Slate retrieved Eevee’s unopened Poké Ball from the grass in front of the house. He still didn’t understand why Eevee hadn’t appeared. He continuously performed the double-click release command with the capsule’s button, but all it would do is shrink and expand repeatedly as if pressed only once. It didn’t make sense. For whatever reason, Eevee was stuck inside the ball.
Slate didn't know what to do. He considered calling the police but didn't have a phone. He thought of asking a neighbor for help, but the lights in the houses around him were out, and he could have sworn that more than one went out while he was standing there. Suddenly, it occurred to him—the ferry!
He wasn’t sure how far the village his mother had mentioned was from Almony Island’s residential district, but there was a chance the kidnappers were still waiting for the next ferry to the mainland. Slate fixated on the idea, returned Eevee’s defective Poké Ball to his pocket, pulled the ajar front door closed, and started running in the direction the cars had headed.
After a minute or two, Slate cleared the rows of identical houses and came upon a slope. Looking down from the top, he could see signs of the village at the bottom of a winding road. It wasn’t too steep, so Slate took a risk by abandoning the road and haphazardly sliding down the hillside. He happily realized that it was much faster than following the road would have been—assuming he didn’t lose his footing. Halfway down, though, something unexpected blocked his path.
Slate skidded to a halt behind a bush, just before stumbling upon a pack of wild Pokémon, which were making quite a ruckus. Luckily, there was a clear path around them. However, as he moved quietly around the disturbance, he caught sight of the pack. There were five small, four-legged, gray-colored Pokémon with bright eyes, growling and snapping at another of their kind, which was cowering on the floor. Oddly, this one’s fur was white.
A pang of guilt coursed through Slate as he covertly crept around the pack. He felt bad for the pup, but there was no time, he had to get to his mom. Even so, just as he reminded himself of this, Slate knew he couldn’t walk away from such a scene without doing anything to help. He tutted angrily at himself before turning back and searching the brush for a tool.
Just as the Pokémon aggressors began biting at their alternatively colored brother, Slate emerged from the bushes, yelling loudly, and waving a stick around wildly. The pups were startled by his abrupt appearance and quickly departed in fright. Slate was glad his intervention had been effective. If the pack had turned on him, he could have been in real trouble.
He knelt nearby the still-cowering white pup, whose eyes were closed, and said gently, “They’re gone. You’re okay now.”
The shaking pup slowly opened its eyes, looked around, and met Slate’s gaze. All of a sudden, it sprung to its feet, took an offensive stance, and started growling at him. Slate dropped the stick, held his hands up, and backed away slowly.
“Easy now. It’s alright, you’re okay, I’m leaving,” he said.
The Pokémon stopped growling but still looked wary. After a quick wave goodbye, Slate headed on down the slope twice as fast to try and make up the time he had lost. He soon reached the bottom and followed the road, which turned into a developed area. A signpost ahead read:
Welcome to Marcona Village
Slate followed the road through the small, tree-lined village, taking little notice of the buildings or people he was passing. Eventually, he spotted the outline of the distant Mt. Legume on the mainland and headed toward it until he reached the edge of the island. Panting, he took a moment to catch his breath while scouring up and down the coast. There it was—the ferry was docked on Almony Island—and it was close.
Slate wiped the sweat from his brow and broke into a run again, trying to ignore the stitch in his side. He was going to make it. He might not be able to fight the goons who had taken his mother, but he could at least follow them now. Maybe he could even sneak into one of their cars. He would at least be able to get their license plate numbers, so he could report them to the police.
Sadly, as Slate reached the ferry dock, his hopes were dashed as an unbelievable sight blocked his path. What looked like a veritable mountain of jelly was surrounding the entire ferry dock entrance. It was at least eight feet tall and there was no way around it. Slate reached out to touch the incomprehensible mass of translucent, purplish-colored ooze.
“STOP!” a voice from behind cried out. A young girl wearing a blue and white leather jacket and cut-off jeans stormed across the road, her long, brown, side-ponytail swaying as she did. “What are you doing? Don’t you know what they are?”
“What?” Slate questioned, drawing his hand back quickly before turning around. “‘They?’”
“The Slugish!” snapped the girl bossily. “They’re poisonous!”
“Slugish?” Slate repeated in confusion.
“How can you not know about Slugish? Are you a tourist or something?” the girl interrogated with her hands on her hips.
“I-I’ve just moved here,” Slate started, his breathing still labored from running. Then, remembering his situation, he added, “I’ve got to get on that ferry, can you help?”
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“Sorry, looks like you’ll have to wait for the next one, it’ll be back in twenty minutes or so.”
“Sorry folks,” said a uniformed man outside the dock office, where other prospective ferry passengers had begun to gather. “We’ve reported the swarm to the police. They should be here soon to deal with it, but I recommend you keep well away from the Slugish until they arrive, so back up a bit, please.”
Slate took another look at the wall. On closer inspection, it was moving slightly. He stepped away as he realized it was made up of hundreds of Pokémon.
“Please, I need to get on that ferry!” Slate pleaded frantically with the ferry worker.
Overhead, a horn sounded. “Sorry, lad,” the man replied, “there’s no safe way around them and that’s the departure signal. Don’t worry, it'll be back soon. Hopefully, the swarm will be dealt with by then.”
Slate’s stomach fell. He dashed to the edge of the wall of Slugish and watched in sadness as the ferry began to sail away. He had gambled on catching the ferry. Now that it—and his mother—were floating off into the distance, he didn’t know what to do anymore. Slate fell to his knees, consumed by failure and fatigue.
“Umm, is everything okay?” the girl asked. “You’re still a bit too close to the swarm, you know.”
Slate didn’t respond.
“Well, I’ve got to go…”
“Wait,” Slate said. “Err, thanks for warning me about the Slugish. Can I ask, do you know whereabout in Hazell Town the Pokémon Laboratory is?”
The girl seemed taken aback by Slate’s question for some reason. She narrowed her eyes and asked suspiciously, “Why?”
“I’m new to the area and I don’t know the way. I’m supposed to meet with a Pokémon professor there. A Professor Larch, I think.”
“You’re not very lucky, are you?” the girl said quizzically. “Professor Larch is gone.”
“What? Why?” Slate fretted.
“The Lab was bought by Silph Co. and the professor lost her position. Thankfully she left before their thugs turned up…”
“What do you mean?” Slate questioned.
“Nothing. Forget I said that. So, what do you need with the professor anyway?”
“She’s a friend of my mom. I’m supposed to find her.”
“Wait a minute,” the girl began, “you said you’re new to the area? You’re not Heather Davy’s son, are you?”
“Yeah, that’s my mom! I’m Slate Davy. How did you know?”
“I guess you are lucky, after all. You better come with me,” she explained enigmatically before walking back across the road to where she had first appeared.
Slate didn’t understand what was going on, but he decided to follow the girl. Once he caught up to her, she began looking all around her before explaining, “I’m April. April Larch. And this,” she signaled over her shoulder with her thumb, “is Rodenki!”
A very cute, tiny, white and yellow Pokémon with reddish cheeks and bucked teeth poked its head out of the hood of April’s jacket and squeaked at him in greeting.
“Err, nice to meet you both,” Slate offered.
“Don’t you get it?” April said under her breath. “My mom is the professor you’re looking for!”
“Wait, Professor Larch is your mo—” Slate attempted to clarify.
“Keep your voice down!” April chastised, turning her head wildly, checking for anyone within earshot.
Slate went silent and awaited more information.
“My mom is in hiding!” April whispered. “She can’t leave the house, but she needed to warn you and your mother about what’s going on, so she asked me to go to your house and find you both. If I hadn’t seen you about to mess with the Slugish, we would have missed each other! Funny world, eh?”
“What did you need to warn us about?”
“Honestly? It’s unbelievable, but strange things are happening in Nutera. My mom is convinced that the people who came for her would be going after your mom too.”
Slate shook his head in disbelief. “So much for being lucky,” he sighed.
“Why? It’s a pretty big coincidence that we met, isn’t it?” April asked.
“It’s too late, though,” Slate lamented, “they already got my mom. I chased them all the way to the ferry, but when I arrived—”
“The Slugish wall blocked your path…” April finished. “Oh, I’m so sorry! We thought I would be in plenty of time to warn you. Those thugs must have come right after you arrived!”
“They did. Who are they?”
“We’re not certain but my mom thinks they’re connected to Silph Co. somehow.”
“Silph Co.? The Pokémon technology company? They’re really big in Kanto.”
“Yeah, they have a big presence here too. Strangely big. Did you hear the company was bought out last year by some anonymous corporation? Well, whoever's running it now has some very different ideas compared to their predecessor, and they seem to be using Nutera as a testing ground. It’s all very shady if you ask me.”
“Where are we going?” Slate asked as he followed April through the village.
“To our ‘hideout’, you could say. Our house is in Hazell Town, but my mom's smart—she rented another place in secret and got us out—she’ll know what to do.”
April led Slate down what appeared to be the last road on that side of the village. It was quiet and there weren’t any shopfronts. When they reached one of the final buildings on the block, April scoured her surroundings and announced, “Here we are. Our apartment’s upstairs. Before we go up, though, I’ve been meaning to ask, is that your Cryote following us?”
“Huh?” Slate asked, looking baffled. April nodded her head to the side, and he looked in the direction she indicated. Hiding behind a nearby streetlight, Slate could just about make out the snout, eyes, and white fur of the Pokémon he came to the aid of on the hillside.
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