Ash Ketchum: Rise of Galactic

Ch. 35 The Compound

"He understands a little bit of English," Clemont said.

"Can you help us get in?" I asked.

Raúl nodded.

"If you help us, we'll let you come back and free the others. Do you understand?"

He nodded again.

I looked at Serena, and she nodded. "Alright." I pulsed and melted through Raúl's ropes, which seemed to both intrigue and frighten him. Clemont gave him back his clothes and waited for him to dress. "Let's go," I said.

"Vámonos," Clemont said.

The four of us walked back over to the others. They were surprised to see the rancher with us. "Raúl knows the way, so he's going to drive the first truck. Calem, you follow us."

Calem looked at Raúl suspiciously. "You sure you can trust him?"

"Serena read his mind. She trusts him."

"Clemont," Calem said. "Translate this." He pointed at Raúl. "You betray us, I'll make sure you go down with us. Understand?"

Clemont translated. Raúl frowned.

Zeus added to the threat. "Tell him that he turns us in, I'll electrocute him first. Make sure he understands that."

Clemont nodded and translated that as well.

Raúl looked as indignant as he was afraid. "Los odio también," he said.

"He says he hate the Galactic too," Clemont said.

"We'll see," Calem said.

"Raúl will drive the first truck," I said to Calem. "You, Zeus, Brock, Shauna, and Korrina follow us. Stay close."

The warning lights on the electric fence still hadn't come on, so I checked it once more, then we all climbed through and walked to the trucks.

Raúl said something to Clemont, who seemed to be nodding his head in agreement.

"What did he say?" I asked.

"He said that we should bring back the bull. Otherwise it will look suspicious."

I looked over at the dead animal. "Good idea."

Raúl got in the truck and finished hoisting the bull into the truck bed.

The ranch was nearly five miles in diameter and was composed of hilly terrain. We drove for several minutes before we could even see the compound. The sight of it filled us all with dread.

We drove on, crossing diagonally, across the main road to avoid other cars and trucks.

As Raúl had explained, the compound was surrounded by two large fences with guard towers perched high on the corners, the silver barrels of their mounted machine guns glistening in the sun. The place reminded me of the pictures I'd seen in my history book of World War II German prison camps, though this place was clearly much more high-tech.

The compound's checkpoint was a hive of activity, with trucks, cars, and buses backed up for more than a hundred yards and dozens of guards, many with leashed dogs, checking the vehicles that awaited entry. The dogs were larger and muscular, and I wondered what breed they were.

"Rottweilers," Clemont said, as if reading my mind.

"What?"

"That's what type of dogs those are. Very powerful. I wonder if they're electric."