As promised, Ashelin and Samos arrived later. Torn sighed with relief. Samos headed straight towards Jak, while Ashelin approached Torn, asking what was going on. Daxter was sat silently near Jak's bed. Samos examined the simple first aid Jinx had administered, tutting softly. Using his green eco power, Samos set Jak's ribs properly. Everyone in the room looked up as Jak's ribs crunched back into place. Jak didn't stir.
Jinx, Samos and Sig were needed elsewhere that night, so they left, throwing apologetic glances at Ashelin and Torn as they filed passed. Daxter was asleep in his chair, slumped forwards and snoring softly.
Alone with Ashelin, Daxter and the lifeless Jak, Torn sighed deeply. He was confused. The Jak he thought he knew couldn't possibly be rendered unconscious by a few broken ribs and some minor burns. Something else was definitely wrong. Torn knew it, and judging by the look on Samos' face as he left Jak's side, he wasn't the only one.
"I just don't understand it." Said Ashelin finally, voicing Torn's puzzled musings. "He shouldn't be unconscious with just those injuries." She glanced at Jak. "Something's wrong." Torn grunted, debating in his head whether or not he should tell Ashelin his theory. He decided he would.
"Well, it's obvious isn't it?" Obvious was not the first word to spring to mind thought Ashelin…but Torn continued. "Biological weapon." Comprehension registered on Ashelin's face. "The smoke Daxter mentioned, that must have been it. The only thing is, we don't know what it was, or who sent it."
Ashelin anxiously tapped her fingernails on her thigh, what Torn had said made perfect sense, and if what Ashelin had heard about the biological weapons used in the wars with Spargus many years ago held true, Jak could die… With this thought weighing heavily on her mind, she strode over to Jak, checking his breathing and pulse. He seemed to be hanging on. But she was not reassured.
She sat down heavily. She had nothing to say to Torn, and he didn't speak either. The hours trickled past, Torn and Ashelin taking turns to check Jak's vital signs every half hour or so. Daxter slept on, annoying Ashelin more and more with every sleepy breath.
It was Ashelin who finally noticed a change in Jak's condition. As she checked the pulse in his neck, she noticed that the skin felt much hotter than usual, and he seemed much more restless, shifting and twitching in his sleep. Ashelin put her palm over his forehead. It confirmed her fears. Jak had a fever. She called to Torn to bring a bowl of cold water and a cloth, and pulled the blanket back over Jak's waist where he had knocked it off. Daxter awoke with a theatrical jerk.
"Where's the yakow?" He muttered sleepily. Ashelin rolled her eyes, soaking the cloth in the water and placing it on Jak's head. Torn stood beside her, looking down at Jak as he stirred fitfully. Finally noticing that something interesting had happened, Daxter jumped up onto the pillow beside Jak's head, and took over holding the cloth from Ashelin, who instantly took out her communicator, calling Samos.
Samos was sat in Haven Forest, conversing seriously with a mighty oak tree, when the shrill bleeping of his communicator interrupted his concentration. Samos had always been slightly bad tempered, but he had had it up to here with this Underground lot, calling him incessantly for the slightest thing, 'Oh, Jinx has cut his finger' 'Oh, Tess has banged her head.' Thought Samos, scrabbling in his bag for the infernal device. But on seeing Ashelin's name on the caller ID, his mood changed at once, it must be news of Jak…
Ashelin snapped her communicator shut. "Samos says he will be here as soon as he can." She looked seriously at Torn.
"You were right you know, Samos thinks it was a biological weapon." Torn who was taking the cloth from Daxter, about to take his turn at holding it on Jak's forehead, groaned.
'Typical.' He thought. 'My best fighter.' Then he instantly felt guilty for thinking of Jak like this, as a useful weapon, something he didn't want to lose, but only because it benefited him. He would never admit it, but he had begun to think of Jak this way more and more often. And he hated it. But with the war progressing like it was, and more and more of his fighters dying everyday at the hands of the Krimzon Robots, or the Metal Heads, he couldn't help it. Jak was the best hope they had, but with the chances of him returning safely from every mission falling every day, it was so much easier just to distance himself from him, then if one day, Jak did not return, it wouldn't hurt so much.
And so the night continued. Each of the three taking their turn to hold the cloth on Jak's brow. Samos had been and gone; announcing that there was nothing he could do for Jak, and so they would just have to wait and hope he pulled though. And so they waited. And waited. Samos's words echoing in their heads.
"I doubt he'll make it through the night."
Dawn was approaching. And Jak was worse. He was shivering violently, but beads of sweat ran down his forehead, and his skin was burning hot. He muttered incoherently, opening his eyes slightly, but didn't seem to know where he was or whom he was with. He repeatedly kicked the blanket off, and Ashelin patiently replaced it over his legs. All three still taking turns to hold the cloth on his head, still clinging to the vain hope that it would help to bring the fever down. But it didn't seem to be working. With every passing minute, Jak's condition deteriorated.
The sun finally crept over the horizon, sending watery rays sneaking through the streets of Haven, but Torn and Ashelin had no idea what was going on outside, or even what time it was. Ashelin was asleep in an armchair in the corner, Torn was trying to finish the plans he, Sig and Jinx had started before Jak arrived, and Daxter was sitting in the chair by Jak's bed, watching for any signs of change. They had long since given up with the cloth – it was obvious that it was not helping. Jak lay semi-conscious on the bed. He seemed slightly better than he had in the early hours, but he was far from recovered.
'Ha, Grandpa Green was wrong again.' Thought Daxter, as he checked Jak's pulse. 'He did make it.' But even with this small comfort, somewhere deep in his brain, Daxter was preparing himself for life without Jak.
By noon, Ashelin was awake, and Torn had long since given up working on his plans. He said it was because he was too tired to concentrate properly. But they all knew full well that it was because he was worried about Jak. Sig had returned from The Naughty Ottsell, bringing news that the Metal Heads had indeed massed half way between Haven and Spargus, and something else unusual had happened. Instead of just randomly attacking, fangs bared and claws sharpened, with no obvious plan or strategy, other than to kill anything that got in their way, with no concept of ambush, being surrounded, or being the last man standing, these Metal Heads seemed to be forming organised groups, with easily distinguishable leaders. It was decidedly odd. No one had ever heard of Metal Heads behaving like this before. But the group didn't dwell on this for long.
They were all still desperately concerned for Jak. It wasn't just that he was their best fighter, with a strange talent for finding the best way to dispatch even the most troublesome of enemy, and that without him and his invincible dark powers the war would be lost, he was their friend. Although terrified beyond comprehension at the thought of fighting the war without Jak by their sides, every single one of them, was scared more by the thought of life without Jak. And so, every one of them stopped by the hideout at least once that day, each employing what little medical knowledge they had, to try to help Jak. As the day wore on, Torn noticed how the excuses people had for stopping by were becoming more and more repetitive. He knew perfectly well that Jinx did not come to check how many explosives were being stored at the hideout, nor did Keira visit to see how many zoomers had been damaged in the last skirmish with the Krimzon Guard. But either way, Jak was still in danger.
Night was again approaching. And again, Torn was sitting in the Hideout watching Jak, but this time, he was joined by Keira and Samos. Which made it slightly more bearable, as he didn't have to worry about impressing Ashelin at every turn. Keira and Daxter were sat by Jak's bed, conversing quietly. Samos glanced at them, and sighed. He knew how painful this was for Keira, knowing that at any moment, Jak could be gone from her life forever. Torn was asleep. After all, it was hardly fair to expect him to remain awake for the second night running, when there was so obviously nothing he could do to help. Sighing again, Samos sat down. Again, he was puzzled. A normal fever should have broken by now. Especially in someone as strong as Jak. But, if his suspicions were correct, and what had finally got Jak was a biological weapon – it never would.