Here's the nineteenth chapter of Escape from Thunderhead! We're getting closer and closer to the climax; the home stretch, if you will. I'd like to thank everyone who has read this far; I intend to make it worth your while.

There really isn't much else to say. No milestones or anything to cover. I guess...nah, I won't get into it. Enjoy the chapter.

Current music: Other Worlds Than These - Starset

OTTO'S POV

The sun peeked over the distant horizon, not unlike the eyes of someone engaged in a game of hide and seek. The ocean waves turned from a dull, dark gray to a fairly clear shade of blue.

The sky, on the other hand, was not nearly as blue. A haze of white had built up there, blocking out the sun for the most part.

Still, Otto couldn't help but smile from ear to ear as he slammed his foot down on the pedals. Driving a boat was easier than he'd expected; all it really required was patience, determination, and plenty of care. That last one was key, because if this boat hit something else, be it another boat or a rock beneath the waves, the results would be catastrophic.

But there was nobody as far as the eye could see, just an endless ocean, just as there had been for several hours prior to this. Nothing impeded the view of the sea and sky, the salty breeze in the Oshawott's fur.

"This is the life!" Otto exclaimed as he put the pedal to the metal. "Burning fossil fuels never felt so good, baby!"

The old Otto was back now. All the levity he'd been trying to suppress for so long had burst forth like a torrential river bursting a dam. And it was glorious.

Kai giggled like a child on Christmas morning. He glanced at the horizon, then at his friend. "Hey, Otto?"

"What's that?" the Oshawott responded, taking his eyes off the radar for a few seconds.

"I don't think there's anyone around," the Raichu replied with a grin. "We got away, and I guess we're alone now."

Otto couldn't resist the smile either. "Hey, Kai?"

"Yeah?"

"I think this boat was a steal" he said, allowing himself a chuckle at his mediocre pun.

Both of them cackled maniacally for a good thirty seconds. Sometimes bad jokes are funnier than good jokes, especially when you're sharing them with your best friend.

The motorboat ripped through the waves with ease, bouncing a bit with each one. However, the whole process was so effortless that Otto didn't feel at all seasick. But then, why would he? He was a Water-type, after all!

What had also been effortless was the task of stealing the motorboat from the Seablast HQ's underground marina. Exactly why they'd decided to put the marina underground was anyone's guess, but if a deus ex machina benefited them, Otto wasn't going to complain.

The Oshawott had managed to turn the engine on without a problem, and even been able to steer out of the harbor without too much difficulty. And something told him that it wasn't just beginner's luck - perhaps it was his Typing as well.

Now they were cruising northward, forty miles an hour. At this rate it would only take a few days to reach the southern coast of Sinnoh, if they had intended to go that far. That in itself raised a question - where would they go?

"Let's keep going north for a while!" Kai shouted, struggling to be heard over the wind. "That's the last place they'll expect us!"

Otto nodded in agreement, pulling the lever down as far as it would go. The boat accelerated, but only a little; the watercraft's velocity was already fairly immense as it was.

Try as he might, as happy as he might be, the Oshawott found it difficult to relax. It might only have been a holdover from the days when he'd lived under omnipresent cameras and microphones, but he half expected a helicopter to fly overhead at any moment and fire on them, like something out of an action movie.

But hey. Your life is a movie, and you're the main character, so why wouldn't you make it the most epic film you've ever seen?

Otto laughed again as he steered the ship over a particularly impressive wave. The boat bounced over it like a mountain bike off a jump, then came splashing down. There was something oddly satisfying about it, too. Each jump, each splashdown, made the Oshawott's heart thump a little more quickly, in a good way.

In the beginning, of course, there had been some buoys to navigate around, though with the sheer power this boat wielded, Otto doubted that they would have served as an impediment. Yes, it was better not to hit them, but the lean, mean machine that was this watercraft would just breeze right through.

The Oshawott chanced a brief glance off the radar to find that Kai had moved to the seating area at the bow. The Raichu was now lounging on the couch, looking up at the sky. If a helicopter did come, they'd be prepared for it.

"Hell yes!" Otto shouted out of nowhere.

Kai laughed happily. It seemed that Otto's enthusiasm for this voyage was indeed infectious. The only question was how long it would last once the food in the boat's hold (which was present there for some reason) ran out.

We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, Otto decided. Right now, we're having a good time, and we're getting away from Seablast. That's all that matters.

LUCAS' POV

I woke up some hours later. By that time, I noticed that my supine body had produced a considerable amount of perspiration, making the boat's floor rather slippery.

Wait a minute…boat?

I opened my eyes to find that I hadn't been wrong about the events of yesterday. They had not been a hallucination of any sort. Rather, I had climbed onto a yacht last night with Sionne, Janelle, and Leopold.

As I sat up, barely avoiding crushing one of my appendages, I knew instantly that I hadn't slept well. I couldn't remember having any dreams, let alone nightmares, but that didn't exactly mean I had slept peacefully.

"Yuck, Lucas," Janelle complained. "Why are you sweating so much?"

"I don't know," I admitted, still somewhat groggy. "It could just be nerves."

"I mean, that's understandable," she admitted. "But next time, could you not sleep right next to me? I don't want to get all grimy and gross from your sweat."

"Guys, let's drop it" Sionne jumped in. "We've got plenty of other things to worry about."

Janelle glared at Sionne. "Like what?" she asked, her tail wagging with what I had to assume was annoyance.

"Well, like the fact that we're on a fucking yacht. We should be enjoying ourselves!"

I gave the Pyroar an odd look. "Why do you say that? This isn't exactly a pleasure cruise we're on here."

"Well," Sionne replied, "it might be a good way to stave off seasickness. Having fun is the best way to distract yourself."

"Fair enough, I guess," Janelle muttered. "Though I'm not sure that's how it works."

I didn't question either of them. Instead, I chose to revel in the fact that I was on a fucking yacht, to borrrow a phrase from Sionne.

We each stood up gingerly, and I wished that I could have spread my arms out like the wings of an airplane. The floor of the yacht rocked back and forth, though probably not to the same degree as a smaller boat would.

The boat had stairs leading up to the control room, so I decided to climb them. Why? Because they were there.

Well, getting up there as a quadruped felt more like rock climbing than walking, but before long I was at the door to said room. I leaped upward to reach the handle, and then I was able to walk inside.

Leopold stood at the wheel, his eyes over every button on the console. His concentration did not waver, though I noticed that he'd taken the time to don a "captain's hat." Where he'd gotten it, I had no clue.

"Hey" I said, which clearly caused the Village Elder some fright.

Leopold gasped as he turned to me. He looked startled, though not angry.

"Whoa, Lucas, you nearly gave me a heart attack! I swear, you've got to be careful with Pokemon my age!"

"My apologies, Chief," I told him. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay, and had things under control."

"Well, thank you for that," Leopold replied. "But you don't need to worry. Piloting a yacht is a tough job, but someone's gotta do it."

"I know, but do you want a break or something? I mean, you're old, and might need a rest."

Leopold snorted. "Bah! I don't think you know how to drive this thing! I have driven yachts for the government before, including this one!"

"But…".

"No 'buts', Lucas. When you get to be old like me, you don't need as much sleep to function. If I require a quick power nap, I can switch this thing to autopilot, but I don't need that just yet. How did you sleep, Lucas."

"Uh…". The real answer was not great, though I didn't feel like telling him that. No reason to worry the guy who knew he had all our lives in his hands. "I slept okay."

"That's good," Leopold responded, turning the wheel a bit. "I hope Janelle and Sionne are well-rested too. We can't overstate the risk of a storm."

I shivered, then remembered something else. "This yacht should be able to weather a storm, right? I mean, it's huge!"

The Village Elder nodded. "Yes, though the key word is should. Sometimes things that 'should' happen don't. Of course, the storm might not happen, but it's better to be safe than sorry."

"Let's hope it doesn't come, then."

"That's the spirit!" Leopold exclaimed, pressing a small green button on the console. Exactly what this button did, I didn't know, and I wouldn't ask. Not unless I had to pilot the ship for some reason.

Maybe it's better to ask right now. If Leopold, Arceus forbid, has a heart attack or something, then I might not be able to ask him anymore. And I will wish I'd gotten that information sooner.

And yet, something still stopped me. To this day, I'm not exactly sure what it was. Perhaps I just wanted to hang out with the girls like the ladies' man I was.

I bade Leopold goodbye and returned down the stairs, a trip that was far more treacherous than the way up. When I reached the bottom, I saw that the two girls were no longer on the deck.

They didn't go overboard, did they?

As a lump rose in my throat at the thought of having to rescue Janelle or Sionne, I heard the voice of the former exclaim, "We're behind you!"

I turned around and saw that the two females were in a room labeled as the REC ROOM. It contained a pool table, a foosball table, and a dartboard.

Janelle was smiling as she brandished a billiard stick, whereas Sionne looked like she was trying to swallow a billiard ball. The Pyroar's face was green around the gills.

"Oh, hello" I said awkwardly, not knowing how else to present myself. Then: "I was just talking with Leopold."

"What did he say?" Janelle responded, raising her eyebrows.

"That we'll arrive at our destination soon, I hope?" Sionne asked.

"Not much, really," I admitted. "He just wanted us to know that he's got things under control. He'll get us there safely, although maybe not very quickly."

Judging by the look on Sionne's face, I didn't think it would be wise to tell them what Leopold had said about potential storms. It wouldn't help matters at all.

"So…" Janelle began, "...want to play pool?"

I shook my head. "I don't think that'll be so easy. Look how short we are."

Sionne didn't seem happy about that idea either. She looked at a spot between her forelegs, her tongue lolling out of her mouth despite her best efforts.

"Don't look down, Sionne" Janelle told the Pyroar. "It'll only make things worse."

I decided that I didn't want to be around to see Sionne hurl. Of course, it's not like there was anything else to do, but doing nothing would be preferable to what might happen in this room shortly.

Instead I made my way back outside. The cool, crisp air at sea was delightful, though the deck swayed every few seconds. The sun shone brightly amidst a clear sky, completely devoid of smoke. It was as though the wildfire had never happened.

So what was there to do? I could go back up to the control room to talk to Leopold, but I didn't want to bother him; moreover, I had no clue what I'd even say. No need to trouble him when he had a job to do.

Or I could practice some Fire-type moves that Litleo surely had, though that might not be wise in a place such as this. I imagined the ship disintegrating and sinking to the bottom of the ocean like the Titanic without an iceberg. That was a fate I wanted to avoid.

How did people entertain themselves on long sea voyages? How can anyone deal with this level of boredom?

With a great sigh, I sat down in order to watch the waves. It seemed like that was one of the few ways to stay occupied here.

JULY 2018

It was now five in the afternoon. Before long, the sun would be shining through the windows, making it difficult to see all of the courtroom without significant eyestrain.

I'd like to think that I stood tall and defiant, gripping the edges of the stand with considerable strength and force. I wish I could believe that I projected an aura of bravery throughout the room.

But I can't.

Instead, I was slumped over the podium, holding onto the edges with the palms of my hands. They were developing calluses at this point. How much longer could I keep this up?

"We are almost there, Mr. Teller."

I looked up from the podium to find that Darren Ferguson was speaking directly at me. This shouldn't have been a surprise; that was how it had been all day. But it was easy to grow weary after so many hours of testimony.

"Can it be over yet?" I blurted out. Even after all this time, I didn't care so much about my freedom anymore; I just wanted this day to end.

A few people in the audience laughed, and I knew that my quote was likely to go viral, plastered on the front page of every social media platform. The memes would be legendary, and they'd be made at my expense.

"It can't be, unfortunately," Ferguson responded, licking his lips. "They're getting excited; you can tell, can't you?"

Of course. If Ferguson were to be believed, we were almost at the good part. Obviously, the "good part" for him wasn't the same as the good part for me. Both of us had a job to do.

When I didn't say anything, having realized my mistake earlier and grown determined not to repeat it, Ferguson continued.

"The voyage of the Windwhistler…what a lovely name for a ship. It sounds like something a kid would have come up with."

I narrowed my right eye until it was almost shut. "What are you trying to imply?"

"Nothing," Ferguson admitted. "I'm well aware that you didn't name the yacht. Did it feel good to be escaping the law on a yacht?"

"I wasn't escaping the law" I told the prosecutor sharply. "I hadn't even allegedly done anything wrong, and the wildfire forced our hands."

"Okay. So how was the yacht?"

I was a little taken aback by this very casual question.

"Uh…well…it's a yacht. There's not much else to say about it. It was okay to be on the sea, I guess."

Ferguson glared at me as the court scribe wrote something on his notepad. From this vantage point, I could only imagine what it was.

"Could you be more specific?" the prosecutor enquired, his voice rising at the end of the question.

"Do you mean that the motion of the ocean caused me to do something rash? No, of course not. I didn't do it, but I would say that even if I had done it."

Right away I knew that was a fatal mistake. At a minimum, the damage was significant enough that I'd need to mount a strong defense. But how would I do that when I stood on my own?

"Very well," Ferguson responded with a wry smile. "We will note your answers for the record, Lucas Teller."

"Are we done here?" I responded wearily.

"I'm afraid not," the scribe said, speaking for the first time in hours. "We're just getting to the most important part of the story - that's what everyone came here to learn about."

I barely suppressed a groan as I glanced at the ceiling. After an exhausting day of spilling the beans all over the floor of the courtroom, the worst was yet to come.

2017

Leopold took a break from the wheel, turning the ship to autopilot. He assured us that this was perfectly safe so long as you were alone on the seas, and the radar didn't detect anyone for at least ten miles in any direction.

Instead, he cooked us some lunch. Roast pork, bread, and a few canned vegetables were what we'd managed to find in the supplies contained within the crates.

Since we didn't have as much food as we would have liked, rationing was key. A shame, too, since Pokémon seemed to get hungrier than humans, and the sea air really increases your appetite.

Sionne, on the other hand, didn't seem to want any more food. Indeed, she didn't even appear to desire what lay before her, a small helping of each dish mentioned above.

Her head was in her paws, her mane unkempt from having been held back by Janelle. According to the other Litleo, my fellow former human, Sionne hadn't thrown up yet, but I wasn't too sure if I believed that.

Anyway, we sat at the table in near-total silence, giving one another awkward glances. It was plain that we'd run out of things to talk about and were now merely trying not to go insane from one another's company.

The food was okay, if only because it gave me something to do rather than brood. Janelle picked at it gingerly, whereas Sionne didn't even look at her plate.

"I can't do this" the Pyroar mumbled eventually, standing up from the table. "I'm going to go lean over the edge."

"Don't, it'll only make you feel worse" Janelle instructed Sionne. But she got up from the table and followed the Pyroar out onto the deck.

I looked longingly at my half-eaten pork, but I knew that it wouldn't taste nearly as good now. Food is meant to be enjoyed with friends, after all.

As I walked past the girls, I thought I heard the sound of retching, which caused me to flinch. My instinct is to lean away from anyone who's visibly sick, mainly out of fear that I'll get sick myself, and being sick sucks. Especially at sea.

Instead, I elected to explore the boat a bit more. There wasn't too much to see, but there were a few beds in one room. They didn't look as comfortable as one you'd find at home, but after a long day of nothing, they'd probably be sufficient.

We're on the way to save Zeraora, I told myself. This will all be worth it. Even if I have to remind myself twenty times a day, if it works, I'll keep doing it.

But with that thought came fear. Namely, the fear of what we'd face once we reached Sinnoh's Eastern Archipelago. It could be three days from now, it could be three weeks from now; eventually, the time would come. And I might be wholly unprepared when it did.

Well, what am I supposed to do about that? Work out? Is there a gym here like there supposedly is on some cruise ships?

And then I remembered that in this world, the word "gym" had a different meaning. It was where Pokemon trainers fought against one another to earn badges - as someone who'd been a Pokemon fan prior to coming here, I should have known that.

Regardless, there were no gyms at sea that I was aware of. So that left me with absolutely nothing to fill my time.

Perhaps, ten months later, Darren Ferguson would have a point: By leaving myself in such a state of sheer boredom, I was opening myself up to risky decisions, to doing things I wouldn't have dared try otherwise. But what choice did I have?

KAI'S POV

When morning turned to afternoon, and early afternoon became evening, Kai had to admit that some of the fun was wearing off.

The novelty of being at sea was quickly slipping away, to be replaced by the monotonous sound of the vessel cresting each wave, then splashing down. If he hadn't been so focused on trying to steer that thing, it would have been enough to send him off to sleep.

Moreover, his stomach felt increasingly empty with each passing minute. The ship had food, yes, but not very much of it. If they didn't ration carefully, they would run out of that necessity at an alarming rate. Better not to eat until they absolutely had to.

As if that wasn't enough, they had nothing to drink. Kai felt like kicking himself for not having thought of such a simple problem, but that would expend unnecessary energy, which would make him feel even more dehydrated.

How ironic is it, the Raichu thought to himself, that amidst all this open ocean, all this salt water, there's nothing we can drink? What a cruel joke, Arceus.

Arceus, of course, was not forthcoming. The Creator remained silent, not that Kai had expected anything else. They would have to figure this all out on their own.

The boat sped along, Kai at the helm. In a few minutes he'd give the controls over to Otto, who would no doubt enjoy the task much more than Kai did. That's the way it had been all day, perhaps because the Oshawott was a Water-type.

Of course, it also meant that Kai would have to look at the small amount of non-perishable food and not take a bite of it. As tempting as it would be, he knew that if he took one measly bite, it could lead to him devouring a whole meal's worth, and then they'd have nothing left.

"Okay, Otto, three-minute warning!" the Raichu exclaimed with a rasp, probably sounding like a parent telling their child that they had only a few more minutes to play with their stuffed animals.

The Oshawott did not respond. Otto sat at the bow, looking out at the horizon. He was likely focused on something else entirely than his friend's voice.

Three minutes (or at least, what Kai thought was three minutes) went by, and then the Raichu told Otto it was the latter's turn.

"There's a ship out there" the Oshawott told Kai as he sat behind the wheel.

The Raichu frowned. He hadn't been paying as much attention to the radar screen as he probably should have been. As a result, he'd missed the most obvious hazard, and it was only by sheer luck that they hadn't crashed.

"What sort of ship?" Kai asked Otto.

Otto shrugged. "Just go up there and see for yourself. Maybe we could try to get some water from them."

Kai snorted. "I don't know if we should mooch off of them, Otto. That just wouldn't be nice, and besides, they're strangers. We shouldn't expect them to help us."

The Oshawott grimaced. "At this point, Kai, what choice do we have?"

Kai couldn't really argue with that, but something still felt wrong about going up to a random boat and begging for their supplies. As the sun set closer to the horizon, though, he had to admit they were desperate.

"That still feels wrong," Kai told Otto. "But…"

"But we'll do it," the Oshawott replied, finishing the sentence for him. "We'll follow this boat for a while until we can stop this vessel next to it."

The Raichu frowned. "Are you saying that we'll just leave this boat as is, let it sink deeper into the ocean?"

Otto raised an eyebrow at Kai. "What, do you think we can do anything else? Do you see a buoy to anchor this ship to?"

Kai sighed. "You're right. It's just…I'd hate to think of this ship becoming yet another shipwreck on the seabed."

"Well, it's a stolen boat anyway" Otto responded matter-of-factly. "It doesn't deserve anything better."

Kai was startled by how flippantly the Oshawott treated this inanimate object that had propelled them hundreds of miles away from Seablast HQ. Of course, to some extent, it had been out of the frying pan and into the fire.

"I guess you have a point. But when we climb onto that giant yacht, what do we do?"

Otto didn't hesitate, nor did he look up from the controls for even an instant.

"We're going to beg for our lives, because that's exactly what water represents for us. When the water's gone, we will be too."

LUCAS' POV

Evening was coming on. The warmth of the afternoon was fading into cool weather, the likes of which made me tempted to shiver given the sea breeze.

I hadn't seen Janelle or Sionne in hours. If I had to hazard a guess, the former was in the rec room trying to have fun, whereas the latter was in the cabin trying not to vomit. But that was mere speculation.

I didn't eat dinner either. I knew this was an unwise decision, since I would need to keep my strength up for whatever happened next, but my stomach felt certain to reject whatever I forced down. Indeed, it was all I could do not to hurl now.

Sionne's seasickness must have rubbed off on me, I thought bitterly. I'm just not as prone to it as she is.

You can handle it, Lucas. Just think of what you're doing this for. Who you're doing this for. Zeraora is going through much worse than mere seasickness.

I stared out at the horizon, trying not to look at the waves or the setting sun. If my parents saw me now, would they be proud?

No, of course not. In fact, they're almost assuredly furious at me for vanishing yet again with Janelle.

I had no desire to open that can of worms again. I couldn't worry about my parents anymore; they had made up their mind about me. And it occurred to me that if I ever saw them again, a shouting match would be involved, potentially tearing our relationship apart forever. To the extent that we still cared for one another, that would no longer be the case.

Eventually I returned to our quarters, where Sionne was in bed, lying in the fetal position so as not to squish her tail. I knew that waking her would be a horrible idea - she needed the rest, and so did I.

I climbed onto my own bed and got beneath the covers. Given how bored and exhausted I was, you might think that I slept easily that night.

But you'd be wrong.

Every few minutes, Sionne would stir, negating the "need" for me to wake her. She would look from side to side and groan, and I would be convinced that she was about to puke.

Luckily, this didn't happen. Even as I tell you this, I hate to think of how gruesome the scene could have ended up.

After what must have been an hour or two, I finally drifted off.

Ferguson: Do you remember your dreams from that night?

Defendant: I'm certain that one of my visions was of Thunderhead Mountain. Other than that, I cannot recall anything.

Ferguson: Try harder, please. This could exonerate you, Mr. Teller!

Defendant: I don't see how, but okay.

Ferguson: I've thrown you a life preserver. Are you going to take it?

Defendant: You know how to persuade me. Anyway, I'm pretty sure I saw Zeraora being somehow tortured up on that mountain. It was in incredible pain; of course, I have no way of knowing if that dream was real.

Ferguson: Fair enough. So you're admitting the whole Pokemon world was a fantasy?

Defendant: What? No! I'm just saying that I don't know if the dream world was in sync with the real world. And that probably sounds like word salad; I apologize, Darren.

Ferguson: I understand that when you woke up the following morning, Village Elder Leopold had an announcement to make. Is that correct?

Defendant: Yes, he did. Apparently it wasn't good news.

Ferguson: Well?

Defendant: What?

Ferguson: What was the news, Mr. Teller?

Defendant: There was a ship right next to ours.