The Leaper's padded feet clacked noisily against Spargus' worn cobblestones. The obsidian claws, worn by a lifetime of running and racing, clicked nervously as it came to a stop. Before them was the entrance to Kleiver's garage. A high, nervous gurgle rolled up from the bipedal lizard's bottomless gullet as Jak dismounted.

Jak patted his faithful mount's scaly nose reassuringly. "There, there, K. It's alright. I won't be gone long." The female leaper, characterized by the deep shade of blue, as opposed to the lighter green males, gurgled peacefully, blinking its great, black eyes.

With a final pat Jak turned from his mount to the shining metal doors, already opening at his approach. Daxter groaned as they walked through the circular entrance way. Kleiver was already waiting for them, his polished scepter clutched in his sausage-like fingers.

Kleiver had contacted Jak about half an hour after the race. The fat elf had said he had a little "job" that they might be interested in. Now, by the look on his face, Jak was convinced that he had concocted something that would seal the blonde elf's fate.

Too late to back out now, Jak thought hesitantly.

As they approached their overweight benefactor, Kleiver's bulging eyes rolled up from his prized scepter, narrowing as Jak approached. His colorless lips drew back over his yellowing teeth into an oddly jolly grin. "You boys looking for a bit of action?" he crooned, turning his scepter absent-mindedly in his hand. "The scope shows a group of Metal Heads moving through the desert not too far from here." At the mentioning of Metal Heads Jak felt his furry companion stiffen on his armored shoulder.

Kleiver's unusually jolly expression disappeared, replaced by his usual murderous scowl. The fat elf lunged forward menacingly, forcing Jak back a couple feet. "I don't like Metal Heads," he growled, "almost as much as I don't like you!" Kleiver thrust his pointed scepter forward, just missing Jak's head by an inch. "And," he added, thrusting his fat finger into Jak's chest, "you've got some proving to do! Intercept those bad boys and give 'em hell. Who knows, maybe you'll just get a few toys for your effort."

Daxter slowly leaned forward, pressing Kleiver for details without getting too close to the dangerously sharp scepter. "Why does it sound like you're leaving out all the dangerous stuff?" Daxter's tiny pupils shifted to his friend, "Jak," he said, his voice straining, "I'm getting some nasty juju vibes here. I ain't got these whiskers for nothin' ya know!"

"Relax," Jak said, rolling his eyes, "we can handle a few Metal Heads."

Kleiver's face drew back, his eyes once again turning to his gleaming scepter. "You ever seen a Wasteland Metal Head?" he asked the two friends, his milky eyes glittering.

Daxter's brows rose suspiciously. "No…why?"

Kleiver shrugged, placing his scepter at his feet. "Nothing, just wondering."

Satisfied, Jak began toward one of the dune buggies in the garage's corner. Daxter was still looking back at Kleiver suspiciously, his oversized eyes reduced to mere slits. Yet even as the two began toward the buggy, they heard Kleiver's cocky, sarcastic voice hiss "Go get 'em, heroes."

Five minutes later…

The familiar wave of hot wind rolled through Jak's hair, tormenting his exposed skin with its dry heat and the miniature missiles that were the sand particles caught in its firm grasp. The wind was much less severe than Jak's last outing into the Wasteland in which he had nearly been swallowed by a monstrous storm, but it was bothersome nonetheless to be caught in a whirling vortex of intense heat.

The buggy's powerful engine hummed noisily as it roared across the shifting dunes. For some odd reason, Kleiver had actually given Jak permission to ride in one of the better vehicles; the ones he had said were for the "big boys." Though scarcely larger than the Tough Puppy, this new buggy was better by all possible means. The steel frame was polished and carefully crafted. The powerful engine was covered by a thick cover of tough metal spray-painted a bright shade of yellow. The tires were obviously changed frequently, seeing as how the thick treads on them were nearly in mint condition.

The seats were comfortable and cushioned, dark gray in color. The dash board was not much different from that of the Tough Puppy. Decorated with numerous switches and buttons of red and silver, each with a printed label screwed into the dash. The majority of the dash, as with the other buggy, was taken up by a large TV screen. Unlike the other buggy, however, this one was clean and solid; completely free of fingerprints or cracks. At the moment Jak was looking at that very screen, scanning the colorful map layout on it.

The three Metal Heads, represented by large; red blips, were moving surprisingly fast, apparently scouring the dunes for any Precursor artifacts they could get their grimy hands on.

"How much farther Jak?" Daxter whimpered, wiping a bit of sand from his sensitive nose. "I wanna get this over with!"

"Not much farther," said Jak, tapping the screen, "according to this they should be just over this dune."

Daxter's mood visibly brightened. "Alright!" he hooted, slapping his gloved paws together in anticipation.

As they approached the edge of the dune Jak slowed their vehicle. He wanted the element of surprise with these Metal Heads. Something about Kleiver's tone had disturbed him. If there was something different about these Metal Heads, he didn't want to go rushing in.

As the buggy reached the top of the dune, Jak's fears were confirmed. Badly. Jak gasped, his hand tightening on the wheel, sweat pouring down his forehead. Daxter could only stare, his strong jaw hanging limp at its hinges.

Before them, in the distance, were three gigantic Metal Heads, no, Metal Monsters stampeding around the desert's ever-moving dunes. Even from their distance, a good fifty meters, Jak and Daxter could feel the massive footfalls of these monsters as their dinosaur-like feet slammed down on the desert's harsh sands.

The creatures were bipedal, almost resembling gigantic, vicious Leapers. They were dark green in color and covered in thick scales from their heads to their tales. Atop their backs were massive, shining turrets leaking with Dark Eco, swiveling about, perhaps searching for anyone or anything that would interrupt their hosts. Anything like, perhaps, a blonde elf in a dune buggy with a shivering weasel in the seat next to him. The only thing that made these monsters even reminiscent of Metal Heads were the massive Skull Gems set in their heads, the mark of a Metal Head.

Jak was shaken from his shock-induced daze by Daxter, tugging desperately at his had. "Hey Jak," he said, "come on, let's go. We can't take these things and you know it! Let's go when we're still alive!"

Jak shook his head. "No. We can take these guys. Besides, I want to know what they're doing. It almost looks like they're looking for something." Jak snuck a furtive glance up at the Day Star, shining brightly in the deep blue sky.

Without waiting for a response from Daxter, Jak immediately floored the gas peddle, abandoning the element of surprise for pure brute force. Clouds of dust and sand rose up from the buggy's heavy tires, spinning softly in the air before settling as if unchanged back onto the dunes. Jak immediately directed the buggy toward the closest monster, oblivious to Daxter's screams of protest. To him, the entire world was only himself, the buggy, and the three Metal Heads. About ten meters from the nearest one, a twenty foot tall brute, Jak opened up on it. As he tightened his grip on the triggers built in to the steering wheel, hundreds of small, piercing bullets streamed forth from the machine guns mounted on the buggy's front. Milliseconds later the beast reared back, setting loose a bloodcurdling roar that could be heard all the way back at Spargus.

Hundreds of needle-sharp projectiles plunged into the scaly flesh of the monster's legs, each creating a tiny dribble of purple blood which soaked into the drifting sand below. The creature, driven mad by rage and pain, began to charge at its assailant, ignoring the steady stream of bullets sinking into its torso and neck. Seconds before impact Jak made a hard left, nimbly dodging the thing's rage-induced assault.

The elf skillfully maneuvered the buggy into facing the halting monster without losing any momentum and continued the unmerciful assault.

The Metal Head's bloodshot eyes glowed with a strange light. All at once the massive turret strapped to its back jumped to life.

"Uh oh."

A large, pulsating ball of Dark Energy flew from the turret's singed mouth. The projectile missed the buggy by mere inches, but it caused the frame to tilt horribly, and Jak thought for one horrible second that they would tip. But, just as it seemed assured, the buggy regained control and landed smoothly on its thick, black tires, ready for action.

The creature roared even louder and charged again, this time slower. It seemed as though its wounds were beginning to take affect. Jak wasted no time exploiting this weakness. Another, fresh volley of bullets flew from his guns, smacking into every bit of the Metal Head that could be reached.

The creature lurched, tripping over its own massive feet. With a terrible roar of fear, it toppled, rolling down the side of the dune to the feet of one of the Wasteland mountains. It continued breathing for about ten seconds, then lurched once more, as if fighting for the life it in no way deserved, then slumped, its massive head digging into the shifting sand.

Satisfied, Jak floored the pedal once more, following the red blip to his next target. This one was close, very close. As they approached, the beast turned. It was a great deal smaller than its counterpart, perhaps by five feet. The battle took only minutes. The turret set on the creature's back had malfunctioned, and in the end the contents had leaked from it, searing into its unprotected back. In a way, the Metal Head had been killed by its own weapon.

The buggy was not sounding good at all. The engine, wracked by numerous collisions and hard turns, was beginning to slow and sputter. Jak only hoped against hope that it had enough life to take down their last target. And as the last of them came into view, Jak's hopes were increased tenfold.

This creature was standing in a clearing, its head held up high, gazing up at the windblown mountains before it. Where the other two had immediately charged at seeing the buggy approaching, this one simply stood there, its large, red eyes watching him, waiting for the attack. As Jak approached, he fully realized just how big this creature was. He dwarfed his companions easily, perhaps thirty feet high at is shoulder. One other thing that Jak noticed was that he carried no turret on his back, only a saddle-like structure with numerous pouches and bags thrown over it.

The dune buggy stopped about twenty meters from the Metal Head. This one was the leader, the most experienced of the group. This was obvious by its demeanor. And by the way that it only sat and watched, waiting for Jak to make the first move, it had some experience with combat as well.

For about a minute the two simply sat there, staring each other down, oblivious to the hot waves of sand and wind that tossed about them like micro-tornadoes. When the tension was unbearable, the thought of waiting too much to bear, the pair charged. The buggy's wheels spun against the sand, leaving huge clouds of sand it its wake.

The Metal Head's footfalls became louder and harder, causing the whole buggy to shake with each step.

The buggy's turrets fired up immediately, the tiny, piercing bullets sinking into the leader's flesh. The creature winced slightly, but kept coming, unaffected by the volley of bullets.

As before, mere feet from the creature, Jak made a sharp turn to the left. However, something happened this time that he had not expected. The creature jumped, sailing backward…and landing right in front of the buggy. It had predicted Jak's move. There was no time to react, not time to do anything except continue to unleash the buggy's solid death into the creature's hide. Roaring, the creature lowered its head into the oncoming vehicle and, with a wide, sweeping arc, sent the buggy flipping backward.

The vehicle was airborne, flipping madly through the air in a spiraling arc across the field. With its screaming passengers still strapped inside, the hurtling craft slammed top-first into the side of a dune.

Jak groaned, touching his hand to his head, feeling the warm blood oozing from a deep gash.

"Dax…you alright?"

A quiet groan was the only answer.

"Dax?"

Doing his best to ignore the pain, Jak forced himself to look at the seat next to him. Daxter was only semiconscious, his head slumping to one side, red tongue lolling out the side of his mouth.

"Daxter! Come on, buddy, wake up!"

At that moment something froze Jak just as he was reaching over to unbuckle his friend. Something that made his blood run cold: footsteps. The sand below Jak's head shook, running slowly down the side of the dune like a small landslide. Jak turned his head wildly, searching for the source while desperately trying to unhook his seat belt. One massive, three-toed foot landed beside him, shaking the buggy more than ever. A thin stream of blood oozed down the side of the leg, sinking into the crevices and cracks in the scaly flesh.

All of a sudden there was another sound, something that would spell doom for the both of them. It wasn't the sound of gunshots or the sound of Marauder motors. Hell, it wasn't even the Metal Head's horrifying roar. It was the sound of teeth. Teeth crushing and tearing, teeth chewing and biting their way to their goal. The sound of teeth tearing through the buggy's metal underside.

To be continued…

Yeah, yeah, I know. Another "to be continued." But trust me, it builds suspense. Besides, you are going to LOVE what comes next. And it won't take a billion years to update, I promise.