Part 2 Peridot Village, Acacia decided as she rounded the next bend on the dirt path, was not really that much of a village at all. Instead, it was a mind-numbing, boring dirt road that wound through miles upon miles of country side, dotted only by herds of Miltank and rare houses. “I really hate this,” she gasped shoving her bike up the hill, where a large tree stood alone at the tippity-top. An old, broken down pick-up truck lay abandoned under it, and a tire swing hung from the branches that fanned out into the sky. Exhausted, Acacia leaned her bike against the trunk of the tree and flopped down on the rusted tailgate, relishing in the shade the tree provided. How the kids got back and forth between the lab and their homes so easily she couldn’t understand. Acacia was a gracious lab worker; if the kids wanted to come in and learn about Pokemon, she wasn’t the one to stop them. Usually it was Professor Mangrove that did that on the rare times he was actually there—although he would occasionally permit them entry if they did something around the lab, like help carry sacks of feed to the Pokemon. Acacia smiled as she thought about the kids. Nina was the youngest at just-turned-ten, tiny and bespectacled and easily cowed by the other kids. Jeremy was oldest, fourteen and brash, happy to have finally received a Pokemon. Since she was visiting them one at a time, she had made the children choose randomly to keep it fair. Nina had received a Chickorita and Jeremy a Spinarak. She looked down at the list she had pulled out of her pocket. Next to visit was… “Gypsy!” A girl with short, razor-straight black hair turned in annoyance towards the offending voice, green eyes narrowed to slits. She pulled up the strap of her oversized white tank-top, and got down on her knees next to the fence. She ignored the mud seeping into the knees of her pants A brown-haired boy with equally green eyes leaned forward to grab his older sister’s wrist, “Gypsy, you’re going to get us killed! If Paxton sees us…!” His freckled face scrunched up with fear. “Shut up, Joseph.” Gypsy said in a tone of voice that brooked no argument, jerking her hand free. She wanted some strawberries, so she was going to get some. “Zan.” “You too, Zanny,” she replied smartly to her ever-present babysitter. The red and white Zangoose gave a noise that might have been a sigh, reaching up to scratch behind his ear in resignation. Gypsy studiously ignored them both, leaning through the wooden fence towards the strawberry plants. The motorcycle goggles she wore as a headband scraped against the top rung of the fence. As quietly and quickly as she could, the eleven year old grabbed the stem of the plant. Rather than spend time delicately picking the plump, red strawberries off the plant, she yanked the whole thing out of the ground, roots and all. “Pull me back, pull me back!” she hissed, feeling her brother grab the hem of her shirt. Joseph dragged his sister back through the fence with a bit of help from Zangoose. Safely on the other side of the fence, Gypsy held up the plant as though it were a trophy, grinning roguishly. “There,” she said, getting up off the ground and brushing dirt off her tank-top, pulling the strap back up. Her black hair swung into her face as she stood straight. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” “HEY!” Gypsy, Joseph, and Zanny all froze in place, turning to where the balding Farmer Paxton was leaning out of his window, tobacco wad evident in his mouth. He spat brown juice as far as he could at them—only to have it land on the fence. The old man’s face purpled in rage. “Stealing from my garden— I’ll show you! Brats!” He pulled a pokeball out of his breast pocket, throwing it. “Growlithe!” “RUN!” Gypsy yelled, and the three took off, Paxton’s equally grumpy Growlithe right on their tail. The black and red dog chased them a good mile or so down the road before finally stopping, tongue lolling out as it watched them continue running for a few minutes. “Gypsy, I think we can stop running now—“ panted Joseph, finally stopping and flopping to the ground. Gypsy stumbled to a clumsy stop, clutching a stitch in her side. Her feet had begun stinging because of her clunky boots slapping the bottoms of them, so she felt relief as she flopped down to the ground. Her large tank-top had slid off her shoulders once more, revealing the snugger-fitting black one underneath. Zanny sat down as well, grunting in annoyance. Gypsy gave him an apologetic look. He was really getting too old and cantankerous for his job of keeping her and Joseph out of trouble. “Here,” she said after a long moment of attempting to catch their breaths, passing them each a strawberry off the plant, “Tastes even better now, doesn’t it?” Joseph directed a glare at the plump strawberry in his hand. “These are stolen,” he pointed out in annoyance, but taking a bite out of it anyways. “And it makes them even better,” Gypsy repeated herself with emphasis, chewing on her own strawberry with a contented grin and relishing the sharp, sweet burst of flavor. Picking up the leftover stem, she dug a hole with her fingers and replanted it on the roadside. Zanny, despite his annoyance, nodded approvingly. Finishing his strawberry, Joseph wiped his fingers on his shorts and leaned forward, frowning. It was so hot out—even the grass looked scorched, and the dust from the road clung to his clothes and skin, making it even hotter. Zanny, he considered, must have been baking inside his fur. “What do we do now?” Gypsy shrugged, getting to her feet again. She frowned. “The lake?” “Been there.” “The store?” “Been there too. And got chased out.” “Okay… um… home?” Joseph glared. “We live there. Let’s go bug Miss Acacia.” Gypsy huffed in annoyance. “I don’t feel like walking all the way to the lab. And besides, mom told us to stay in the area.” Zanny nodded empathetically, growling to show his opinion. His claws clicked together as he got to his feet as well, followed by Joseph. The nine- year-old scratched his shaggy brown hair with thought as Gypsy bent down to pluck a long blade of grass out of the ground, sticking it in her mouth to chew on. “Well,” Joseph said in a slightly unsure voice, “I guess… we could go to the woods?” Gypsy darted her brother a dubious look. “The woods?” “Yeah.” “Weren’t you the one who was scared to go near Paxton’s farm?” Gypsy grinned around the grass stalk as Joseph glared. “Yeah, but the woods doesn’t wield guns and insane Growlithes,” Joseph responded with a glare. “No, but they have Beedrill.” “Oh,” Joseph uttered, then shook his head, “Okay then, um, how about we go to the schoolhouse? Maybe Teach is doing something interesting today.” It was Gypsy’s turn to glare, green eyes narrowed. “No.” she replied in a definite voice, hushing any argument, “I like that idea of going to the woods.” Zanny growled to show his exact thought on “that idea”. He grabbed her elbow, extraordinarily gentle despite his huge claws. “Zan!” he barked, so obviously channeling her mother. Gypsy shook his paw away, giving him a Look. “Oh, come on,” she replied irritably, “I’m bored, Joseph’s bored, and we’ll only go in the first few trees or so. We won’t get lost or anything.” Zanny glowered at her, but followed after Gypsy and Joseph anyway as they left the path and into the tall grass. The Zangoose tensed his muscles up, staring around and appearing as threatening as possible to any wild Pokemon that got any ideas to approach the two kids. From far off, he saw a Furret stick its head above the grass to watch them, but he wasn’t incredibly worried about it. Navigating through the grass was much harder than she thought, Gypsy realized after about fifteen minutes of fighting her way through and making little progress. Roots tangled around her feet, briar thorns caught her pants, and burrs got tangled in her tank-top. Getting down lower into the field, she realized that they were trudging through puddles of water that had grown stagnant around the grass roots. Thankfully, aside from the occasional Ratatta that darted out of their way as they trudged through, there were no overly aggressive Pokemon to be seen. Finally, they made it to the tree line, where the tall grass stopped at the defensive barrier of shade that the trees made. The three gratefully pulled themselves free of the grass and roots, stepping under the trees. They looked cautiously around the woods, staring wide-eyed at the huge trees, bearing down on them like monsters with thousands of curling arms. Vines, and moss hung off of them in blankets, and ivy grew along the floor. Sprouts that looked suspiciously like Oddish leaves were scattered inconspicuously throughout the ivy. Every once in a while, a yellow, bell- shaped head poked up through the foliage to look at the kids curiously. Gypsy smirked, taking a few steps forward. “See Zanny?” she asked, holding her arms out to the sky. “Nothing bad happened!” Zanny made no sound, stepping forward with her, claws twitching as he looked around. The forest was quiet. Joseph hung back, uneasy. “Sis,” he said fearfully, “really, I was just kidding when I said the woods. Let’s go back.” Gypsy walked up to a particularly large tree, planting a foot in the Y bend and trying to hoist herself up. “Oh please. What could happen? An irate Butterfree attack?” she laughed sarcastically, grabbing a branch and hauling herself up the tree “Butterfree know Poison Powder!” Joseph pointed out as his sister climbed up the tree. Gypsy studiously ignored this, throwing her arms over one particularly thick branch and pulling herself up. Something white and fluffy caught her attention from the corner of her eye. Turning her head, she saw two baby Mankey stored safely inside a hollow in the tree trunk. They peered out curiously at her with blinking, red eyes. The bolder of the two stuck his head out and sniffed the air with his piggish nose, emitting a small squeal. Gypsy giggled. She reached out with one hand and patted the Mankey on the head, savoring the feel of soft baby fur under her fingers. “Aren’t you a cutie?” Joseph glanced sharply up at her. “What did you find up there?” “Mankey!” Gypsy laughed as the Mankey she had pet jerked back into the hollow and let out another squeal. “They’re just babies!” Joseph paled and Zanny visibly cringed with a low growl. “What about their parents?” Gypsy shrugged, trying to reach to pat the shyer of the pair. “I don’t know, maybe they’re not around—“ The leaves right by her head rustled suddenly, and Gypsy whirled around as there was a blinding flash of whitish-cream colored fur. Losing her balance, she fell from the branch, arms flailing wildly in an attempt to catch a vine or branch. Thankfully, Zanny was quick enough to catch her before she hit the forest floor, cushioning her in his soft arms. He set her down as Joseph ran forward, grabbing Gypsy’s elbow as she stood up. The three stared up in horror at the trees, eyes widening as more and more fully-grown Mankey filled the branches, obviously having reacted to the sound of the baby squealing. The Mankey screeched and screamed, jumping up and down in the branches like some sort of tribal dance. There was a loud thud behind them, and they whirled around, backing away from the forest edge—their only escape—as a large Primeape stood up straight, flexing its muscles dangerously. It was obviously the leader, and experienced to boot, with scars stretched across the bald patches that peeped through its fur. One of its ears was missing, probably torn off in battle at some point. “Gypsy, I told you we should have gone back!” Joseph cried. Gypsy pulled him back further as a response. Zanny, however, had different ideas, stepping forward instead and holding up his claws in a challenge. He had been charged by Joseph and Gypsy’s grandfather to protect the two at all costs, and that was what he planned to do, regardless of how long it had been since he had actually battled. Primeape screeched loudly, making ape-like noises as it jumped up and down, slamming its fists into the ground. Zanny waved his claws threateningly, hoping perhaps to intimidate the Primeape into backing down. He growled deep in his throat. No such luck. Without warning, the Primeape charged Zanny, using a simple tackle attack that the Zangoose barely managed to dodge. With a grunt, Zanny lashed out with his claws, leaving a smooth streak of red across the Primeape’s face. This only made the pig-monkey angrier as it wheeled around, directing a kick at Zanny’s gut. Joseph and Gypsy watched in horror as Zanny stumbled back, the wind knocked out of him. A fist met the Zangoose’s face and he fell, body rolling across the forest floor several times before skidding to a stop in the ivy. After a moment, he struggled back to his feet, wavering as the Primeape stomped its feet tauntingly and pumped its muscles. Zanny regained his bearings, spreading his feet and holding up his claws again. Behind him, Zanny took up a stance as well, biting her lip but keeping a determined face as the Primeape showed off to his troops. Her grandfather’s well-versed lessons came to mind. “Sis, what are you doing?” Joseph hissed, grabbing her elbow, “You don’t know how to battle, and Zanny belongs to Gramps anyway!” “I’m not the one who’s fighting; Zanny is,” Gypsy retorted, jerking her elbow away, “And Gramps’ the one who taught me a few of his attacks in case something like this happened!” She turned to Zanny at about the same time Primeape charged again, his fists held up in attack mode. “Zanny, dodge him and use Slash!” Acacia blinked, slowly rolling to a stop on the road and planting her foot down. She looked around curiously. “I could’ve sworn I just heard yelling…” she thought aloud, being absolutely still for a long moment. Just as she was about to continue pedaling on her way, she heard it again— except as a loud shriek from what sounded like Mankey coming from the forest’s edge just down the hill from her. Acacia dropped her bike, pulling a pokeball out of her pocket and running down into the field. “Sis, I don’t think it’s going to do much good,” Joseph said loudly, bottom lip trembling, “Fighting Pokemon are a lot stronger than normal type, and Zanny’s old.” Gypsy bristled at this, but inside, knew it was true. Zanny could dodge and lay on a fast attack or two as much as he wanted, but even she could see the Zangoose was tiring out, sweat glistening on the ends of his graying fur. WHAM! Primeape delivered a swift blow to Zanny’s side, causing him to stumble, gasping to catch his breath. An elbow to the back of the neck sent him down to the ground, where he struggled to push himself up again, muscles trembling from overexertion. Primeape kicked him again… …and this time, he didn’t move. Gypsy didn’t think as Primeape quickly advanced on Zanny’s still body— didn’t give herself time to think, and ran out to where the two had been scuffling, standing over Zanny with outstretched arms in the hope that Primeape would cease his attack. Primeape didn’t stop, and the last thing Gypsy saw was sky, and treetops, and more sky, and a bright bolt of electricity as time and awareness slipped away, darkness fading in.