**REVISED CHAPTER**
Jak and Daxter (c) Naughty Dog
Cry Of The Wolf
Chapter 5 – Trouble at the Pumping Station
It had taken five Freedom Fighter run-ins, two citizen disputes, and ten zoomer near-misses to finally reach the Pumping Station. For Jak it had been somewhat difficult, due to the rearranging of this part of the city. Luckily he had Daxter with him, who successfully navigated him to the metal door. Jak steered the zoomer carefully to the path, and parked it hastily. He could hear Guards still on alert for him, which made him move all the faster.
After securing the zoomer, Jak ran to the edge of the path, and gazed over the water to the door. Without a second thought, he grabbed his Jet-board and threw it into water. The sounds of the Guards were getting louder, so he leapt from the dry pavement and landed with a dull thud on the board. Some water splashed up, wetting his boots, but otherwise he was dry. Steering his board to the door, he kept it immobile while the doors finally acknowledged his presence and began sliding the gears open slowly. Still the Guards were getting closer.
"So Jak, when will this door OPEN?!" Daxter yelled, clinging desperately to Jak's head in fear of falling into the canal. Jak growled impatiently, wanting to know that himself. Another tense moment passed as the final gears clicked into place, and the door emitted them passage. Jak kicked the Jet-board into a jump to reach the decontamination chamber, and observed the Guards as they finally located their delinquent. With a last cheeky wave at his pursuers, Jak watched as the door closed, shutting the Guards out from sight.
When the second door had opened, Jak took a tentative step through and gazed around. Not much had changed since his last visit roughly three years prior. The vegetation remained virtually the same, and the old, rusty pipes were still hanging above the steel platforms. He noticed too that it seemed awfully quiet here; not a single thing stirred. Thinking that perhaps Ashelin was wrong for once, he pulled out his map, and darted his eyes across the paper until he located the small, red circle. "So, this is where Ashelin thinks metal heads are hanging around. Well, let's get rolling," Jak said, folding up the map and returning it to his pocket.
Although the place seemed deserted, Jak knew better than to wander around without his gun at the ready. Slipping out his morph gun, he set it to scatter before heading towards the steel platform. He leapt up on the platform and followed it around the island, eyes and ears peeled for danger. A little while later, something caught his attention, and he stopped dead in his tracks, listening hard. Somewhere in the near distance, he could hear cries for help.
"Dax, do you hear that?" he murmured, keeping his voice low as he gazed around at the towering cliffs and vegetation.
"Huh?" Daxter replied, squinting around too.
"I think I heard cries for help. We should go check it out," Jak said, leaping over a gap in the steel grate. He landed heavily on the other side, and broke into a run towards the cries, straining to hear over his thumping feet. Low-lying branches whipped at his legs and arms, but Jak pushed on, uncaring. He was more concerned about finding the person in trouble.
A niggling sense of paranoia lurked at the back of his mind, so he kept his gun out and aimed ahead, just in case it was a trap, or if metal Heads were lurking in the vegetation.
"Jak, where are we-" Daxter began loudly over the noise, but was cut off at the sudden halt of movement. He flew off Jak's shoulder and hit the ground in a pile of orange fur. "Thanks for the warning, Jak," he growled bitterly, getting to his feet and rubbing his shoulder tenderly. Jak glanced apologetically down at him, but placed a finger to his own lips.
"Shhh," he whispered, creeping slowly towards the edge of the nearest cliff.
"Help! Help me! Please!"
Jak inched his way forward, and tilting his head down, saw who was crying out for help. From what he could discern, it was a man with long, matted black hair. He had one gloved hand gripping on desperately to the rocky wall, six feet down.
"Help me!" he cried again, spotting Jak peering over the edge at him.
Jak darted his eyes around the area. "There has to be something here that we can use," he growled, feeling desperation mount as he looked from trees to branches to rocks in the sand.
"Maybe that could help," Daxter suggested, running over to a rusty, thin pipe hidden in the bushes. Jak nodded and Daxter quickly tossed it over to him. Inching back over the edge, Jak lowered the pipe towards the man.
"Grab hold!"
"Are you crazy? I can't grip that! It's suicide!" the man yelled, struggling to keep from falling.
"Do it, or you're dead anyway!" Jak reminded him, feeling sweat already beading on his forehead. He watched as the man tentatively reached out and grabbed the pipe, before letting go of the ledge. The pipe slid roughly in the stranger's hands, and Jak heard him grunt harshly as he tried to keep himself from slipping further. Once Jak knew the man was secure enough, he slowly backed away from the edge, pulling the pipe and the man up to safety. Panting heavily by the time he'd got the man up on solid ground, he threw the rusty pipe away, and clutched his side.
"Thanks, comrade," Jak heard the stranger murmur, and he turned to see the man on his knees, one tattered gloved hand planted firmly on the ground, the other gripping his left shoulder. His entire body was trembling.
"Nothing to it," Jak replied between breaths, straightening up and brushing a few strands of hair from his eyes. He scanned the area, reassessing their surroundings while Daxter scrambled back onto his shoulder. "Dax, let's keep moving," Jak muttered, retrieving his gun from the ground. Turning to the man they'd just rescued, he took a step closer. "We're on a mission, so we don't have time to stick around. I'll be seeing you," he said to the man before turning to leave.
He hadn't taken a single step before the man called out to him to wait a moment. Turning back around, Jak watched as the man stood shakily to his feet and walked over. He took the opportunity to take in the man's appearance, noting the khaki shirt, navy-blue fingerless gloves, and leather and metal shoulder plates. Brown leather boots encompassed his feet, in which grey pants were tucked into them, followed by leather and metal shin guards. On both sides of the man's hips hung layered leather, supposedly acting as armour of sorts. Against his right hip hung a pistol inside its holster. What alarmed Jak though, were the bluish-grey tattoos on the man's face. Unable to stop himself, Jak tapped his own face to show his meaning, and asked "Krimzon Guard?"
Frowning for a second, the man faltered his advance, before realizing that Jak was referring to his tattoos. "You're mistaken, I'm afraid," he said, his deep voice hoarse, as he continued over to Jak. "So where are you headed?"
"Scouting the area out, then heading back into the City. Why?" Jak replied, glancing at the man.
"I must speak with your leader. Take me to him. Please." Jak scrutinized him carefully, now knowing that the man was a foreigner. Regarding him a moment longer, Jak narrowed his eyes, intent on asking a few questions of his own first.
"Just so you know, our leader is a woman. But before I take you to her, who are you and where did you come from? How did you get out here?"
Nodding his head in understanding, and man gave Jak a warm smile. "I am a traveler who seeks sanctuary within these walls," he answered, motioning to the high, metal security walls dividing the Pumping Station from the city. "I was running low on fuel and crashed my vehicle into the water before I could get inside the city. I swam to the shore as the wreckage sank. I was searching for a way inside, before I met with trouble. Again, I thank you for the help."
Brushing the gratitude aside, Jak continued his barrage of questions. "I see. And what is your business exactly?" Watching the man closely, Jak looked for any signs of restlessness or threat, still deciding if he trusted the stranger enough to show him inside.
"I have told you, I seek sanctuary. I left my home on the outskirts of the Wasteland, and am in need of temporary shelter. Please grant me this request."
Jak dropped his eyes to the ground and contemplated the man's words. Nothing in the way the man spoke, nor his body language, entailed suspicion. "Fine. First, tell me your name," Jak demanded, studying him once again.
"The name's Sharok."
Jak let the name sink in, before turning his back to him. "I will take you to Ashelin. She can help you from there," he explained, loading his gun with fresh scatter ammunition.
"Um, heh, what are you doing?" Jak spun around at Daxter's alarmed voice.
He noticed Sharok had a dagger clasped within his hand, looking straight at Jak through menacing, blue eyes. An instant later, the hostile expression had vanished from his features, and Jak half wondered whether it'd only been a trick of the light. "I just heard something prowling around, that's all. If it makes you uncomfortable, I won't draw it again," he replied, slipping the blade into the sheath on his back. He gave Jak another smile, but something inside Jak refused to trust him from then on. He still had his misgivings for finding him out here, dangling off a cliff, but having him whip out a dagger when Jak's back was turned deepened the feeling. He was certain he'd heard nothing prowling around.
"Keep it sheathed," Jak ordered, and Sharok nodded.
"Of course."
An uneasy silence befell them, but Jak continued to keep his head clear of judgment for Sharok. He'd leave Ashelin to decide how innocent the man really was. "Come, I want to get this mission over and done with. Besides, my arm is aching like hell," Jak finished, readjusting his gun, as it was rubbing against his bandage.
"What happened?" Sharok asked curiously, peering down at Jak's arm.
"I was bitten. Now let's get moving," he replied flatly, moving away from him. He heard footsteps fall in behind him, and led Sharok down to the exit. Reaching the doors, he motioned at the protruding metal frame. "Just stay here. I'll come back once I've finished scouting the place."
Without a word, Sharok sunk down onto the metal frame, and Jak took his leave with Daxter. They spent a good thirty minutes searching the place, finding nothing at all, before making tracks back to Sharok. Reaching the man, Sharok looked up, enquiring.
"All done. No Metal Heads at all," Jak sighed, moving closer to trigger the door. Sharok got to his feet and fell in beside Jak.
"You were hunting Metal Heads, then?"
"Yes. It's weird we didn't find any. There were reports of activity here," he replied, stepping into the waiting chamber. The door closed noisily behind them, before the other opened up to the world beyond. Holding back, Sharok abruptly turned to Jak.
"Any chance of letting me see the Freedom League leader instead?" he asked casually. Jak immediately felt his guard spring up.
"How do you know about the Freedom Fighters?" Jak asked curiously, once again questioning the man's sincerity.
"Jak, I know a bit about Haven City to know who they are," Sharok replied nonchalantly, making a move to walk through the door.
The hair on the back of Jak's neck suddenly prickled. "How do you know my name? I never gave it to you." Jak's eyes became slits as he turned to Sharok, but the man failed to sense the cold shift between them.
"I heard your companion calling you that, and assumed it was your name."
Jak accepted the excuse, albeit doubtfully, and locked his gun into the sling on his back. "I'll take you to Torn, but I warn you, he'll probably dismiss seeing you like he does with everyone else," Jak agreed, grabbing his Jet-board and launching himself into the water. Reaching the pavement, he returned the board to his back. "Well?" he called, motioning for Sharok to jump in and swim. Sharok gave him a rather dirty look before a loud splash met his ears. Jak waited for Sharok to emerge out of the water, and when the man struggled to get out, he leaned down and helped him.
"Thanks, lad," Sharok winced, wringing the water from his long hair. Jak once again brushed the gratitude aside, and beckoned Sharok to follow him. A few yards down the street, Sharok called after him, "Jak, wait up, will ya? I'm not as young as I used to be!" Halting his pace, Jak waited until the man had caught up, before moving onwards again. He just hoped Torn was at the Naughty Ottsel so he could take this man off his hands.
