At this canyon's mouth sat a large building-or, at least, something that barely qualified as one. The structure, though massive, almost looked more like a pile of poorly assembled pipes and scrap metal than an actual building. Like its surroundings, this, too, was a quiet and still place, with only the howling canyon winds to break the silence.Īn earth-rending explosion shattered the stillness. Flames burst from a section of the dilapidated building, followed shortly by screams. People in dark uniforms emerged from the blazing building, their faces masks of panic and confusion. Among the chaos, no one seemed to notice one person in particular dashing away from the scene, with two Pokémon sprinting at his side. "Go, go, GO!" the young man shouted at his companions as he raced for a beat-up motorcycle parked on the desert sand. He sprang nimbly onto the seat, revved the engine, and glanced quickly into the sidecar, where his two partners should have been safely seated-only to find his Umbreon watching him tersely. He glanced over his shoulder and found his Espeon a few yards away, yipping loudly at the people fleeing the burning building, tail waving triumphantly in the air. He didn't speak Pokémon, but the runaway figured if he did, he would be hearing a choice selection of colorful insults. "Espi-esp, esp, esp! Es-SPI!?" The Espeon's barks cut short in a yap of surprise as his trainer hauled him off his feet and shoved him under one arm. He sprinted back to the motorcycle and dumped the creature rather unceremoniously into the sidecar next to his brother, ignoring the Pokémon's cries of indignation.Ī terrifying roar of rage sounded from behind the trio, and the trainer turned his head to see his least favorite person in the world: a massive, hulking man with no hair (though he made up for that with an impressive beard and eyebrows), charging straight toward them, his face red and contorted with unfathomable fury. Several others, clad in dark clothing like the rest, flanked him on either side.Īnger and bitter satisfaction alike swelled inside the trainer's chest. He faced his now-former boss with a growl. "If you're going to threaten me," he said, "call me by my real name." He sneered. The man roared again, this time too incensed to form any words. He barreled toward the trainer and his Pokémon with a murderous expression, but this wasn't Wes' main cause of concern: a flash of light emerged from a Pokéball at the man's belt and took the shape of a metallic bird. The Pokémon spread its wings, emitted a blood-curdling screech, and took to the sky. The motorcycle engine started with a roar, and in one smooth motion, Wes swept astride the motorcycle. He raised his left arm high above his head, sunlight glinting off a strange metal contraption that encased it. Holding a small remote in his hand, he looked his boss dead in the eye, smirked, and pressed the button. The second explosion was, if possible, even more impressive than the first, and nearly knocked every bystander off their feet. The giant man's bellows of rage were drowned out by a monstrous roar as the motorcycle kicked into gear. Its rider slammed on the gas and he launched the bike forward, narrowly missing a dive-bomb from the enraged Skarmory, and soon the crowd of people were left in the dust. Skarmory flew overhead, shrieking horribly as it gave chase. Wes shouted a command to his Pokémon, but he needn't have bothered-his Espeon had already charged up a Psybeam and fired it at his foe.Ī metallic clang followed by another agonized screech told Wes that the Psybeam hit its mark. He glanced over his shoulder to see the bird tumbling out of the sky and down to the sands below. He laughed and let out a whoop of celebration, his companions joining in with triumphant cries, and the trio plowed through the desert until the base and its inhabitants were long out of sight. The sun was sinking below the horizon and the temperatures had started to drop by the time their destination came into view: an old, rusty, seemingly abandoned train car. Near the door, a wooden sign swung lazily in the desert breeze. The crusty thing had been converted into a diner, and though it wasn't much to look at, it was a place Wes was familiar with. Most importantly, it was a place where they would be safe for the night.
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