare to mock the name of our home?"

"No, that's not what I was doing," I insisted. "Not at all. Anyway, Chief Leopold, continue."

The Village Elder frowned. "Well, this village consists mostly of Litleo and Pyroar, the latter of which is the evolved form of Litleo. In that sense, you're fortunate to have ended up here as opposed to somewhere else where the locals would be less welcoming."

I barely resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Please. As if y'all were welcoming to me.

"It's getting late," Leopold continued, and I heard his voice start to creak like an old floorboard. "And I'm getting too old for this, guys. I don't know how long I can keep leading the village."

"You know, you can step down at any time, Chief," Arkoon said.

"And let you replace me? I'd rather die on the throne! Anyway, Lucas Teller, where were we? The matter of who you will stay with tonight."

Anyone but Arkoon. Knowing that he had my life in his hands, I don't think I can look at him the same way again.

"He can stay with me," Sionne spoke up. "I'll ensure he has something to eat and a nice bed to sleep in."

After I sighed quietly in relief, Leopold gestured at me to follow him away from the fire pit.

"What's the deal?" I asked. I could have been more accommodating, but I was confused as to why I had to go with the Village Elder first.

"Well, it's standard practice to give newcomers a tour of Chilly Waters, a closer look at our home," the old Pyroar said. "I'll show you around, and then you can retire to Sionne's home for the night."

Even though I'd been asleep for much of that day, my legs already felt weary, and my eyes were having more and more trouble staying open. Collapsing into a real bed (or whatever the Pyroar and Litleo slept on) sounded like heaven to me.

As we walked away from the bonfire, another thought occurred to me, one I voiced aloud to the Village Elder.

"Chief Leopold -."

"You can just call me Leopold, Lucas Teller. I don't bite."

"Well then," I continued, "what was it Arkoon meant when he said that the world was going to hell lately?"

The Village Elder gave a heaving sigh before glancing over at me. I realized that my night vision had significantly improved from my human form, but it still wasn't perfect. Even so, I could tell just how wizened Leopold appeared for the first time. Clearly, his job was taking a toll.

"Well", Leopold said, "Arkoon may have been exaggerating. I mean, you know him -".

"I sure do."

"- and there's not much room for nuance with him. He states his opinions as though they're facts, and you can't argue with him, for Arkoon is always right."

Leopold said the word always as though it meant never. Then, he kept talking.

"What I'm trying to get at here is that Arkoon has a point. Ever since they vanished, life hasn't exactly been the same here. No matter how much we might want to pretend that everything's okay, it just isn't."

"Who are you talking about?"

"It's a bit late for that," Leopold replied gravely. "And by that, I mean late in the day. We'll tell you more tomorrow. I can promise you that."