Pokemon: the Game - Chapter 15

Clay stares down at the PokeTool phone screen as it rings, muttering to himself, “Come on, pick up.” He stands to the back of a small room, near a second-floor window looking out over the dark desert. Bunk beds along the walls are empty and missing their pillows and sheets, making the otherwise empty room feel forlorn.

The phone rings one last time and then beeps, before a static image of Clay's Senior Ranger appears and a message begins, “Short an sweet, you've reached Rider. Dunno how but congrats buddy.” Clay grunts and inspects the PokeTool along the back and sides as the message goes on. “I didn't pick up, but don't feel bad, jus' leave me yer message.” The PokeTool beeps again, and a red recording circle appears. Clay sighs and goes to push back his hat, but it's already hanging on his back.

“Hello sir, sorry ta bother ya so soon.” Clay grimaces, but continues, “I got a Ranger mission ta ask ya about. Something ta do with changing lightbulbs along the border wall. Is it a prank or something? Call me back, when ya can.” He fumbles around with the PokeTool again, and finally ends the call by pressing a finger to the red recording circle on the screen. With another sigh he leaves the empty room.



In a small medical room Zack and Lana watch over Chansey, who stands in the middle of a large, glowing floor pad. The warm light of the healing pad flows back and forth under the Pokemon's feet like water. Slakoth sits sideways in a nearby waiting area chair, with Hiero napping in the next chair over, as Tor stands beside a control panel on the wall. The clinic is neat and tidy but filled with old tools and fading charts, like the rustic office of a country doctor.

When Clay enters from a door beside Hiero, Tor glances over and smiles, “Did you reach your friend young man?” Clay shakes his head, and Tor frowns. “Oh, well … I'm sure he's fine.”

“Weren't worried about that,” Clay examines the room, then grimaces, “Though now I am. I was hoping my Senior Ranger could give some advice or answer my questions.”

Tor grins, “I can try to do that. What do you need to know?”

Clay walks over and leans against the wall, “Well … is the mission a bad joke? I don't understand why they'd send me ta change lightbulbs in a place like that, there must be somebody with more experience.”

Zack turns around and admonishes Clay, “Don't doubt yourself! I believe in you!”

Tor nods, “It's a mission they send Rangers on every now and then, mostly to see what they're made of. Someone must believe you can do it, and it's not hard. I'd do it myself, but my bad knee makes walking long distances difficult.”

“But ya said yerself, the Southern Region is a dark place.”

“I did, but the border is a neutral zone. Antenna on the wall broadcast a signal that influences wild Pokemon to leave, and as a Ranger you're considered able to deal with anything that comes along. Just make sure you fully charge your Styler before you go.”

Clay glances down to the lasso at his hip, “Charge?”

“Yes, for the dissipative shielding.” Tor angles his head, looking to the ceiling, “One of them explained it to me once. The Styler can be hit a few times before being broken, so you need to capture your foe before that happens. And your Styler should flash at you when it's near breaking, anything from green for good and red for bad.”

Clay grumbles, “That'd be something he forgot to mention. Okay, so all I gotta do is replace some lightbulbs? Where are they at, and where do they need replaced?”

“I keep the spares in a closet, and the HDE system tells me that five of the lights are broken in the westward direction. So walk west, replace the five and come back. You will need me to open the door going out there, which I can do after I oversee this healing, and when you return the doors will open automatically.”

“Please do sir,” Clay sighs, “leastwise before I lose ma nerve.”



He stares out at the landscape as the heavy doors close behind him with a pneumatic hiss of air. Cotton stands beside him, its normally bright and fluffy wool laying dull and flat, the Pokemon making none of its usual cheerful sounds. The young man's clothes and his Pokemon's wool flap and rustle in a constant flow of warm dry wind coming from the land beyond to crash unending against the wall. The moon rests peaceful in the sky, providing just enough light to see.

Within a mile of the wall there is nothing but the same desert, though more devoid of life than normal; beyond that mile is a land torn from the nightmares of a crazed mind. A tower of giant bones, a copse of primordial trees, an ancient grim pyramid and a mountain of shining steel are only some of the oddities littering the landscape and visible due to what must be giant bonfires and Flashes. Around such landmarks are areas of thematic similarity that extend only to their boundary with another zone, so that the land is segmented and broken into those territories of conflicting identities, and from them blows the wind.

Clay turns his ear to face south and cups a hand to pick up the faintest noises. In the dry wind can be heard the whispers of a far away cacophony, a symphony of mad hoots and shrill screams, of glancing pains and endless tortures, of grunting triumphs and frenzied rewards. A war is happening out there, is always happening, will happen until all who fight are dead or gone. The wind will blow until that day.

He pulls his hat down low over his eyes and turns away again, starts walking parallel to the wall, whistling something low and tuneless. Cotton follows a pace behind, its bell jangling off-rhythm, though every few minutes it stops and turns to look out at the land. Clay does not look as he walks, his eyes are hidden but the angle of his head is that of someone avoiding a long and gruesome traffic accident. And what is there to see anyway? You can't see wind, you feel it.

This side of the wall looks much like the other, although it is not as clean. Various marks mar the surface, holes where a drilling horn or mighty fist struck the wall, caved sections that look like the result of an explosion or full body tackle, some areas discolored by long ago flames or chemicals. The earthen barrier remains strong, perhaps more from thickness than anything else. Powerful spotlights have been installed every eighth of a mile or so, and below each is a simple arrow diagram pointing back the way Clay came from. As the border gate grows smaller behind him, he begins touching each arrow with a hand as he passes.

A muffled boom is heard, and Clay's hand darts to his lasso Styler. Looking out at the landscape again he sees nothing, though a thin plume of smoke comes from what looks like a volcano, but then Cotton bleats. Clay looks up as a meteorite streaks down through the sky. When it appears to be heading for a spot somewhere in front of him, he starts running in the opposite direction and dives for the ground as it hits a dune with a seismic crash.

A shower of sand rains back down as Clay gets back up, looking at the “meteor” as it too stands and shakes its head. The flames on the tip of its long orange tail burn cherry red and low as it gets its bearings, flapping turquoise wings to shake off the sand. Then the flame turns orange and yellow as the Pokemon growls and snuffles, the height of the tail flame rising to nearly taller than its whole body. When the Charizard sees Clay, the flames on its tail burn white and it roars at him, blasting off his hat with the fury of its cry.

His hat is caught by the string around his neck and falls to land against his back, and with that small pat he stands tall and stares back at the Charizard. With one hand he starts swinging the lasso Styler and with the other he directs Cotton, pointing one way around the Pokemon as he runs in the other.

The Charizard grunts and croons to the sky as a red aura bursts out from its body, spreading and encompassing Clay and Cotton in an instant. They are left panting, sweat pouring from Clay's face as his dash becomes a crawl. His lips are dry but he gives a warbling whistle call as he throws the lasso toward the Charizard's neck. The Pokemon bats the rope away with a wing, and the Styler flashes an angry red along its length.

Behind the Charizard, Cotton charges up energy in its damp fur and releases a sudden Thunder Wave that wraps around the Charizard like a constricting coat. The Pokemon roars in anger and turns on Cotton, its mouth raising up to draw in air before it spits a blast of white fire. Clay returns Cotton before the Flamethrower can hit, and the flames char the sand to a brittle glass; Clay taps the Pokeball again to let Cotton back out beside him, and whistles a call that starts high and drops low.

Cotton nods and turns its back on the Charizard as the much larger Pokemon swings around to face the two. A Sand-Attack hits the Charizard straight on and it rubs at its eyes, then raises a leg to stomp the ground as flames swirl up around its body. Pushing off with the leg it flings itself bodily in their direction; Clay leans to jump one way as Cotton hops in the other, but the Charizard is too fast and about to hit them when paralyzing spasms rack its body and slow it down enough to miss them by searing inches. It crashes in to the side of a sand dune, tunneling through and making more glass.

The Charizard exits the dune on the other side and flaps its wings, spinning a quick u-turn to come back around. It stays in the air now and hovers above the two, snapping its toothy jaws at them. Clay whistles a note that starts low and goes high, and Cotton responds by making a high pitched growling bleat that causes the Charizard to shiver a little but otherwise remain unfazed. The Charizard lifts its head again to pull in air for a Flamethrower.

Clay lets loose his lasso Styler and catches the loop the Charizard's upturned jaws, closing its mouth and causing it to cough smoke. The Charizard shakes its head but the lasso remains firm as Clay pulls it tight, so the Fire-type Pokemon flings back its neck and pulls Clay off his feet before taking to the sky. Clay returns Cotton, the beam of light almost not reaching his Mareep as the Charizard takes him high overhead in an instant.

Spinning and swirling they go, Clay holds tight as he is pulled through the air, the ground far below seeming to be in every direction at once. He pulls his legs forward in the air and with both hands brings himself closer, his feet soon landing on the Charizard's back, then with a flick of his wrist pulls the lasso down around the Charizard's neck. The Fire-type Pokemon roars and spins, the world below spinning as well, and flames roil in streamers around its body, but Clay avoids the Fire Spin by leaning back closer to its body. He tugs on the lasso, pulling it tighter and tighter around the Charizard's neck.

The Styler glows along its length, turning white like a line of pure brilliant light for a moment, and Clay nods to himself and takes a deep breath as the Charizard slows down. Clay sits down with his legs around the Charizard's neck and pats the Pokemon's broad shoulder, to which it gives a restrained snort but allows him to direct its flight with nudges from his knees. They fly above the wall, Clay putting a hand to his eyes as he searches the line of spotlights down below. A few are missing from a section several miles from the border crossing, and Clay points in that direction; the Charizard snaps its jaws but flies down.

Coming to the ground, the Charizard allows Clay to dismount and he loosens his lasso Styler; with a roar the Fire-type Pokemon takes to the air, shooting off towards the far-away volcano without a backwards glance. Clay places his hat back on his head and pulls it down low, then lets Cotton out before walking towards the wall. He digs through his backpack and pulls out one of the large lightbulbs. Removing the remains of the old one, which seems to have exploded after a pebble or seed went through it and hit the wall, he screws the new bulb in to the large socket. After a moment, it lights up.

Following the arrows now he heads back to the border gate, Cotton jingling behind him. He passes more lights - most still functioning, a scattered few not - and continues replacing the broken. Between lights there are times to walk and admire the wilderness, his eyes often turned now toward the dizzying landscape far in the distance. There is something colorful about that view, something inviting that holds his gaze as the constant warm wind washes over him.



Zack jumps up from his chair when the inner door opens, “Hey, hey everybody! He's back, Clay is back!” Clay tips back his hat and raises an eyebrow; Zack is alone in the small staging area on this side of the door and shouting to himself. Zack throws his arms in the air, “Clay is back everybody!” Only now does Zack look around and seem to notice that no one else is waiting, but he shrugs and walks over to shake Clay's hand. “You made it back! Awesome!”

Clay nods, smiling as he pulls his hat low, “Never a doubt boy. And shouldn't you have gone to sleep when everybody else did?”

“What? No, I'm not sleepy at all.” Zack hides his mouth as he yawns, then slaps his cheeks to wake up as his eyelids droop. “So how was your mission thing?” Clay shrugs, returning Cotton as he thinks.

“Weren't bad I reckon. Felt kinda nice ta do something meaningful, and the mission had its high points.”

Zack nods, his expression begging for more, “What's the Southern Region like? Did you see any of the scary Pokemon? Did you get attacked? How did you win?”

“The Southern Region,” Clay stops again to think before answering, “is a bit hard to describe. Can't ya see it from any windows?”

“Nope, because Mister Tor says the windows would get broken. There's a little camera to see outside the big door, but it's pointed at the ground. And I tried climbing the wall to look over the top, but it's super steep and it turns out rock climbing is harder than I thought. Mister Tor says I can go to the Southern Region when I have eight badges and I win the Leogre Grand Tournament, which could take a year or more! I just wanna see the place, I didn't ask to go there!”

Clay chuckles and shakes his head, “I reckon if you saw it, you'd run straight for it. Better ya wait and see it when yer ready.”

“It's really that awesome?” Zack bunches his hands into fists and shuts his eyes, “Oooh, now I gotta!” He lets out a deep exhale and nods, looking at Clay with clear eyes. “It's decided, I'll go to the Southern Region someday and explore the whole place! Do you wanna come with me when I go?”

Clay smiles and nods, “Count me in boy.” He takes a deep breath that turns in to a yawn, stretching his shoulders. “But now I reckon some shut-eye is in order. It's been a long day.”

Zack follows Clay from the staging room, “Well I'm not even sleepy at all!” He yawns again, then laughs, “Buuut maybe I should pretend I am and try.”