The Path of Destiny

[Scytherwolf]

The Path of Destiny
Chapter 55 - Objective

Blazefang shivered as he lay as still as possible, thoughts of what the typhlosion had said about the collar he was now wearing around his neck racing through his head. It would explode after a day if Master didn’t deactivate it each morning, and hitting it with an attack would also bring about the same messy end. Even if he could escape, Blazefang knew that he wouldn’t get far; within twenty-four hours, he would be dead.

For the first time since he had acquired the cursed Forbidden Attack, he had almost wished he could use it, at least at first. In the end, he had quickly realized that without the human to deactivate his collar every day, he’d only be dooming them all.

Yet for some reason, the urge to use the attack never came to him. Blazefang couldn’t figure out why at first, but then he thought back to something that had happened during the initial struggle between him and Master’s pokémon after he was first let out of the poké ball. While he’d briefly tried to run for freedom, one of the pokémon, a machamp, had stuck something sharp into his side. After that, his mind had become very foggy and sluggish, and he hadn’t been able to resist as the fighting type jammed his collar on.

He wondered if the effects of the human drug were suppressing his emotions, dulling his reactions, the things which seemed to be what had begun the drive to use the Forbidden Attack before. The drug’s effects were wearing off now, and he began to get a little fearful at the thought that Shadowflare could take hold of him again. It had been getting harder and harder to resist it, and he couldn’t get the image of the nidoking he had killed out of his mind.

His frightened eyes darted around at his surroundings. He was in some sort of building, some kind of hallway, though it looked nothing like the hallways in the Stonedust library. It was dingy and dark, its ceiling lined with dim rectangular lights that pulsed subtly. There were doors leading to different areas, but they were all closed. And the smells…he wished he could ignore the smells. He could smell fire, blood, and the lingering odor of pokémon of many species, some tainted with illness and infection. And worse than that, almost hidden beneath the rest, but clearly distinctive to his sensitive nose, was the smell of corpses.

Where was he? This couldn’t be Stonedust, could it? Surely that city would not harbor a place as terrible as this. The humans there weren’t even all that bad. Was he back in the abandoned town near the mountain? ‘No…’ he thought to himself, reluctantly taking another sniff of the stale air, ‘there are too many human scents here. This place is anything but abandoned.’ His body gave an involuntary shudder, something telling him that the fact that it was populated was no sign that any of these humans wanted to help him.

He wasn’t even sure how big the place was; he wouldn’t know where to run even if he didn’t have the collar around his neck. And the few pokémon that Master had out of their poké balls were all looking at him like he was a piece of meat. As his eyes met the machamp’s, he pressed his body harder against the cold ground. He remembered how roughly the pokémon had treated him when he put on the collar, how he’d laughed at his cries of pain and slammed him into the ground so that he’d howled in agony. He had heard him and the others mocking him, speculating on how long he’d last, wanting to see him “thrown into the arena,” and Blazefang had a very good idea of what they meant.

Another pokémon, a magneton, seemed to believe he was brought in as nothing more than a punching bag for the stronger pokémon, something that had filled Blazefang’s heart with even more terror. However, the others had pointed out that Master wouldn’t waste a collar on such a pokémon. No, he was here for something important. At least the collar meant that Master wanted him alive for the time being. Yet Blazefang had a strong feeling that, whatever the human wanted, it had something to do with his Forbidden Attack.

Blazefang’s ears flattened against his head as the human approached him. He had never seen a human that scared him as much as this one, and that had nothing to do with the human’s appearance. Though he looked tall and imposing, there was something else about Master that made Blazefang too terrified to attack him. He knew that, for some reason, he would find it hard to fight back even if doing so wouldn’t end with his death one way or another.

Completely unafraid, Master reached down and placed his hand beneath Blazefang’s chin, tilting the houndour’s head up toward him. Blazefang’s body shook as he was forced to stare into the eyes of the man he knew had power even over pokémon like Thunder.

“You look a little unimposing,” Master said in a voice that sounded so uncharacteristically smooth and gentle. “But that can be fixed.” He removed his hand and reached into the bag he had been carrying.

Blazefang’s mind raced with fear. From the looks of the other pokémon, Master’s idea of imposing seemed to mean “covered with scars.” He was sure that he was reaching for another poké ball, preparing to unleash another wound-covered monster on him, to tell it to slice into his body until he looked just like the others.

To his surprise, when Master pulled out his hand, he was not holding a poké ball. Instead, he was holding a fist full of what looked like human candy, in blue shiny wrappers. He scattered them at Blazefang’s feet.

“Eat,” he demanded.

Blazefang stared at the candies. He certainly had no intentions of eating them. Just what had this trainer put in them? If it was to toughen him up, it had to be poison, or something even more horrible. His mind raced with possibilities as he stared at the objects on the ground.

“He said EAT!” the machamp snarled, and before Blazefang had a chance to react, the muscular pokémon grabbed the fur on the back of his neck, pulling his skin back painfully and jerking him upright so that he was nearly hanging, his paws barely touching the ground. His eyes watered as the pokémon’s other sets of hands wrenched open his muzzle, and the first candy was forced into his mouth.

Luckily, the pokémon had had the sense to tear the wrapper off, and Blazefang didn’t have a chance to spit out the candy before his mouth was forced closed. Having no choice but to swallow, Blazefang whined in terror, wondering just what effect the strange food would have on him. Though he could feel fear racing through his body, the sensation was still dulled, his mind still a bit too foggy to feel the full effects. He could start to feel the urge to use his Forbidden Attack rising, but it was more dulled, subdued, just like the rest of his mind, and he was able to fight back against it.

After the second candy was forced down his throat, he began to notice an effect. To his surprise, it wasn’t unpleasant. In fact, he had felt this way when learning new attacks back at the mountain. It was as if the candy simulated that in some way, or perhaps it was forcing it to happen.

His fear subsiding, he swallowed the second candy and gasped, “All right. I’ll eat. Just-”

“You will stay quiet NOW!” the machamp growled, and Blazefang’s eyes widened in newfound terror before his body was slammed painfully into the wall.

As stars exploded in his vision, he felt himself being swung back through the air, his side hitting the opposite wall before the machamp lifted him fully into the air, dangling by nothing but the skin on the back of his neck. He whimpered, his legs flailing feebly, astonished at the fact that he hadn’t fainted from the impact. Pokémon weren’t supposed to use that sort of force on opponents smaller than them, not in trainer battles. They weren’t supposed to make their opponents walk away from battle with serious injuries.

Yet he knew that Master was not someone worthy of the title “trainer” like Damian or Katie or Justin were. If Thunder herself was any evidence, these tough pokémon were used to seeing serious injuries…and experiencing them themselves.

As his vision cleared, Blazefang caught sight of Master’s face. The trainer was staring at the scene, impassively, seeming to know that Blazefang could not yet use his Forbidden Attack, or that he would resist it out of fear for his own life. He did nothing to stop the machamp as he was force-fed another candy, still hanging painfully above the cold floor as the other pokémon laughed and jeered at his painful whimpers.

“Look at the little houndour!” they called.

“Fresh meat for the arena!”

“Just a snack, more like!”

“Been a while since I saw a baby pokémon in there. He must be the entertainment!”

“Keep the fighters satisfied for blood before the real battle!”

Blazefang’s eyes widened as their words reached his ears. How could they possibly laugh at this? Weren’t they being subjected to the same thing? What had happened to these pokémon to turn their minds into something so twisted? Here they were, joking and laughing about battles to the death, when back at the mountain, it had been considered a great offense to even make a joke about killing prey, something that was needed for the houndour’s survival. Yet these pokémon seemed to love the idea of him being torn into bits, for nothing more than a bit of sick entertainment. Thunder had seemed positively sane in comparison.

As the machamp reached for yet another candy, and Blazefang began to whimper involuntarily with pain, he thought he heard, from somewhere deeper in the complex, a cry of pain – no, utter agony – from another pokémon in some dark room or hallway just like he was. It was then that it set in, fully set in…

…That he was very likely going to die.

-ooo-

“Where did he go?” Arien asked, the alakazam’s serious gaze sweeping over the pokémon who had remained behind at the camp while the others had gone off to the library.

Wildflame, Redclaw, and Rosie all turned their heads and pointed their snouts beyond the ravine, off into what seemed like just an open, rocky plain, lined with trees after a fairly large distance. There was no sign of any buildings that way, nothing that could have indicated what Master had been heading toward, if anything.

“Did he run back out in the wilderness…just like that?” Snowcrystal asked fearfully.

“Couldn’t have,” said Scytheclaw, his voice angry, but with a tinge of something else Snowcrystal couldn’t identify. “If he was this close to the city, he would have been heading there for a reason. Probably to meet up with some of his little buddies, if you ask me.”

Snowcrystal gave him an astonished look, wondering how someone like Master could ever have friends, or even mere acquaintances. “But…but we first found him hiding out in some abandoned town. That must mean he’s running from something. The police must know who he is!”

“Yes…smart for a wild pokémon,” Scytheclaw said snidely, glaring at her. “Or maybe he’s hiding so that he can prevent them from finding out in the first place. We don’t know.”

“But he was here. We could get the police to find him!” Snowcrystal cried.

Justin, glancing from one pokémon to another in confusion, waited for a translation from Damian. Upon getting one, he looked horrified at the suggestion. “No, no, no, no, NO!” he shouted, his hands moving up to the sides of his head in a frightened gesture. “We can’t go to the police! You know who else the police will be looking for? The people that burned the library!”

At this, even Damian froze. He and the pokémon all stared at Justin as he continued, “They’ll find us. They’ll find the evidence…they’ll be looking at everything! Someone had to have seen us around the building…and it wasn’t like we managed to just sneak out with one book no one would notice was gone unless some famous researcher showed up at Stonedust, we set the place on fire! And did you hear those people in the street? They think it was Team Rocket! They’re going to be serious about this! The police are not going to rest until they find out who did it.” The boy’s eyes were wide and terrified now, in a way none of them had ever seen him before. Seeing this, Spark rushed to his side, rubbing his head on Justin’s leg, but the boy hardly seemed to notice. “They’re going to find us!” he cried. “They’re going to lock us up, take away our…our pokémon, and…and…”

Though Snowcrystal had never thought highly of Justin, due to his treatment of Stormblade in both the past and present, she couldn’t help feeling sorry for him. He didn’t look like an angry, abusive trainer anymore, but instead a clearly terrified and devastated boy who seemed so lost and hopeless. Carefully, she sidled up to him, resting her head on his knee after he slowly slumped to the ground, tears forming in his eyes.

The other pokémon looked shocked at his reaction, and each of them glanced to one another in uncertainty, save for Nightshade and Redclaw, who approached Justin as well. Nightshade sat beside him, while Redclaw curled around the form of the boy, the heracross, the jolteon, and the growlithe. Justin seemed too distraught to continue, and, quite contrary to his usual demeanor, lowered his head and began sobbing.

Rosie glanced to Wildflame in confusion, and Scytheclaw merely stared at Justin in disgust. Alex had gone strangely silent, wondering just what had triggered such a response from the normally confident and collected trainer.

“Justin…” Damian began, kneeling down toward the smaller boy. “We…we can get Katie to talk to the police. She wasn’t involved and…” Realization dawned on him, and he looked at Justin sympathetically. “Are…you afraid they’ll see you aren’t a registered-”

“SHUT UP!” Justin cried, leaping to his feet and knocking Spark, Snowcrystal, and Nightshade away. “Just shut up! That was NOT my fault! Okay, sure, I left Scyther out in the snow. But I wouldn’t have done it if I’d known THAT was going to happen! Okay, so maybe you’re all right and it wasn’t my scyther who attacked that girl, but either way, they blame me, and because of that, my life as a trainer was ruined. Now if the police so much as question us, I’m going to get found out! If anyone saw Katie with me they’ll make her ask me. And you too, and oh, they’ll also find all these wild pokémon here at the scene of the attack, and their arcanine and growlithe are going to find OUR scents, Damian. We can’t bring the police here! We just can’t, okay?” When Damian merely stared at him in shock, he continued, “How’d you like to be in jail once they realize that you match the description of a person someone saw near the library, and they decide to investigate further?” His eyes narrowed and his hands clenched into fists as Damian stepped back. “I don’t know what they’d do to me, but considering you’re over eighteen…it’d be much worse for you. Think about that before you do something stupid!”

“I…I’m sorry,” Damian stuttered. “I just thought, maybe…”

“No, you didn’t think!” Justin shouted at him, and before any of the others could stop him, he turned and walked away from the group. Snowcrystal thought he was going to run off somewhere alone, but he stopped at the edge of the ravine, staring out in the distance, seemingly at nothing in particular. Spark got up to follow him, but the others stayed put.

“Enough about the pathetic human,” Scytheclaw muttered, ignoring a glare from Arien that was shot in his direction. “We need to find a way to track Master down. No doubt he intends to force Blazefang to use the attack, and if he does use it anywhere near that city, or worse yet, the trees, lots of pokémon are going to die. But a human like that is going to make sure he can’t be followed. He would have had a pokémon use fly to leave the area once he was out of sight.”

“So if the police can’t find him, how are we supposed to?” Wildflame asked.

“We don’t need to find him specifically,” Scytheclaw spat back. “We just need to find the illegal fighting ring.”

“The what?” Alex asked, though the answer appeared to dawn on her a moment after she said it.

“Think about it. Why else would Master risk coming this close to the city with his fighting monsters? There’s got to be a tournament soon, an opportunity to make a lot of money. And he had to be coming here to meet the other scumbags taking part in it. Think he’d risk alerting the police just to wander around with horribly abused pokémon, hoping he’d come across some random powerful wild ones in a ravine?”

The others stared at him in astonishment. What Scytheclaw was saying started to make a lot of sense, and Snowcrystal reminded herself that the scizor had once had another trainer before Damian, before his role as leader of the canyon pokémon.

“There were some shady looking humans around when we were leaving the library tonight,” Scytheclaw continued. “I don’t know if any of you idiots noticed, but-”

“Actually,” Redclaw interjected, “we did see a couple of weird trainers when we came back from the pokémon park. They had a ninetales and a vileplume, and something just seemed…off about them. I thought at first that maybe they’d noticed Snowcrystal’s fur was dyed, but now…”

“A lot of speculation, for something we know very little about,” Arien stated, drawing the attention of the other pokémon.

Scytheclaw’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, and what’s your idea, genius? Going to go up and ask them politely if they’re part of a criminal organization?” He scowled when the alakazam did not react. “I know what I’m talking about!” he spat with sudden anger. “If you’ve got a better theory, I’m sure we’d all love to hear it, but if you don’t, I’d suggest you-”

“No,” Arien continued, his voice betraying worry rather than anger at Scytheclaw’s taunts, “I believe that you’re right about this. But we have no way to tell which trainers are a part of it…and I don’t believe we would get any information out of them at all.”

“But you’re a psychic type!” Rosie exclaimed. “Go try to…sense where they or their pokémon are or whatever it is you do!”

“It’s not that easy or that simple,” Arien replied, “but…even if it was…I’m not the only psychic type. They will have many on their side as well, pokémon who are trained to throw off other psychics used by trainers who would try to seek them out. Scytheclaw is right; we are probably looking at a massive organized crime, not two trainers fighting their pokémon to death in a basement. They will have prepared for something like this.”

“So what do we do?” Wildflame asked, and as Snowcrystal turned to her, she noticed that the houndoom looked far more worried than she had ever seen her. She knew it shouldn’t have surprised her; Blazefang may not be the friendliest pokémon, but he was Wildflame’s pack-mate. “Master wanted Blazefang for his Forbidden Attack. He’s probably going to use it to fight these…battles to the death…and if we don’t find a way to this place, either Blazefang will die, or…”

“Or every pokémon and spectator in the arena could die,” Nightshade finished. The heracross straightened up, his eyes moving over everyone present, even Justin and Spark from where they sat some distance away. “I don’t believe Master has any idea what Blazefang’s Forbidden Attack will actually do in an area where it could spread. He only saw it out here, where there was nothing to burn.” He looked out over the flat, rocky landscape, where the singed ground left a painful reminder of what had occurred there. “We need to find a way to this place immediately.”

“But how?” Rosie asked.

“Yeah,” Alex interjected, standing beside her. “If we can’t go to the police…” She glanced at Justin. “…Then what will we…”

“We don’t have enough evidence to go to the police!” Scytheclaw snarled. “And if they see that…” He waved his claw toward the scorched area where Shadowflare had left its mark. “…Evidence of a fire similar to the one that burned down that forest you told me about, do you think they’re going to ignore that and go after some random trainer, who may or may not have taken a wild houndour from here?”

“We have the collar Master used!” Wildflame growled, angling her head toward the remains of the Nidoking. “They see that, and they’ll know they’re dealing with a pokémon abuser. Look, I don’t like most humans either, Scytheclaw, but if this is the way to save Blazefang, then I-”

“Wait,” Arien interjected, managing to make himself heard as the two pokémon began to bicker. “Scytheclaw has a good point. Pokémon abuser or not, the police won’t have enough evidence to tell where Master went or who he even was. Bringing them here would only result in an investigation of the fires along with the library incident. They’ll be looking for a culprit that is no longer here, and the last thing we want is for the police to be more distracted than they already are. We need to find this fighting ring, and once we do, we can lead the police to it.”

“But…but Justin said…” Alex began.

“Katie can alert the police,” Arien replied simply. “At this point we don’t have much of a choice. Justin can stay clear if he wants to; they’re unlikely to question him just because he may have been seen with Katie. This isn’t something we are likely to be able to do on our own.”

Each member of the group fell silent at these words, knowing that this time, there was probably no avoiding an encounter with the police, in spite of the risks it posed to Damian and Justin. After several long moments, Damian strode over to Justin, likely to relay to him everything the pokémon had said. Snowcrystal watched him talk to the boy, who, contrary to his previous outburst, said nothing and merely stared into the bottom of the ravine.

Snowcrystal knew that, if they were going to involve the human police, they would have to be especially careful. As much as she was starting to think it was a bad idea, she knew that, with what they were up against, it was probably their only real hope of getting Blazefang - and possibly even Thunder, if the group would take her – back.

-ooo-

“Okay, this is all we’ve got to go on until we find out more,” Katie began the next day, several hours after the events of the previous night had been explained to her. To no one’s surprise, she had not reacted well, but luckily, urgency drove her to move on and look for solutions rather than focus on their mistakes. She currently stood near a street on the edge of the city, facing the entire group – both humans and wild pokémon – as they listened attentively. “If we’re going to cover a lot of ground, we’re going to have to split up. If you see or hear anything suspicious, try to find out as much as you can. And above all…be careful.” She turned to Damian. “Let’s hope your scizor is right.”

“He’s got to be,” Damian replied. “There’s something going on around here with Master…and the other trainers…and it’s got to be happening soon.”

“Well then let’s hope we find some information,” she replied, “so that I can go to the police.”

Damian nodded in response. Justin said nothing, but although he did not protest, the others could see from his fearful expression that he was still not at all comfortable with that part of the plan.

“Then we’ll get the houndour back,” she finished, looking over all the pokémon before turning to Damian. “You’ve got your pokégear?” she asked, and he nodded. “Good. We’ll call each other if we find anything. Everyone meet back here by sunset, and we’ll figure out what to do. Justin, you’ve got the phone?” She looked to the boy, who nodded and held up the cell phone they had gotten for him in the city. “Good.” Taking all six of the poké balls she’d brought with her, she threw them in the air, releasing her current team all at once.

The six pokémon formed, revealing Sid the aipom, an azumarill, a quilava, a sylveon, an ursaring, and a scolipede. They all looked to Katie expectantly, having had the plan briefed to them earlier, as Damian released his six pokémon.

“You guys all know the drill,” she told them. “Keep track of where you’re going because you’ll need to find your way back, don’t get in trouble, and…uh…Snowcrystal needs to go with someone.”

Snowcrystal looked down at herself; she’d thought that with the die they’d put in her fur that morning, she looked like a normal growlithe, but part of her did understand why they would want her to travel with another pokémon just in case.

“She can go with me!” Spark offered, and Katie nodded in reply, knowing what his intentions were despite not understanding his words.

“And remember…try to act like you’re all on errands for a trainer, okay?” Katie asked, giving a satisfied nod as the pokémon cried out in agreement. “With all of you searching…let’s hope one of us finds someplace where these trainers could be meeting up.”

After that, the pokémon all began to disperse, many of them carrying cloth bags filled with small items that Katie had bought at some store earlier, making them appear just like they were pokémon running errands. Even Rosie, who, out of all of them, was the least trustful of humans, had agreed to wear one and help search the city for any sign of suspicious trainers that might give them a clue. With the moves she had learned from the trainers’ TMs earlier, she felt confident that she could fend off an attack.

The weaker pokémon were to head toward more populated areas, where they would be helped should they for any reason get attacked. The strongest, such as Scytheclaw and Nightshade, were to search the back alley passageways. Arien could not keep track of them all, especially not at any great distance, so for the most part, they would be on their own.

Apart from Spark and Snowcrystal, that is. The two padded side by side as they left the others and took a path that led to a neighborhood with some pleasant-looking houses. Considering the threat of someone noticing something off about Snowcrystal, she had been told to search the upper class areas of the city, where the houses had very strong and capable guard pokémon, should anything happen to her. Spark was happy to go along with her, even if it meant going to an area where they were far less likely to come across any shady trainers.

For the next few hours, they walked up and down neighborhoods, stopping at one point to eat some pokémon snacks from Spark’s pouch, then carrying on again. At one point, when they had come to a neighborhood where the houses were large and grand, with massive, beautiful gardens surrounding them, Snowcrystal realized that she recognized the place.

This was the neighborhood they had wandered into the previous evening after the incident in the Pokémon Park. As she realized this, she looked around hopefully for the cheerful umbreon with the purple rings, but he was nowhere in sight. She then remembered that he was a naturally nocturnal pokémon, and realized he would probably be sleeping somewhere.

Turning to Spark, she began to muse about thoughts that had been on her mind all that morning. “I really hope we find the arena before this…tournament is over,” she said, remembering what Scytheclaw had told them about what he knew of these types of fighting rings. If Master had come to Stonedust City in particular, it was probably for a big gathering. An opportunity for him to earn a lot of money. If they found the arena after he left, or if he hadn’t come for that reason at all, then they would have no way to find their houndour friend. “We don’t even know what days Master will be battling or how long he’ll stay.”

“That’s what we’re going to find out,” Spark told her, beaming with confidence. She couldn’t help but feel a bit encouraged by that. If Spark thought they stood a chance at finding him, they probably did.

She hadn’t brought up Thunder the entire time. In fact, no one had. She figured that, at the very least, they could find her and set her loose in the wilderness, though a part of her knew that would not be a good idea; Thunder didn’t even know how to hunt properly. They could turn her over to the authorities, along with any other pokémon they managed to free, but somehow that didn’t feel like a good solution either. It would probably be more traumatic for Thunder, and in spite of the terrible things she had done, Snowcrystal didn’t want her to suffer any more.

Despite this, she found it easy to put it in the back of her mind, focusing instead on finding a trainer who knew about the fighting ring. Then they could do something to help her and Blazefang. They continued walking, occasionally passing another pokémon either playing or lounging in the gardens. They weren’t surprised when none of them had any information on any strange activity. Because there were so few pokémon up and about that day, there wasn’t much to stop and look at, so they covered a lot of ground quickly.

The next few hours passed uneventfully. Snowcrystal hoped that the other pokémon had found something out, and that they weren’t all wasting large amounts of valuable time. She told herself that Nightshade and Scytheclaw had to have found something; as the most powerful pokémon in the group, they were the ones exploring the places in the city where trainers who were a part of the blood sport would most likely be. She was also starting to get hungry, which irritated her, because she certainly did not want to be distracted.

When they rounded another corner in the sidewalk and began walking alongside a white metal fence adorned with carved, painted flowers, they came upon the first unusual thing they’d seen that day. It was so unexpected, that Snowcrystal momentarily forgot her own discomforts.

It wasn’t a suspicious trainer, or even a trainer at all, but a pokémon. A pokémon that was clearly panicked. It was a durant, and it was clearly out of place in such a well kept neighborhood. Its metal armor coating was covered in dust, and it smelled of someplace damp and filled with the sort of dust that reminded her of parts of the library, like it had come from an old or dirty building. However, there were no wounds on its body, no sign of even malnutrition. This certainly wasn’t a pokémon that had a trainer like Thunder, but in spite of that, she felt herself drawn to it, something telling her that this pokémon could have answers. At the moment, the durant hadn’t noticed them, and was skittering at a surprisingly fast pace across the road toward a group of houses.

“Hey, buddy, wait up!” Spark called out to it, and the bug type stopped in its tracks, its head turning toward the jolteon.

“Who are you?” the ant pokémon called, and though Snowcrystal wasn’t familiar enough with the species to tell just by looking at it, its voice gave away the fact that it was male.

“We’re, uh…we’re just passing through the neighborhood,” Spark began, trotting closer to the durant. “But we need some help and were wondering if you could answer a few questions-”

The durant shook his head furiously. “No,” he said, turning and beginning to scurry away from them again. “Gotta get away from here.”

“Why? Is someone after you?” Snowcrystal asked.

“Yeah, hold up!” Spark cried, putting on a burst of speed until he caught up with the bug type. His paws skidded to a stop as the durant reluctantly halted. “Are you hungry? We’ve got a bit of food, and-”

“NO!” the pokémon responded, lowering his antennae as he moved his body closer to the ground. “Please leave me alone. I want to be out of here by nightfall.”

“We can show you the way out!” Spark cried. “We just want to ask a few questions first.”

“Tell me the way out, then,” the durant demanded. “I can get there faster than you can; I have no reason to follow pokémon who can’t even climb up fences.”

“Calm down,” Snowcrystal told him in what she hoped was a reassuring tone. The pokémon seemed incredibly nervous, even though there was no immediate danger. “We’ll help you. We just want to know if you know of anything…unusual going on in the city right now, or sometime soon.”

“What sort of unusual thing?” he asked, sounding genuinely confused.

“Any trainers meeting up?” Spark asked. “Talking about something suspicious? Heard anything about a…about a place where pokémon fight to the death for humans?”

At this, the durant’s eyes went wide. “You mean that place my trainer goes to?” he spat, sounding considerably more frightened as he stared at the two.

Snowcrystal’s heart leapt. This was it. This was what they were looking for. A pokémon who knew of the place and could tell them how to find it. But then she realized that the pokémon looked quite frightened, even though he wasn’t hurt, and she felt bad for having to ask him. Yet she knew if she didn’t, even more lives could be lost in that disgusting arena than before. “Uh…yes, I think so. It’s a big underground fighting arena…have you seen it?”

“The arena? No,” the durant replied in a shaky voice. “I’ve never seen the arena…my trainer never let me out there but…” His voice trailed off, and his body started to shiver. “My trainer wouldn’t come around here, you don’t think?” he asked fearfully.

“I doubt any scumbag who goes to dirty old arenas to kill other people’s pokémon would risk showing their face around here,” Spark said reassuringly.

“You’d be surprised,” the durant responded. “A lot of them don’t look like ‘scumbags.’ In fact, some of them probably live here.” He gestured with his head around at all the grand-looking homes surrounding them. “The fighters…the really good fighters…they make a lot of money from the battles there…”

Snowcrystal glanced around at all the beautiful houses in shock, suddenly wondering if any of them housed an abuser as cruel as Thunder’s trainer. It certainly wasn’t what she had imagined when she thought of abusive trainers; she had pictured filthy-looking humans lurking in an alley somewhere.

“My trainer only makes bets, but…” The durant shivered again. “I can’t go back there. He doesn’t even care about pokémon training anymore. Cares more about winning money and buying his stupid alcohol than getting food for his pokémon half the time. Sure, there were always plenty of scraps to scavenge around the city, but…I can’t let him drag me back to that place again. I’d rather go back to the wild.”

“I think you can help us,” Spark said, “and we will help you. Now, do you remember where this place is? How we can get to it?”

The durant shook his head. “I was in my poké ball most of the time…but I know the building is a big department store…I caught a glimpse of it one time when we were coming out. My trainer let me out of my poké ball after we’d walked through a door into the bottom story of the building, but…that’s all I can tell you. I don’t know why you’d want to go there in the first place.”

“What else can you tell us about that store?” Spark asked. “Did it look different? Some distinguishing feature?”

“I…I don’t remember much,” the durant admitted. “This was from one of the other times I was brought there. A while back…but the store sold a lot of clothes.”

“Argh, that could be any of them!” Spark cried, digging his claws against the sidewalk as he threw his head back in frustration. “There’s gotta be something else. Anything else you can remember about it?”

“Er…it had a bunch of blue umbrellas out in the front,” the bug type answered. “At least it did when I saw it. I really don’t remember what it looked like. So many buildings look the same to me.”

“All right,” Spark said with a sigh.

Snowcrystal perked up, an idea suddenly coming to her. “Wait,” she said, “can you tell us where your trainer lives?” She hoped that, if they could find him, there would be some way for them to learn more about where the arena actually was.

A change seemed to come over the durant as he looked back at the two pokémon. He sounded oddly satisfied as he replied, “He’s in the Roserade Hotel. Room 42. Or, if you know any flying types, the fourth window up on the far right of the back of the building. If you can find a way to let the human police or their pokémon know he’s involved…that would be great.”

“We’ll see what we can do,” Spark laughed, looking immensely relieved now that they had another source of information.

“I have another question,” Snowcrystal began, remembering that they needed to know how much time they had. “When exactly is this tournament…starting?”

“It already has,” the durant replied.

Snowcrystal and Spark stared in horror for a moment, but Snowcrystal quickly realized that if Master had used Blazefang in the battles, some sort of disaster would have happened already. However, this did mean that he could choose to do it at any time. “When did it start?” Snowcrystal asked. “Do you know how long before it ends?”

“It’s been going on for the past week,” the steel ant replied, his fearful demeanor beginning to return. “But that was more the lower class rounds…the less skilled trainers, I mean. The big name trainers are going head to head starting tonight. That’s when the other trainers really start betting. I knew my trainer was going to-”

“Wait a minute, tonight?” Spark cried, jumping a bit in surprise. “You can’t be serious! We’ve only got a few hours ‘till nightfall, and you’re telling me Thunder’s Master is going to…going to…” He shook his head. “Well, do you know who exactly will be fighting next?”

“All of them, I think!” the durant replied fearfully, startled by Spark’s outburst. “The most skilled trainers fight at least once every time this part of the tournament starts. Winners go on to the next round and losers fight again in the lower ranking tournament. People bet on their pokémon and bet on who will be the last victorious trainer standing. So you’d see-”

“Was there a trainer with a houndour there?” Snowcrystal asked. “Or…or a really scarred scyther?”

“I don’t know!” the durant cried. “I don’t usually see their pokémon! I’m sorry, that’s all I know about it.”

“It’s okay, you’ve been a big help,” Snowcrystal told him, and the ant pokémon looked at her gratefully. “Just one more thing…do you know anything about how your trainer gets into this place?”

“She doesn’t mean what it looks like,” Spark quickly interjected, obviously thinking the same thing Snowcrystal had. “She means, is there some sort of password or something the trainers need to get to the part of the store that leads to the arena?”

“Yeah…” the durant began. “Each of the trainers all have this fake Molten Badge with a small carving of a lugia on the back. Looks normal from the front, but…I think the trainer has to show it to the human at the small counter on the first floor. At least, that’s what River – my trainer’s vaporeon – told me, anyway. I was never out of the poké ball when he did that.”

“Okay, thanks,” Snowcrystal told him, suddenly aware of how quickly they needed to find the others. It was nearing sunset already.

“All right, to get past the city, you just need to keep heading in that direction,” Spark explained to the durant, pointing with his paw past a group of houses. “If you get lost, just follow the street until the houses get smaller, and from there you should be able to see the trees and rocks from somewhere high up. You’re really not far.”

“Thanks,” the durant replied, and before either of them could say anything more, he took off.

This time, instead of following him, the two of them began to race back in the direction of the meeting place, only just realizing how far they had to travel before they reached it. Yet both Snowcrystal and Spark were used to traveling long distances, and they did not tire easily. They were determined to make it as soon as possible.

-ooo-

“Are you sure we can’t go to the police now?” Katie asked nervously as the group of trainers and pokémon, now reunited, stood beneath the Roserade Hotel. Damian and Katie had returned their pokémon, not wanting to make it appear as if they were walking with more than six each. She sighed as she glanced nervously around before staring up at the back of the building.

“That durant didn’t give enough information,” Justin replied. “And it’s not like the arena’s in some abandoned warehouse somewhere; I don’t think the police can just waltz in and search an entire store without any evidence.”

As much as Katie knew Justin was afraid to alert the police, she had to admit that he was right. The word of one pokémon, told through two other pokémon, wasn’t enough to warrant a search, and it wasn’t the sort of thing the police would want to be distracted by with the recent library incident and the ongoing investigation of anything they believed was related to Team Rocket. They probably had no idea if there was even anything major happening in the underground battling world at the moment, and even if they got their hands on the fake badge, it probably wouldn’t mean anything to them. It wouldn’t exactly be much evidence if they couldn’t prove it was connected to the illegal fighting and not just a random fake badge, and the people running the arena weren’t stupid. They wouldn’t still be using them if they were aware the police knew of the connection.

“All right,” she sighed, making an exasperated gesture with her arms. “Let’s do this quick, then.”

“Don’t worry,” Damian tried to assure her, “I’ll be careful. I’ll find some dirty clothes, get to wherever the entrance is, snap a few pictures on the pokégear, then you can show them to the police. Simple, right?”

“Yeah, just like your library plan,” she muttered.

“What if…what if we’ll be too late if we go to the police?” Justin asked nervously. “Or what if the pictures aren’t enough evidence or they can’t head out there immediately? If Master’s going to fight tonight, he could-”

“Surely we can tell them that pokémon are being hurt, and that should convince them,” Damian replied, but Justin looked doubtful.

“Look, I know you’re scared of the police, but just try to relax,” Katie told him. “I’ll tell them I’m the one that took the pictures. You and Damian can be far away. Damian’s only going in because he’s older than us; no way they’re going to let a couple of kids like you or me anywhere near the entrance to the arena.”

Justin didn’t respond, but Katie hardly paid attention. She took out one of her poké balls, releasing the small, purple form of her aipom. “Okay, Sid, this is the only time I’m going to say this, but…” She reached up with her hand, pointing toward the fourth window from the bottom on the building’s right side, which was propped open. “…I need you to sneak into that building and steal something. Find us a molten badge with a lugia carving on the back, okay?”

Sid, who looked more excited than Snowcrystal had ever seen a pokémon look about anything, gave Katie a dramatic salute before turning and bounding toward the building. He climbed up its side effortlessly using the trailing ivy along its walls and within no time, he was on the balcony beneath the durant’s trainer’s window. He gave them an enthusiastic wave before vanishing inside.

They waited, unsure if the trainer was still lurking there, and if the overconfident aipom would stumble upon him. If the trainer was wearing the fake badge, that would definitely complicate things. They stood still with baited breath as they watched the window.

However, no more than a minute or two had passed before Sid reappeared, holding up a small object triumphantly. Damian gave him a thumbs-up, and the others breathed a collective sigh of relief. Sid scampered down to them, handing Damian the volcano-shaped object, which, he could see, looked exactly like a Molten Badge, save for the small lugia engraving on the back.

“Good job!” the trainer exclaimed.

“Good, now let’s get out of here, find some scruffy clothes, and try to find out where that department store is,” Katie muttered, casting a nervous glance at the window. “Before that trainer realizes what’s happened.”

Sid only burst out laughing. “Oh, don’t worry about him! He was passed out on the floor of the room! I stole the badge from his vest!” Not understanding what he was saying, the trainer just stared at him in confusion.

“He won’t be a problem,” Damian told her, giving the briefest translation he could. “But you’re right; let’s go.”

“Yeah,” Justin agreed as they began to sprint away from the building, glancing nervously at the rapidly darkening sky. “We probably don’t have much time. And I doubt that guy would give us any information on how to find the place.”

They wasted no time in getting to the nearest café, while Katie worked searching through images of Stonedust City department stores to find one with blue umbrellas. Damian soon returned wearing some scruffy looking clothes, and he began to work on the computer next to her, searching for the same thing.

“Didn’t the durant say the humans didn’t look…well, like you’d think a scumbag would?” Spark asked, staring at Damian’s new attire.

“Maybe not the real ‘champions,’” Nightshade replied, “but you can bet many of the ones who waste all their money gambling there do. Someone Damian’s age wouldn’t be likely to have much luck.”

“So if he looks like that and shows them the badge, they’ll let him in long enough to take the pictures, right?” Rosie asked.

“More importantly,” Arien interjected, “it will keep him from getting hurt if they find him snooping around. He has to look the part. In his case, someone desperate.”

“If he doesn’t fool them,” Scytheclaw continued, “I wouldn’t put it past them to kill him.” Even Arien, a normally calm and collected pokémon, looked horrified at the suggestion. “I’m just sayin’,” the scizor continued, “he’s putting a lot at risk to help these pokémon and the monsters who force them into that mess. You had all better be nearby for backup in case anything happens.”

“Right,” Rosie replied sullenly.

“Got it!” said Katie suddenly, prompting everyone who’d come into the café to stare at her computer screen. “Here it is…” She zoomed in to the picture, showing them a very large department store. The courtyard in front of it was decorated by blue umbrellas, a couple small restaurants nearby. “And here’s the location. It’s on the other side of town but if we hurry, we can get there within twenty minutes. Damian, you can take the bus. We’ll catch up with the wild pokémon as soon as we can. I don’t think they’d let that many loose pokémon on board.”

They rushed out of the café, regrouping with the wild pokémon who’d chosen to wait outside. Snowcrystal darted over to Damian, a feeling of determination suddenly gripping her. “I want to go,” she stated, and the other pokémon looked to her in confusion. “I could help,” she protested. “If someone attacks Damian, that is. I’m one of the only ones small enough to hide in his backpack, and I know some powerful fire moves. He wouldn’t need to have the time to release me from a poké ball; I could take them by surprise!”

She expected the others to argue, but to her surprise, Arien merely nodded. “That’s a good idea.” Snowcrystal beamed at him, and he added, “Just do not make your presence known unless absolutely necessary. Do you understand?”

Snowcrystal nodded vigorously. Damian, obviously having received the translation, set down his backpack so she could climb in, leaving a bit of it unzipped so that she could easily push the zipper open wider if she needed to quickly escape.

“Wait…you’re bringing the growlithe?” Katie cried.

“Arien thinks it’s a good idea,” Damian replied. “In case I can’t release my other pokémon in time. She may be small, but…I’d like to see someone try to hurt me after taking a flame wheel to the face.”

Katie knew he was partially joking, but she seemed to accept that answer. “True…I guess you need all the help you can get,” she muttered, in a way that made it seem as if she was thinking of everything that could go wrong.

“No one else is small enough to keep hidden and knows attacks like that,” Justin pointed out. “It’s a good idea. And he should take Nightshade too.” When the other trainers looked to him in confusion, he added, “Think about it. Nightshade’s one of the strongest pokémon we’ve got. And well, just look at him. He still looks like he got dragged under a bus. Just the sort of pokémon an abusive or neglectful trainer would have, right? We could dirty up his bandages if we wanted the full effect. He could even try to limp more. And act submissive and scared or tough and angry or whatever it is abused, sick pokémon are supposed to act like. That way, you’ve got an eighth pokémon for protection, and you look more convincing.”

Everyone stared at him in astonishment for a moment, before Spark burst out, “My trainer is a genius!” and Alex gave him a round of applause. Nightshade nodded in approval and stood protectively by Damian.

“Well, okay, you’re right, that’s smart,” Katie admitted. “Take Nightshade with you and head over to the bus stop. We’ll be out in the courtyard in front of the store ordering food or something.”

Justin nodded. “We’ll act like nothing’s up, and the moment you come out, we’ll leave and Katie can go to the police.”

“All right, it’s settled,” Damian replied eagerly. He held out his six poké balls, returning his pokémon team and placing the poké balls back on his belt. “And we’ll make sure they come as fast as they can to help the pokémon tonight before Master has a chance to make Blazefang use the attack. Good luck!”

“And hope they’re not too late,” Justin muttered. As he watched Damian running off, Nightshade flying right behind him and Snowcrystal peering from the backpack, he added, “And you’re the one who needs the luck.”

-ooo-

It wasn’t long before Nightshade and Damian stood in front of the department store. It certainly wasn’t Stonedust City’s biggest, but its size was still impressive, especially compared to the smaller shops that Damian had been used to in many of Inari’s other cities. It was part of a large strip mall, many other buildings and shops set up around and near it. A large courtyard in the front housed tables with blue umbrellas, where many trainers were currently enjoying food with their pokémon. He could feel Snowcrystal moving around carefully in the backpack, trying to get a better look. Nightshade looked calm and collected, but Damian could tell that he was worried.

Knowing that it would take a while for Justin and Katie to catch up with the wild pokémon, he took a deep breath and strode off toward the department store, the heracross at his side. He had the fake molten badge pinned to his vest along with his other badges, and he hoped he wouldn’t look suspicious to either the fighting ring trainers or random passerby. A couple trainers on the bus had already expressed concern over Nightshade’s filthy bandages, and he began to wonder if making him look like an abused pokémon had really been a good idea after all. But now, there was no turning back.

They walked into the front doors, seeing nothing odd or amiss. It looked like any normal department store, and for a moment Damian wondered if he’d somehow messed up and came to the wrong one. He reminded himself that looking normal was probably its entire purpose, and turned back and forth to get a good look at the place, trying to figure out where the smallest counter was.

It certainly wasn’t an upscale store, and no one seemed to object to him or his tattered clothes. It was fairly crowded, and he began to feel a bit anxious as he started walking, keeping an eye out for the counter and whoever he was supposed to show the badge to. As he walked, he looked around for any trainers that looked as if they were up to something, but it proved fruitless, as everyone seemed to look and act very normal from what he could see.

As he moved toward the back of the store, he felt a tug on his sleeve and looked over to see Nightshade pointing toward something. Following the heracross’s gaze, he noticed a small, sectioned off area of the store that appeared to sell DVDs and other small items. There was a single counter there, with one cashier waiting behind it and a second worker standing by.

Damian headed over it, reminding himself that he shouldn’t look too excited or eager. He needed to act like this was a regular thing. He could see Nightshade beside him, and knew that Snowcrystal was waiting in his backpack. He also had six other pokémon ready to defend him if something went wrong, and he felt his confidence returning.

As he walked up to the counter, the cashier gave him a strange look – which he hoped wasn’t one of suspicion – and asked him in an irritated tone, “What are you looking for?”

The question surprised Damian enough that he wasn’t sure that he’d walked into the right part of the store. Then he remembered that, of course, the place catered to normal customers as well. They couldn’t hide an underground fighting ring with a store that never sold anything.

Feeling silly, he replied, “Well, actually, I’m…” He fumbled around with his vest, taking a bit longer than he would have wanted to unhook the molten badge and hold it out to him.

The cashier took it from him, turning away and staring at it with his hand behind the counter, as if in precaution should any bystander look in their direction. He was silent for several long moments, and Damian wondered if he had done something wrong, if they had seen right through his attempt to pass as another patron of their crime establishment. He probably didn’t look or act anything like the other trainers who took part in it, and he began to realize that they had likely noticed right away. His hands shook as he watched the worker, expecting him to scream at him and force him to leave, or maybe even turn him in to the police if he had chosen the wrong department store and the workers somehow knew what the badge meant.

Instead, to his surprise, the worker just sighed. “Great. Another weirdo,” he muttered. Turning to Damian, he stated in a matter-of-fact way, “Okay, down there. You know the drill.”

He pointed toward a door off to the side, hidden partially by a jutting section of the wall as he handed Damian the badge back. The door was labeled as a bathroom, but it had an “employees only” sign on it. Damian was momentarily confused. “But I don’t have to-” Then, it came to him, and he grinned, hoping they’d take his comment as a joke. “Er, I mean, thanks! I get it…” He gave the cashier a thumbs-up and tried to walk discreetly along the wall toward the door, which caused the other worker to give an irritated sigh and glare at him before opening the door and motioning for him to hurry it up.

“They let any old trash in here these days,” he heard one worker mutter as he stepped through the doorway.

“Well, they’ve got money,” his partner replied, before shutting the door behind Damian, leaving him in a dimly-lit hallway passage.

This certainly was anything but a bathroom; in fact, it looked as if this part of the building had once housed office rooms or something of the sort. A few disused rooms could be seen through open doors, and up ahead, the hallway seemed to twist and curve. A sudden fear gripped Damian as he realized that the trainers who owned the fake badges were supposed to know where to go, so there was probably a hidden entrance somewhere.

And he had no idea where it was.

He fumbled with his pokégear, knowing that he had to find it as quickly as possible so he could snap a clear picture for Katie to show to the police. Then he had to get out as fast as he could before any of the people responsible for the fighting ring could realize what he’d done. The hallway was empty, and though he was worried this meant that he could be too late, and the fights had already started, it did give him an opportunity to contact the others.

He called Justin’s phone, and almost immediately he heard the younger boy’s voice on the other end. “Damian? Where are you?” He sounded very worried.

“I’m in some disused part of the building,” Damian whispered, creeping down the hallway as he looked left and right for any sign of movement. “I haven’t found the entrance to the place yet, but…”

“Send me a picture,” Justin demanded.

“There’s nothing to take a picture of,” Damian whispered back. “It’s all just empty rooms!”

“Then find something.”

“I’m trying!”

He kept going as he listened to Justin ramble, finding that most of the old office rooms were being used as improvised storage rooms, but there was nothing that looked like it belonged to anything related to criminal activity. As he turned a corner in the hallway only to meet another empty room, he was about to take one of Justin’s many suggestions and have Nightshade or even Snowcrystal split up and look in different areas when he heard the sounds of footsteps.

He slammed his pokégear closed just in time as three men walked into the empty room he was standing in, joking and laughing in a way that made Damian realize that they were probably drunk. One of them turned to him, his expression a bit amused.

“You lost, kid?”

“Uh…n-no, I…” Damian began, but he didn’t have a chance to finish.

The other trainer laughed and marched over to the far wall, pressing his hand against a section that looked just like any other, yet it moved inward as he touched it. Damian’s eyes widened as sections of the wall separated and moved apart soundlessly, revealing a dark passage lit only faintly with rectangular lights attached to the ceiling.

It had been so easy, and Damian knew that if he could snap a picture of this, it would probably be great evidence for the police. Yet he also knew that he was surrounded by three trainers in an organization that probably would have no qualms with hurting him should they think he was threatening their livelihood in any way. Drunk or not, there was no way these strangers were going to let him get away with that.

“Well, go on,” one of the trainers said in a jesting manner, as if they found his uncertainty amusing. At least, he thought, for one reason or another, they were completely oblivious to the fact that he was an imposter. They seemed to think he was some clueless trainer who wanted to gamble and was new to the whole thing, or had forgotten how to get in. Damian knew he would have to walk through that door, or risk a high likelihood of them finding out he was only there to infiltrate the place.

“Oh! Haha, thanks!” he began, giving them a nervous grin as he edged his way backward toward the improvised door, Nightshade at his side. He turned around abruptly as he reached it, glancing down to Nightshade, who was doing a good job of acting like an angry, disgruntled pokémon. Damian thought that was probably a good idea; he wasn’t sure he could pull off the “abusive, controlling trainer” look as well as he could the “clueless, horrible battler who didn’t take care of his pokémon” one.

After he walked through, two of the other trainers followed, but the third stayed in the empty room. “I’m gonna stay behind and wait for Max, alright?”

“Yeah, sure,” one waved dismissively toward him, and to Damian’s horror, the trainer waiting outside pushed the panel into the wall again, and the door sealed shut behind him.

Damian barely stifled a gasp of fear as he realized that his escape had been cut off. There was someone waiting outside who would definitely know he was up to something if he decided to leave right after he’d arrived, and he didn’t even know how the door opened from this side.

“What’s the matter kid?” a condescending voice asked, and he turned to see the amused smirk of one of the men that had come in with him. “Why so nervous? You owe someone money?”

“Uh…yeah?” Damian replied, and the trainer burst out laughing.

“Well, looks like you’re in trouble. Well good luck, just don’t bet on any a’ Jason’s pokémon! Ahaha!”

Damian had no idea who ‘Jason’ was, but as the two men on his side of the passage walked off laughing, he frantically pushed against portions of the wall, but nothing happened. He wondered if the door could only be opened from the outside, and if they were all meant to exit through different areas. Perhaps it wouldn’t make sense for everyone to come out through the department store after the fighting, late at night when the store would be closed, so they avoided letting people do so by making a one-way door. As his heart raced, he tried to remain calm. Surely there were plenty of escape routes in the event the police found the place. He’d just find another way out.

The two other trainers had vanished around a dark corner up ahead, and the wall where the door had been looked thick enough that the man on the other side wouldn’t be able to hear him, so he redialed the number of Justin’s phone. “Justin?” he whispered, as soon as the voice answered on the other end.

“Damian, what happened?” Justin nearly shouted, causing him to cringe.

“I’m in the hallway that leads to the arena somehow. Some guys appeared. But they’re gone now…I mean, sort of. Well, I can talk to you right now, but-” He broke off, hearing the sound of something like loud static, combined with something else altogether that he couldn’t quite pinpoint, over the pokégear, drowning out Justin’s angry replies. “Justin?” he asked.

It was several long seconds before the younger boy’s voice returned, sounding more alarmed than it had before. “Something’s messing with your signal! Argh, they probably have some kind of machine or psychic pokémon screwing things up. You’ve gotta get out of there. You’re in big danger. Those people could-”

Damian heard no more as the signal interrupted, more fiercely than before. He realized that if he was going to send them a picture, it would have to be fast, but he wasn’t sure what good a picture of an empty hallway would do in convincing the police of anything. The signal on his pokégear was now flickering in and out, telling him that Justin was definitely right about the interference. Of course the ones in charge wouldn’t want anyone to be able to contact the outside. He tried to stand closer to the door, but it did nothing to remedy the problem.

Suddenly, Justin’s voice came snapping back, frantic and scared. “Damian, get out of there! Call the police…something!”

It was then that the situation fully dawned on him. Here he was, having been forced to enter an underground crime ring, and one that probably involved hundreds of thousands of dollars, if not more. It was run by people who were probably just as ruthless as Thunder’s Master, people who probably had more than just pokémon blood on their hands after years of working to keep their activities a secret. His hand shook, making it hard to focus on the pokégear screen, as he realized that his very life probably depended on keeping his true intentions hidden.

“Justin…I had to go through a secret door and there’s someone outside…” he began, hoping his voice would be heard through the flickering connection as he readied his hand to dial the number of the police after he got through to Justin. “I can’t get out.” He looked around fearfully, seeing Nightshade’s own concern reflected back at him in the heracross’s yellow eyes. He thought that, while Nightshade was probably a strong enough pokémon to break down the wall, there was no way he could do that and escape detection from both the trainer on the other side and the ones in the department store. They would have prepared for anything; they would have thought of every way to deal with an intruder.

Justin’s voice was nothing but a garbled mess that transitioned between seconds of absolute silence. Then, in one moment where his voice came through clear enough to understand, it was a frantic shout.

“CALL THE POLICE NOW!”

Damian didn’t have a chance to reply before Justin’s voice cut out.

The signal was dead.

To be continued...