Chapter 3: Clash of the Experiments
The Scyther shot toward us, blades outstretched. Time slowed to a crawl. I was frozen, my mind already generating the image of its scythes tearing us apart, and—
A burst of lightning! Razors leapt back to avoid the Pikachu that had dropped suddenly into its path, sparking wildly. For just a moment, the Scyther stared, its eyes perfectly emotionless. Then it lunged, blades flashing. Too late—the electric-type was already out of reach. Another lightning bolt flew, but Razors dodged it effortlessly and darted after the Pikachu, so fast it was practically a blur.
I sat frozen, unable to believe it. The Pikachu was… helping us? Or maybe it just shared the same enemy? Either way, we weren't dead yet. If the Pikachu managed to beat Razors, we actually had a chance at getting out of here alive.
"Pssst! Over here if you want to keep your head!"
I spun around to see Spencer motioning to me from behind a stack of crates, and I immediately scrambled over to him.
"What should we do?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
"Er… I was actually hoping you'd have a plan…" he said sheepishly.
Great, so both of us were relying on the other, who was equally clueless.
"Oh, come on!" Rudy exclaimed. "We're not gonna get anywhere by just hiding!"
Before I could protest, he pulled out a pair of Pokéballs and opened them both to release Ebony and… a Squirtle? Yeah, a Squirtle. Ebony glanced around the cargo hold with wide-eyed curiosity while the Squirtle took one look at the battle and promptly retreated into its shell.
"You should probably take this," Rudy said, handing me a Pokéball. "I had to put Swift in a ball before sneaking on board. Otherwise, he couldn't come with."
I blinked at it. "This is Swift's Pokéball?"
"Sure is. Now, come on! We've got to battle our way out of this!"
I gaped at him. "Are you serious? We'd just end up getting our Pokémon killed! We've got to leave this to Spencer, okay?"
Rudy paused, looking half offended and half confused. Like the thought of losing honestly hadn't occurred to him. Ebony mumbled something in a disappointed tone and then put her nose against his leg reassuringly. Squirtle, on the other hand, just looked relieved.
"Leave what to me?" Spencer asked, like he'd just noticed I mentioned his name. "Oh, right… Typhlosion should be able to get some ranged attacks off, right bud?" he asked. The fire beast nodded, then dropped to all fours and crept forward to get into a position where he could attack from behind cover.
And then, with a sinking feeling, I spotted Firestorm creeping after him, eyes full of conviction. He wasn't about to join the fight, was he? The Charmander's tail swished as he prepared to leap. Crap, he was definitely about to. I reached out and grabbed his arm, and he jolted in surprise.
"I really don't think that's a good idea," I said.
Firestorm's brow furrowed. "*Why not?*" Why not? Couldn't he see how dangerous it was?
"Look, it's great that you want to help and all, but…" But he wasn't strong enough. I couldn't just say that, though. "…They're too strong. The rest of us wouldn't stand a chance if we got in their way."
Firestorm stared up at me for several seconds and then turned away, nodding distantly. Part of me wished I had his conviction. Or Rudy's. I wasn't the only useless one here, but I was the only one who had given up on being able to help. The thought burned.
Another blast of lightning. Tyson kept barking orders constantly to Razors. The Scyther slashed away mercilessly, responding instantly to Tyson's every command with a precision that was almost scary. Still, none of its strikes managed to hit the Pikachu—it was just too fast. At this rate, the fight would come down to who tired out first.
And then a burst of flames shot toward Razors, striking the mantis dead-on. Yes! A direct hit from Typhlosion! No way the Scyther could withstand that.
…But even as I watched, Razors stood up and turned sharply in Typhlosion's direction, preparing to leap at him.
"Ignore them!" Tyson barked. The Scyther instantly obeyed, darting after the Pikachu once more.
Spencer and Typhlosion exchanged bewildered looks. "Well, crap. I thought that would be, well… super effective."
"I don't get it…" I murmured. "How did it shrug off a Flamethrower like that? I thought Scyther were weak to fire."
"We're up against freaking hybrids, what did you expect?" Rudy exclaimed, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Typhlosion let out an indignant huff and peeked around the corner again, looking for another opportunity to strike.
"Afraid to come out of your hidey hole?" Tyson called out to us. "That's fine by me, Razors isn't my only experiment!" His words were followed by the sound of two more Pokéballs opening. He was letting out more Pokémon? There was barely enough room for a battle between two Pokémon!
Lightning flew wild. The Pikachu snarled something at Tyson before unleashing a blast of electricity at the other experiments. Seizing the chance, Razors shot forward, blades flashing. Then a burst of flames—Typhlosion launched another Flamethrower! Razors stopped short, forced to swerve, but that left it wide open. The Pikachu turned sharply and fired another bolt of lightning just as Typhlosion followed up with a burst of flames. Fire and lightning collided in a blinding burst with Razors caught right in the middle.
"Scyy!" it cried out pitifully, dropping to the floor.
"We got it!" Spencer cried out, high-fiving Typhlosion. "I was really starting to worry there, y'know?"
Tyson pulled out Razors's Pokéball and recalled it. He muttered a string of curses, then ordered his other experiments to focus their attention on the Pikachu. His Rhydon didn't exactly have any space to move, but it was able to act as a shield, spreading its arms wide to protect its trainer. Pikachu hammered away at the rock-type with its tail, which gave a metallic clang with each strike. Rhydon didn't react at all. Its eyes were creepily blank and soulless, just like the Scyther's had been. What was the deal with these Pokémon?
"Strong enough to take down my best experiment?" Tyson called out. "You're more of a nuisance that I gave you credit for."
"Razors was your best guy? Awesome, that means we're in charge now," Spencer said, standing up. "Tell the pilot to land this thing and let us off. And also get us pizza," he added as an afterthought.
Tyson stared at him, unimpressed. "You think you're hot stuff just 'cause you managed to beat one of my experiments with help from a crazy overpowered rat?"
"Nah, Typhlosion is the one made of hot stuff."
"What the hell are you even doing here?!" Tyson roared. "I don't have to take this crap from some random-ass kid!"
Spencer's eyes widened with panic. Then he practically shoved me aside as he dove behind cover right before an earsplitting bang tore the air. Had—had Tyson just—?
"He shot at me?" Spencer blurted out, picking himself up from the floor, completely stunned. "I—I know I shouldn't be surprised, but… yeah, I wasn't ready for that." His eyes flickered to Typhlosion. "Er, make sure you stay out of view, bud," he added distractedly.
"Fine, keep hiding, it doesn't matter!" Tyson spat, motioning to one of his Pokémon. "Back there, kill them!"
He couldn't possibly be expecting Rhydon to get at us with all these supplies in the way, could he? No, Rhydon was staying behind, guarding him. The other experiment, a spiky-furred Raticate, bared its teeth at us and darted forward, too fast to see. Before I could even blink, it had cleared the length of the room before being tackled by Typhlosion, whose fur blazed with flames.
"Backup, backup, definitely time for backup," Spence muttered quickly, fumbling with his Pokéball belt and opening the first ball he could get his hands on. An Electabuzz appeared in a flash, flexing its arms and letting sparks dance between the prongs on its head.
"I thought you had six Pokémon," Rudy said, a bit disappointed.
With a weak smile, Spencer replied, "We'd be starting one crazy party if I let out all six of my guys in here. I don't think the plane could handle it—this battle's probably dangerous enough as it is."
He motioned forward, and his two Pokémon got into a defensive position on either side of us, ready to lash out at the experiment if it dared to come close. The Raticate darted in for another attack, but then recoiled backward when faced with Typhlosion's fireball.
Movement behind us caught my eye. I spun around, heart racing… but it was just Rudy. He'd apparently ducked out from behind cover for just a moment—long enough to grab an open box by the corner and drag it back to our hiding spot.
"What are you doing?" I hissed.
"Well, it was just sitting over there—I've been wanting to grab it for the past five minutes or so," he said, proceeding to dig through its contents while Ebony stuck her nose in the box, sniffing.
Really, couldn't he ever explain anything? But before I could reply, I noticed the "Technical Machine" stamp on the side of the box. TM discs—each of them designed to teach a different Pokémon move.
"I'm tired of sitting on the sidelines," Rudy continued, occasionally pulling out a disc and looking it over before throwing it back in the box. "I know my Pokémon wouldn't stand a chance if they got hit,"—the words sounded painful for him to admit—"but if I use these to give them sweet moves and have them attack from behind cover, they might have a shot." It… did seem like a good idea. We were completely surrounded by the Rockets' supplies—why not use that to our advantage?
A wide grin crossed Rudy's face as he pulled out a blue TM. "Dude, Surf—I gotta teach this to Squirtle," he said, fumbling with the disc's case.
"Surf?" I asked incredulously. "What, do you want to flood the plane with us inside it?"
"Fiine, I'll pick a different one," Rudy grumbled, tossing it back into the box before digging through the TMs again. "Hey Jade, bet you'll be excited to see this," he said, holding up a TM with a glossy red case and the words "Series 5: No.38" written on the front. I blinked, unsure of how I was supposed to respond.
"It's Fire Blast," he said, pointing at the label. "Now hurry up and use it on Charmander before I take it and use it on Ebony."
I took the disc, unable to come up with a reply. It hadn't occurred to me that this plan was something I could get in on.
Firestorm was staring at me intently. I glanced warily between him and the disc, then shoved it in my pocket. "No way, I still think it's a bad idea for us to get involved."
But wasn't it his choice? If he wanted to throw himself into danger, then who was I to stop him? This was our chance to make a difference. But was I too much of a coward to take it?
In the midst of the ongoing battle, the Pikachu had given up on trying to get at Tyson and was now letting loose strings of lightning at anyone that came too close. Its movements had grown shaky from exhaustion. Sparks shot out of its fur at random. The fire was now all but gone from its eyes, and it almost looked… desperate. The experiment made one last attempt to jump over the Pokémon and blast them all, but came up with nothing but sparks. Then its eyes rolled back, and it collapsed limply off to the side of the cargo bay.
I stared at the fallen Pikachu for a long while. At first, the experiment had seemed like our only hope. Then, more like a violent wild card. And now, I couldn't help feeling sorry for it, and what it must have gone through to have ended up like this. Raised as a lab experiment and then branded a failure…
Time seemed to stop as I cautiously edged toward the experiment. I couldn't explain why I was doing it… I just was. Five feet away, an ear twitched, and I flinched. Suddenly, its face snapped toward me, fur standing on end. I stumbled backward, throwing my arms in front of my face. But the hybrid was out of power—nothing came out but sparks. There wasn't much it could do to me now.
"What're you doing?" Rudy hissed. "Didn't you see how crazy that thing is?"
"It's out of power," I said defensively. "And it's not like it's on Tyson's side or anything. It's been fighting against him all this time, so we might be able to—"
"Pikaa'pi," the Pikachu growled, slowly lifting its upper body from the floor and glowering at me. "Pikapi 'chuu pi'piika—"
"Wait, wait, talk slower," I stammered, unable to translate the Pokéspeech quickly enough.
I honestly didn't expect it to listen, but it stopped. It actually stopped, and it gave me a skeptical glare before saying, slowly and deliberately, "*I don't need your pity, human. This is my problem, not yours; stay out of it.*"
"It's not like we asked to be involved in this," I replied heatedly. I was just trying to help him… and admittedly hoping that he would help us in return.
Pikachu didn't reply. In fact, he was now ignoring me in favor of staring at the battle with a pained look on his face. He muttered something under his breath. And then he leaped to his feet and dashed away.
"Wait, come back!" I yelled. But he didn't stop.
"So… think it's gonna help us?" Rudy spoke up all of a sudden.
I shrugged. It was the only response I could give. I had no idea what he was planning. The fight was still raging and he was out of electricity, so I wasn't sure what else he could do.
Crack!
The noise had come from the front of the cargo hold. I couldn't help it—I peeked over the boxes. Pikachu was standing atop a wall of crates, panting hard, his tail glowing. He leaped at the wall and smashed his tail into the window. Cracks spread across the surface.
Tyson spun around. "Number nine, what the hell are you—?" His face went pale. "Stop that thing, now!" he yelled, and his Rhydon lunged forward, smashing through a wall of boxes and slamming a heavy fist into Pikachu. I flinched as the mouse's body flew through the air, landing in a crumpled heap.
"Goddamn it, number nine, either you've got a death wish or you really are stupid enough to think you can escape by jumping out the window," Tyson spat, still pale.
Pikachu slowly picked himself up from the floor, face screwed up with pain. He stared downward for a few moments before nodding to himself, like he'd just decided something. Then he took off running.
I didn't get it. Had he… wanted to put a hole in the plane? But that would let all the air out, and…
Tyson spun around to stare at us in horror, like he'd just made the same realization. "Stop that thing now or we're all dead!"
Pikachu shot past me towards the back of the jet. Without thinking, I bolted after him, not even sure what was driving my legs forward.
"No, please don't!" I yelled, unsure of what else to do.
He paused suddenly. No way—he had actually listened to me? It was only for a second. Then he shot toward Spencer's Electabuzz.
"What is he—?" I gasped.
"Electabuzz, stop him!" Spencer called out in confusion.
The electric-type threw up its arms and unleashed a blast of lightning. Pikachu didn't even attempt to dodge—the attack struck, and he cried out in pain, tail raised high. But he just stood there, taking the attack. Almost like it was what he'd wanted. Electabuzz glanced back at Spencer in confusion before ending the blast. The rest of the electricity flowed into the hybrid's body, and his eyes snapped open with a newfound fire.
"Did… did he just absorb the lightning?" I muttered, stunned. No one answered. None of us knew what to do now. Tyson's Raticate shot past us in a blur, but even with its speed, it wouldn't catch up in time. Pikachu glanced back at me with… almost an apologetic look. Then he turned away and fired all his power at the wall before collapsing.
Everything happened too fast to process. First lightning, then an explosion ripping through the back of the plane. Air rushed out, pulling me toward the hole. My arms flailed in a panic, grasping at the ropes around the boxes closest to me. Then the sound of a Pokéball opening, followed by a high-pitched beam, and the airflow suddenly stopped.
It was all over within a few seconds. I lay there in a daze, breathing hard and taking a few seconds to realize that I could still breathe. Then I whirled around to see that the hole was completely sealed with glittering ice crystals. How…?
A Dewgong sat next to Spencer, exhaling frosty air. Spencer collapsed against the Pokémon's side, letting out a huge sigh of relief.
I stared openmouthed. "That… that was quick thinking."
"Yeah? It happens sometimes," Spencer said, rubbing the back of his head before patting the ice-type. "Nice one," he said.
Except… the hole may have been sealed, but that wasn't the only damage that had been done. Through the window, I could see black smoke billowing from a ruined tail engine. Were we losing altitude? Were we going to crash?
Tyson was having a furious back-and-forth over his communicator with someone. "It's not my goddamn fault, it was number nine!" He listened to the response with a look of building rage before roaring back, "I've been trying to!" and shutting the device off.
Then his eyes fell on us. "This is all your fault," he snarled, reaching for his belt.
The horrible truth hit me—after all the commotion, we weren't behind cover anymore. Tyson had just grabbed his gun, he had a clear shot, but Spencer didn't look concerned? Why not?!
And then all I could do was stare dumbfounded as Typhlosion leapt from nowhere and grabbed Tyson in a bear hug, knocking the gun aside.
"What," I said stupidly.
"Hey, that worked even better than I expected," Spencer said, giving a massive sigh of relief. "It's always great when that happens, y'know?"
I stared. "How… how did you…?"
"Well, I knew we'd never get anywhere with him having a gun and all, so with all the Pikachu chaos, I told Typhlosion to hide and take him down the first chance he got,"
I couldn't think of anything to say. I was too shocked by how much the tables had turned in our favor with just that one move.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?! Do you have any idea who you're dealing with?!" Tyson raged, struggling against Typhlosion's hold.
"I think we're dealing with someone I just beat," Spencer said. "You should probably recall your Pokémon now; it'll make things easier."
Typhlosion flexed his claws threateningly to emphasize the point, letting waves of heat shimmer around them. Tyson's Pokémon were standing still, blankly awaiting orders. Almost like they couldn't think for themselves. Clenching his teeth, Tyson managed to unclip two Pokéballs from his belt and recall his Pokémon
"So, how about you tell us if there's any chance we can land this thing," Spencer said simply.
Tyson glared. At first it seemed like he wasn't going to say anything. But after several seconds, he finally replied, his words extremely slow like it was painful just talking to us. "With a missing engine, we probably won't reach the base we were supposed to land at."
"Eh, well, the Rocket base didn't sound fun. Anyways, you should probably figure out if we can land it anywhere else."
I know I would have flinched if I'd been at the receiving end of the venomous glare that followed. But still… Tyson must have realized that his only chance at survival meant saving us as well. Taking a deep breath, he said, "I need to check with the pilots, but… if we use the GPS to see if there's a big enough clearing ahead of us, we might have a chance of making a rough landing."
"Alright, sounds like you've got it under control. Typhlosion, you be his copilot, m'kay?" Despite Spencer's bright tone, Typhlosion understood the serious intent behind the request, and released his hold, still keeping a menacing eye on Tyson.
Tyson glowered at the fire beast, but there was nothing he could do. He pulled out his communicator and growled something at whoever was on the other end, most likely the pilots.
"And that's that," Spencer said rather matter-of-factly, walking back to me and Rudy.
At first, all I could do was stare openmouthed. A wave of laughter suddenly overtook me from sheer relief. "That's it, then. We'll be miles away from any other Rockets when we land—there'll be nothing stopping us from getting out of here." The shock was wearing off and my body felt lighter with each passing moment. I couldn't believe it, but we'd won. Well, Spencer had, anyway.
"See, Jade?" Rudy said, elbowing me lightly in the ribs. "Told you we'd be able to get out of this."
I couldn't help laughing again. "You never had to see what the Rockets could really do… but I'm glad."
Still a bit lightheaded, I sank back against a wall of boxes, infinitely glad for a chance to breathe. The adrenaline slowly died down as that crushing feeling of certain death finally vanished. We were going to make it. Now the only problem was figuring out what to do once we landed.
Eh, I'd worry about it when the time came.
I felt warmth by my side; Firestorm had plopped down next to me, looking a bit tired.
"You holding out okay?" I asked.
He nodded. Though I couldn't figure out why he'd been glued to me throughout the whole ordeal, in an odd way it felt… reassuring. And then it hit me—Swift was here too. I grabbed his Pokéball from my pocket, and with a flash of light, the Pidgey appeared, ruffling his feathers.
"It's so good to see you," I said, holding out my arm. He immediately fluttered up to my shoulder and sat there with his feathers fluffed out. It was a familiar, comforting warmth, having him there.
It struck me that I should probably say something. "Uh… Swift, this is Firestorm. Firestorm, Swift." Lame, but I was never very good at introductions.
Despite my failure at figuring out how to start a normal conversation, Firestorm took it upon himself to start one. "*How did you get involved in this?*"
I laughed slightly. "Wrong place at the wrong time. Just like you, I guess."
He nodded. "*I've had lots of that.*"
I wanted to ask him what he'd gone through before I found him, but I couldn't think of a delicate way to ask. After a while, I settled on, "Did… did you even see what caused the fire?"
He hesitated a bit before answering slowly. "*The others all ran away. Some of them were shouting about the Great Fire Beast. I never saw it, though.*"
I stared downward, images from the incident burned into my memory. It still felt bizarre and unreal. "That fire was caused by humans trying to catch Entei. I actually saw it happen, but I couldn't do anything about it."
Firestorm looked a bit puzzled at first. "*Catch? Humans can… catch Legendaries? Just like Pokémon?*"
To be honest, it was not something that had really crossed my mind before, either. The Legendaries had always felt just… on a level above Pokémon or humans. Sure, every school-age kid in the world dreamed of partnering with one, but legends didn't need partners. They were already strong enough to beat any foe. And yet… Entei had been taken by force. And it would probably happen again, unless…
"You know… I met someone who was trying to stop it. He couldn't do it on his own, but he was trying to get people to help him," I said, more thinking aloud than actually hoping for a response.
A voice chirped, catching me off guard. I had been so focused on the Charmander that hearing a different form of Pokéspeech was a bit disorienting. I turned toward Swift and was met with a very intent look. Then my brain finished processing that he'd asked if I was going to help.
"I… hadn't really considered his offer until now," I said weakly. "I mean… what could someone like me do to help?"
"*Legendaries shouldn't be captured,*" the Pidgey replied. I couldn't help feeling surprised by how firmly he'd said it. Swift rarely talked at all, and I never would have described him as forceful.
I couldn't think of anything to say in response, so I just found myself looking away sheepishly. The lull in the conversation suddenly made me aware that I could feel the plane descending more rapidly now. Rudy didn't seem to have noticed it—he'd gone back to digging through the TM box with Ebony. Spencer was chatting away at his Electabuzz and Dewgong.
Swift perked up slightly, like something was about to happen. I was about to ask what was wrong when it happened. First a rumbling impact that shook the whole plane, followed by a sharp slowdown that sent me flying headlong into the side of a crate. I clutched onto it instinctively and screwed my eyes shut as loose items smacked into my back. The air was filled with rumbling, shouting, and the frantic cries of more Pokémon than I could count. Claws gripped my shoulder and I cracked an eye to see Firestorm grabbing hold and refusing to let go.
Finally, after what felt like ages, the plane grinded to a halt. I would have sunk to the floor in relief if I hadn't already been on the floor.
"What the heck was that?!" Rudy yelled, shoving a crate aside and standing to his feet.
"He wanted us to land the plane. It's landed," Tyson replied coldly, a smug edge to his voice. He was now leaning against the doorway to the cargo hold. Typhlosion stood firmly next to him, fixing him with a suspicious glare, but Tyson didn't seem to care anymore.
"Well, I don't know about you guys, but I don't think I'll be flying Rocket Airlines again anytime soon. I say we get out of here now, and worry about spamming them with bad reviews later," Spencer said, walking over.
"Where is here, exactly?" I said, glancing around for a window. I spotted one on the far end of the hangar and started walking toward it, but Rudy beat me there. It looked like we had crash-landed on the edge of a forest, right alongside a rocky outcropping.
"Alright, so… for starters, how do we get out of the plane?" I asked.
"We could try melting through the ice," Spencer said, jerking a thumb toward the hole in the back of the plane. "I've got two fire-types, so—"
"You have another fire-type?" Rudy said, looking shocked. "Why didn't you use it earlier?"
"I didn't need to?" Spencer said, shrugging as he recalled Electabuzz and opened a different Pokéball. The flash of light took the form of a huge striped firedog—taller than any of us. The Arcanine tossed its head with a proud look upon noticing the attention, ruffling its thick, fluffy mane.
"No way…" Rudy breathed, staring at the firedog in awe. "Maybe I should've tried to convince Chloe to come with…"
"Come on, let's get outta here," Spencer said cheerfully, motioning to his Arcanine.
"What are you doing?!" Tyson demanded all of a sudden.
"Getting out of here. Why, do you like having us around?" Spencer asked tauntingly.
Tyson clenched his teeth. "You idiots don't even know where we are. What are you supposed to do, wander around the forest?"
I raised an eyebrow. What was he trying to accomplish… getting us to stay here? How on earth would that help him, given his situation?
Even weirder was the fact that until we had tried to leave, Tyson had seemed weirdly okay with everything that was going on. Earlier he'd been trying his hardest not to explode with rage. Now he just seemed… impatient.
"You guys?" I said, lowering my voice to a whisper. "Anyone else think it's weird that Tyson's not pissed at us anymore?"
"Maybe he found his anger meds?" Spencer said with a weak grin. Rudy and I glanced at each other, then back at Spencer, unimpressed.
"Yeah, okay, that was stupid," he said, putting a hand to his forehead. "Anyways, think he's planning something?"
I couldn't really tell. He wasn't really doing anything, although every so often he'd glance down at the small red and black handheld that he'd been using as a GPS.
Wait… his GPS.
"Oh crap, that's not a phone, is it?" I said, my mouth dropping.
Spencer and Rudy looked up at him immediately. Tyson must have noticed that we were staring at him because he said, "It's a GPS, idiots," before going back to fiddling with the buttons.
"Hey Typhlosion, I really need to have what he's holding. Like, right now," Spencer called out.
"Oh, come on!" Tyson roared before being promptly tackled by the fire beast. After a few seconds of struggle, Typhlosion tossed the black device to Spencer, who caught it.
"Give that the hell back, what do you need it for?!" Tyson raged at us from under Typhlosion's hold.
"I just really love GPSs," Spencer replied as he pressed a button on the device, which had the letters "R-com" inscribed on the front. Both Rudy and I leaned in to get a look at the screen. A half-finished text message read, "Landed on schedule. Requesting your current location and—"
"What," I said flatly, staring at the message. "Don't tell me…"
Spencer flipped through the previous messages in the conversation. "Team dispatched. ETA 1815." "Coordinates sent. Crash time approx. 1810."
All three of us looked up at each other incredulously. I glanced over at Tyson to see an incredibly smug grin. "I was able to call for backup as soon as I figured out where we'd land," he said. "Since we were both converging on the same spot, I bet they'll be here any second."
It felt as though the air had been sucked from the room. For several seconds, no one said anything. There wasn't anything to say. I could already feel a hole in my stomach from dread. We had been in the clear. We were going to make it. And then this.
"Actually!" Spencer exclaimed suddenly. "I just remembered I have somewhere very important to be, so y'know, I'm just gonna have to take a rain check on the whole battling Rockets to the death thing, so sorry I can't make it, very urgent, hope you'll understand, hey guys you're invited too, let's go now, Arcanine!"
On that last word, Arcanine barked out a blazing Flamethrower, instantly bursting clean through the ice at the back of the plane and filling the cargo hold with steam.
"Alright, get on board everyone, or we'll be late for our date with getting-the-frick-out-of-here!" Spencer exclaimed. Rudy nodded sharply, recalling his Pokémon and jumping up onto the firedog's back. I motioned for Swift to follow us in the air before glancing around my feet and seeing Firestorm standing there, looking wary. And then, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted the experimental Pikachu's limp form, still unconscious from destroying the plane's engines earlier.
It was more of an impulse than anything. I dashed over, snatched the Pikachu with my right arm before scooping up Firestorm under my left and throwing a leg over the Arcanine's back. I glanced back at Spencer, who motioned to Typhlosion, who threw Tyson into a pile of boxes and hurriedly dashed forward on all fours, pausing just long enough for Spencer to leap onto its back. That was all I saw before Arcanine sprung through the hole in the ice, landing nimbly on the plane's tail fin before bounding down to the ground.
And then the screeching of tires and what sounded like gunfire tore the air. Spencer shouted something as he and Typhlosion jumped through the ice hole, and then I was nearly thrown off as the firedog bolted forward with an insane rush of speed, apparently trying to avoid something. More yelling, more gunshots. Trees flew by as Arcanine dashed up the side of the rocky ledges alongside the crash site, finally ducking down behind a large boulder, followed by Typhlosion.
I slid down from Arcanine's back, feeling slightly dizzy as I set Firestorm and Pikachu on the ground. "What… what is going on," I gasped, still disoriented.
"The Rockets were on the other side of the jet," Spencer managed. "They tried firing at us; couldn't really get a clear shot, though."
"What do we do now?!" I panicked.
"I don't know, I didn't think they'd be here already!" Spencer exclaimed. "We could just try making a break for it?"
"Can your Pokémon outrun jeeps?" Rudy asked, sounding honestly optimistic about it.
"I don't know—maybe over a short distance?"
At that moment, the jeeps pulled up and skidded to a stop on our side of the jet, throwing dust into the air. I peeked around the ledge to see one of the Rockets jump out in one smooth motion and proceed to look over the damage done to the plane.
"You know, Tyson, when you said the transport jet was going to crash, I never would've guessed it was because of some random stowaway kids and a prisoner you were supposed to bring to me," she said icily. Was she the executive I was supposed to be interrogated by?
"I—but—don't go blaming this on me," Tyson called out. I glanced up to see him now standing on the tail fin, looking bruised and battered. "And why didn't you bring more backup?! Just a bunch of grunts?" He sounded on the verge of losing it.
"Cleaning up after the mess you made of the jet sounds like grunt work to me," she replied lazily. "That leaves me stuck taking care of the idiot kids."
"They're not just kids," Tyson said defensively. "One of them has Pokémon that are a match for my experi—"
"Tyson, your experiments were never all that amazing anyway," she cut in, waving a hand dismissively. "I don't even know why you still bother training them after all the progress that your division's made on number thirty-six."
"Better than using regular Pokémon," Tyson shot back. "And I think you're forgetting that it's what I was assigned to do. Of course, you wouldn't know what that's like because the second you joined, you were—"
"Still going on with that crap about how I was always an executive, is that it?" she replied icily. "I think you should watch what you say there Tyson, unless you feel secure enough in your position to pick fights with me." Tyson flinched and didn't say anything more.
I really had no idea what they were talking about. Especially confusing was the fact that the executive didn't sound much older than eighteen. Could someone so young be ranked that highly on Team Rocket?
"Anyway, if you're done whining, time for me to fix this mess," the executive said, turning and walking toward us, her heavy combat boots kicking up dirt. That was when we got our first real look at her. She had a tough build with a hardened and mature look about her, which almost made me forget that she was probably younger than most of the other Rockets there. The way she carried herself just oozed confidence. Somehow, I couldn't help getting the feeling that fighting her would be a very, very bad idea.
"Spencer, uh… we need a plan. Like now," I muttered, my voice shaking.
"Gimme a sec. At least they can't shoot us while we're back here, right?"
I heard the sound of several Pokéballs opening and looked back at the Rocket to see—"Oh crap, here they come!"
Spencer's eyes went wide with panic as he motioned for his two fire-types to get on our other side so they could attack from behind the rocks. A fierce howl filled the air—it sounded like an Arcanine, but it wasn't Spencer's.
I edged around the corner just enough to see another striped firedog, this one flashing a horrifyingly vicious snarl at us. Typhlosion and Arcanine recoiled slightly, losing some of the tension in their stances.
"Crap, gonna hit us with Intimidate, is that it?" Spencer mumbled through gritted teeth. "Time for ranged moves, then. Both of you, Flamethrower!"
Twin streams of fire flew down the hill, striking the other Arcanine head-on. It snarled as it weathered the assault, wincing despite its fire resistance. But then a tan horse jumped in front of the blaze, scattering the flames as its whole body glowed with a fiery sheen. It didn't even seem to notice that it was being hit. In fact, its fiery mane and tail only intensified.
"Did that just make it stronger? Oh crap, it must have Flash Fire. Typhlosion, stop the Flamethrower and use Dig! Arcanine—" Spencer's face suddenly lit up like he'd just made the best realization of his life. "Dude, I've got it! Typhlosion, quick—use Flamethrower on Arcanine!"
Typhlosion paused its digging just long enough to spit out a fireball before disappearing underground. Arcanine's coat glowed red as the flames seeped into its fur, empowering it.
"Her Arcanine might have Intimidate, but mine's got Flash Fire!" Spencer exclaimed, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. "Now for reinforcements," he said, opening the rest of his Pokéballs. "Electabuzz, hold them back with nonstop Thunderbolts! Dewgong, Brine; Pidgeot, Air Slash; Mightyena, Dark Pulse!"
All of his Pokémon got into position upon hearing the commands, Arcanine already throwing a scarily bright Fire Blast into the fray. But then my eyes lit up when I registered that he had just let out a Pidgeot.
"Wait! You have a Pidgeot! Can't we just fly out of here?!" I exclaimed, jabbing a finger toward the huge eagle taking wing.
Spencer paused, smiling weakly. "It's cool that you think he's that hardcore, but… yeah, no way can he pull off carrying all three of us."
"Crap…" I muttered. "Okay, how about one person rides off on Pidgeot while the others stay here protected by the rest of your team, and then Pidgeot comes back to get the others?"
"I… guess that could work?" Spencer said, rubbing the back of his head.
But then a sudden flash of light blinded me as an earsplitting crack tore the air. I ducked my head and screwed my eyes shut, but the last thing I'd seen was a giant lightning bolt flying overhead. A pitiful cry rang out, followed by the dull thud of something hitting the ground. I dared to open my eyes a crack, and then I saw it. Pidgeot, lying in a crumpled heap, feathers scorched black. Taken down with a single bolt. At the bottom of the hill, a Raichu stood, clearly smirking, with sparks still leaping from its cheeks. It swished its long, inky tail before dashing into the fray.
Spencer was staring wide-eyed at his fallen Pokémon, mouth agape. Slowly, he reached a trembling hand to his Pokéball belt and recalled Pidgeot in a beam of red. In that one moment, the real weight of the situation crashed down on us. It had seemed like we had a fighting chance to get out of here, but… we really didn't, did we?
"Yeah, that would have been us if we'd tried flying away," Rudy pointed out. No one said anything as the implications of his words sunk in.