Apocalypse: 1.14 Liftoff (Patreon)

Liftoff 1.14

June 2015

I let out a deep breath as I took stock of the mess around me. Rocket was thankfully the only pokemon who was injured, though he'd take a week or so to recover from this fight. Spade was physically fine but the young drilbur had just hacked a crustle to death. I'd be surprised if he wasn't shellshocked. Scout fared the best of them, having acted largely in a support role. The two poochyena seemed alright too, if only because Rocket had stepped in before they could get seriously injured.

That was just about where the good news ended however. I felt like one massive bruise, perhaps literally given the Bulldoze that wracked my entire body. I now knew what it felt like to be one of those earthquake-resistant architecture demonstration exhibits at science centers, the ones that failed. It wasn't a pleasant experience.

Still, I forced myself to my feet. There was much to do. We needed to care for the injured, clean up the bodies, and get Phil out of the caves he'd partially flooded.

'At least he got to avoid the fighting,' I thought. That was more than could be said for the ones who wanted to watch Austin try to "make a new friend." And what a shitshow that turned out to be.

It wasn't just rangers involved. Civilians, like Sabrina, had come to spectate, with high hopes for a positive relationship. They'd gotten caught up in the fighting and I could see several bodies laid out side to side, most lacking the forest-green and brown we rangers preferred. I doubted the dwebble targeted them purposefully, but moving rocks were moving rocks and they weren't nearly as used to dodging lethal projectiles as us.

All told, I counted five dead civilians and three dead rangers. A few of the bodies sported footprints, likely trampled when people first started to panic.

In the middle of all of this sat Sabrina Swanson. She was practically catatonic as she cradled her father's head in her arms. I had no words to describe the raw sorrow etched on her face.

In a way, I'd been fortunate. My entire extended family died, yes, but they died "offscreen," out of sight and out of mind. They'd perished in nuclear fire, instantly wiped off the face of the earth alongside millions of others. They were statistics and I was permitted to both physically and emotionally distance myself from their deaths. I reckoned it was as clean a way to go as any.

I hadn't had to hold my father's head in my arms as he breathed his last.

I took a knee by her side. I wasn't sure what to do. In the Before, I'd had a mostly normal life. No one important died. No major tragedies or illnesses like cancer either. I wasn't sure how to comfort her. I wasn't sure if it was possible to comfort her. All I could figure to do was to place a hand on her shoulder and sit by her side as she cried herself to exhaustion.

Scout landed a few feet away, cooing softly at Tom’s body. Judging by his flight, his wing wasn’t broken, just tender. He bowed his head, paying his respects to his trainer in all but the ball itself. There was a real sadness there, a solemness that reminded me of how much more pokemon were from mere animals.

This… wasn't the worst case scenario. But it was damn close. Tom wasn't just another ranger. For the town, for me, he was the man with the plan. He was the one who was always moving forward, always looking to better our lives in one way or another. He was a leader, a rallying flag for the other rangers. No, not all of his plans worked out, and he couldn't always keep everyone safe, but there was no question the town would have been worse off without him.

I didn't know how long we stayed like that, but we were soon joined by Rocket, Spade, and the poochyena. I didn't think the two pups really understood what was going on. Or maybe they did, maybe they knew they'd lost the leader of their pack.

Eventually, I felt Jarvis tug on my sleeve. He motioned quietly to the body. I nodded. Everything else had been cleared away.

"Come on, Sab," I whispered gently. "Let's get Tom inside…"

X

Carnelian Bay didn't have a dedicated coroner. With a population of only 2,300, there just wasn't a need for one. Hell, my high school had more people than this town. Most of the time, the people most likely to die were rangers and we weren't always able to bring back the bodies anyway.

We did have a church, a little Methodist place that wasn't being used for much. It used to serve as a makeshift schoolhouse before I came along, back when Carnelian Bay was even smaller and the folks from Truckee and Sierraville hadn't moved in. Now, it served well enough as a morgue and funeral parlor.

A collective wake was held for the eight who died. The town's general policy was to hold the wake and funeral as soon as possible, all the better to get some closure and move on. The wake would last all night. The bodies would then be cremated at dawn, their ashes buried wherever the next of kin chose.

The bodies had been placed inside makeshift coffins, more like repurposed wardrobes lined with what blankets we could spare. Friends and family gathered around without formal structure, praying or softly singing hymns under their breaths. Some lit candles while others simply bowed in solemn quiet. This wasn't the first I'd attended in the months I'd been here, but it was the only one that mattered.

I sat next to Sabrina to lend her what support I could. She had stopped crying, though only because she'd long since run out of tears to shed. All through the night, she held her father's cold hand in hers as broken sobs wracked her form.

She'd always been so vibrant, an optimist through and through. She truly believed that things could get better so long as we kept studying the pokemon around us. There was always a bright curiosity about her, a drive to know more and to share that knowledge with the world.

That light was gone now, drowned in soul-crushing grief she'd yet to process. Her slim shoulders shook long after she'd run out of tears to shed. She looked so small like this, fragile, like a porcelain doll.

Finally, dawn broke over the horizon. Mayor McAllen rang a small bell. I doubted he was an ordained pastor, but that was just as well. It allowed everyone to worship whichever god in whatever manner without feeling left out of the proceedings.

The man looked almost as broken as Sabrina. The ruddy tone of his face had faded into a sickly pallor. His voice was hoarse and his hair matted to his face like a corpse.

Austin… Austin wasn't the most popular person in town right now. He'd likely live from what I heard, but he wouldn't be walking ever again. And in a world like this one, that was no life at all.

"Shane," Sabrina said. Her voice was soft, little better than a whisper.

"Yes, Sabrina?"

"Thank you… I… I'm a mess…"

"We all are," I told her truthfully. I wrapped one arm around her shoulder and pulled her into a hug. Most of us hadn't exactly bothered with a shower before coming out for the wake. I reached for my holster and pulled out the Springfield M1911. ""I only knew him for a few months, but I owe him my life. Did you know he left this behind? In Sierraville."

"No."

"Well, he did. A full magazine too. His note was how I knew to come to Carnelian Bay. My crossbow was busted and this pistol was all I had. Said that if I failed to catch anything with it, the last bullet was for me," I said with a watery chuckle.

She laughed. Hollow, but I took it to be a good sign. "Y-Yeah, that sounds like him."

"Tom was a good man. Helped people when he could without ignoring how dangerous things could get. I'm happy to have known him. Without him, I probably wouldn't even be here."

"I'm glad you came."

"Yeah, me too."

"I… I think he was proud of you. He was so happy when you showed up, said how having a new trainer would turn things around. And he was right. I just… I wish I'd never come out," she said, breaking down into fresh sobs. She buried her head into my chest. "Why? Why the fuck did I run out like an idiot? Dad… If I didn't, then dad would…"

"To save people. You wanted to help," I whispered into her hair. "And he would have been so damn proud of you. He was proud of you. Whenever we were out in the woods, half of all he talked about was how great his little girl was."

I gently held her as she lost herself in her grief again.

We went about the cremation proceedings with a sorrow that weighed on us like a thick fog. I worked with Rocket to swiftly build a large pyre. Even Scout contributed a few branches.

"Would you like me to light the pyre?" I asked Sabrina. I offered her the torch, a bit of fatwood that had been shaved into ribbons on one end.

She took a shuddering breath and took the torch in hand. "N-No. I need to do this."

The fire was lit and we watched as Tom's body burned, just one tragedy of many.

X

Things were tense for a while. The funeral gave us some closure, but it wasn't as though our problems could be buried with the ashes of our dead.

The crustle's rampage had two contrary effects on the town. On one hand, they were far more appreciative of Rocket, Scout, and the two poochyena we had. There was no denying who did the lion's share of the work in that battle after all. Nods and quiet murmurs of respect were far more common now, and not just from the rangers. The battle had cemented in the town's mind that only powerful pokemon could contend with other powerful pokemon.

In a way, the crustle was even more effective at driving this point home than the snorlax I wasn't here for. With the snorlax, the threat seemed almost divine in scope. What could a human, or even most pokemon, do against a Hyper Beam that reduced all in its path to smoldering ash? How was a snorlax different from a Plague of Egypt? Normal humans could do fuck-all about it no matter what plan we came up with.

But where the snorlax was an unstoppable natural disaster, more of a calamity given form than an animal, a crustle was less in every way. And because a crustle was weaker than a snorlax, its strength seemed achievable. Rocket and I, and to a lesser extent the other rangers, had proven that a powerful pokemon could stop another powerful pokemon, that we could be ready for threats.

On the other hand, the fear had not gone away. If anything, this incident only exacerbated the fear normal people had of pokemon. And why wouldn't it? They saw, for maybe the first time, what we rangers dealt with each time we went out beyond the wall.

They saw us fight for our lives. They saw how dangerous even an oversized hermit crab could be. Oh, they'd always known of course, but empirical knowledge was very different from the experiential variety.

That fear colored their newfound respect for us. It was like they didn't really know how to deal with us, never mind the pokemon. There was a real divide between the townsfolk and the rangers that no one was sure how to bridge.

For my part, I was just happy no one was giving Rocket shit for this somehow. There hadn't been any rangings in the past week, but that was obvious. In fact, there was no real chain of command. We were labeled "the rangers" by the town, and we were fine with the label, but that didn't mean we had much in the way of structure. More or less, we were just people who were good at being outside.

That left me feeling somewhat aimless. A part of me wanted to leave, maybe disappear for a few weeks while things settled down. Each time I seriously considered it, something kept me here. I was growing attached. In the end, I'd always walk back to town after having picked off a deer or a sack full of rabbits.

One morning, I wandered out onto the pier with my partner ambling behind. It was quiet here. The sun was just starting to rise and the fishermen of the yacht club had long since set off into the lake, leaving behind only a few people to guard the fisheries.

"Morning, Aaron, Rocket," said Vincent Jackson. His salt-pepper beard was as immaculate as ever as he sat on a lounge chair, looking out over the lake. "What brings you here?"

"Morning, Vincent. I just… needed a place to think, I guess," I said as Rocket nudged Vincent's hand in his own greeting. "Not taking the boat out today?"

"Not my turn. Come, sit with me. You two have breakfast yet?"

"Not yet. How's it going?" I asked as I pulled up a folding chair next to him. Rocket circled the chairs a few times like a puppy before lounging at my feet. A fishing rod, one of several already in the water, was placed in my hand to oversee. "How's Phil?"

His expression darkened. "He's alright. Boy's still afraid of the dark. He sat there, you know? Inside the caves, hearing all the mess that went on aboveground."

What could I say to that? I was the one who convinced Vincent to allow Phil to help, the one who said we should force the dwebble to the surface so Austin could have his chat with them. I still didn't know what else I could have done, but I felt I deserved a share of the blame for what happened anyway.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry to hear that," I said.

"Don't be, son. Phil will get over it and, I can't help but think he'll have to learn more than fishing as he grows," Vincent said with a sigh. "Elaina's distraught of course, I wouldn't go near her if you can help it for a while."

"Yeah, I don't blame her. She's his mother."

"Don't beat yourself up too much is what I'm saying. Phil was nice and safe with that graveler while you risked life and limb for everyone. You did the best any man can rightly expect of you, you hear?"

"Thanks," I spoke softly. "I… I think I needed to hear that…"

The two of us sat around and shot the breeze. It was nice, not worrying about anything for a bit. I caught nothing, but that was alright. I needed this chance to kill some time and think things through for myself.

There was so much that I could have done better. Maybe, if I kept an eye out for the others, Tom wouldn't have died. Or maybe I ought to have voted for drowning the dwebble altogether and waited to ambush them immediately as they came out of their ended up killing them all anyway. It was cruel, but so was letting other people die for Austin's delusions.

In the end, everything I considered led me back to one conclusion: I needed to be stronger. Me and Rocket both. And, maybe more. Spade had been glued to Sabrina's side ever since, but Scout was a free bird. I couldn't remember much about unfezant besides that they weren't very popular competitively and the males had vibrant crests, but this wasn't a game anymore. A third-stage flyer, when Scout evolved, would be beyond helpful.

Scout was a proud creature. Could I get him to listen to me? Tom apparently had him since he was a pidove so the old ranger had a bond with Scout that I lacked. Maybe, maybe I needed to beat him in a traditional pokemon battle, get Rocket to prove that I could make him strong. He'd taken orders from me on occasion in the past, but this and that were different.

Which led back to Rocket. There was so much more I wanted to teach him. His Hone Claws needed to get faster. Double Team was great, but his clones tended to be simplistic in their actions. I knew that those clones could act with some independence. He could always learn more moves, maybe Seed Bomb from a skiddo. A stronger ranged attack would have made that fight with the crustle much easier. I had no idea how I'd teach Rocket Shadow Claw, but that was an option as well.

Hell, maybe I ought to focus on teaching him Swift or something. That was the trouble with normal types: They had such a large movepool that it was hard to pick a niche once you removed the numbers and stats sheets from the games.

I had a loose plan. Teach Rocket. Maybe coach the rangers and the two poochyena some while I was at it. Then, hopefully, I could impress Scout enough that he'd recognize me as his trainer.

And then… Then I'd need to see about taking care of the weakest link on my team: me.

"I need to hit a dungeon."

X

"It's not your fault," I told Austin. I wasn't sure I believed it in truth.

I'd come to visit. Dr. Lansdowne and Dr. Nguyen had been rather busy this past week taking care of all the injured. With the limited supplies we had, they couldn't do much more than brace his pelvis and give him some painkillers.

This was the fourth time I'd come to visit. He hadn't been lucid enough for a conversation the first two times. The third time, he fell asleep after a light meal.

I was here alone, having sent Rocket to roam the forest. His mother, the mayor's wife, didn't exactly have a high opinion of pokemon after one crippled her son.

"You were right," Austin said quietly. "You said I was too naive."

"None of us knew there was a crustle. It was probably a recent evolution."

He let out a broken, hollow laugh. "Does it matter, Shane? God, I got people killed. I…"

"Sabrina doesn't blame you, you know," I told him truthfully. No, she blamed herself and the other civilians for standing around gawking. "Tom wouldn't have either. You did what you thought was best for the town."

"It'd be easier if she did. It'd be easier if she hated me."

I didn't know what to say to that. At the moment, Sabrina didn't have the emotional capacity to feel anything at all.

I understood where he was coming from; there was some atonement that could have been had in letting her punish him. Maybe things would have been easier if she was the type to burn hot. Maybe then she'd rage and lash out and call Austin a murderer.

But Sabrina just wasn't that kind of girl and we both knew that. No, she was the sort to distract herself by any means at all. She'd buried herself in her old veterinary school textbooks and hadn't emerged from the old ranger station since the funeral. At her pace, I wouldn't be surprised to find out she memorized the damn things cover to cover.

"IWhat do I do, Shane?" he asked me. "What… What am I supposed to do with myself?"

I wasn't sure. I was a twenty-three year old punk kid who lucked out into a pokemon for himself. What the hell did I know?

Still, I answered anyway. "Rest. Recover. Learn. Live. Figure out a way to contribute to the town."

"Easy for you to say," he said with a bitter laugh. "You're… you. You've only been here since April and you're already the hotshot ranger. I'm just… just Austin…"

"Weren't you the one who got the graveler to work with the town? That wasn't nothing, Austin. You're why we have a wall, why I can come and go with the expectation of safety. You tried and, this time, it didn't end well. But that doesn't mean you should stop trying."

"I… And what if I get more people killed? Who'd follow me after this fuckup anyway?"

"Me," I stressed. I surprised myself but found I wasn't just trying to make him feel better.

I didn't know to what extent the power of friendship still applied in this world, this wasn't an anime, but damn it, the strength of the bond between pokemon and humans was the one defining trait Professor Oak emphasized across every medium. There had to be something there. Hell, I'd experienced a bit of that for myself with Rocket.

Austin was naive. He was unathletic. He had no hope of being a "ranger." He wasn't especially charismatic or anything either. But… But he truly, genuinely believed that humans and pokemon could coexist. That we should coexist.

I could get behind that.

Author's Note

May this be known as the Chapter of Sad.

You know what'd be funny? What if I made a Lake of Rage scenario the next chapter and blew up the town via gyarados ex machina?

Animal Fact: Honey badgers are related to skunks. They don't spray when threatened, but they can manually turn their anal pouches inside out. The odor acts as a warning signal to others to stay the fuck away. Imagine forcing a rectal prolapse whenever someone steps up to you.

You're welcome.