Pokémon Fool's Gold | Orre & Galar Fanfiction

Chapter 31: Escape Day

The tangy odour of unidentified meat soup filled the prison's corridor. According to Amber's scratches, it should have been mashed potato, which was easier to throw. It was too late to communicate with Trip to postpone their escape. Mayson delivered soup to Amber and Bianka. Then Draven. Then the other tourists. Then Trip. Amber's heart hammered. She felt dizzy. Trip had been trapped in a cell for how long now? She didn't even know. Could he still throw so accurately? Especially sitting down...

Mayson turned. He began to walk. Come on, Trip! Maybe he'd decided to wait, but what if Draven or the tourists still tried? Bianka whispered.

'Maybe he's got too weak. It's understandable...'

Something tapped. Scraped. Was he on his crutches? Was that a good idea? Or was he just trying to signal to Draven? Maybe...

The toilet pipe flew. Amber held her breath. It sailed in a flawless line. Mayson yelped. The heavy steel clunked into his skull. Draven's pipe followed. He fell. His flailing limbs stilled. He was unconscious. Amber found herself smiling for the first time in what felt like years. As sharp as I noticed your Poké Ball throw was the first time I saw you battle. Oh, the irony... the irony that both she and Trip believed her affection was temporary, that she too wondered if she was gay, most recently because of the girl she shared her cell with; that she casually questioned whether they'd even stay in touch once the novelty faded. Yet now it was long gone and in its place was a warm, fuzzy and unfamiliar feeling that was as disconcerting as it was comforting, because it was so unplanned and uncontrollable.

I've gone and fallen in love with him, haven't I?

As impulsive as she'd become, she was simultaneously as cautious as ever, because she meticulously planned how her impulsiveness might unfold. She hoped to confirm she was gay, that whatever she felt for Trip was down to the thrill of fulfilling a rough and wild Orrean fantasy she imagined in front of the TV, years before it was inconveniently endangered by the realistation she wasn't straight. At first, when she felt nothing kissing him, she thought it was all going to plan... but something changed. Since then, her plans were foiled at every turn.

This wasn't the time for that. She had to think on her feet, not rely on plans that worked in her head but crumbled in reality. The elderly tourist, Quinn, reached for Mayson's keys. She unlocked her own cell and made her way down the corridor. Her husband, a local isolated in a separate cell after he attacked Znider, rushed to embrace her.

'Later, Cyle. These kids need to get out, now.'

Stepping out of the cell was unexpectedly emotional. Freedom so close, yet so far away... Amber yanked the Ultra Ball off Mayson's belt.

'I feel a bit bad, but maybe don't join Cipher next time, mate.'

Draven stripped him of his uniform. It fit him perfectly. He locked the unconscious body in his cell.

'Amber!'

Trip's voice was hoarse. 'Get the uniforms and go!'

Amber jogged to the cloakroom. There were more Poké Balls in Mayson's bag... but only two uniforms in lockers.

'You take them,' Quinn insisted, ignoring Cyle's protests, 'You have your whole lives ahead of you.'

Bianka and Amber hurriedly pulled the baggy uniforms over their dirty clothes. Amber was almost afraid to look at Trip. How badly had he hurt himself to write that note?

Well, that's what this adventure is about. Facing the things that scare me.

She tentatively approached. He still wore a hospital gown. The wound was actually bandaged. He was the only prisoner who didn't stink, because he was allowed to wash when the doctor wheeled him off to the lab's hospital. His eyes were exasperated.