Pokémon Mystery Dungeon: Quenched Torch

Chapter 60: Buried in the Sand

Crash. Samuel just groaned at his desk— the kids at the sandlot had just sent another home run through his window. Just great. They sounded like they were having fun, at least.

He leaned back and ran a hand down his face, trying to listen for signals or a reply from his friend through all the sounds going on through his headphones. The kids were celebrating knocking out his window specifically, because of course they were. Someone had a Spongebob rerun on full volume for public viewing somewhere outside— it was always a wonder to Samuel that that show specifically had weathered the apocalypse like it apparently had. The neighbor was apparently doing his own carpentry work in his house. Someone was selling fruits on their weird modded bike. And... someone was running up to the station-?

The door swung open as Wilsa ran in, somewhat panicked. "Sam! Sam, we've got a problem, big problem! There's a bunch of ferals at the east wall, a-and mom said they can't hold them back much longer, we gotta call for help!" she panted.

"Shit—" Samuel swore, hurriedly readjusting his headphones as his fellow telegrapher took the seat next to him.

All stations, calling distress. CQD, CQD, CQD, this is Striaton, he tapped out. SOS, SOS, SOS.

Samuel could hear that the news had gotten around outside. The church bells around town had begun to toll, and the old sirens had started to wail. The police were already yelling at people to take shelter. Leave the tools, leave the crops, just find shelter.

Fort Accumula to Striaton, what is the matter? came the response over the wire.

"...you can't be serious," Samuel gritted his teeth. He thought he had been specific...

It's an SOS. East wall under attack. Herd of ferals will be within city limits soon. Require immediate assistance.

OK. Will tell mayor.

A boom sounded in the distance, the people outside screaming. Shit. They couldn't get help any sooner...

Pechatree to Striaton, are you aware that Undella has a batch of messages for you?

Samuel just faceplanted into his desk. "Oh fucking Keldeo, you idiots..."

...all stations, this is Nieuw-Castelia. Striaton calling SOS. Wall down, attack occurring. Says requires assistance. Gives position, the telegraph abruptly buzzed.

"What—" Samuel started.

"I got em!" Wilsa nodded. "Keep it up!"

Samuel's eye twitched a bit, though he kept going anyway. The sound of blasts, crumbling stone, and fleeing people only grew louder and closer.

CQD, CQD, this is Striaton. Under attack. Ferals in city, likely experiencing casualties. Come at once, he frantically slammed out as howls began to sound outside. SOS, SOS. CQD Striaton; CQD, this is—

The door exploded. "Hit the deck!" Samuel yelled and tackled Wilsa, dragging her under the table. He had only enough time to hug his legs before the feral Manectric that had barged in howled and shot a Thunderbolt at the equipment. Samuel couldn't see what was happening, but the sparks raining down from above the table and the potent burning smell said enough. The wireless must have been annoying the Electric-type or something...

He made eye contact with Wilsa as her breath trembled— the girl's chest had been right in the path of that Thunderbolt. She'd gotten a nasty bruise from the fall and some burns from the sparks, but she was alive, at least. Looking at the dog still growling and looking for any remaining wireless, she just tapped out Morse code onto the floor.