by Alex Polan
This book is not authorized or sponsored by The Pokémon Company International, Nintendo of America, Inc., Nintendo/Creatures Inc., or any other person or entity owning or controlling rights in the Pokémon 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 either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.
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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 Matt Armstrong
Cover design by Sarah Brody
Print ISBN: 978-1-5107-0378-0
Ebook ISBN: 978-1-5107-0379-7
Printed in Canada
CHAPTER ONE
“Pika, Pika,” chirped Pikachu from his place on Marco’s shoulder.
“I know,” said Marco, wading through the tall grass. “We should have found a secret base by now.”
He shaded his eyes and spun in a circle to search the trees beyond the clearing. “We have to capture a flag. We can’t let Team Treecko down.”
“Pi-ka,” agreed Pikachu.
Suddenly, a low growl sounded from the woods. Marco dropped to his knees.
“Did you hear that?” he whispered.
“Pik-a-CHU!” said his Pokémon friend. Pikachu was always ready for a battle.
Marco’s legs shook as he stood to meet their opponent. A wild Mightyena stepped out of the woods with drool dripping from his sharp fangs. As his red eyes locked on to Pikachu, he flattened his silver-gray back and growled.
Marco fought the urge to turn and run. Pikachu needed him. He needed a command from his Trainer.
“Pikachu, do a Tail Whip!” said Marco, his voice cracking.
Pikachu leaped at the Mightyena, smacking him off his feet with his lightning-bolt tail.
But the Mightyena sprang up and lunged at Pikachu. Its sharp teeth clamped down on the Pokémon’s tail.
Pikachu cried out and tried to wrestle free.
“Thunder Shock!” called Marco. “Do Thunder Shock!”
Before Pikachu could attack, they heard another high-pitched howl. Then more Mightyena—many more—stepped out from the trees.
Five, six, seven … Marco tried to count them all. “Pikachu, retreat!” he called. His friend was at his feet in an instant. They turned and ran.
Marco heard the snapping and growling of the Mightyena on his heels. He felt their hot breath. Suddenly, something grabbed his leg and yanked him backward, pulling him down, down, down… .
“Yeow!” screamed Marco, shaking free—from Logan’s grip. He tumbled off the bed and fell with a thump onto the cabin floor.
“Whoa, sorry!” said Logan, peering over the edge of the bed. “I was trying to wake you up.” He was already dressed, but his sandy brown hair was still messy from sleep. “What were you dreaming about?”
Marco rubbed his eyes. “We were playing capture the flag, but I couldn’t find a single crummy flag.” He didn’t tell Logan about the Mightyena. Not just yet. His heart was still pounding from that part of the dream.
Logan laughed. “That’s crazy talk,” he said. “Team Treecko is going to capture a bunch of flags today—I already know it.” He jumped up and ran a victory lap around the tiny cabin. “And, in first place, after capturing a gazillion and one flags, Team Treecko!” he shouted, pumping his fists in the air.
Marco shook his head. Even early in the morning, Logan had more energy than anyone he knew. And he was crazy about Pokémon just like Marco. That’s how they both ended up at Camp Pikachu, a summer camp where kids got to act out Pokémon adventures. It was only week two, but Marco felt as if he’d known Logan forever.
“We don’t have to capture every flag,” he reminded Logan. “We just have to get more than Team Fennekin.”
Logan grimaced at the mention of the team that had beaten them in last week’s challenge. Then he started jogging around the room again. “Let’s hear it for Team Treecko, who clobbered Team Fennekin to get into this year’s Camp Hall of Fame!”
Marco could see it already—his team winning the Poké Ball statue and getting their picture displayed in the glass case for future campers to see. But they would have to start winning competitions, beginning with capture the flag. And what if they couldn’t find any flags?
His dream had felt so real. As Marco changed into his shorts and Team Treecko T-shirt, he checked his leg for bite marks. “I didn’t find any flags in my dream,” he said, “but a whole pack of Mightyena found me.”
“Awesome!” said Logan, flopping back down on his bed. “Did you battle them?”
Marco shrugged. He knew Logan would have battled the Mightyena—and probably won. Logan was a year younger than Marco, but he wasn’t afraid of anything.
“Pikachu and I tried, but … I mean, we were kind of outnumbered,” said Marco, shivering at the memory. “I wish you’d been there. Which Pokémon would you have used?”
Logan climbed onto all fours. “I would have battled them myself,” he said, pretending to wrestle an imaginary Mightyena. “Pokémon have way more fun than Trainers do.”
Marco laughed. “If you were a Pokémon, I know what type you’d be. You’d definitely be a Grass one—like Treecko.” Logan’s knees were usually grass-stained. Plus, he climbed trees as well as their team mascot, a wood-gecko Pokémon.
“Treecko, Treecko, Treecko, Tree!” joked Logan in his best gecko voice. “What type would you be?”
Marco ran a hand over his dark, cropped hair. “I don’t know,” he said. Before he could answer, he heard a quick rap on the cabin door.
“The girls are here!” said Logan, jumping up.
Maddy stood on the step with a tray of Poké Puffs, which, at Camp Pikachu, was a fancy name for cupcakes. The tray looked way too heavy for such a small girl. Marco still couldn’t believe Maddy was old enough to be at Camp Pikachu. She looked like she was only five or six, but she was actually seven. Seven-and-a-half, Marco corrected himself. At least that’s what Maddy kept telling him.
Maddy blew her dirty-blonde bangs off her forehead and asked, “Who wants a Poké Puff? They’re fresh from Professor Sycamore’s lab.”
Nisha stepped up beside her. “It’s not a lab, Maddy,” she said. “It’s a kitchen.” Nisha was a couple years older than Maddy and was already acting like a big sister.
Maddy furrowed her brow. “Professor Sycamore wears a white coat, and we mix things together like scientists. It is too a lab.”
“Whatever,” said Marco. “Who cares where they came from? Yum.” He reached for a pink-frosted Poké Puff.
“Wait,” said Maddy, pulling back the tray so it was out of his reach. “Logan, do you want to pick one first?” she asked sweetly.
Logan flushed a thousand shades of red. “Um, no thanks.” He took
a step backward.
Marco tried not to laugh. It was only the second week of camp, but Maddy already had a huge crush on Logan. And the sweeter she was to him, the saltier he was toward her. Logan was eyeing the cupcakes like they were mud cakes—worms and all.
Marco reached again for a Poké Puff, and this time Maddy let him have one. If Maddy were a Pokémon, she’d be a Fairy-type, he thought, taking his first bite. Her favorite Pokémon was Swirlix, the Fairy-type who looked like cotton candy. Maddy had a huge sweet tooth, and she always shared her treats.
As Nisha reached for a Poké Puff, Marco noticed the Band-Aid on her finger. “How did you hurt yourself?” he asked, pointing toward her hand.
“She’s been biting her nails,” Maddy reported.
Almost everything about Nisha was sharp and tidy. Her hair was smoothed back into a sleek, dark ponytail. Her lime-green Team Treecko T-shirt was tucked neatly into her shorts. But her fingernails? They were usually chewed to ragged little stubs.
Nisha shrugged. “Biting my nails helps me think. And I’ve been thinking a lot, trying to come up with good gear for our game today.”
“Clemontic Gear?” asked Logan. “Like in the Pokémon cartoons?”
Marco laughed. In the cartoons, Ash’s friend Clemont was really smart, but his inventions were always breaking down or blowing up.
“Better than Clemontic Gear,” said Nisha. “Clemont’s inventions don’t usually work. Mine will.”
“Does that mean you came up with a good idea?” asked Maddy, wiping frosting off her chin.
Nisha nodded, her eyes flashing.
“Well, where is it?” asked Logan. He looked her up and down as if she were hiding the gear in her pockets.
“Shh,” whispered Nisha, glancing at the cabin behind her. “It’s at our secret base. C’mon, I’ll show you.”
Maddy started to follow, but the tray of Poké Puffs wobbled in her hands. “Wait!” she said. “This is too heavy. I need something to put these in.”
Marco searched the cabin, his eyes landing on a shoebox on his desk. “You can use this,” he said. “It had cookies in it from home.” They sure didn’t last long, he thought, shaking the crumbs out of the bottom.
Maddy started to carry the tray into the cabin, but Logan held up a hand. “No girls allowed in boys’ cabins.” No boys were allowed in girls’ cabins, either. Those were Camp Pikachu’s rules, not Logan’s. But Marco noticed that Logan was pretty quick to enforce them, especially where Maddy was concerned.
“I’ll take them,” Marco said, reaching for the tray.
After he had tucked the last cupcake into the box, Nisha led Team Treecko toward the woods. They walked past the other boys’ cabins, which were clustered around the counselors’ cabin, and then past the Dining Hall. As Nisha turned around to check on her friends, she nibbled nervously on a nail.
“Hey, maybe you could invent a way to stop chewing your fingernails,” suggested Logan.
Everyone laughed—except Nisha. She had her game face on.
She’s already thinking about ways to win capture the flag, thought Marco. He wished he had a big idea of his own. How could he make sure to capture a flag or two? His mind went blank. No ideas here. Zip. Zero. Nada.
As the group stepped onto the wooded trail, tall grass brushed against Marco’s leg. He suddenly remembered his nightmare and whirled around to search the bushes for Mightyena.
Don’t be a scaredy cat! he scolded himself. That was just a dream. There weren’t any Mightyena in these woods. But the other part of the dream? That part could still come true. He might not capture any flags today.
Again, Marco wondered, Am I going to let my new friends down?
His stomach twisted as he followed them toward the secret base.
CHAPTER TWO
It’s just like Fortree City, thought Marco as he followed Logan up the ladder to the tree house. The smooth boards were chocolate brown like the tree houses in the Pokémon videogame. And the short ladder led to a deck with a railing wrapped all the way around.
Marco ducked his head to follow Logan through the door to their secret base.
“Hey, the counselors delivered our water balloons!” Logan shouted, hurrying over to a tub of brightly colored balloons. Every team was supposed to get some to defend its base during capture the flag.
“Our flag’s here, too,” said Marco, pointing toward the lime-green banner in the corner. He carefully unrolled it to reveal Treecko, the gecko-like Pokémon, in a fighting pose.
“Should we hang it outside?” asked Logan eagerly.
“No, not yet,” said Nisha as she stepped into the tree house. “We’re supposed to wait till the game starts.”
Logan’s shoulders sank. He flopped down onto one of the Poké Ball cushions. Then he sat straight up again as if he’d remembered something important. “Where’s your invention, Nisha?”
“Don’t show it yet! Wait for me,” called Maddy, out of breath as she hurried into the tree house clutching her cupcake box. She was the only member of Team Treecko who didn’t have to duck.
When everyone was sitting down, Nisha reached behind the blackboard, which was propped up against the wall. She proudly pulled out a dirty orange life vest.
“Ta-da!” she said.
Maddy cocked her head like a curious puppy, but Logan looked disappointed. He sank back down onto his cushion.
Marco tried to be nice. “That’s, um, really, um … wow.”
“Wait for it …” said Nisha. Then she did something amazing. She reached into the life vest and pulled out an orange water balloon. And then a red one. And then a blue one. “It’s a Balloon Vest!” she announced. The whole vest was filled with bright, squishy water balloons.
“Cool!” said Maddy. “But, wait, how did you make it? Did you cut that vest open?”
“No,” said Nisha. “I went to the boathouse and found some that were already torn. I took the foam out and put balloons in. You can’t see the balloons from the outside, can you?”
“No,” said Logan, “but other teams will sure be able to see us in bright orange vests.”
“He’s right,” said Marco. “They’ll spot us from a mile away.”
Nisha held up her hand like a stop sign. Then she reached behind the blackboard again. The next vest she pulled out was printed in camouflage colors: green, tan, and brown.
Logan’s eyes lit up. “Okay, yeah,” he said. “That one is cool.”
“Then you can wear this Balloon Vest,” said Nisha, smiling. “At least one of us will be hidden.”
“Are there more?” asked Maddy, jumping up to peek behind the blackboard. Suddenly, she shrieked and fell backward.
“What?” asked Nisha, nearly dropping her Balloon Vest. “What did you see?”
Maddy started to laugh. “A mouse. Just an itty-bitty brown mouse. He scared me, though.”
“Let me see!” said Logan.
Marco hung back, shivering a little. How many other mice are living in here? he wondered. He eyed the shadowy corners of the tree house.
But Maddy didn’t seem scared of the mouse anymore. In fact, she was worried about him. “Don’t hurt him, Logan!” she said. She got on her hands and knees and watched as Logan tilted the blackboard forward. Then she smiled.
“Come see, Marco,” said Logan, waving him over.
So, Marco tiptoed up behind Maddy and glanced over her shoulder. The mouse was standing on his hind legs, sniffing the air. He is pretty cute, Marco had to admit.
But as the mouse dropped to all fours and wobbled toward the wall, Marco noticed he was dragging one of his feet.
“Oh, he’s injured!” said Maddy. “No wonder he’s not running away.” Then she kicked into full Fairy-type mode. “Nisha, hand me that box,” she ordered.
Nisha wrinkled her nose. “You’re going to put him in the Poké Puff box? Eww.”
Maddy nodded like it was the most logical idea in the world.
“But … what are we going to do wi
th the Poké Puffs?” asked Nisha.
Maddy shrugged. “Eat them, I guess.”
No one argued. Soon, the little brown mouse was tucked into the box with a soft blanket—one of Maddy’s socks. She struggled to get her bare foot back into her shoe. Then she reached out her hand so the mouse could sniff her fingers. He nibbled at the end of her braided friendship bracelet.
“I’ll bet he’s hungry,” she said. “I’ll have to bring him some food. What do mice eat?”
“Wait, you’re keeping him here?” asked Marco. “Maybe he would be safer in your cabin.”
Nisha glanced up, alarmed. “Or … maybe you could bring him to the Health Center,” she said quickly. Nisha shared a cabin with Maddy, but she clearly wasn’t a big fan of mice.
“No, living out here is better,” said Logan. “He will feel like he’s still outside. He’ll be happier.” Glancing out the tree house window, Logan looked pretty content, too.
“Yes!” said Maddy. “Mr. Mouse will be happier out here.” She smiled up at Logan like he was her hero—or her Prince Charming.
Logan suddenly looked a lot less happy. He scooted his Poké Ball cushion an inch in the other direction.
When Maddy opened her mouth to say something, a sneeze came out instead.
“Uh-oh,” said Nisha. “Are you allergic to mice?”
Maddy wrinkled her forehead. “I don’t think so. I’m allergic to cats, though.”
That’s when they heard the low yeowl coming from the deck outside.
Marco and Logan locked eyes. “Meowth,” Marco muttered under his breath. Both boys jumped up and headed for the door.
The yellow tomcat was prowling the deck. He turned and stared at them through narrowed eyes. Then he let out another yeowl and flicked his crooked tail before disappearing around the corner.
“Meowth!” called a voice from below. “Here, kitty, kitty …”
Marco glanced at Logan and raised a finger to his lips. They had to be quiet, or they’d give away the location of their secret base.
When Marco flattened himself onto his belly and peeked over the edge of the deck, he instantly saw the fox-orange T-shirts.
Team Fennekin.
