>Not allowed to run from trainer battles? Who says?

	Flashing red lights and the mechanical dinging of motor bells signaled the gate arms to fall. A red semi-trailer truck came to a roll. It hauled an insulated steel box that read: MCA CARGO. Engine breaks squealed before the threshold to the Driftveil City Drawbridge. Beams of steel and the road itself reached upward into the clouded night sky. Shifting gears, the truck turned into the parking lot. Silas could barely make out the passing cargo ship’s side lights through the window grime from inside the Sad Stoutland. He had stayed at worse rest stops before. It was a dive, but at least there was an actual motel next door.
	Silas and Ayumu set their belongings down and seated themselves at the bar. The zipper on Silas’s backpack came undone and Wheaton the Volbeat rolled out onto the floor with a thud. With buzzing wings he drifted up onto the counter rubbing the sleep from his eyes. A man dressed in flannel and a trucker hat grumbled over a soggy cheeseburger at the other end. The firefly Pokemon stared down the food.
	Hime the Mawile leaped up to take a seat on the stool next to Ayumu.
	Silas wrenched the knot in his back. “This sucks. That Torterra idea sounds much better right about now. You call him Midori? That’s the way to travel. Riding a Torterra through city traffic. Then, Alex Heriot swoops down from a helicopter and nukes me with his Dragapult. But no tripping over Trubbish in alleyways. No more walking. Totally worth it.” Folding himself over the bar, his head landed next to a bowl of peanuts. “Can’t even take a cab. Streets are crawling with Heriot clowns.” Silas groaned. “Of all people Team Aqua had to pick a fight with.”
	Ayumu raised an eyebrow.
	Silas jolted upright. “I-I mean the environment. Yeah, of course. Even Team Aqua would agree shutting down an oil rig on the brink of exploding or whatever is a good call. Protecting the wildlife? Not that I would know or anything.”
	Silas’s mouth was running ahead of him. He was tired after spending all day getting to the edge of the city. The two of them could rest up and make way for the Heriot oil rig at the break of dawn. The Silph Co. X2 speedboat with blue flame decals he had nicknamed “Gaslight” waited in anchor just across the bridge on the Route 5.
	The mustached bartender hobbled over. His graying hair reflected silver under the dim lights. “What can I get you boys?”
	“Something sweet if you have it.” said Ayumu as he tended to Hime offering the Mawile premade sweets. He carefully unwrapped the handmade creation. Volbeat teetered over and tugged at his sleeve.
	The bartender snorted. “Yeah, I’ll see if we have any cookies in the back. But we’re fresh out of milk on tap.” He shook his head and turned to Silas. “For you, stretch?”
	“Just whatever beer... Actually, whiskey. Straight,” said Silas. He was not about to blow what could be his last opportunity to drink on some awful Unovan brew.
	With a nod the bartender poured the drink. Then, he went back to cleaning the counter top.
	Silas took a swig of the amber liquor. It burned in his chest on the way down. “Might as well take a look at what else we got info wise.” He flipped open the Pokenav. “Alex’s life is a waterfall of entertainment.”
	Ayumu and Silas reviewed the brief notes on the Heriot oil rig and its map location. There were emergency sea ladders that could get them to the main platform. Sliding through the other files on the device he saw measurements for tailored suits, news outlet info graphics on Team Plasma’s diminishing forces, and dozens of heavy metal albums.
	Silas let some of the heavy metal play through the tinny Pokenav speakers. “This guy is kind of a nerd for suits, huh? The bow is almost… festive? I don’t even know.”
	Then, he had reached some of the earliest downloaded files. Old photographs of a woman sitting on a patio surrounded by a lush garden. Brown flowing hair. Pale skin. Alex’s mom? She was quite beautiful. He had gone through other more recent photos of his family, but she didn’t show up in any of them. Something lay heavy in Silas’s chest like catching a spear to the heart. Losing someone that close early on… It really changes things. The one thing Silas and Alex seemingly had in common. But he wasn’t anything like Alex. Was he? No, there was a coldness to Alex. A force of nature spawned from things beyond that loss. Silas pushed it aside. He took another swig of whiskey and opened a Project Voltage video from muscle memory. Eon Ticket.
	“Oh, sorry I didn’t mean to turn this on.” Silas reached for the close button, but Ayumu motioned for his attention.
	A smile sprouted on Silas’s face. “Wait, you like Miku too? She’s pretty great. And cute, yeah. She’s Miku. Her ground-type odango hair is awesome. Did you know she’s having a concert right over in Nimbasa City? Wouldn’t it be awesome to see her for real… I wonder if they still have tickets available...”
	“Hey.” The trucker from the far end of the bar called. “Turn that gay shit off.”
	Silas clicked his tongue. “Hey, shut up.” He threw a handful of peanuts in his direction. Shells and peanut debris fell short atop the counter.
	“Easy, stretch.” The bartender wiped the bar top clean.
	Closing the player on his Pokenav, Silas turned to Ayumu. “You know, you can just forget the oil rig stuff. I want to see Miku live dammit.” He finished off another drink. At this point, Silas didn’t care if Team Aqua had to chase him all the way back to Hoenn for backing out. “It’s a shitty job anyway. You don’t deserve to be hanging in dives with the likes of me. Oh, but keep the earnest money. I dragged you this far.”
	Two men in striking black uniforms rolled up to the bar. The bearded one held up a piece of paper to the bartender. “Have you seen this kid come through here?”
	The bartender squinted, “Stretch? Yeah, he’s right there.” He pointed at Silas.
	Dangling the picture in front of Silas’s face, the bearded man chuckled. “I knew I was good. But this has got to be my best work yet. Richter, take a picture of me next to this one with my sketch. It’s the spitting image. Stay right where ya are, kid. We’ve been looking all over for ya. You’re lucky. This was our last stop of the night too. We’re taking that Pokenav of yours.”
	Silas slid out of his seat. “Hey come on, what are you talking about? You’re trying to swipe my Pokenav? What is this...” He gave a false laugh. “Some kind of shakedown?” He inched towards his backpack.
	“You know what. You wanna cross Alex? This is a very big mistake. Now cough up the ‘nav or we’ll spill your guts right here!”
	A blur of blue feathers swooped over the bar top. Drinks and glassware flew to the floor as a Cramorant wrestled Volbeat into it’s beak and raced for the door. A younger guard caught the Cramorant in his arms and rushed outside.
	“Wheaton! That’s my bug!”
	“Oh, and it looks like your only Pokemon had to run.” Tapping the Pokeballs on their belts, the bearded man and his partner released a Dragalge and Darmanitan into the confined bar space. Brownish-green antennae ominously drifted damp with poison. A wicked sharp smile snapped. Flames sparked from the mouth of the blazing Pokemon. “What’s it going to be… Stretch, was it?”
	 Silas set his jaw. A raging torrent surged through him. He was not about to lose Volbeat to these goons. “Listen, hey, I don’t really have anything against your boss. If Team Aqua wants what he’s got so bad they can just ask him. I’m out.” He put himself behind Ayumu. “You want to cross me? Fine. Cross my bug? You’ll have to deal with my friend here.” Silas clapped Ayumu on the shoulder. “Sorry, but this puts us square on the earnest money. Good luck, Ayumu!”
	Silas dashed for the exit. The sound of heavy knuckles pounded after him. Pushing through the door, the large glass pane shattered behind him. Darmanitan hollered to the night sky, spilling into the parking lot. Grunting and gnashing of teeth brushed the back of his neck. Volbeat’s light flickered across the street bobbing along with the wing beat of the Cramorant. The young guard hustled and led the two Pokemon towards the service stairs under the bridge.
	“Shit. Shit. Shit. Wheaton, hang on.” Silas ran towards the parked MCA Cargo truck.
	The goon’s voice echoed behind him. “Darmanitan, flamethrower!”
	Fire roared and set the dark rest stop to light. Silas could feel the heat lap at his back as he rolled under the trailer. Scrambling to his feet, he turned to see the trailer truck up in flames. A hole had burned perfectly through the ‘C’. It now read: M A CARGO. A subsequent explosion sounded and a pulse of wind carried smoke. Silas fitted his respirator to his face and ran across the street for the stairs.
	The younger guard was already halfway down the stairs. They wound in a series of switchback turns leading down to the water’s edge. There a speedboat idled. Silas barreled down the concrete steps as the guard made it to the boat. Cramorant settled in the backseat struggling to keep the wriggling Volbeat restrained. He wouldn’t make it in time. The guard reached for the throttle.
	“Thunder wave, Wheaton. Thunder wave!”
	The Volbeat’s tail lit up and sparks flew in between his antennae. The sting of a shock jolted the Cramorants body frozen for just a moment. Wheaton buzzed free of the Cramorant’s beak and floated upward towards Silas.
	The guard protested, “Cramorant, f-fury attack!”
	In a flurry of blue feathers, Cramorant’s beak tore into Volbeat and he sailed backward. The Gulp Pokemon kept coming and drilled into Silas’s side. Beak met bone and warm blood seeped into his clothes.
	“Wheaton, U-turn, let’s go,” ordered Silas, holding his ribs.
	The firefly Pokemon rammed into the Cramorant, sending it downward crashing into the concrete. Through a flourish of wings, Wheaton flew in an arch back to Silas.
	“This isn’t over.” The young guard threw a Pokeball into the air. In a strobe of light, a hulking purple Pokemon took form on all fours on the landing next to the boat. “Skuntank, p-poison gas!”
	Splaying the hairs on its forward facing tail, the Skuntank unleashed a stream of poison gas that engulfed Silas and Wheaton. The smell was overpowering even for his respirator, but he managed to find a bit of air in between the funk and rot.
	Silas’s eyes burned from the gas. He positioned his Volbeat in front of him. “Wheaton, Flash!”
	A blinding light erupted from Volbeat’s tail pointed directly at Skuntank and the guard. Shielding their eyes with their hands, the young guard and Stunktank tried to steady their vision back to the dark of night.
	In the moment, Silas popped the SIM card out of his Pokenav and tossed it down. It landed right at the feet of the young guard. He wanted rid of the thing. It didn’t matter if he had his personal contacts on there. Phone numbers weren’t that hard to commit to memory. Who was Alex going to message? Ayumu? Bibi? And why would he? They could just block him. On the other hand, his conversations with Team Aqua and their awfully simple oil rig heist plans would be brought to light. Whatever. It wasn’t his plan to begin with.
	Snagging Wheaton out of the air, Silas tore up the rest of the stairs. The gate arms were finally lifting, and the Driftveil City Drawbridge lowered. He ran as fast as his feet would carry him. The flames of the truck danced behind him.