The Viterals

Chapter 4: Family Matters

Zakana woke up in a sweat, knowing that his shoulder and back needed immediate attention. They felt broken and shattered beyond recognition. He couldn't move. An intense heat burned him all over. There were way too many clothes dressing him, way too many blankets covering him for the current temperature in the room. Where was he anyway?

A shooting pain ripped through his shoulder, seared his flesh, and continued to cook him like a flopping Magikarp. Something had happened to his shoulder, but he couldn't remember what. As his eyes blinked open, everything came flashing into focus, coinciding with the high-pitched shrill somewhere nearby.

"There's no way he's staying here with me!" Kirish shouted, much louder than was probably necessary. For Kirish, speaking above the normal range was commonplace, and even more so if the things being said were bad things about Zakana. For him, being around Kirish always translated to an insurmountable feeling of doom and unrelenting migraines.

"What am I supposed to do with him? He has no idea what he's doing out there. Those Abomasnow would have killed him if I hadn't shown up. Plus, he shouldn't be moved with the way his shoulder is."

"This island isn't any safer!" Again, Kirish's voice rose above Yumin's. "Things are about to go down here, and its better to keep our family separated in case they find us." Kirish slammed something wooden onto a table on the other side of the wall, then said, "Besides, he's only dislocated his shoulder. He'll be fine in a day, maybe two."

"You expect me to wait around here for that? What about Bambi!"

For the first time since Zakana's mother slapped him across the face, Zakana again felt jarred. Judging by Yumin's feverish tone and his urgency, it meant that his younger sister was in trouble.

Zakana liked Bambi. No . . . he loved her. Of all his family members, he felt a certain attachment to his ten-year old cousin. Even though she adored Pokémon, Zakana and her always found a common ground. He imagined her cinnamon colored cheeks, auburn red braid, and rusty, torn stockings as she laughed about a news reporter losing his hat on television. Zakana jolted, turned his head to face the wall where the voices came from. All at once he realized that the Viterals weren't just tracking him, Kirish, their parents and Yumin and his parents. They were tracking the whole damn family . . . even Bambi.

Kirish's voice dropped an octave. She said, "What's happened to her?"

"I don't know. But I need to get to her. I haven't heard anything from my parents, and I know they're gonna go for Bambi next."

Zakana's stomach clenched up. He felt the urge to vomit, closed his eyes. With all the energy he could muster, he called out his sister's name.

The noise and commotion from the other room immediately died down, and through a door that Zakana could not see, Kirish came stomping into the room. She moved to Zakana's side, peered down at him.

"Hey Zakana. How are you feeling?" Zakana studied Kirish. She looked different, more weathered, strands of her light brown hair were now blonde from the sun or white from stress. Zakana couldn't tell which. For a brief moment, he thought there might be peace between them.

Yumin appeared next to her. His mousy hair sloped down at angles identical to those of his collar on his letterman jacket. He grinned, and his eyes shifted to Zakana's right shoulder.

"You okay, champ?"

Zakana swallowed, tasted his own dry, foggy mouth. "What happened to me? Why does it feel like I was drawn and quartered?"

"You dislocated your shoulder," Yumin said. "Those Abomasnow did a number on you. One of your disks was out of line, too."

Upon hearing the news about his disk, Zakana immediately wanted to sit up, jump into action. There was nothing more important than his back and his alignment when it came to his training. He needed to be in tip-top shape above all else. Now, he felt like his Slowpoke could beat him in a race.