Cracking the Magikarp Code

by Alex Polan

  This book is not authorized or sponsored by The Pokémon Company International, Nintendo of America, Inc., Nintendo/Creatures Inc., Niantic, Inc., or any other person or entity owning or controlling rights in the Pokémon or Pokémon GO characters, name, trademarks, or copyrights.

  Copyright © 2016 by Hollan Publishing, Inc.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without the express written consent of the publisher, except in the case of brief excerpts in critical reviews and articles. All inquiries should be addressed to Sky Pony Press, 307 West 36th Street, 11th Floor, New York, NY 10018.

  First Edition

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are from the author’s imagination, and used fictitiously.

  Sky Pony Press books may be purchased in bulk at special discounts for sales promotion, corporate gifts, fund-raising, or educational purposes. Special editions can also be created to specifications. For details, contact the Special Sales Department, Sky Pony Press, 307 West 36th Street, 11th Floor, New York, NY 10018 or info@skyhorsepublishing.com.

  Sky Pony® is a registered trademark of Skyhorse Publishing, Inc.®, a Delaware corporation.

  Visit our website at www.skyponypress.com.

  Books, authors, and more at SkyPonyPressBlog.com.

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available on file.

  Special thanks to Erin L. Falligant.

  Cover illustration by Jarrett Williams

  Cover colors by Jeremy Lawson

  Cover design by Brian Peterson

  Print ISBN: 978-1-5107-2205-7

  Ebook ISBN: 978-1-5107-2207-1

  Printed in Canada

  CHAPTER 1

  “Has anyone seen my open-house handouts?” Mom’s voice rang out from down the hall. Ethan said nothing. He was staring at the handouts—or what used to be the handouts. Now they were just a pile of shredded paper beneath the dining room table. And Mystic, Ethan’s new Chow Chow puppy, sat beside the heap, looking pretty proud of her mess.

  “Uh-oh, what did Miss Misty do this time?” asked his younger sister Devin as she stepped into the dining room.

  “Don’t call her that,” Ethan snapped for what felt like the hundredth time. “Her name is Mystic, like Team Mystic—our Pokémon GO team. That’s what we said we would call her, remember?” He reached down to pick up the puppy, but she shimmied out of his grasp and waddled over to Devin instead, like she’d been doing all morning.

  “She’s too cute for just one name,” said Devin, scooping the furry puppy into her arms. “We could call her Cinnamon because her fur is so red. Or Eevee because she has a fluffy mane and bushy tail like that cute little Pokémon.”

  “No,” said Ethan, “Eevee’s ears are way too big. I think Mystic looks more like Growlithe. They both have little pointy ears that poke through the mane of fur at their neck. And they’re both orange—I mean, except for Growlithe’s stripes.”

  “Fine,” said Devin, kissing Mystic on the nose. “One of her nicknames can be ‘Growlithe,’ especially when she growls.” She gave the pup a stern look. “But don’t you go evolving into a full-grown Arcanine anytime soon!”

  They heard the clatter of plates in the kitchen, which meant Dad was about to call them in for breakfast.

  “C’mon, let’s clean this up, quick,” said Ethan, scooping up the shreds of paper.

  “Clean up what?” Dad poked his bald head through the swinging door. “Uh-oh. First, my shoes. Then the living room pillows. Now this. Has your mother seen it yet?”

  Ethan shook his head.

  “Bad girl,” said Dad, waving a plastic spatula at Mystic. But she paid him about as much attention as she paid Ethan. She wagged her tail and chewed up another piece of paper right by Dad’s foot.

  When they heard the sound of Mom’s heels on the kitchen floor, everyone froze.

  “Misty, get that paper out of your mouth!” Devin whispered, tugging on the paper scrap.

  But Mystic thought Devin wanted to play tug-of-war. As Mom stepped into the room, the puppy had just ripped the paper out of Devin’s fingers and was growling, shaking its prize in the air.

  “Oh, no,” said Mom, her jaw dropping. “No, no, no! The open house starts in half an hour!”

  “I can help you print more flyers,” Ethan offered. But he knew it would take longer than half an hour to replace what Mystic had chewed up in less than a minute.

  “We were just coming up with nicknames for her,” said Devin in a bright voice. “What do you think of Growlithe?” She was pretty good at changing the subject whenever Mystic—or anyone else—got in trouble.

  Mom sighed and squatted down to gather the shredded flyers. “I think we should call her Chew Chew, because she’s a very naughty little Chow Chow.”

  Mystic whined and rolled on her back beside Mom.

  “Wow, she really listens to you,” said Ethan. “How come she ignores me?”

  Mom shrugged. “Give her time. She’ll come around, as long as you’re firm with her—and do not let her chew on anything except her toys.”

  She pulled a tiny tennis ball out of a basket on the floor and rolled it to Mystic, who bounded up to it and grabbed it. It stuck out of the front of her mouth like a tiny yellow pacifier.

  “Should we take her to the dog park?” asked Dad. “It’s right next to the lake!” He was off work this last week of summer, which meant fishing at the lake—one of Dad’s favorite things. He was grinning like a little kid just talking about it.

  Mom hesitated. “Can you keep Mystic on the leash and out of the lake?” she asked, looking from Dad to Ethan to Devin and back again.

  “Yes!” said Ethan. He was pretty excited about the lake, too. He’d heard it was crawling with Water-type Pokémon.

  “It’s going to be up to you two to keep an eye on the puppy,” said Mom. “Because your dad is trying to catch the big one this year.” She winked at Dad.

  “I’m not trying,” he argued. “I’m going to. This is the year!” He waved his spatula in the air to accentuate the point.

  Ethan laughed. Every year, Dad claimed he was going to catch the big one—the four-foot-long Northern Pike that he’d seen one summer on the end of his line, and then lost. And every year, he came home with a gazillion pan fish instead. Mom would fry them up, and they’d enjoy a dinner of crispy little fish while Dad talked about the one that got away.

  Fishing week was tradition—the official end to summer. And this year, Ethan hoped he’d catch the big one, too—a Kingler or Tentacool or Gyarados. Something new and different. Something powerful.

  “We’ll keep an eye on Mystic,” he promised his mom. “And we’ll make sure Dad wears sunscreen, too.”

  Mom grinned. “Thank you, Ethan. Your sister, too. We have to protect the redheads in this family.”

  Devin laughed and gave Mystic a hug. “That includes you, Cinnamon. You take after Dad, just like I do.”

  Ethan cringed. Enough with the nicknames! he wanted to say. But he let it go this time. There was too much to do before heading off to the lake. First thing to do? Charge my phone! he thought as he raced to his room.

  He wasn’t going to catch the big one with a dead battery!

  “PokéStop!” announced Devin as they tumbled out of Dad’s car after Mystic.

  The informational sign at the edge of the parking lot showed a huge map of the lake. And as Ethan spun the photo of the map on his phone, he collected two Poké Balls and some Potion.

  But as soon as they past the map, they ran into another sign: NO DOGS ALLOWED ON THE BEACH OR IN THE PICNIC AREA.

  “Wow, there are sure a lot of rules about
dogs,” said Ethan, gesturing toward the sign. “There are more places we can’t go than places we can!”

  Dad barely noticed that Ethan and Devin had stopped. He was walking ahead toward the beach, whistling and swinging his tackle box. Mystic strained at her leash, trying to follow.

  “Dad, we can’t go that way!” called Ethan, gently guiding the pup back. “We’ll take Mystic to the dog park and then meet you at the lake—the non-beach part, at least.”

  “What, huh?” asked Dad, nearly losing his hat as he spun around. “Okay, sure. We’ll see you soon.”

  Devin shook her head. “He’s already dreaming about the big one,” she said, laughing. “I sure hope he gets it this year.”

  “Yeah,” said Ethan, “but if he does, I’m going to miss those crispy little pan fish.”

  He drooled just thinking about them as he followed the fork in the trail toward the dog park. There were even more signs there about cleaning up after your dogs and keeping them on leashes when they weren’t in the water.

  And there were plenty of dogs, too. Mystic stopped to greet a Dachshund, which was long and low to the ground. She sniffed the backside of a Basset Hound. And she growled at a Greyhound that was three times her size.

  “What a cute Chow!” said the Greyhound’s owner, a woman with her hair in a messy bun. But when her son reached out to pet Mystic, the puppy shrank back against Devin’s legs.

  “She’s not so sure about strangers,” Ethan tried to explain. What he really wanted to say was, She’s not so sure about boys. But he was still hoping Mom was wrong about that.

  As Mystic led them away from the little boy, Ethan noticed the dogs' swimming area. A long dock stretched out into the lake, and beside it, two Labrador retrievers—one yellow and one chocolate colored—paddled toward shore. The Chocolate Lab had a tennis ball in its mouth.

  Mystic honed right in on that tennis ball. She gave a squeaky little bark and then promptly bolted. The leash slid from his hand, and Mystic took off running—straight toward the lake.

  CHAPTER 2

  “Mystic, stop!”

  Ethan raced after the dog. He was relieved when she stopped just short of the water lapping against the muddy shore. But as the Chocolate Lab with the tennis ball loped out of the water, Mystic went straight for his ball.

  Growling and crouching, she yapped at the dog. He turned in annoyed circles, trying to avoid her. Finally, he growled back and lunged at Mystic.

  “No!” cried Devin. “He’s going to hurt her!”

  “No he won’t.” A kid with a blonde buzz cut and bright orange swim trunks jumped up from his beach towel and ran over. “He won’t hurt her,” he said again, sounding just as annoyed as his dog. “He just doesn’t want to share his ball.”

  He clipped a leash to the Lab’s collar and led him toward the towel. Mystic started to follow, until Devin called out, “Misty, stop!”

  This time, the puppy listened. She trotted toward Devin as if to say, “Hey! Long time no see, buddy.”

  Then the other Lab—the yellow one—waded out of the lake. Ethan could see what was coming from a mile away, but he couldn’t move!

  Sure enough, the dog braced her body and then shook it, sending off a great muddy spray.

  Ethan took most of it in the face. “Ew.”

  “Sorry!” called a teenage girl who had been sitting on the pier. “Bad girl, Sandy.” She pulled her long, brown hair into a ponytail and then grabbed the towel that was draped over the post of the pier. She offered it to Ethan. “Here, use this before I dry her off.”

  “A towel would have been a good idea,” said Devin, lifting up Mystic’s muddy paws one by one. “Mom’s not going to be happy.”

  “A tennis ball would have been a good idea, too,” said Ethan as he handed the towel back to the girl. “We should have brought Mystic’s—our dog’s—ball so that she wouldn’t try to steal someone else’s! Sorry about that.”

  “No problem,” said the girl. She smiled and then squatted and began drying off her dog.

  Ethan and Devin led Mystic away from the pier and back up the trail. Then they hurried past the beach and picnic area. Families were already cooking hot dogs, which made Mystic’s nose go crazy. She tugged at her leash, but Devin held her back. “You’re not allowed there, sweetie,” she said. “Sorry.”

  As they neared the quieter end of the lake, Devin gave Mystic some slack in her leash—just enough so that she could run ahead a few feet.

  While Mystic followed her nose, rustling up birds, butterflies, and ducks from the grasses near the water, Ethan and Devin started rustling up Pokémon on their phones: Staryu, Venonat, Krabby, Poliwag, and even a giant, flopping Magikarp. They took turns, one holding Mystic’s leash and the other catching Pokémon.

  “It’s like Mystic can smell them or something,” said Devin. “Her nose works better than the Pokémon GO tracker. She’s leading us right to them!”

  Ethan knew that wasn’t possible, but it did seem like wherever Mystic found some bird or animal to hunt, they found Pokémon, too. Now, if only I could catch them, he thought as he flung a Poké Ball toward a Goldeen—and missed.

  “I need to work on my throws,” he told Devin. “I’m not going to get Great Balls until I hit Level Twelve, and at this rate, that’ll take forever.” It had taken him weeks just to reach Level Nine.

  “Gia could teach you how to throw better,” said Devin as she bent to unwind the leash from around Mystic’s leg.

  Ethan had already thought of asking their friend and teammate for some pointers. Gianna scored extra points for great and excellent throws all the time, and she was the only one of them who had mastered the curveball, too.

  “Hey, if we come back to the lake tomorrow, we should ask Dad if Gia and Carlo can come, too,” he said. Gianna’s older brother, Carlo, was a Level-Fifteen Trainer. With Gianna and Carlo’s help, Ethan would hit Level Ten before the week ended!

  “Let’s go ask him right now,” said Devin.

  They found Dad fishing near a willow tree that bent low over the water. Or was he sleeping? His hat had slid down over his eyes.

  As they got closer, Ethan saw that Dad’s eyes were open wide. He was studying his phone.

  “Hey, Dad, are you playing Pokémon GO?” Ethan called to him.

  “What? No,” said Dad, straightening up. “I’m fishing. I just thought I’d, you know, catch a Larry or two while I waited for some action on the line.”

  “Larry” was Dad’s pet name for Weedle and, for some reason, he caught an awful lot of them.

  Ethan grinned at Devin. Dad liked playing Pokémon GO as much as he and Devin did. But he’d never admit it—at least not in front of Mom.

  “Um, Dad?” said Devin.

  “Yeah?”

  “You might want to check your bobber.”

  Ethan looked, too, and saw it bobbing up and down like a Poké Ball with a Magikarp trapped inside.

  Dad grabbed his hat and jumped up. He yanked his pole up from the log he’d propped it against and started reeling. “Oh, it’s a big one,” he said. “I can feel it! Hold on, kids!”

  He braced his legs against the shore as if he were reeling in a Great White Shark. Mystic barked and growled as if she were going to take on that shark herself.

  Finally, the fish sprang from the water. But what was dangling from Dad’s line wasn’t exactly the big one.

  Ethan cleared his throat. “Hmm. I wonder why they call those little fish Bluegill when they’re actually kind of yellow?”

  When Dad didn’t respond, Devin added, “Well, I do like crispy little fish!”

  “Me, too,” boomed a voice behind them. A man with a shock of white hair tipped his fishing hat toward them as he passed. He held up a line of fish he’d caught, which had plenty of Bluegill hanging from it. But there were a few really big fish on there, too, Ethan noticed.

  “I’m going to go home now and leave a few in the lake for you.” The old man grinned and gave one last wave as he walk
ed toward the parking lot, his tackle box bouncing against his side.

  “Where’d he catch those big fish?” asked Ethan.

  “Probably at the bridge,” said Dad, pointing toward a wooden bridge that arched over the stream running into the lake. “Badfish Creek Bridge. I’d fish over there, too, if it weren’t always so crowded.”

  “Badfish?” asked Ethan. “Why would anyone want to fish in a creek with bad fish in it?”

  “I don’t know,” said Devin. “But the bridge is also a Pokémon gym. Look!” She held up her phone, which showed a towering, yellow Team Instinct gym.

  “Cool!” Ethan pulled out his own phone, being careful to keep a tight grip on Mystic’s leash. He chuckled when he saw the Pokémon spinning on top. “Magikarp? The Gym Leader there fights with a floppy Magikarp?”

  “Yeah—that’s even his Trainer name, see? MagikarpKid. And he’s the only Defender at the gym right now. Hey, we should try to take it over!” said Devin. “We haven’t battled or trained our Pokémon at Dottie’s in ages.”

  It was true. Ethan could barely remember the last time he, Devin, Carlo, and Gianna had met at Dottie’s Doughnuts, their favorite Team Mystic gym. They hadn’t battled at any gym, not even the one they’d taken over at the library last month.

  “Not since we got Mystic,” he said, bending over to scratch the Chow’s furry head. “We’ve been kind of busy since then.”

  “Let’s do it,” said Devin. “Dad can watch Mystic while we battle.”

  Dad held out his hand for the leash. “I might as well puppy-sit,” he said. “Since the fishing thing isn’t exactly panning out.” Then he cracked up, as if he’d just told the world’s funniest joke.

  “Get it?” said Dad. “Pan fish?”

  Ethan just shook his head. He’d learned a long time ago not to encourage Dad’s bad jokes. They only got worse when he did.

  He made sure Mystic’s leash was wrapped snugly around Dad’s wrist. Then he followed Devin past the boat launch toward the bridge. They sat on a large flat rock by the water. Then he tapped on the gym on his phone screen and selected his Pokémon for battle.