2005- Chapter FourJames' eyes darted across the foliage. He had a bad feeling about this forest. Heeding Midnight's warning a bit too well, he stayed close by Jessie, one hand always near his weapon. He wasn't about to let her get killed; once had been enough...
"...James? James?"
He snapped back to reality. Jessie was searching his face curiously. "Something wrong?" he asked.
"I was about to say the same thing," she said dryly. "You okay?"
"Why wouldn't I be?"
"For one, you've been in your own world all afternoon. Secondly, you're hand's practically on the trigger and you're eyes don't leave the sides of the road. Thirdly, if you walk much closer to me you'll run me down." She followed where his gaze had been. "Is... someone out there?"
Misty sucked in air. Ash and the others glanced around suspiciously.
James debated on whether he should let his hunch be known. "No," he lied after a moment. "Nothing. I just tend to get this way in Viridian."
"Oh?" was all Jessie said. She let the matter drop, knowing perfectly well he wasn't being truthful. No matter; he'd tell them when he was ready.
James resumed his old frame of mind, keeping all attention turned to the forest. There was no doubt about it- someone was definitely following them. But who? It wasn't a bandit; they made a lot of noise and didn't care about being seen or not. Whoever was out there walked without a sound; James only knew someone was there from experience and a sixth sense. It had to be an assassin. Which meant each second they walked free was a threat to Jessie's life. If he could only figure out WHERE they were...
James caught the glint of the weapon almost too late. As soon as his eye caught the glare, a single shot was fired straight at Jessie. Letting instinct take over, James shoved her down and fired at the gunman's abdomen, the only part of his enemy he could see.
The lazer shot ripped through James' shoulder; he barely seemed to notice it. James' shot, however, was a dead-on hit. There was a soft thud, as the attacker's body slammed into the ground.
"What the hell-?" Gary started to say, whipping around when he'd heard Jessie hit the dirt.
James stood up, holstering the weapon and walking over to the person he'd just shot. Jessie lay still for a moment, getting her breath back and trying to figure out what had just happened. Brock was the first person to snap out of his shock.
"Is he dead?"
James shook his head. "Stunned. I only had it on Level Three." There were five levels on his gun, five being the deadliest. "And it's a she."
Brock trotted over and helped James pick the female assassin up. Despite the gun being at half power, it
had torn through her cream-colored shirt, and the young woman was badly burned and bleeding slightly.
Tracey unrolled his sleeping bag, gesturing for them to lay her on it. Once this was done, James kneeled down next to her. "We'll have to take care of that before she loses much blood. Do any of you have something to wrap this up with?"
"I might," Brock spoke up. He dug around until he pulled out some type of cloth. "Go ahead and use that. I brought it in case anyone got hurt."
Gary noticed James' own wound. "Uh, you want me to handle this? You've got your own problems."
James finally paid attention to the stabbing pain in his shoulder. "Hm? Oh, good idea." He tore off a chunk of the cloth, wincing slightly when he touched the burnt area. "Shame hers was on full power."
"Need some help?" Jessie had come over after her momentary shock. She took the cloth from James. "It'd be hard to do that on your own."
He nodded, managing a flicker of a smile and a thank you.
As the quiet jobs were done, Ash and Misty joined the rest of the group.
"Think we oughta just go ahead and set camp here?" Tracey asked Ash.
He checked his watch; already seven o'clock. "Yeah. Help me set camp."
Those who weren't busy with their own tasks put up cooking equipment, pulled out sleeping bags and pitched tents against the cold weather.
"Hey Gar', need any help with that?" Tracey asked after he'd pitched his own tent.
"Nah. I saw Erika do stuff like this enough times. I should be able to figure it out." He used a clip to hold it in place. "Heh! Not bad for a beginner."
James thanked Jessie again as she too finished up. "Is Midnight awake yet?" he asked Gary.
"Who, her?" Gary pointed to his 'patient'. "Not yet. If she's still out now, I'd hate to see that gun on full power."
"Being at the end of a shot isn't too pleasant either," James muttered, trying to hide his obvious pain.
"Hey Brock, got any aspirin in that magic bag?" Jessie wondered.
"Oh, I do," Misty volunteered. After a moment of rummaging in her bag she pulled the bottle out. "I always carry some. It's like a savior on your period."
"Whoah, TMI Mist," Tracey said quickly. She blushed slightly, and a nervous laughter rippled through the camp.
The still form of the stranger assassin moved slightly, groaning.
"Hey, the chick's coming to," Gary announced needlessly.
The others crowded around, watching as their new guest and attacker's eyes slowly flickered open. She took in the scene with intelligent golden eyes framed in wiry black hair. The bounty hunter moved herself into a sitting position, flinching only slightly. She met and held James' eyes. "Congratulations, Carol. It seems the circle is complete: the teacher becomes the student. So, now what? Are you going to kill me?"
"If that had been my intention I would have done it right the first time," came the passive reply.
She looked down, feeling along the deep burn. "...You know what happens now, then?"
"It doesn't; not necessarily."
She shook her head slowly. "It's one of the rules I will continue to keep. I'm afraid there's no ue arguing out of it."
James closed his eyes in something of annoyance. "Midnight, sometimes I wish you had killed me when you had the chance."
"I often have the same feeling."
Ash blinked several times, trying to understand this and finding he was unable to. Finally, he spoke up. "What did all that just mean!?"
"I wouldn't mind knowing myself," Tracey grumbled. "They're speaking in riddles. Maybe it's a bounty hunter thing- I assume you are a bounty hunter... Midnight, is it?"
She looked at him for a moment, then at the others. "I didn't realize you now travelled in a pack. What brought about the change?"
"I have my reasons for keeping company with them," James said, as he often did, replying without really answering.
"You know, most people find it impolite to be ignored," Misty said irritably. "I think Ash just asked you a legitimate question, and one that I'd like to know the answer to."
"Ash?" Midnight looked at the League Champ. "Ah, the child from the bar in Pewter. I assume you remember me, also?"
He nodded. "Yeah, the one who saved my ass. Now, give me some answers. I want to know who you are, what you're doing here, what your connections are with James, and what the hell all that crap you just said to each other meant."
She narrowed her eyes. "YOU ask too many questions. Have you ever heard the saying, 'patience is a virtue'?"
"Thousands of times."
"You ought to pay more attention to what people tell you, then."
"Just leave her alone." It was Gary. "She'll tell us when she's ready. God, she just woke up from getting hit with a Level Three laser. Give her a sec to catch her breath."
The corner's of her eyes crinkled into a smile; still no other change in expression, though. "You should listen to that one. He has more common sense than you'll ever know, League Champ."
Ash humphed, resorting to a childish half-pout. "Is dinner ready yet?"
"Just about," Brock told them, roasting something over a fire. "Tea's done, if you want some." He jerked his head to a pitcher and some cups. "Help yourself."
They took his offer, grabbing the flimsy paper cups and pouring glasses, quenching a day of walking's thirst. Jessie brought one over to Midnight.
The assassin took it. "Thank you... Anita, correct?"
"My real name is Jessie. You're, um, target."
"Yes. You're rather lucky you had Jake keeping his eyes open, or I strongly suspect you would have been dead now." She took a sip of the drink, snapping sharply in Brock's direction. "You, cook. What's your name?"
He stiffened slightly. "Brock. Brock Harrison."
"Did you make this tea?"
"Yeah. Is there a problem?" he asked nervously.
The same eye smile. "None. It's excellent."
Brock visibly relaxed. "Thanks." It meant a lot coming from Midnight, who obviously didn't give compliments easily.
"Think nothing of it. I give praise where praise is due." She faced Gary. "Now, did you and yours have something you wanted to know?"
"Yeah, I guess I wouldn't mind knowing what you're connections with James are, uh... is Midnight your real name?" Gary explained, surprised that she had called upon him.
"My true name is Mariko, if you would prefer to call me that." She took another sip of the tea. "Yes, I can understand why you'd be curious. Would you prefer to relay the tale, Jake? You may know it better than I do."
He shifted, looking uncomfortable. "Go ahead. I'm going to go retrieve your gun- we left it back in the forest, and I don't want it to fall into bandit hands." He left swiftly without waiting for her answer, already knowing what it would be.
"Very well, then. I would say it started nearly five years ago. I was called upon to track down and kill a deserter by the name of James Morgan. It was a simple job, but I was bored and felt the need to give my skills an exercise. Shortly after I departed the camp, I got word of its massacre, but continued after my assignment since I always finished what I begin. I came upon this James soon enough- he made no attempt to cover his tracks- and found him in a forest in Johto.
"I can't say what made me do what I did next. Perhaps it was the fact that, when I discovered this hopeless human, he didn't care what happened. To him, death was just life without breathing. I sympathized, something a bounty hunter should never do, but almost always will once in their lifetime. Or, it could have been something as shallow as the fact that no money would come out of this useless kill. I spared his life.
"There is a rule, within the code that a bounty hunter follows, that states that by sparing a person's life, they are indebted to you until that payment can be returned. To put in simpler terms: they become something of your own personal slave. It is one of the most revered laws, and one of the few I consistently follow. It goes without saying that this is what I did to James.
"Now, there was something in this James that I saw, that I felt, would turn him into a good assassin. Apathy is hard to come by, but when you find it it's someone who will make a superb bounty hunter. If they don't care, they can't feel for their victims. I understood that the feeling was brought on only by a deeper despair that I would never understand, but I took advantage of that, and turned him into the perfect picture of a true assassin.
"We travelled for a few years, until one day Jake- I gave him the name because of his being a known deserter- repayed the debt he owed me, and was out of my power. We went our own ways, and have met a few times, here and there, ever since. Until recently, when I was put on this case to take a certain Anita Lockheart's life. Fate seems to have put us in quite a vicious cycle, for, by sparing my life, I am now debted to HIM, until that can be repayed." She took another sip of the tea. "And that is that. Is the food ready yet, Harrison?"
He blinked a few times, so caught up in the story he'd completely forgotten about the food. "It has been for a while. I didn't want to interrupt you... it might be kind of cold, now..." Numbly he passed out plates with fried fish and some steamed rice to the rest of the group, along with utensils.
James quietly walked back into camp, throwing the gun on the ground, and grabbing his own meal.
"That took a while," Jessie remarked.
He made an incoherent noise, taking a small bite of food. Jessie suspected James had deliberately stayed out until Midnight/Mariko was done; the story must bring up painful memories.
"Mariko, huh?" Tracey asked after he'd finished his food. "Sounds foreign."
She nodded. "Indeed, it is. I am originally from Yumar; no doubt you've heard of the country."
A chorus of yes's. Gary's eyes narrowed slightly. A couple seconds later he stood up and left the camp, leaving an empty plate behind.
"Did I say something wrong?" Mariko asked, not seeming too rustled by the fact.
"Our hometown was bombed by Yumar," Ash said coldly. "I can relate to the feeling; right now I'm planning a way to get you out of my camp as soon as possible."
Mariko went back to her food. "Charming."
Tracey shifted nervously. "That... that isn't all." He immediately had the eyes of all upon him. "You see... we were... we were attacking Yumar when his plane went down, and..." he fell silent.
"Yes, a sequence of events like that would make you hate a country, wouldn't it?" Mariko nodded her agreement. "In my own way I can understand what he must be going through. My family was killed by Kantans when I was young. I eventually emmigrated here... ah, but my history isn't important." She glanced to the forest. "Will he be coming back?"
"Once he cools down," Misty explained. "Gary's got a temper, but it's usually short-lived. It might help if you were a little bit more polite to him and the rest of us, though."
"I'm not two-faced. Neither are you, from the sound of it," she looked at Ash when she said it. "But, like it or not, you will have to deal with me until I am killed or repay my debt."
"How do we know we can trust you?" Ash questioned. "What if you'll just kill us in bed and go get your little bounty?"
"The code is sacred," James said quietly. "It sounds rediculous, and it is, but some people insist on following it."
"You never were one to agree with it," Mariko commented. She looked towards Jessie. "So, you spared this woman's life; is she following you as I will be?"
"Actually, James is working for her," Brock said, forcing cheerfulness and hoping this tense phase would blow over. He was glad Tenuto, his parents' home country, was allied with Kanto. "Paying him well, from the sound of it."
Mariko's eyebrows raised, the first real sign of emotion in her. "Is that so? When by all rights she should be working for him for nothing?" She shook her head slowly. "You always did have your own way of doing things; I shouldn't have expected less." Another sip of tea. "Which would explain why you were so careful to keep her alive."
"I don't fail at my job." Jessie choked on her drink. James' head snapped up. "Are you all right, Jess?"
She coughed a couple of times. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. It's just..." Her eyes darted from face to face; too many people to ask something like that. She faked a laugh. "It's so good I drank it a little too quickly, I guess."
James and Tracey- ever the observer- gave her suspicious looks, but no one else seemed to notice. After a couple seconds of silence Brock asked for someone to help him clean up. Misty volunteered, so the others went to prepare their tents for bed. As they scattered, Gary came back into camp, looking a good deal better but shooting Mariko looks every once and a while. By the time nine o'clock had rolled around, everyone was ready to get to sleep and start out the next morning. Mariko, as the unexpected arriver, ended up sharing a tent with Ash and Misty. Neither seemed to mind much, though Ash warned her not to try anything while he was asleep.
"Ketchum, I'm not in the business of raping children, and even if I were I'd never waste my time on you," were her exact words. Even Gary had to work hard not to crack a smile.
"Don't you think we oughta have a look-out?" Gary asked in order to hide his amusement. "After all, this place IS crawling with crooks."
"I'll take first," James volunteered.
"Then I will take second," Mariko said immediately afterwards.
Slowly the watches were picked and divided into certain amounts of time. Once this was taken care of the group crawled into their tents to get what rest they could before their own watch. Ash, Misty and Mariko to one; Gary, Tracey and Brock to another; and Jessie and James to their own.
James changed out of his burned shirt and into another, then took his position on guard, preparing to spend a good hour and a half alone. Not that he minded, of course. James hadn't had a real peaceful moment in over a month, and he could use some time to think. He leaned back against a tree, preparing to daydream and stay alert, as he usually did. Before long his watch was almost up.
"You've broken two important rules I told you about."
He didn't have to turn to know who it was. "What do you want, Midnight?"
She ignored his question. "Making friends and joining a caravan of outsiders."
"You mean, people who aren't bounty hunters."
"Yes, that's exactly what I mean," she admitted. "Remember? The friends you make today may become the ones you have to kill tomorrow."
"I've heard the saying." He tossed a twig into the fire. "I don't care about it. They only become your targets if you want them to."
"Like that Jessie girl, hm?" James involuntarily jerked at the name. "Why'd you let her go, Jake? Do you love her? Is that it?"
"And if I did? What of it?" he nearly snapped.
Mariko knew she'd struck a nerve. "Give it up. She died once; whose to say it won't happen again? Would you like to go through all of it, twice? Wouldn't it have been better to let her be killed and move on?"
"I don't need you telling me what to do," he growled. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm not some broken-hearted kid anymore. And what would YOU know about love? I doubt if you know what the word itself means."
"No, that isn't true," she said, almost tenderly. "There was someone, once."
"And?"
She shrugged. "He never returned the feelings. There isn't a thing you can do about that, is there?"
"Suppose not."
"Does she have the same thoughts, Jake? Does this Jessie girl feel the same?" Mariko queried.
He stood up, face unreadable. "It's James, Mariko. It will always be James." He started to leave, but stopped. "And... this man, whoever he was. I apologize for his senselessness. Perhaps he did return the feelings, but, like yourself, was too secretive to tell you."
She watched him walk off and disappear into his tent. Only when the flap had closed did Mariko's guard fall. She sighed. "If you only knew."
"Welcome back."
James peered through the darkness to see Jessie sitting up in her sleeping
bag. "Suffering from
insomnia?"
"Nah, I just woke up," she lied, yawning. In reality Jessie had purpously
stayed awake to catch
James when he came back in.
"Sorry to wake you."
"Oh, no, I woke up right before you came in," another lie; Jessie wondered
how many she'd
give that evening. She shifted in her sleeping bag. "So, James..."
He cut her off. "Did you have something you wanted to ask me?"
She jumped a little. "Actually, yes. How did you-?"
"How did I know?" he finished. "From the look on your face this evening. You
seemed to want to
say something, but held back."
She smiled in the dim light. He was starting to finish her sentences again-
just like old times.
"Nice observation. Guess you've been taking lessons from Tracey." She turned
serious again.
"James... when Mariko was commenting on how you did a good job keeping me
alive, well... you
said something about how you wouldn't fail your job." Jessie paused.
"Go on," he said, almost reluctantly.
She bit her lip. "Is that all this is to you? Just another job? Do... do
me, and the others, only
seem like part of the occupation?"
She thought she heard him chuckle. "You're asking if I give a rattata's ass
about the lot of you,
is that it?"
"You could say that, yes."
"What do you think, Jess?" he countered.
She fiddled with a small ring on her hand. "I don't know. I really don't. I
think I might have used
to, but... you've changed a lot, you know. It's hard to tell if you even have
feelings these days."
There. She'd finally said it. Now all she had to worry about were the
consequences.
There was a long, drawn-out pause that made her think he had decided to
completely ignore
the question. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, he responded. "Do you
remember, when we
first met in Viridian Forest, that I couldn't kill you?"
"Of course."
"Would a person who didn't care do that?"
She'd never thought about it like that. "I guess not."
"Then there's your answer."
There was the sound of rustling sheets, and someone settling into their
sleeping bag. Jessie
knew that was the end of the conversation. It wasn't much, his reply, but in
many ways it was just
what she needed.
~
The next morning everyone was up around eight, ready to start up on the
trip again.
"Did you all sleep well?" Brock asked as he passed out breakfast.
"I did," Misty told him. She giggled. "Ash stayed up most of the night,
though. I think he thought
Mariko was going to slip a knife in his back."
"You can't trust some people," Ash justified, giving Mariko a dirty look.
"First of all, boy, I don't carry a knife. Second of all, if I was going to
kill you, I'd make it face-to-
face. That tends to be my style," she patted the two small laser guns at her
sides for
emphasis.
"I've never seen that type before," James commented, gesturing to the
weapons. "Where did
you come across those?"
"A new brand, fresh off the black market," she explained. "They're smaller,
and deadlier. You
can carry two instead of one." Mariko took the food Brock handed her.
"So, how did you sleep, Brock?" Misty wondered, trying to veer the subject
away from guns and
killing.
"It's been a couple years since I've slept outside, but not too bad, I
guess."
"Good to hear."
Mariko finished her food quickly, setting the plate aside. "Now, since I
will be travelling with you
for a time, I would appreciate some details as to our destination and the
like." She looked to
Brock. "Who is the leader of this parade?"
Brock jerked a thumb in Ash's direction. "We don't really HAVE a leader-
more of a democracy,
you know- but, since Ash is the only one who actually knows the location, I
guess he is."
Mariko stood up, looking Ash up and down. "This child is your captain?" Ash
flushed. "I would
have expected someone a bit more rational."
"And I expected you to be a little bit nicer," Misty snapped. "After all,
James could have just
killed you, but he didn't, so show a little more gratitude."
Mariko stared her down. "Are you this boy's babysitter?"
The other girl flinched under the intense look. "Of course not."
"Then I'd thank you not to speak for him." Back to Ash. "Now, I'll need all
that you can tell me.
Where are we going?"
"Up in the mountains."
"Coordinates?"
"Well-"
"No beating about the bush," she said sharply. "Just give them, or don't."
"I don't know."
"Approximate distance?"
"I don't know."
"Time it will take?"
By now Ash was rather red in the face. "I don't know."
She looked him up and down again. "You don't know much, do you?" came the
dry rhetorical
question. Mariko whirled on Misty. "Now, then, you seem to want to speak for
the boy. Explain to
me what's going on."
Misty, glad to be asked something she knew, was about to go into the long
story of her
encounter with Ash and the others.
Mariko stopped her. "I don't believe I asked for a life story." A quick
sideways glance at James.
"If these are your commanders, I rather feel pity for the rest of you." James
only shrugged. "Very
well, then. Brock, isn't it? Do you know what I need?"
Brock held up his hands. "As far as I'm concerned, I'm just here to make
sure they don't starve
and find some medicine for my family."
Her eyes turned up into a smile. "At least you're honest. You're doing a
fine job, too." Brock had
to grin in relief, grateful not to have been launched upon like Ash and Misty
had. Mariko sighed,
looking to Gary and Tracey. "Now we come upon the quiet ones. I might as well
give it a
shot." Her eyes rested on Tracey. "Could you give me a briefing of where we
are off to?"
Mariko reminded Tracey and Gary so much of their lieutenant back in the
boonies that both
unconciously came to attention.
"To the Elite's hideout, in the Crimson Mountains. Ash is going to try to
convince them to help
stop the war," Tracey reported.
Mariko nodded. "Do you know coordinates and the like?"
"Negative, ma'am," he blushed as soon as it came out, but couldn't help
himself.
Now on to Gary. "Would you happen to know?"
"A one day walk into a village at the foot of Mount Silver, expected to be
reached early this
evening. A half-mile climb up Silver, than appoximately seventy-five miles
into the heart of the
Crimson Range, travelling due North. Estimated to take six days with no
weather problems, but
at this time of the year it's impossible to know for sure."
Her eyes curled up again. "Very nice. Names?"
"Tracey Sketchit."
"Gary Oak."
"In the army, I take it." she assumed.
"Air Force," Tracey corrected.
"Ah. Forgive the mistake," she walked past, but stopped suddenly. Gary
thought he saw a small
smile tug at the corner of her mouth, but it could have been his imagination.
"At ease, boys."
They couldn't help but laugh.
Mariko's quick strides reminded the others of James' as she immediately
grabbed her small
pack and walked up to Ash. "If you have any sense, you should consider making
those two your
commanders. You would have a much better chance of surviving this suicide
quest."
Ash's fists bunched up. He'd already been humiliated in front of the entire
camp; Mariko had
just added insult to injury. As Gary walked by, along with the others, Ash
had a rising urge to trip
him, but was able to control it. After all, the last thing they needed was to
get into a battle on
such an important mission. ~
Tracey put his hands behind his head, closing his eyes against the bit of
sunlight that seeped
through the foliage. "It's nice being able to relax, now that we don't have
anyone stalking
us."
"Think again," James said quietly.
Tracey looked back at the bounty hunter, opening one eye to give him a
questioning look.
"What does that mean?"
"Our old employer isn't going to give up that easily, you know," Mariko
explained. "And, with the
way news travels in the assassin community, she may be hiring someone new at
this very
moment."
"No doubt Karl and his gang," James assumed.
"And I know he'll be thrilled to have a reason to kill the both of us,"
Mariko said, a sort of wild
amusement in her voice. She explained to the rest that the top bounty hunter
rule is that you
can't kill another assassin without paying for your own life. It was one that
everyone revered,
even, "someone as low as Karl."
Jessie was so sick of not knowing who was dead-set on taking her life.
"Mariko," she asked,
sounding as exasperated as she felt, "I honestly haven't a clue who's after
me, or why. James
won't tell me because of some code, but I was hoping maybe it would be a rule
you wouldn't
mind breaking."
Mariko nodded. "I can understand why you would want to know. Normally, I
would have to
agree with James, but since I find the woman so detestable- and, in a
round-about way, since
James is working for you then so am I- I'll tell you what you ask." She
paused, to remember the
full name. "Now, I believe it was... yes. Jessebelle Cliffton."
Ash, Misty, Brock, James and Jessie came to a dead halt. Realizing their
friends had stopped,
Tracey and Gary pulled up, curious to see what was going on.
"Jessebelle!?" Misty questioned. "You can't seriously mean THE
Jessebelle?"
Jessie cursed under her breath. "It figures. Just my
luck."
Mariko didn't look too surprised; just vaguely interested. "You
all know her, then."
"Can't say we do," Tracey spoke up.
"Anyone wanna fill us in?" Gary asked.
The remaining four shot looks at James, expecting him to do the explaining.
He sighed.
"Basically, she's my clinically insane control-freak fiancee. It's a long
story that I'd really prefer
not to dive in to."
"Fair enough," Brock agreed, "but why does she want to kill Jessie?"
"She doesn't want to kill Jessie, she wants to kill Anita Lockheart, the
theif who stole from her
stolen property," Jessie said evenly. She had started walking again, forcing
the others to move
with her in order to hear the rest. "I can't believe it. After all these
years, too, you'd think she
would have given up on it."
"The woman tends to be persistent; you really have to admire it, almost,"
James admitted.
"She's no stranger to a grudge, especially if it involves money." He feigned
disinterest. "So, Jess,
what exactly did you do to get a person like her after your blood?"
"I guess I couldn't keep lying to you. You were bound to find out
eventually. This is as good a
time as any." Jessie took a breath. "Hey James, you know how I said I was
getting paid monthly
'cause of my little injury?" He nodded. "Not true. When I came to, Jessica
Smitt was already
legally dead. The family that had saved my life didn't have a clue who I was;
good thing, too, or I
might be in prison right now. Remember the deal the police made with all us
Rockets right after
they busted HQ? We fight in the army 'till the war ends, and we don't serve
any time?" Another
nod from James. "Well, if I told the family the truth they'd have no choice
but to turn me over.
So, naturally, I took the alias Anita Lockheart. The bad part was: I didn't
have any money, any
friends, or anything I could claim possession to. It really wasn't a pretty
situation." She stopped
for a moment, picking an apple off an overhanging tree and biting it
thoughtfully. "Then, I
remembered an old friend with a fortune. The papers mentioned something about
your parents
being dead- for real, this time- and no one knew where you were... I figured
it would be a nice
time to drop by and borrow some cash.
"Unfortunately, that possessive fiancee of yours decided to move right on
in to your estate after
your folks died. While I was snatching some money out of the safe- by the
way, you really oughta
get a better one, I broke in easily- she happened to come down the hall and
see me. And the
rest, as they say, is history."
The others let this information sink in, wondering what effect it would
have on the rest of the
trip. After a moment, Brock asked thoughtfully, "Why do you think it took
this long for her to send
out a bounty hunter?"
"It's hard to identify someone who doesn't exist," Jessie said smugly. "And
once you do figure
out who they are, tracking them down would be next to impossible. Especially
during a war, when
the last thing on anyone's mind is a simple theft." She shrugged casually.
"Guess it took her this
long to finally decide a bounty hunter was the way to go."
"She didn't know it was James she was hiring?" Misty asked. "I mean, you'd
think-"
"That woman assumed I was dead," James interrupted. "And you have to
remember, I look a lot
different than I did seven years ago."
Mariko seemed to be thoroughly enjoying this. "This tale just keeps getting
better and better.
Jessie steals money from her closest friend, who's fiancee witnesses the
theft and unknowingly
hires the man the money was stolen from to kill the person he's known for
most of his life. What
a tangled web you people weave."
"Is anyone else's head just spinning from that?" Gary queried
sarcastically.
"To be put simpler: fate is a bitch," Mariko said bluntly. Gary laughed in
spite of himself.
"Is there anything we can do about her?" Tracey wondered.
James shook his head. "Nothing, not really. It doesn't matter how mant
assassins we kill she'll
only hire more. Lord knows the woman has enough money." He didn't seem to
like referring to
her by her name.
"I suppose the only real solution would be to get her bankrupt, or get
someone to kill her."
Jessie suggested.
Mariko's eyes flashed dangerously. "If you'd like to give me the job, I'd
gladly take it."
Jessie laughed. "Actually, I was thinking about taking care of her
myself."~
Brock's watch read just a little after five when they reached the large
village at the foot of
Mount Silver.
"Say hello to the last bit of civilization before our little suicide
mission begins," Gary said dryly.
"What's this place called, anyway?"
"Doesn't really have a name," Ash muttered. "But the people living there
just refer to it as
Silver." He hadn't been in a good mood all day, and no one could figure out
why.
"It really isn't as small as I pictured it," Brock remarked. "I thought
it'd only be a couple houses
and a small restuarant- it's really more like a fairly large town than a
village."
"There's a hotel down a ways," Ash said vaguely. "Called the Raikou Inn.
Follow me; we'll
check out some rooms first."
The others obeyed, walking alongside the League Champ into a decent-sized
hotel. The man
behind the desk, who's nametag read simply: "Kirk" seemed surprised to see
such a large crowd
walking into his hotel. "Um, hello, and welcome." He quickly counted the
number of guests-
eight, total- and pushed his glasses up onto his nose. "I'm afraid you'll
have to partner up two to
a room, we don't have enough to accomodate you all. All the rooms have one
bed, except for
room 3, which has a couple. But, we can bring cots out if you need them." He
cracked his
knuckles, eager to do business. "All right, I'll pass out room keys and you
can buddy up as you
see fit." Kirk snatched up a small pile of keys, handing them out to Tracey,
Ash, Jessie and
Brock. "That'll be twenty dollars per room- you can pay in the morning."
The groups quickly paired up: Gary and Tracey, Jessie and James, Ash and
Misty, and finally
Brock and Mariko.
"I don't care what you do for the rest of the time. Just meet me back in
the lounge tomorrow at
ten," Ash told them, walking out of the hotel with the room key still in
his hand.
Misty realized what he'd done too late. "Oh, wonderful. Now I'm locked out
and I haven't even
put my stuff up yet!"
"You can set it in my room for now, Mist," Brock offered. "Until Ash gets
back."
Misty smiled. "Thanks Brock." She shot daggers at the hotel entrance.
"Maybe I should have
roomed with you instead."
"Yes, but then Ash would have had to deal with Yumar trash again," Mariko
reminded her, not
sounding in the least bit distressed by someone considering her trash. She
handed Brock her
small pack. "I have some business to take care of. Would you mind dropping my
things off in the
room?"
"What sort of business?" Misty wondered as Brock took the bag.
Mariko waved a hand dismissively. "A certain assassin broke one of the more
important laws,
and it's my duty to... correct him." She sighed. "There really is no rest for
the weary- I'll see you
around." And she, too, was gone.
Misty started to head back to the hotel rooms. "Mariko is such a character.
I never know what
she'll say next."
Brock laughed. "I'm not sure I'd want to."~
Jessie and James, setting their bags down and taking out a few items for
the next morning,
discovered that both were famished and decided to find a place to eat. After
passing by a couple
of sleazy grills and bars, they arrived upon a nice-looking oriental place.
The meal was good, but uneventful, and the old Team Rocket duo thought a
stroll through the
quiet streets of Silver sounded like an excellent idea. As they were circling
a block of stores,
walking along idly, James stopped, rigid.
"What's up?" Jessie asked, then noticed how serious he looked. In a lower
voice, she
whispered, "Someone following us again?"
He nodded. "They're keeping to the back alleys. Not a common theif- too
quiet for that. Too
quiet for even a bounty hunter."
"Well, then what could it possible be?" Jessie wanted to know. After a
moment, she chuckled.
"Maybe it's a ghost."
James smiled slightly. "I guess I'm just being paranoid. Must be my
imagination-"
A cream-colored blur streaked through the air and hit both Jessie and James
full force,
knocking them back in the process. James rolled out from under, almost as
fast as the attacker
had moved, whipping out his gun and holding it at the animal that sat on
Jessie's chest.
He paused for a slight second- it was a Persian, reminding him of his old
friend, Meowth.
James shook his head to clear the memories, viewing the Pokémon as nothing
more than any
old cat. "I know you can understand me, so listen up. If you get off of her
I'll let you go back to
wherever you came from. Lay a single claw on her..." he tightened his finger
on the trigger,
making his point.
Obediently the lanky Persian dismounted, backing up and watching the weapon
with eyes oddly
intelligent for the breed. He frowned- a very un-catlike gesture. "Jim, I'm
hurt. Not even
rememberin' an old friend. Is dis da kind of treatment I get for tryin' ta be
nice?"
James blinked several times, lowering the weapon slowly. There was no way.
He was dead.
Had to be. And yet...
"Meowth?" Jessie asked, sitting up.
"Who else would it be? The pope in a cat costume?" he asked sarcastically,
smiling and
grabbing Jessie in a Persian hug, causing her to almost fall backwards
again.
"Impossible," James said softly.
Jessie laughed happily. "I thought you were dead! The news reports said-"
"Well, if dere's one ting you two oughta know is dat da news reports tend
to tell a lotta lies," he
reminded them. "Weren't you supposed to be dead five years ago too?"
"Guess you aren't the only one with nine lives," Jessie responded, amazed
to have her old
friend back.
James' face broke into a grin once he got over his initial shock. "If this
turns out to be a dream,
it's one of the best I've had in years."
"No dream, Jimmy-boy!" the cat assured him. He smirked. "Unless ya'd like
me ta scratch you-
ta see if I'm real, and for old time's sake."~
Brock helped Misty up from the dinner table, glad to have a break from
cooking for once.
Misty stretched, smiling contentedly. "That was wonderful."
Brock resisted the urge to say he'd tasted better- his own, and Celia's.
Thinking about his sister
sent a pang of sadness and homesickness through him, but he quickly pushed it
down. For
today, at least, he'd try to have a good time. "Is there anything else you
want to do before we
head back?" He glanced at his watch. "It's only a little after seven- we have
plenty of time and
daylight."
"Sure. We could window-shop, if you want." Misty had another thought.
"Maybe we could find
some of that antidote for the virus."
Brock doubted a small town like this would have a heavily needed medication
like that, but
considered a little exploring to be fun. "Sounds great."
As they got the door, Misty paused thoughtfully. "I wonder where Ash is? We
haven't seen him
or the others the entire time we were walking here."
Brock frowned behind her back. How was it that, ever since he'd known her,
their conversations
always seemed to center around Ash? He shrugged. "I'm sure he's around- he's
practically an
adult, Mist, he can take care of himself."
She sighed. "Yeah, you're right." She felt around in her jean pocket. "Oh,
good, I have some
money. I'm a major spender- can't go anywhere without buying something."
Brock laughed. "Yeah, I can be like that too."
The conversation carried for a while, until they reached a small drug
store. "Wanna check in
here?" Misty offered. "You never know what sort of things these little stores
carry."
'By that, she means there's a tiny chance I could find the medicine,'
Brock thought to
himself. A slim to none chance, of course, but he figured he'd humor her.
"Fine by me."
The light tinkle of bells above the door welcomed them to the cosy
drugstore. Brock noticed a
new copy of his favorite magazine, 'The Pokémon Friend' lying invitingly on a
rack. He hadn't
bought one in a couple months, so went over to flip through and see what he'd
missed.
Misty went the other direction in search of what Brock needed. She didn't
even know if they
sold that sort of thing over-the-counter, but decided it was worth a shot.
"Excuse me, do you need any help finding something?"
Misty glanced up. A woman a couple years older than Brock was standing next
to her, decked
out in a uniform and wearing a cheerful smile. Misty bit her lip to hide a
smile, thinking these
were the type of girls her companion probably would have flown to when they
were kids. "Yeah,
actually. Do you have any..." she groaned, realizing she didn't know the name
for it. "Any of the
antidote for Quiana's virus?"
The woman's mouth formed a small "o" of surprise. "Now, there's a request
I've never gotten
before!"
"That's all right. I figured it wouldn't hurt to ask, though-"
She laughed. "I never said we didn't have it, did I?" She took a couple
steps to the right, bent
over and picked up a small bottle in gold wrapping. "See, when the virus hit
Kanto we piled our
shelves like everyone else did, but no one around this place ever caught it,
so it's just been
sitting here for months. It's not out-of-date. I'd never sell anything
dangerous to customers." Her
smile turned to a look of concern. "Oh, did someone in your family come down
with it?"
Misty shook her head. "Not me. A friend of mine's household-" she pointed
to Brock, who had
his nose buried in the magazine, "really got its toll taken. Pewter ran out
early. He should be
thrilled." She looked at the bottle, which read Xycosophlanxis- like most
medicines, impossible to
pronouce.
"It's called Zy-Co-Sof-Lanx-Zis," she explained, laughing a little. "Took
me weeks to figure it
out."
Misty called her friend over, who reluctantly set down what he was reading
and came to see
what was up. Misty waved the bottle in front of his nose, beaming. "Your
prayers have been
answered!"
Brock snatched it out of her hands, checking the label again and again to
make sure it was real.
"They HAD it here!?"
The shopkeeper explained it to Brock, as she had to Misty. "I'm glad it
came in use for
someone."
Brock took his eyes away from the Savior-in-a-bottle to look at the helpful
woman. She was
pretty. He had to bite his own tongue to keep from blushing, reminding
himself that he was NOT
a gawky fifteen-year-old anymore. "Thank you. You have no idea how much this
means to
me."
The perky smile returned. "If you need to get it there in a hurry, I have a
messenger service that
could have it there by tomorrow morning." She whistled, and a sturdy-looking
Pidgeot strutted in
through a back door, looking awkward scrabbling along the linoleum. He
carried a mail sack
draped across one shoulder. "Express here is used to this sort of thing- he's
very reliable, and
faster than just about any other way of travel." Brock reluctantly handed the
bottle back to the
clerk. She turned it over to Express, who tucked it away in the bag and after
being told where to
deliver it darted out of the room. The helpful woman turned back to Brock and
Misty, rubbing the
back of her head. "I really hate to charge you for this, since I know it must
have been a hassle to
come all the way out here-"
Brock handed over a credit card. "Trust me, you deserve every penny of
it."
She bit her lip. "Still..." she noticed the magazine, half-open on
the rack. "I know! You can take
that copy- free of charge."
Brock started to protest, but Misty interrupted him. "Brock she's offering
you something free.
She's trying to be nice; this is the part where you say 'thank you very
much,' pick up the
magazine we all know you badly want and promise to take her out to dinner
sometime."
Brock blushed. "Thanks, um-"
"The name's Renae, and thanks but no thanks; I'm engaged." She laughed,
handing him back
his credit card and waving the duo to the door. "If you come by again, be
sure to drop in and say
hello. Company's always welcome in a sleepy little town like this."
Once they were outside, Brock leaned against the store, sighing. "Thank God
that's over
with."
"Yeah. You were sweating bullets in front of her," Misty teased.
"I was talking about finding the Xycosophlanxis." He pronounced it
perfectly, much to his
friend's amazement. "And it wasn't like that- seriously. I'm not a
hormone-powerhouse anymore,
Mist."
She laughed. "From the way you had to practically pinch yourself to keep
from blushing, I'd say
you haven't changed too much."
Chapter Five: ChallengesBack to Chapter Index