Daxter ran forwards as a gentle gust of wind blew through the gas, dispersing it enough for Daxter to assume it was safe to pass through and go to Jak. He heart pounded as he remembered how Jak had coughed desperately, then…just fallen silent. Fearing the worst, Daxter called to him as he approached, but Jak didn't respond. As Daxter drew nearer, the little ball, now black and burnt looking rolled off Jak's chest, Daxter kicked it away, but not before he saw the damage it had left behind. Black and purple bruises fanned out across Jak's torso from the point where the orb had struck, and a small round circle of burnt black flesh showed the exact point of impact. Daxter suspected broken ribs. Turning Jak's hands over, he saw red shiny burns and blisters on every finger and thumb, and one on his left forearm where he had obviously tried to knock the sphere off, hoping the cloth of his sleeve would protect him. It obviously hadn't. Jak's eyes had rolled back into his skull, showing only white beneath his half open eyelids, and he was barely breathing. Daxter shook him, calling his name, but there was no response. Daxter was on his own. And it was up to him to save Jak.
Knowing that if he could get them back to the city, he could somehow get Jak onto a hover vehicle and back to the Underground Hideout. But they were not in the city, and Jak is much bigger than Daxter, who had no possible hope of carrying or even dragging Jak's limp form. Unable to think of a better plan, Daxter heaved Jak onto his side, hoping that he hadn't caused any more damage as Jak groaned softly…
He took the jet board, laid it flat on the ground, and rolled Jak back onto his back, so from head to waist, Jak was lying on the jet board. Daxter felt bad about leaving Jak's legs to drag on the ground and though the water, but there was nothing he could do about that right now. The most important thing was to get back to the Hideout, where Daxter hoped someone would be able to sort Jak out. He activated the jet board and hopped on, crouching on one side of Jak's head, checking that Jak was relatively stable and unlikely to slip off.
Daxter shifted his weight forwards gently, moving the jet board forward, heading back towards the city. He kept one paw on Jak's shoulder, hoping that he could keep him firmly on the board that way. They might have looked comical in another situation, but it would have been obvious to anyone if they had been there to see, that there was something wrong. They skimmed over the water and the dusty ground; finally reaching the security door that divided them from Haven city. Jak moaned quietly, opening his eyes slightly, Daxter looked at him anxiously, but Jak fell unconscious again within seconds.
Almost as soon as the doors were open, Daxter sped them through, deactivating the jet board the second it was hovering over the rickety wooden walkway on the other side. He winced as the board clattered to the ground; Jak sprawled on top of it. Without the communicator, Daxter still had to get Jak onto a hover vehicle on his own - for remaining this way, using the jet board, would be sure to arouse the suspicion of the Krimzon Guards patrolling the area. Daxter looked around for a likely looking vehicle. A green two seater heading their way caught his attention….
Using a combination of brute strength, the jet board, and Jak being almost conscious, Daxter managed to shove him into the passenger seat of the hover vehicle, which he had carefully positioned over the water beside the walkway. The hover vehicle's furious owner splashed towards them, shouting insults and threats, which mainly consisted of threatening to yell for guards. Daxter leapt into the driver's seat, deftly picking up the jet board as he did so. "You know, you citizens are so ungrateful!" Daxter yelled back to the man, as he changed hover zones, and sped away. They had left the morph gun behind.
The Hideout grew closer; Daxter looked across at Jak, who was slumped in the seat, his head lolling back. Rounding the final corner, Daxter switched to the lower hover zone, and carefully positioned the hover vehicle as close to the sliding door as he could manage.
Inside the Hideout, Torn, Jinx and Sig were gathered around the table, flicking through mission documents and poring over maps of Dead Town. "Where is he?" Torn growled into the communicator. "There's no artefact in Dead Town, why's he there?" Faintly, Ashelin's voice could be heard over the communicator.
"Jak left the Naughty Ottsell half an hour ago, he's gone to Dead Town, on your orders Torn."
Torn banged his fist on the table,
"I never told Jak to go anywhere!" He threw the communicator down on the map he was looking at. "What the hell is he playing at?" Jinx stubbed out his cigar on the table.
"Don't fret, he'll turn up." He said. "You to stay here, I'll go look for Blondie." Jinx strapped on his gun holster and picked up a communicator, and headed up the stairs towards the city.
Daxter turned the vehicle completely off, lowering it onto the ground. He hopped off on Jak's side, heaving his semi-conscious form onto the street. Jak staggered to the door, placing one hand on either side of the frame, leaning on it heavily as he waited for it to open.
Jinx was at the top of the stairs, waiting for the door to open.
The door opened fully, Jak remained leaning on the frame, breathing heavily.
"Jakey boy!" Jinx exclaimed as he saw Jak on the other side of the door. "I was just going to look for y…" But at that moment, Jak lost consciousness, and collapsed forwards. Jinx caught him under the arms as he fell onto him.
"Christ, Blondie!" He gasped, "What have you done to yourself?" Jinx struggled to stand Jak upright. "Torn, Sig! Get up here! Jak's back! But he's, argh…" Torn and Sig thundered up the stairs towards Jinx and Jak, Sig getting there first.
"Jinx, what did you do?" Sig grunted, trying to manoeuvre himself behind Jak in the confined space.
"What did I do? He was like this when he got here!"
Now Sig was taking some of Jak's weight from behind, Jinx managed to push him up against the wall, where it was easier to hold him upright. Torn and Sig each took one of Jak's arms over their shoulders, and half carried, half dragged him down into the hideout, depositing him unceremoniously onto one of the beds. Panting, the three men looked down at Jak, unconscious on the bed.
"Daxter…" Muttered Torn.
"Torn, he's Jak remember?" Said Jinx, looking at Torn.
"No, you idiot! We need Daxter, he'll know what happened"
"Ah." But they didn't need to worry, at that moment, Daxter stumbled into the room, dragging the jet board, and made straight for the half empty bottle on the table that Torn, Jinx and Sig had been drinking form. Torn strode over to him.
"Daxter, what's happened to Jak?" But Daxter just shook his head and took another gulp straight from the bottle. "Daxter!" Torn growled. But he was distracted from his interrogation by Sig.
"Oh my God." Using his knife, Sig had slit the front of Jak's shirt extending the rip Jak had created, throwing the severe bruising and obviously broken ribs into sharp relief. Tiny trickles of blood littered Jak's sides, where the Metal Head's claws had dug in. Sig heaved Jak into a sitting position, and Torn pulled off the rest of his bloodied and singed shirt.
"What do we do?" Questioned Sig, having no medical training whatsoever, Torn looked from Sig to Jak, at a complete loss - it shocked him to see Jak like this, invincible, constant, indestructible Jak. But Jinx had the situation in hand.
"For Mar's sake." He complained, pushing Torn and Sig out of the way as he used a wet cloth to clean the cuts on Jak's sides, then set his ribs, and rubbed blue cream onto the burns. He straightened up, scrutinising his work. It was not brilliant, not even good. But it would have to do.
Sig picked up the communicator, and spoke into it, explaining the situation to everyone with his or her communicator turned on. He didn't reach many, but Ashelin and Samos said they would come as soon as they could, for as Samos said, Torn, Jinx, Sig and Daxter are woefully incompetent.
Finally satisfied that Jak was in no immediate danger, the three conscious men turned to Daxter. Having drunk most of the rest of the bottle, Daxter evidence wasn't exactly reliable, and not having seen some of the incident, it wasn't much help, but he explained as best he could about the purple orb and the white smoke. Torn sighed and leant back in his chair, glancing subconsciously ay Jak, who seemed to be asleep?