“Walt’s been categorising all the Pokémon we’ve found,” Jack says. The kid really wanted to contribute somehow, and it seemed like a reasonable task to assign to a ten-year-old. Plus it feels like even Sawyer might hesitate to yank the Pokéballs away from him and claim them as his own. “You want me to ask if yours have turned up?”
Locke shakes his head. “I didn’t have any Pokémon with me.”
Jack raises his eyebrows. “No?”
“This is an opportunity for all of us,” Locke says. “A chance to rely on ourselves, not just on Pokémon. If some of the passengers haven’t found their Pokémon yet, they get to find out if they can really survive alone.”
“Okay,” Jack says. “Honestly, I’m not sure everyone’s going to be thrilled about that.”
-
“You found your Flareon?” Jack asks.
“In a lake,” Kate says, stroking its fur. “There were a few other Pokéballs from the plane there. I’ve given them to Walt.”
“It’s beautiful.” He sits next to her. “How did you decide what to evolve your Eevee into?”
There are a lot of different choices. It probably seems an impossible decision to Jack; he hasn’t even evolved his Houndour. It’s just never been the right time, he said, when she asked about it.
But there was only one choice for her.
“It was my stepdad’s Eevee,” she says. She tries not to stumble or hesitate on stepdad, just about manages it. “It wasn’t really my decision.”
She couldn’t have taken the Eevee out of the house before she blew it up; it would have looked suspicious. So she’d bought a Fire Stone in disguise, with cash, and she’d evolved the Eevee into something that would be able to take the flames.
She wasn’t expecting it to follow her. But it’s stuck with her, a constant reminder that she killed its owner.
-
“So what are we digging for?” Boone asks.
“Shh,” Locke murmurs. “We’re nearly there.”
His hands hit something solid, and he clears the soil away from it. And there it is.
“What’s that?” Boone asks.
Locke sits back, hands on his knees. “That’s the shell.”
“The shell?” Boone asks, and then, “Wait, are you telling me this island is a Torterra?”
Locke knew it; he could feel it from the start. This island is a living thing.
And, if it’s alive, that means he can communicate with it.
no subject
Locke shakes his head. “I didn’t have any Pokémon with me.”
Jack raises his eyebrows. “No?”
“This is an opportunity for all of us,” Locke says. “A chance to rely on ourselves, not just on Pokémon. If some of the passengers haven’t found their Pokémon yet, they get to find out if they can really survive alone.”
“Okay,” Jack says. “Honestly, I’m not sure everyone’s going to be thrilled about that.”
“You found your Flareon?” Jack asks.
“In a lake,” Kate says, stroking its fur. “There were a few other Pokéballs from the plane there. I’ve given them to Walt.”
“It’s beautiful.” He sits next to her. “How did you decide what to evolve your Eevee into?”
There are a lot of different choices. It probably seems an impossible decision to Jack; he hasn’t even evolved his Houndour. It’s just never been the right time, he said, when she asked about it.
But there was only one choice for her.
“It was my stepdad’s Eevee,” she says. She tries not to stumble or hesitate on stepdad, just about manages it. “It wasn’t really my decision.”
She couldn’t have taken the Eevee out of the house before she blew it up; it would have looked suspicious. So she’d bought a Fire Stone in disguise, with cash, and she’d evolved the Eevee into something that would be able to take the flames.
She wasn’t expecting it to follow her. But it’s stuck with her, a constant reminder that she killed its owner.
“So what are we digging for?” Boone asks.
“Shh,” Locke murmurs. “We’re nearly there.”
His hands hit something solid, and he clears the soil away from it. And there it is.
“What’s that?” Boone asks.
Locke sits back, hands on his knees. “That’s the shell.”
“The shell?” Boone asks, and then, “Wait, are you telling me this island is a Torterra?”
Locke knew it; he could feel it from the start. This island is a living thing.
And, if it’s alive, that means he can communicate with it.