Chapter Eight: A Flock Of Wolves
Bill's Cubone skin bristled, and he dropped the washcloth he was holding straight into the basin of bathwater. "HIM?" he finally said, his eyes never leaving the Abra's partner. "You brought HIM into...? He's a Gatekeeper! He works for Lt. Surge!"
"No," the Abra said quietly but forcefully. "He works for everyone. Bill, this is Piku. Piku, Bi--"
"We've met," the Raichu interrupted, noticing Bill's look of alarm. "I don't know what the rest of the Gatekeepers have done to you, Bill, but I'm willing to bet it has to do with three-quarters of this blasted organization being a flock of Midnight Lycanroc. I'm not sure how it happened, but somehow the very same organization meant to keep the nasties out of our little corner of paradise only succeeded in keeping them in it."
Bill crossed his arms and looked down his nose at Surge's Raichu. "As Watson said on laundry day: no sheet, Sherlock. Aren't you the founder of the Gatekeepers? How di