Haven

Chapter 2

Jak's nose twitched. Someone was tickling his face. His eyes fluttered open and he blinked, staring up at the dark sky as rain fell softly. Another drop landed between his eyes, and he blinked again.

The sky... Jak wondered distantly. Wait a minute, the shield!

Jak immediately tried to stand up, but stars burst into his vision. He lay carefully back down for a minute, trying to recall where he was and what he was doing there. Flashes of the accident passed through his mind– the green light of the force field, the balloon tearing apart. He remembered everyone screaming and falling, and someone calling his name...

He looked from his left side to his right, still lying down. He seemed to have fallen into an alley somewhere in the city. From the looks of the ragged rooftops around him and the dirty gutters that he was almost laying in, he appeared to be in the slums.

With a groan, Jak managed to sit up again. He cracked his neck and looked down at the soggy cardboard he had landed on. His communicator was on the ground to his left, but Jak could see that it had been smashed beyond usefulness.

He looked around and found his gun lying near a heap of trash. He rose to claim it, hoping that it too had not been busted in the fall when he heard a low moan. He saw a shadow laying limply in the gutter some 5 yards in front of him. It twitched.

"Ooh, my head..." Keira moaned.

Jak quickly lowered his gun and ran the short distance to where she lay. "Keira, are you okay?" he asked, gingerly rolling her over. She blinked and raised a hand to the bleeding gash above her eyebrow and winced a little.

"I think... I hit the roof, literally..." she managed to smile. Jak was quickly relieved at the sign of her old humor returning.

"Does anything else hurt?" he asked, looking her up and down for any more injuries. Keira just moaned softly again as she struggled to sit up.

"You mean, other than every inch of my body after falling who knows how far out of the sky?" she regarded him sarcastically. "No, not much." She paused and looked around the dingy alley. "Where's everyone else?" Distantly, they could hear sirens and random gunfire, but no more screaming. Their eyes stung from the smoke hanging in the air, and they could hear a blazing fire not far away. They were otherwise alone.

"We should get moving," Jak said gruffly as he stood up and extended a hand to her. She took it and pulled herself to her feet, her ankle immediately collapsing underneath her. Jak caught her before she fell. "Here, throw your arm over my shoulder," he said, adjusting his gun so that he could hold it with one arm.

Cautiously, the two stepped out into the deserted street. There were small fires everywhere, mostly originating from the wrecked zoomers that had either crashed into the street or a nearby building. Jak moved quickly, recognizing where they were while Keira stared wide-eyed at the carnage around them. There were fewer bodies lying about than she had expected, pushed to the sides of the streets or crushed up against walls. Even so, there seemed to be much more blood streaking the pavement and splattered against the sides of the buildings than could be accounted for.

Keira numbly attributed these facts to the suggestion that the Metal Heads had carried off most of their kills to gorge somewhere. She was suddenly swept up in a wave of nausea and leaned heavier onto Jak's shoulder, who tightened his grip around her waist but kept moving.

They were close to the Hide Out, or the Underground headquarters. As they slipped into the cool, dark alley, Jak noticed that it had escaped much of the chaos. He helped Keira to lean against a wall while he shoved the door open, beckoning her to follow. She slid her hand along the wall as a guide in the dark hallway and carefully hobbled down the stairs.

Jak held a finger to his lips, indicating that he wanted her to be still and quiet as he approached the second door. It slid open easily as it always did, and Jak aimed his gun around the room. It was empty and seemingly untouched– the beds were still made, Torn's desk was still littered with papers and plans that had never gone into effect. There was even a fire still crackling harmlessly in the fireplace.

Jak lowered his gun and walked back to Keira, supporting her on his arm again as he led her into the room. He set her down gently on the bed and walked quietly toward another door at the end of the room, behind Torn's desk. It was open ajar, and a chill wind was whistling through the crack. Jak cautiously opened it to a small, deteriorating balcony that overlooked a recessed street below. He looked over a section of dark houses, apparently unscathed by the fires. All was eerily quiet.

Jak stepped back into the main room and bolted the door behind him. He set down his gun and started rummaging through Torn's stuff, looking for some kind of first-aid kit to heal Keira's wounds. He settled for some athletic tape and cloth bandages, and hesitated for a moment before also grabbing some paper-wrapped plastic band-aids. He remembered when Torn had introduced him to these sticky things, and how it had stung when he tried to tear it off.

It's better than nothing, he supposed carrying his armload back to Keira, who hadn't spoken since her recovery in the alley. She held her bowed head in one hand while her other arm was wrapped tightly around her middle. Jak kneeled in front of her, looking at her with some unease.

"You should sit up straight, or else the blood will run to your head."

Keira obeyed, though slowly. She did not open her eyes and kept her hand clasped to her forehead. Jak kneeled in front of her, quickly wrapping her ankle the way he had done it to himself many times before when he was training back in Sandover.

When he was satisfied that her ankle was going to live, he crossed the room again to the fireplace and snagged a tea kettle that had been hanging near the fire. He walked over to the water pipe and filled the kettle before returning it to the fire. He waited in silence for the water to warm up; thoughts of what they were going to do after this were running rampant in his head. Should they search for Daxter and the others, or join the fight to get the city back online? And what about the Metal Heads?

"Okay, Keir, you can take your hand away now," he said as he pulled the kettle from the fire and crossed the room to kneel in front of her again. She did not seem to hear him.

Is she in shock? Jak wondered with a sudden twinge of guilt. He reached up and gently pulled her hand away, and her eyes opened slowly. She stared at him sadly but didn't say anything.

Jak bit his bottom lip and decided to work in silence as he moistened a rag in the hot water and raised it to dab at the caked blood and dirt above her eyebrow. As he made contact with her skin, Keira jerked back slightly and winced at the sting.

"It's okay," he soothed. "I'm just cleaning it up, so hold still..."

Keira closed her eyes tightly and bit her lips together until they were white. He dabbed at the wound as gently as he could until it revealed itself to be a shallow scrape.

"You'll be fine," he tried to reassure her. "Head wounds bleed a lot, but it's just a scratch." Jak fumbled with the wrapper of a bandage, trying to figure out how to apply it to the wound. "Things sure have changed since Sandover, huh?" he laughed, finally liberating the bandage. He reached up and lightly stuck it over her eyebrow.

"Sticky bandages," he went on. "Who would have thought? Well, probably Samos, since he came from this time, but he never..." Jak smiled up at Keira, hoping to cheer her up a little. Instead of smiling, however, Keira choked on a sob and started crying.

"Oh man, Keira, I'm sorry– I forgot..." he said quickly, feeling that pang of guilt again as he regretted bringing up the name of her now-missing father. He hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to comfort her before he half-stood to hug her.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean..." he began. She clung to him tightly and sobbed onto his shoulder as he stood, rocking her slightly. Seeing people cry had always made Jak nervous, and now he wasn't sure of what to do. He patted her awkwardly on the back before pulling away and sitting down beside her. Keira hiccupped and rubbed the backs of her hands against her eyes in an effort to make them stop crying.

"No, I'm sorry, Jak," she managed to say, her voice hoarse and her nose stuffy. She looked at him with red-rimmed eyes and tried to smile. "I shouldn't be so sensitive about Sandover, and... everything that's happening right now. I just..." she trailed off, and Jak continued to look concerned. "I just don't know what's going on anymore," she said, defeated.

Jak shifted on the bed nervously. "Well," he started, unsure of what he could say to brighten the situation. She looked at him expectantly. "Things aren't... as bad as they look," he finished pathetically. Keira looked like she might cry again.

"I mean, the worst is definitely over, right?" he tried to sound reassuring as he rose and walked across the room to pick up his gun. "Kor is dead. The Metal Heads are in confusion. They seem to have abandoned this part of town, and they'll probably have to withdraw. Then we'll regain the city– simple as that," he smiled genuinely.

"I bet Ashelin and Torn already have the boarders secure," he went on confidently. "And we know first-hand that the shield dome is back up, or at least, it was before we crashed into it..."

Keira looked at him worriedly. "What happened to Daddy after that? And Daxter and Brutter? Why weren't they near us when we woke up?"

Jak's smile faded and he averted his eyes to the ground. There had been no sign that anyone else had survived the crash with the shield walls. It was possible that they had fallen a ways away– they might even have been on the other side of the dead-end wall of the alley that they had woken up in. Or they could have fallen on the other side of the shield, the side overrun with Metal Heads. Or worse still, like the raft, they could have been caught up in the shield itself and... He squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn't think of them as dead, especially not Daxter. They had come too far to lose now.

"I'm sure they're okay," Jak said, perhaps too forcefully. Keira was caught off guard by the dark glitter she saw when he opened his eyes. In another moment, however, it was gone. "What matters most right now is getting out of here," he went on determinedly. "We'll probably find the others along the way, but we need to keep moving."

"What?" Keira asked, bewildered. "But I thought you said it was safe here? Shouldn't we stay and wait for the others?"

"No, I mean, yes, it's safe for now, but..." Jak pinched the bridge of his nose, not wanting to have to think anymore. "Metal Heads are hunters. Even while they are retreating, they could come across us and sniff us out. It's better to leave a trail in the opposite direction, away from the outer walls where they'll be heading."

"You mean head deeper into the city?" she asked, panic beginning to creep back into her voice.

"It's the only way," Jak said, suddenly looking very tired. "My communicator was smashed after the fall, so we can't just call and find out where everyone is. And if you think about it, the center of the city is likely to be safest, since the Metal Heads had to have breached the walls first and moved inward from there."

"But Jak..."

"No 'buts,' now let's go," he snapped as he moved toward the exit. Jak instantly regretted his lack of patience as Keira immediately shut up and looked away. He looked back at her where she still sat on the bed, arms wrapped tightly around her. As he watched her looking so vulnerable, Jak vaguely recalled that it was cold in Haven City at night and she was still only wearing that tank top that she had crossed the Rift in.

He quickly surveyed the room and found what he was looking for where it laid at the foot of Torn's bed. He crossed the room and picked up the baggy sweatshirt, tossing it into Keira's lap. Startled, she picked up the smelly, ratty thing before eyeing him dubiously.

"Put it on," he ordered as he reloaded the Morph Gun. "It's cold out there and you're barely dressed."

Keira opened her mouth to defend the "appropriateness" of her clothing but thought better of it. Instead, she just glared and pulled the oversized shirt over her head. It was ridiculously large on her small frame, as it was standard grey Krimzon Guard fatigues and Keira definitely didn't have the body of a soldier. The hem brushed at her knees and she had to push the sleeves up to her elbows.

"Better?" she asked sarcastically, still glaring at him.

Jak spared her a glance. This was going to be a wonderful trip if they were going to spend it bickering.

"Let's go."

Disclaimer: I do not own nor did I create Jak II, its characters, plots, locations, etc. It all belongs to Naughty Dog and Sony Computer Entertainment America.