Chapter 8: Escape Plan

November 14

Brock heard the boy long before he saw him. He heard him panting from several hundred feet away, footsteps pounding onto the earth as he ran. Brock heard him break into the clearing directly under his tree, then stop. From the sound of it, he was resting directly under Brock's tree.

Having no idea who it was, he slowly pulled back a branch so that there was just enough space for him to see through the tree. He saw that it was a boy who looked about Dawn's age, but with Brock's stature and build. They almost looked like twins, in fact.

"He doesn't look threatening," thought Brock, "should I befriend him?" Brock didn't immediately answer the question, but spied on the boy to see if he did anything out of the ordinary.

He sat down under Brock's tree and sipped at a bottle of water. Brock went unnoticed by him, which Brock preferred. The kid looked jittery, jumping at every little noise that the forest offered to him. He was fidgeting with a Pokétch, scrambling with the buttons before he pulled up the map of Sinnoh. After studying it for a few moments, he stood up and began to walk off.

Brock thought it best not to reach out to him. He didn't know that he could trust the boy, so he thought it better that he not attract attention to him. He watched him walk away when a bush to the boy's right suddenly gave a tremble. The boy darted his head toward the sound only to meet a shotgun shell to the face, killing him instantly.

Brock quickly retreated behind the cover of his tree, having to clasp his hand over his mouth to stifle his scream of shock. "Did that really just happen?" thought Brock, his mind racing, "did he just get shot? No, this can't be real!"

Unfortunately, cries of "He's dead!" and "Take his stuff!" confirmed that this was indeed very, very real. Hardly daring to even breathe, he slowly pilled back a branch, as he had done before, to see if he could catch a glimpse of the shooter.

He was met with not one, but five men, all wearing identical gray jumpsuits, rummaging through the dead boy's knapsack about twenty yards from his tree. Besides two of them scuffling over the boy's Pokétch, they were silent as they emptied his sack. Brock watched them carefully as the scuffle between the two men escalated into a full out fist fight. The other three men attempted to break up the fight, but quickly moved out of the way when one of the fighters whipped out a pistol and shot the other fighter dead before being shot himself by one of the other grunts.

Brock gasped when the men fell dead, and again when he caught a glimpse of a blazing red "R", not unlike the "B" he had smeared on his tree, on the chest of one of the men. The egg, tucked under his arm, was quickly slipping from his grip. Just as the egg left his grip completely, he made a wild grab for the falling egg, successfully catching it but whacking his arm on a tree branch in the process.

The branch rustled, knocking into a few other branches as it did so. Brock saw the grunts look his way, obviously having been alarmed by the noise. Brock sat there, unmoving, for any movement on his part would likely result in death at the hands of these grunts. Were they staring at him, or at the tree itself? Brock didn't know, but he didn't want to know either.

Eventually, one of the grunts said, "It was probably just another Starly. Don't waste your ammo." The other grunts wordlessly went back to looting from the dead kid as Brock gave a heavy, yet silent sigh of relief. He felt like Death had stared him down, but passed him off as scrap. He would live to see another day, but for how much longer?

The grunts eventually walked off, and Brock was left in the tree with the dead kid and the dead grunts nearby. He didn't move just yet; those grunts could still be nearby. He went back to waiting on his branch, in the exact position as before." At least I got to move my legs a little bit after that, Brock thought, maybe now they won't fall asleep for a few more hours!"

This time around, the waiting seemed much more irritating. Unlike before the shooting, he had been content with waiting around all day, but now it was almost unbearable. With each passing moment he wiled Ash and Dawn to come for him, so that he would at least have something to do.

His mind went back to the dead kid, and the grunts as well. Sure, the grunts were on Team Rocket's side, but their deaths were not deserved, at least not yet. "Maybe I should do something with their bodies", he thought, but he waved the thought away; he wouldn't be able to bury them, so nothing was to be done.

"May their souls rest eternally in the afterlife, wherever and whatever that may be," thought Brock. That simple prayer was the best he could do, but in a way he felt like it was the best thing anyone could do. That was his last thought as he dozed off in the tree.

When Brock woke up, everything was dark." Am I dead?" thought Brock, "did someone kill me in my sleep?" Brock didn't know, and fear began to seize him. What if he was dead, and Ash and Dawn were left on their own? They'd be searching for him for days, weeks even, but they'd never find him. What if they died while finding him? What if they were already dead?

Slowly, his eyes began to adjust to the darkness, and he nearly cried in relief when he saw that he was in the same tree as before, and was not in fact dead. A cool wind blew through his hair, and a newfound chill ran through Brock's body. He wanted so desperately to grab his sleeping bag from his frame backpack, but didn't chance moving around just yet; anyone could still be within hearing distance from Brock's tree.

To his right he noticed a glowing light about eighty yards off. Someone must have made a fire, but Brock didn't hear any voices, just the crackling of the fire. He observed the fire nonchalantly, trying to catch any glimpse of who had made it, but was unable to do so. He thought he saw a red tint in the fire, but didn't think anything of it.

As quickly as he noticed the fire, a strong gust of wind put the fire out, leaving him in the dark. Brock heard a voice mumbling, but couldn't make out what they said, or who said it. After this followed more silence, and Brock thought that whoever had lit the fire had walked off. He closed his eyes to go back to sleep, but a violent, retching sound woke him once again. He was going to poke his head out of the tree to see who it was, but he felt some sort of dust sprinkle itself across the tree as well as his face.

The dust smelled of burnt ash, and got caught in Brock's nose. He could feel a sneeze coming on. "Oh shit," thought Brock, "please don't sneeze, please don't-"

ACHOO!

Brock froze in place, hardly daring to move. Had anyone heard him? Even if they had, would they confront him?

The retching had stopped by now, and a faint "What was that?" could be heard. Brock could tell the voice was a girl's, but he couldn't tell whose it was.

"Get back" hissed another voice. Brock couldn't tell whether this second voice belonged to a boy or a girl. Brock was forced to hold in his breath, out of danger of being heard by whoever was under his tree. Brock could hear a pair of feet crunching the leaves that were under his tree, and he realized that whoever was down there was now at the base of the tree.

In a move that, to Brock, may have been suicide, he slowly peeled back a branch of the tree to see if he could identify who was down there. Sure enough, he saw a dark silhouette, kneeling down by his tree. Why are they kneeling?" thought Brock. But then the figure below turned on a flashlight and pointed it at the tree to reveal the bloody "B" in the light.

The figure stood unmoving, their flashlight still aimed at the "B". Brock felt as if he would pass out from lack of air, since he didn't risk breathing in case it might be audible. Suddenly, the bright beam from the flashlight was pointed directly at Brock, blinding him completely. He flinched backwards, making him fall off of the branch and down to earth.

Brock felt himself crashing through the concealment of the tree and landing hard on the figure, knocking the wind out of Brock as he heard a girl screaming. "Is that Dawn?" thought Brock, as the figure wedged himself out from under Brock, and soon towered over him while Brock was still on the ground, the light pointed at his face.

"Brock?"

"Was that Ash's voice?" thought Brock, who was just now beginning to stand up.

"Brock!" repeated the voice, as Brock felt a pair of arms wrap around him in an embracing hug. The light from the flashlight reveal a slightly bloody, but otherwise unharmed Ash, with Dawn running up to them from behind.

"Oh, thank God!" thought Brock, relieved that his friends were not only alive, but safe and sound. Well, for the moment at least.

"Are you alright?" asked Ash after he ended their reunion hug. "Do you have the egg?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," replied Brock, "and so is the egg. How about you guys?"

"I'm fine," said Ash, his voice darkening with each word he spoke, "but Dawn's not. I'll explain later. Come on, help us make another fire." Brock climbed his tree again to get his stuff before following Ash back to their campsite, which consisted of a single fire pit.

"You can't use your Pokémon?" asked Brock.

"No," said Ash, "mine are gone. All of them. Pikachu's all I got."

"Oh, man," said a disheartened Brock, "I'm sorry. But what about Cyndaquil?"

"Dead." was Ash's sole reply.

"Dead?!" Brock asked incredulously, "but how did he-"

"I'll explain later. I don't want Dawn to get upset again." said Ash.

He set his stuff down, and then pulled from his backpack a flint igniter, which he used to re-kindle Ash's fire. The new glow from the fire was bright enough to reveal Brock's ear wound to Ash and Dawn, and Dawn's arm wound to Brock.

"What happened?!" all three of them screamed simultaneously.

"You first," said Ash, the worry beginning to mount in his voice.

"I fell and got cut," He quietly mumbled, "and her wound?"

Ash returned his sigh before saying, "She got stabbed by the same woman that kidnapped me. She nearly got me with it, though. But seriously, we should re-wrap that ear, it-"

"Never mind me," interrupted Brock, "we need to get that knife out of her arm, now." He dug around in his backpack until he found the bottle of painkillers and tossed it to Dawn. "Take one of these," said Brock, "it'll help with the pain. I'll make some dinner."

Ash relished at the thought of food; he just realized that none of them had had any food today. He watched as Dawn handed Brock a can of Chicken Broth as Brock pulled out his pot from his backpack. Dawn swallowed her painkiller with a small choke, having to force it down her throat.

When the broth finished boiling, Brock evenly distributed it into four bowls and handed three of them to Ash, Dawn, and Pikachu. The other Pokémon would have to wait for their food, thought Brock, but they'd be fine for a while in their PokéBalls. All four of them gulped down the broth in almost no time flat, not even caring that the hot broth was scalding their throats with each gulp. Ash felt like he had never tasted anything more delicious in his life, even though Brock served Chicken Broth at least once a week.

"Alright," said Brock, "now to remove that knife." Dawn looked apprehensive at the thought of the knife coming out of her arm. "Don't worry," chuckled Brock at the sight of her nervousness, "that's what the painkiller was for. It won't hurt as much that way."

"Whatever you're gonna do, do it quick, OK?" said Dawn, who was squeamish despite Brock's reassurance.

"Of course," replied Brock, walking over to Dawn with a roll of bandages. "On the count of three, I'm going to quickly pull out the knife, okay?"

Dawn nodded, her apprehension climbing with every passing second. "I'll look away," she said as she turned her head away from Brock and towards Ash, who gave her a reassuring nod.

"One." said Brock. Before moving on to "two", he jerked the knife free from Dawn's arm, catching both Dawn and Ash off guard. Dawn shrieked in pain, causing Ash to clasp Dawn's mouth shut, in case anyone was nearby. Brock was already wrapping the bandages around Dawn's wound, which was slowly starting to ooze with blood.

"There," said Brock once he had finished, "that wasn't so bad, was it?"

"You idiot!" hissed Dawn, crying tears of pain, "you were supposed to count to three! What the hell was that?"

"Trust me," said Brock, "it would've hurt more if I did, because you would've expected the pain, which makes it hurt more. That wound will heal in no time!"

"You better hope so," snapped Dawn, "or you're gonna get one just like it!" Her threat registered as surprise on Brock's face, and Pikachu hid behind Ash's leg out of fright. "Why is she so angry?" thought Brock, "besides the fact that I ripped a knife out of her arm?"

"Sorry," apologized Dawn, "I'm just so upset about what happened today that…" she didn't finish her sentence.

"Forget it," said Brock, "but could you tell me exactly what did happen today, if you know?"

"Long story short," piped Ash, "Team Rocket's stronger. Now they're calling themselves the Rocket Empire. They've taken over all of Sinnoh. Oh yeah, now there's a region-wide manhunt for us."

"I already knew that last part. They must really want that egg, if they're trying to kill us for it!"

"Well, where do we go from here?" asked Dawn, "obviously we can't stay in Sinnoh without being killed."

"We need to get out," replied Ash. "To Kanto, or Hoenn, maybe. The question is, how?"

Brock pulled out his map of the region and laid it across the ground, then pulled out from his pocket a compass, which he laid on the map. He studied the map, which proved to be a daunting task, since he could barely see it when he only had the light from the fire.

"Okay," Brock finally said, "we have a few options here. There's a port in Canalave City, as well as in Sunyshore. We can hitch a ride on a boat to some other region. We're here," he said, pointing to the edge of Hearthome City, "and we're about equidistant from both cities. "

"We should try Canalave," voted Dawn.

"Why there?" asked Ash, "why not Sunyshore?"

"Because," said Dawn, "Twinleaf Town is on the way. I want to know if my mom is okay."

"Out of the question," said Brock, "We'd have to cross Mt. Coronet, and that just adds extra time to the trip. That, or go around and hit Snowpoint City, which adds time to the trip still. It'd take us a month either way, but going straight to Sunyshore would take us half that time."

"That's true," said Ash, "but it isn't like we can't make the longer trip. I mean, we do have all of this food and supplies. I think that going around the mountain is the best idea, plus we can somehow pick up more supplies at Snowpoint if we need to."

"Yeah, besides," said Dawn, "I think that in this case no news isn't good news."

Brock fell silent, obviously not liking the idea of taking the longer trip to the port. "What about this," he said, "we can take the boat at Sunyshore and stop at Twinleaf Town first before going to another region. This way, everybody wins, right?"

"How do we know that there'll be a boat that'll stop at Twinleaf? Or even if there is a port? For all we know, the ports were destroyed in the invasion. Did you think about that?"

"Well we have to go somewhere, don't we?" vented Ash.

"He's right," said Brock, "we can only assume that the ports are still running. If they're not, we'll go into hiding outside of a city. But for now, we should plan on catching a boat out." Dawn raised her eyebrows at Brock. "And we'll try the Canalave port first." said Brock with a sigh. "That might be a better idea after all; from what I remember, they have a regular boat travelling to and from Kanto; we can take that, assuming it's still running."

"Good," said Dawn, who began to stand up. "I'm gonna go relieve myself, then I'm going to bed."

"Now?" asked Ash, "it's only 5:30!"

"So?" snapped Dawn, "it's been a long day, and I'm tired as hell. Do one of you guys mind keeping watch tonight?

Ash forgot about that part. They'd have to have someone stay up through the night to keep watch, in case anyone who would be looking for them was travelling by night. He was about to volunteer for the watch before Brock said, "I'll do it, I'm not exactly in the mood to sleep."

Neither was Ash, but he didn't object. After everything that had happened today, he wasn't in great condition for offering any sort of argument. He stroked Pikachu's fur, Pikachu being, like Dawn, tired and ready for bed. Ash figured that he might as well try and go to sleep, too. He had no idea how much he would need it in the days to come.