Chapter Eleven: Capitol
There are several possible reactions to being held at gunpoint. The most common is to scream uncontrollably due to fear. Another possible reaction is to completely lose track of the world in a state of shock and numbly comply with everything your captor says. I just laughed. The third time something happens, including having a lethal weapon pointed in your direction, it’s generally not a very big deal.
It was hard to tell while he had his sunglasses on, but the soldier looked somewhat unsettled by my response. However confusing my response was, his voice was perfectly calm, “Identification, now.” I was about to object about having no such thing, when I vaguely remembered something. I slowly moved my left hand down into my left pocket, controlling the laughter much better than before. The soldier’s finger closed tighter on the trigger, “If you have a weapon, I advise that you put it on the ground. If you try to draw it, you will be shot immediately.”
“Someone’s a little too serious today,” I murmured to myself. Sure enough, my hand tapped against a plastic card when I slipped it into my pocket, and I slowly pulled out a dream that had been nearly forgotten in the nightmare. The card’s lamination was starting to fall apart, and a small smear of blood appeared over the picture on the front side. The entire thing was coated in mud. It was hard to decipher just what it was, but I wiped some of the mud off of it with my sleeve to reveal my trainer’s card; the nearly forgotten object that was supposed to be my most prized possession. It’s amazing how quickly things can change.
The moment the card was readable, I passed it to the man, who carefully examined it for a moment, before passing it back to me with one brisk motion. “One can never be too serious in a state of war,” he replied. With that, he turned around, and walked off through the narrow, dark hallway behind him.
I slipped the card in my pocket and tried to come to a decision. Part of my mind wanted answers, and I suspected he had at least some of them. The rational part wanted nothing to do with a man who had a gun he was clearly willing to use. For possibly the only time in the last several days, my rational side lost.
“Wait,” I ran through the tunnel, not stopping until I reached the soldier, who had paused to let me catch up. “I saw you earlier in Viridian City.”
He nodded slowly, “What of it?”
I paused for a second, trying to think of my reply, “You knew this was coming.” The words echoed softly off of the walls, the statement resonating throughout the hallway. For a long moment there was silence.
“Yes, I did,” he replied curtly. “This is a maximum security area up ahead, kid. You can’t go past this point.”
“But, if you knew it was coming, why didn’t you do anything to stop it?” I blurted out.
“Do you understand that there was nothing we could do? There are two madmen in this country, and quite honestly, my father and I want nothing to do with either of them. The only reason that we even opened our borders to the survivors is that no one else would, and there’s no way in creation that the Oak’s pride was going to let him surrender to save thousands of lives,” he shouted, “You should be thankful for what you have,” with that, he stormed further down the hallway, and opened up a door.
“What’s your name?” I shouted, desperate to know anything.
He stepped into the doorway, and looked back; “Commander Brock, son of Leader Flint and head of the Pewter militia,” with that he stepped through the opening, and slammed the door shut behind him. I walked up to the door he had entered, and pulled on the cold, wet metal handle. It wouldn’t budge, having been locked from the inside.
Back outside, the sun was fully under the horizon. I sighed; it’s never fun to set up a tent in the dark. The city operated under minimal light in the night to avoid air raids, which was great when we weren’t getting bombed, but made things rather annoying at night. I blundered through the darkness, periodically glancing back up at the signs on the side of the road for reassurance. It wasn’t a long walk back to the campsite, but it definitely wasn’t short, a fact which wasn’t helped by the almost total blackness.
When I finally arrived at the field, I found it nearly deserted. I briefly wondered about it, but then decided to worry after I finished setting up my tent. I spread the orange tarp on the ground, inserting poles into loops in the corners of the tent, and finally connecting everything together with a plastic piece. I stepped back for a moment, and noticed a sound from the direction of the Pokémon center. I turned to face it, and focused on the noise for a moment, and then realized that I was hearing cheering. In order for the noise to reach me, it had to have been a fairly large crowd. I shrugged it off, and threw what little gear I had into the tent, when an explosive roar erupted from the crowd, and I decided to see what it was.
I ran back over the asphalt road, each step echoing across the immediate area. As I got closer to the center, a faint glow appeared on the horizon, illuminating the area. Whatever it was, the entire downtown area had been lit up for it, which was surprising considering the risk of air strikes. As I got closer the roar of the crowd grew more intense, until I could barely hear anything else over the shouting.
The crowd was focused at the battle courts behind the Pokécenter, where periodically glimpses of a battle could be seen. A large, iron snake that rose far above the crowd was fighting with something else that was too short to clearly be seen from my distance. “Excuse me, pardon me,” I muttered, as I pushed my way in through the crows, getting several angry glances from soldiers and civilians alike, but always slipping away before they could do anything about it. Eventually, I found myself on the stairs of the gym, which formed a grandstand of sorts to the battle unfolding below. An aging man with a large, brown beard and a face tucked beneath a brown mining helmet stood behind one of the largest Pokémon I had ever seen. It was a Steelix, a large, metal snake that stood almost twenty feet tall when it reared up, making it one of the largest Pokémon in existence, and by far the largest I had ever seen. On the opposite side of the arena, my mother stood behind her first Pokémon, worked up more than I had ever seen her get in a battle.
“Lucario, Aura Sphere one last time!” she shouted, her command audible even over the roar of the spectators.
“Dig, Steelix!”
The iron snake attempted to shift his momentum towards the ground, but Lucario was simply too fast. With incredible speed, the bipedal jackal fired a ball of blue energy at Steelix. The orb exploded on contact, and the massive Pokémon fell to the ground unconscious, but apparently unharmed. The crowd rose to its feet, screaming uncontrollably. Some members, mostly the Pewter militia, were booing, while several others were cheering. My mother’s opponent withdrew his Pokémon, and crossed the battlefield for an obligatory handshake.
As the crowd went crazy, I decided it was time to head back to my tent for the night before my mom could talk to me about the cocoon I’d left in her tent. I’d walked a few yards down the steps, when a hand grabbed my shoulder, “And just where do you think you’re going?” I whirled around to find myself face to face with Brock, who was keeping his hand clenched tightly on my shoulder. “Our parents just had themselves a battle, so why don’t we keep the crowd going,” he was talking loudly, trying to incite the crowd into pressuring me to accept.
I broke away, pushing his hand off of my shoulder, “I don’t have any Pokémon,” I lied. “Can I just get to bed?”
He grinned, the first display of emotion I had ever managed to detect from him, “Really, then if you don’t have any Pokémon, why do you have a trainer’s card?” I flinched, and his grin broadened. “On your honor as a trainer, you’re compelled to accept peaceful challenges whenever possible. You surely haven’t forgotten that have you.”
I sighed, and turned back towards him, “Fine, you’ve got a battle. Two Pokémon on each side, withdrawal when one Pokémon faints, the basics,” I’d always dreamed of saying those words, but in that particular moment, there were very few I would rather say less. I couldn’t hope to beat the son of a gym leader who’d probably been training for more than a decade, and I was going to have to lose quite publicly. “Let’s just get this over with,” I mumbled as I walked towards the battle courts, the crowd parting as Brock and I moved.
The crowd was in confusion, wondering what was happening as two new trainers, faintly resembling the last two combatants entered the arena. My mom’s opponent, the gym leader Flint, watched in silence from the sidelines, smirking slightly, while my mother looked confused, but said nothing. “This will be a two on two Pokémon battle between Kyle Jones of Pallet Town and Brock Stone of Pewter City,” the ref boomed. “Brock will choose the first Pokémon, as the challenger in the match.
Brock smirked from behind his sunglasses, and raised a Pokéball from his belt. “Stefan, let’s go!” In a burst of light, a strange ball of various stones aggregated into a single orb with two arms appeared on the ground, pumping his stone fists in the air as the crowd went wild.
I smiled faintly. Brock may have had experience, but I had a type advantage. “Mel, let’s do this,” I shouted, trying to sound as confident as possible. My mind raced as I tried to think of a good opening move. I had a type advantage to be sure, but Brock was obviously much more experienced than I was. Seeing as how I only had one advantage, though, my choice was already made. “Karate Chop.”
“Counter with Mega Punch,” Brock yelled. Mel rushed across the stadium, but instead of using Karate Chop, he held his arms outstretched, and began to tear into Geodude with his claws in a Scratch attack. Geodude looked perplexed for a moment, but shrugged it off and raised his fist. His hand began to glow with intense white energy, and when it collided with Mankey, the pig monkey Pokémon was blasted back through the air and landed face first in front of me.
“Go into Rock Throw,” Brock commanded. Mel staggered to his feet, and before I could give a command, he charged towards the rock-type before him, nimbly dodging an incoming stone, and slammed into Geodude, his fist charged with powerful chi energy. Geodude flew back across the arena, slamming into the chain link fence at the back of the court and almost going through. As the spectators nearby were sent into chaos, Geodude shook himself off and rolled forwards, ready to fight some more.
“Alright, Mel, you’ve got to listen to me here,” I instructed, trying to keep myself calm. “Go for a Low Kick attack to send him into the air, and we can go from there, alright?” Mel looked back up at me, a rebellious snarl on his face. He may have been apologetic earlier, but he wasn’t willing to trust a new trainer in battle yet. That or his pride wouldn’t allow him to do so.
Brock had been watching quietly as his Geodude crept back into the arena. “Well, will you look at that? The son of a commander who survives five days in the wilderness can’t even get his own Pokémon to obey him. Can you imagine that, Stefan? Let’s put him down quickly with a Rock Smash,” he shouted, intending for the entire arena to hear him.
Geodude slammed his fist into the ground, a spray of rocks rising up from the impact site and showering towards Mankey, who leapt up into the air, and came down upon his foe with a powerful physical blow, knocking Geodude back a few feet, but not doing any noticeable damage.
“Brock smile broadened as he gave his commands, “Finish things off with another Mega Punch, Stefan.”
“Dodge it by jumping,” I screamed, despair barely masked. Geodude rolled forwards once again, a blue glow spiraling around him as he channeled energy into his fist. Mel screamed loudly, and rushed forwards, his own fist glowing with power. Geodude uncurled from his rolling attack, fist ablaze and prepared to strike Mankey down. Before Geodude could even think however, Mel lunged to the side, and slammed his fist down in a powerful Karate chop, throwing up smoke across the arena. Uneasy murmors rolled across the arena as the dust started to settle, revealing one Pokémon victorious, and one lying on the ground in excruciating pain.
Brock’s voice was unemotional, but his gloating smile showed a different story. I didn’t hear what he said, lost in my own thoughts. He could’ve been in a different world for all I cared. There was a Pokémon of mine lying on the ground, a limb twisted gruesomely behind his back. A man intercepted me, “If you enter the court, you forfeit the match by standard league rules,” I brushed him aside, not caring about his message. “I take it that you don’t care. Ladies and Gentlemen, Kyle has been disqualified, Brock wins!” I could vaguely hear the crowd, some ardent supporters of Brock cheering, but for the first time in the night, most of the crowd was silent. It didn’t matter. I stopped in front of Mel, blood leaking from his right arm, which was shattered into pieces by the Mega Punch. Mel gave a soft cry as I knelt down beside him, but was unconscious almost immediately. Several nurses in white uniforms burst into the arena, lifting Mel out on a stretcher of sorts. I watched them numbly as they entered the Pokécenter, but started to leave after only a few minutes, the crowd parting before me.
I didn’t want to be there. Try as I might, memories kept rising in my head, and I started to run, trying to leave the images behind. The usual pained moments were there, but another had joined their ranks. A small bird lay in a clearing, her left wing stained red. The forest was silent, the birds having stopped their songs. Then the forest started to fade into steel and cement, until another Pokémon was drenched in blood, the onlookers once again silent. I raised my head to the sky, letting some tears come now. “Why,” I screamed. “This, this can’t,” I croaked out, collapsing to my knees. The crowds hadn’t arrived yet, and I sat in silence and darkness, finally able to deal with things alone. Some distant, rational aspect of my mind told me I didn’t have any idea how I had gotten here. The rest of me said it didn’t matter. It hadn’t mattered four years ago, and it wouldn’t matter now. I would wake up in the morning again, pretending it hadn’t happened, society telling me it was okay. It wasn’t. It would never be. Some things could never be undone.
Of course, capturing it was the only way to save himself.