Pokemon Fan Fiction / Pokemon Fan Fiction ❯ War of the World ❯ Chapter One ( Chapter 1 )

Summary : Venturing nine years into the future, the world is in a war with Team Rocket. Ash Ketchum has managed to avoid becoming a part of this war, at great expense, but soon that will change. Does he still possess the will and want to help others or will he turn his back on the chance to end the war?

Title : War of the World

*****

A rotor thrummed in the distance, coming from above, just close enough for Ash Ketchum's alert ears to notice it. Pikachu, too, caught this noise. Ash moved hastily to a small ledge protruding from the jagged wall of rocks. He grabbed Pikachu urgently, his temper flaring when his Pokemon put up a struggle at the prospect of being in a confined area. Without the patience or ability to deal with it now, Ash tightened his grip on Pikachu and got down on his knees then onto his stomach, inching under the rock. It was a tight squeeze, stray pebbles and irritating sand made him uncomfortable, but he managed even with Pikachu cradled under his chest with his arms wrapped around it.

The sound became more distinct as it came closer. Ash shifted agitatedly. Small stones were poking into the skin of his arms and the dry sand was itching at his hands. The roof of the ledge had random areas spouting lumps, pieces that dug into his shoulders and back since he had to prop himself up on his elbow in order to hold Pikachu. It squirmed uneasily and tried desperately to flee the cramped space, but Ash had to hold onto it.

He could hear the noise passing overhead, a helicopter no doubt. Probably Team Rocket, scouting for unsuspecting troops to launch an attack on. Ash rolled his eyes. He felt stupid hiding under the ledge. It didn't seem likely that whoever was up in the helicopter would be able to spot him when they were so far apart, but if he could see the chopper then they could see him as well. Some people put up dark curtains in their houses, having them closed at all times and lights that were rarely turned on; Ash was sure that those people found it hard to believe that someone would come barging into their home if they took down the curtains. But he, like everyone else, took precautions.

Pikachu wriggled free of Ash's clutch, desperate to get out of the space as if it were claustrophobic. Ash tried to make a grab for Pikachu, but it was too fast and the space too cramped for him to move. He blew wind out through his teeth angrily. Despite the sound of pattering helicopter blades having faded, Ash had not been ready to move. There was no way to be entirely sure that they were out of the visual range of whomever was in that helicopter, because he could not see out from underneath the ledge, until the sound was completely gone. They could spot Pikachu and open fire. Kill it with a hail of bullets. Land to investigate the area for more inhabitants. Find him. They would shoot him too, without letting him get in a single word.

This was what the world had become.

Back in the open area, Pikachu gratefully wagged its tail forth and back as if it had been cramped in a box for hours. Ash, glaring, tried to shift so that he could move. He flattened his chest on the grainy ground and used his arms to scoot out an inch at a time. His arms raised him off the ground and drove his back into the pointed and most hurtful areas of the ledge as he tried to get out. Pikachu nuzzled Ash's shoulder as a he shifted out. Immediately, he got to his feet, looming over it and glowering. Even if he was more vexed at having rocks jab at his back and chafe at his hands, he wasn't ready to let go of the feeling and Pikachu was a good target of his pent up emotion since it had run out without his consent. It could have been shot! Although, it really could not know any better. No matter how intelligent a creature seemed, its level of comprehension did not compare to a persons. So Pikachu would never truly understand the extent of possible danger that they faced each day.

Ash, preferring to feel grumpy then worry about any more approaching danger, stalked back onto his original trail lined by orange, hard clay. Pikachu scampered to catch up to Ash's ankles. It held onto his pant leg with clawed fingers, making Ash take smaller steps, and waddled alongside him.

There was supposed to be a forest somewhere beyond this mesa. Unfortunately, Ash had absolutely no sense of direction, even with his map. He stared at it, but looking from the bottom up he did not see the path they were on. Just thick black lines, red lines and dots charting locations that were once popular paths or rest-stops. Himarii Forest was not located on the map, but Ash hoped that the green blob of color on the right side of the paper was it. If he followed the mesa, than turned right, the forest would be somewhere in that direction. Why did he have to be cursed to be map and direction illiterate?

His feet were callused and he could feel a blister forming on the side of his left foot every time he took a step. New shoes were definitely in order, since his current ones had a hole at the front and the soles had become flimsy and offered no cushion when he stepped. Ash picked up Pikachu reluctantly, who was having difficulty maneuvering through pointed pebbles and small rocks littering the ground.

Pikachu's fur was sand-filled and grimy; it had become considerably thin, much like Ash, without food and proper nourishment. Food was a rare find, as Ash often avoided the simple paths where fruit trees usually grew. He also had the bad luck to come across cities that had previously been ransacked or even demolished. Not only that, but his constant walking burned off the pounds all too quickly. Just thinking about food, Ash's stomach grumbled in protest of its emptiness.

Ash reached back and scratched Pikachu behind the ears. Pikachu was really the one that had the most difficult time. Its eyes were a glossy gray and held a vacant, unseeing gaze. The sense of smell and sight heightened for Pikachu, but without sight it had a serious disability. Dangerous if they were to have someone sneak up on them because its aim was poor if the person stood far and still.

Seven pounds was added to Ash's load, between his travel bag and shoulder, and set him off balance almost enough to cause him to fall back, but Pikachu dug its claws into his shoulder front and was positioned in a forward lean that kept Ash balanced. He wondered how Pikachu remained so proud even with its handicap. Head held high, confident, even though it was blind.

*****

Four fingernails drummed rapidly and forcefully on a building side wall, radiating an rankled demeanor, listening to the dozen of other group members try to get in a word over the other. They stood in a disorderly half-circle, broken off in pairs or threes. The noise grew obnoxious and voices got more hurried and emphasized, but the redhead remained quiet and set off from the group. She couldn't stand the incessant quarreling much longer. None of them had any good ideas, no possible plans, not even an inkling as to what day tomorrow was. Why did she always pick the idiots?

"Hey!" She shouted finally, startling some of the group. Some of the more ruffled and fired up ones continued talking enthusiastically.

"Can it!"

Silence followed her outburst. She was satisfied at their quiet.

"Don't kid yourselves," she began, standing up straight and joining the half-circle of bodies. "Thirteen people can't end a war. If you want to do something, then we have to find more people to join us," said Misty grouchily, her arms folded over her chest.

"And then what?" Wrenolds asked. "We're against violence. Remember?" A few people chuckled and he grinned saucily.

Misty glared at him. Asshole. Her mood was always a bitter one, now made angrier by Wrenolds' mocking insult. He didn't have to like her, but he could at least try to be civil to her. Instead of smacking him and making a scene, she smiled nastily and continued fiercely.

"I didn't say we were gonna fight in the war. But we are can try and make a small army."

"An army to fight a war…" Wrenolds said scornfully.

"No, Wrenolds. Maybe if you stopped talking out of your ass and listened to me, you'd understand. Now, as I was saying, we'll go after Team Rocket Headquarters. It's stationed in Viridian City. Whatever's left of it, anyway. I'd say we could draw up a treaty for them, but neither side will budge." This war was supposed to stop Team Rocket's conquest to conquer and gain ascendancy, but Team Rocket and their total ranks had been underestimated. They were larger in quantity than any government or military figure could have estimated.

"I don't even think they remember what they're fighting for," said Misty apathetically, "But anyway, we have to take out the leader, boss, whoever's in charge."

"Won't that just add fuel to the fire?"

Good point… "It's the best shot we have," Misty tried to reason. It was the only plan that had any chance of succeeding. She knew it would work. Somehow.

A thought came to her suddenly.

"We make their leader call off the war." That was simple enough.

Once again, the group members began another heated argument. ("You mean hold him hostage?", "More violence?", "We don't have the resources to do this!") Misty sighed and backed away from the circle, ignoring anyone whom tried to get her involved. Their group of survivors, perhaps even rebels, was dysfunctional, to say the least. Often, she felt out of place around them. Granted, she held a great dislike for most of them, especially Wrenolds, and tried to distance herself from them. However, no one else seemed to have any leadership qualities. No one could rally them up, so she had to take the responsibility upon herself. And the thanks she received were wise-ass comments and ridicules.

Misty was one of the firsts to join the group almost seven months ago. They traveled an entire country for close to a year, searching for townsfolk, soldiers or lone travelers who wanted to find a way to end the war. There weren't many people to find on their route; fewer who were willing to join them. Their group consisted of three defected Rockets, five militants, three journeyers, one former Pokemon Tech top graduate by the name of Giselle, and a rowdy loudmouth. Giselle wasn't as prissy as Misty recalled her being, but she was still conceited. Probably had that awful Cubone, too.

Somehow, Misty mused ruefully, their cause seemed almost foolish. Like they were attempting something hopeless that was out of their hands. Misty noted with a grim expression that they were just a handful of people wanting to fix the world. Demotic, yet determined, people trying to do extraordinary things. She just wanted this war to be over with. Believed she could end it. She just had to get the group to put in the effort.

*****

With a sleeping Pikachu cradled in his exhausted arms, Ash stepped lightly to avoid waking it up. Light was fading at an unnoticeable rate, but it could have only been late afternoon. Very late afternoon.

The ground was rugged, getting flatter and easier to maneuver through as he continued. His foot touched a loose rock that moved too much to support his weight, so he leapt over that one. Pikachu's ear twitched agitatedly and it opened its eyes just a crack to glare up at where it assumed Ash's face was. Ash moved on to another huge boulder that looked secure enough. The boulder moved as he set his feet down and Ash wobbled to maintain his balance. Again, the boulder shook and began moving. Not rolling, but moving upward. Ash jumped off backwards, losing his footing as he landed on a crooked rock. He had enough control over his fall to make sure his bottom landed on a flat surface, but it still hurt. Pikachu sprang off his chest and onto a sturdier surface.

Ash scooted back hastily from the towering figure. It let loose a guttural roar. Pikachu, alarmed and threatened, aimed a bolt of electricity at the sound, which only made the bellow became louder. Ash turned and tripped in his attempt to get to his feet, but he quickly got up, ignoring his sore knees which had landed on an edge, and began running. He bent down and grabbed Pikachu even in his haste, but it slowed him down considerably to try and not bounce it around like a stuffed animal. The Steelix, as tall as an office building and as dull in color, had only to lunge its head forward and crash down into Ash's path. Ash halted and backtracked, but he found Steelix curling its tail around. Entrapping him. He tried to crawl over the body of boulders and was simply knocked back down with a simple movement of the tail. He learned then that rock was not easy to hold onto without foot holes.

From where Steelix had rose from, another form emerged. She pulled herself out of a wide hole with a great effort from her arms. The woman ran forward quickly and shouted out at Steelix, making sure that it would not harm the traveler. She jerked a thumb behind her, indicating for Steelix to leave just in case this guy did something stupid to provoke it. Without her Pokemon for protection, she drew a gun and pointed it steadily at Ash.

"Hey wa-"

She cocked the gun. "Shut up."

Ash held his hands raised up as if showing a police officer that he was unarmed. He remained motionless with the shock of having a gun pointed at him. The possibility of him being shot was unappealing and his mind raced with irrational thoughts of what he would do to avoid being shot. However, he noticed without even realizing he had searched, that there was a bold-faced, red 'R' imprinted on her outfit. Oh shit… Think fast, Ash.

*****

Author's Note - This idea just kind of came to me when I was searching for something to write about. I guess it's a combination of the United States possibly going to war, learning about the causes of war in Global Studies, and wanting to convey the seriousness and the changes that war brings about to the world. Its not something that can be taken lightly, and I'm trying to look at it from many aspects. I hope this has been enjoyable so far.

Quote - "Every gun that is made, every warship launched, every rocket fired, signifies- in the final sense, a theft from those who hunger and are not fed, those who are cold and not clothed." - Eisenhower

Matching Song - "Look at the shoes you're filling,

Look at the blood we're spilling,

Look at the world we're killing,

The way we've always done before,

Look in the doubt we've wallowed,

Look at the leaders we've followed,

Look at the lies we've swallowed,

And I don't want to hear no more,

My hands are tied for all I've seen has changed my mind,

But still the war goes on as the years go by,

With no love for God or human rights,

'Cause all these dreams are swept aside,

By bloody hands of the hypnotized,

Who carry the cross of homicide,

And history bears the scars of our civil wars." - Civil War by Guns 'n' Roses