CH.4 It's a Secret
Days went by. Weeks. Months. He didn't know how long. The time ran together, just like everything else. The days and nights were indefinable. His taste was gone. His thoughts far away, to a place he knew too well. A jungle place that seemed more like home than this concrete cage he was trapped in. With fresh air instead of the smoke and mildew he was forced to breath in now. A beautiful, comfortable place he wanted to go to. But why was he stuck here? Why was he left in such a dank, dark, evil place like this? This city where he was so small. Cornered everywhere he turned.
A rat.
He felt like a rat trapped in a cage. A little lab rat, trapped in a place he didn't want to be, exposed with nowhere to hide but his own mind. But sometimes they drug him even away from there, throwing him back into this harsh wilderness he was so unused to.
Everything repeated itself. A daze never ending. He wasn't sure where it began and where he ended. It was like running in a hamster wheel and never being let off the roller coaster it drove. His body ached everywhere. But it was such a small, mild pain that it didn't break through his barrier. Nothing did. Nothing but the absent thoughts and words and feelings and sights and sounds of the every day that he hated more than anything--
"Uh--"
And then there was Jak.
Somehow, once in a while, they'd meet in the halls. During lunch, before or after school, transferring classes. They never said a word, but in those short moments Daxter was woken up. When he looked into the familiar and friendly eyes of that boy it seemed they hid some undermining truth he was supposed to know... It unnerved him at the same time as invigorating him. Like he was perhaps supposed to figure this meaning out all on his own. He wasn't sure how he'd do it, but he knew he knew it, somewhere deep inside him. He just had to find it.
But, as with all meetings, they soon ended. The two were often hustled by each other before a few seconds was up, and when Daxter looked back the blond was always gone.
Always.
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Daxter sat, leaning against the corner of the building and watched the layers of clouds mingle. He wondered absently when Daniel would come out since he'd been waiting almost two hours. Usually he went on home. He couldn't explain it, but he wasn't afraid to walk alone anymore. He just... wasn't scared. It seemed more wasteful, now, to fear. Not that he cared. It didn't matter. Nothing really mattered. Nothing but...
Daxter's eyes suddenly caught a glint of metal. He wasn't sure why he payed any attention, since cars drove past the school all the time, literally. But when he looked down his breath caught in his throat.
Nearly a hundred yards from him, across the field and past the fence, strode the strangest thing that pulled his memory strings. A tall man, it looked like a man at least, was walking down the sidewalk, simply minding his own business. What stuck out was the bright crimson armor he wore, and the rather large gun he carried. It didn't look like any gun Daxter had seen, and he'd seen a few inside the school. The man also had long, slender ears protruding from the sides of his head, both protected with small bits of their own armor. This was what really intrigued Daxter. He couldn't explain it, but as he reached up instinctively to his own ears, he could have sworn--
Suddenly a door screech open. He turned to see a familiar blond stepping off the stoop with an even more familiar lady on his arm. Jak and Kiera.
Daxter turned back to the field, but the man was gone. He stood and peered farther down the block in both directions, but he'd simply... vanished. People seemed to be doing that a lot lately...
Another shriek of door jamb told him another had stepped out of the building. Tearing his pondering eyes from the street, he saw Daniel stepping out off the stoop. But the two prior occupants had disappeared.
Daxter shook his head as he picked up his bag by the small handle instead of the strap and trudged out from his hiding place. Daniel noticed his steps and looked up. The same old smile spread across his face.
"Hey, what are you doing here?"
"Waiting for you. What else?"
"Really? Well, you could have told me. I was in doing paper work."
The red-head shrugged. "No big," was all he said as he pushed one hand into his pocket and swung his old leather pack over his shoulder.
"So did you hear..."
And they went on. Daxter tuned out of his friend's endless chatter as he gazed one last time across the field of dead grass, hoping to catch a glimpse of the red man with the long ears. But all he saw were cars with faded or scratched paint jobs as they rolled down the broken streets.
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He tapped the pen repeatedly on his small oak desk. But it didn't click, but simply thud on the papers crowding the expanse.
A sigh made him look up at her. She leaned against the door frame. The door itself had been knocked out long ago.
"You should go home. Get some rest," she said.
He shook his head. "I won't get any sleep as long as that thing's out there."
"C'mon. We both know he--"
He rubbed his temple, waiting for her to leave. She got the hint and removed herself from her position. But, instead of leaving, she walked seductively to the desk and leaned on it, looking down at him. He tried not to notice the top of her shirt was open.
"You need to get some rest. You'll only be a detriment if you're too slow to do anything."
"I'll be fine."
He regretted his words when she straightened, offense apparent on her round face. He ran a hand through his faded crimson hair, almost envious of his partner's bright locks.
"I'll take a break later, alright?"
She hardly looked agreeable, but the woman nodded.
"Make sure you do."
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Daxter listened as his finger brought a note out of the old, dusty piano. He touched another key and a broken sound emitted from it's gut. But it was still appealing, somehow.
"Here you go."
He turned and took the glass offered to him. Daniel slumped onto the old, flower-patterned love seat. Everything in his house seemed to be old and broken, in one way or another.
"Where's your grams?"
The boy shrugged as he gulped down the Coke. "Probably still at work."
Daxter scoffed. "Working? At her age?"
His friend pulled up his shoulders again. "What do you expect? She gets more money then she would from retirement. And we need it." To say the least.
Daxter pressed another key and this time a clean, crisp note met his ears. He almost smiled.
"Hey, if Grandma sees you fondling her old Bessie, she'll have a fit." Daniel laughed as he took another gulp of his drink. Daxter didn't even sip his own as he closed the piano lid.
A tall picture frame hung above the mantle shelf where the bricked-in fire place was. There wasn't a picture in it, only the backing. But it was a nice frame. At least at one time.
The cat-shaped clock ticked loudly from the kitchen. The air conditioner hummed and Daniel drank his seemingly endless Coke. Was something missing?
Daxter immediately turned to the foggy window and peered out, placing his Coke on Bessie.
"What is it?" Daniel asked.
"I heard something."
"Oh? Must be the neighbors."
Daxter waited. He knew it was there. He squinted his eyes. He could hear the sirens screaming down the street, the mocking sounds as they drove after some unnamed horror of the city streets.
There.
Without a second glance he dashed out the door, Daniel calling out behind him, and leaving his pack and Coke behind.
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He pulled out his gun. Motioning to the group around him, he kicked down the door, revealing a small apartment. The walls were white wash with the strange array of red spatters dripping down to the beige carpet. The smell of fresh death was strong as he moved through the home. He saw the body in the hallway, face down. An arm was missing, an one leg was bent grotesquely back, the bone jutting straight up, still bubbling with warm life-force.
A crash echoed from the bedroom at the end of the hall. He threw open the unhinged door almost too late to see the white streak falling with the glittering glass into the dusk covered city below.
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Daxter traced the streets under the old brick sky-scrapers. The back allies smelled of old garbage and urine, and the sound of moaning and rats and cars and normal city sounds were the only things to meet his ears. He didn't pay notice as he stepped on glass from an above broken window and kept through the back-way.
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It was cornered. But the ultra-human abilities it showed were too great to keep it for long.
She pushed the red dread locks from her eyes as she fingered the trigger and bit her lip. She could hear it scratching the brick lining as it searched for a way out. It hadn't noticed her yet.
She peered down the dank back road in search of her squadron. Where was he? He should have been here by now, damn it!
She took a deep breath, but it caught in her throat when she heard it stop searching. He heard her. There was only one thing left to do.
She spun around the corner and aimed.
Fire.
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Daxter stopped to catch his breath. His lungs burned as he leaned against a drainage pipe to steady himself. Gun fire echoed in the fresh night air but he didn't look up. You couldn't go a single night without gun fire in this part of the city.
Swallowing the dryness in his mouth, he stumbled forward, pacing up the block. He looked around and turned left.
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He pulled her up from the ground. She was unconscious, but apparently not hurt. His lips released a sigh of relief as he looked up at the red-clad guards. One was calling for backup, most of the others searching for clues in the dead-end alley.
She'd cornered it, and obviously wounded it. The blood trail would be easy enough to follow.
It was so close this time.
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Daxter stopped. He heard wheezing from around the corner. He barely tipped around to glance and saw a shock of white hair sprawled over hunched shoulders. The White Thing rocked gently back and forth, holding it's gut.
Daxter licked his lips and took a shaky step into the road. It perked, sitting so still it didn't even breath. It seemed to take an eternity for it to look back at him with one eye. Daxter swallowed hard as a sneer graced it's lips and the thing stood, turning to face him.
The air fled from him when the red-head saw the gaping, bloody hole in it's abdomen. He looked back to it's face and saw the sneer still in place. Blood was everywhere. Could a body carry so much blood?
He swallowed again and stepped forward. He put out a hand without thinking about it.
"Nice monster... Don't hurt me..." he whispered to himself.
Jaws snapped loudly at him before he'd even gotten close, and he pulled back. But the threat seemed too much for the beast, and it dropped again to it's knees. Crimson liquid flood from it's mouth as it coughed dangerously into the street. Before he knew it, Daxter was beside the beast. He touched it's back- It was warm. He rubbed it gently, whispering.
"Hey... it's ok... we'll get some help..."
He tried to stand but a strong, clawed hand held him fast by the arm. The White Thing looked at him through dark pools of shadow. The red-head could almost feel himself falling into the pits. They didn't even reflect light...
A nearby siren caught his attention and Daxter glanced up. A second look at the thing told him it wasn't going to make it. What was he supposed to do? Why did he want to? Why did his chest hurt like this?
He suddenly pulled off his school jacket and pushed it into the White Thing's stomach. He struggled to get it on it's feet, and pulled one muscled arm over his thin shoulders. It's head dropped as he pulled it out of the alley. He lived almost a mile from here. How was he gonna get it home?
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They pushed into the alley, guns at the ready. But it was empty. He found a large pool of blood to the left side, near the wall. But the blood trail stopped here. Where had it gone? Had someone come to clean up after it? He'd suspected it was part of some gang, but this soon?
Then again, those goons around the city were pretty good about cleaning up after themselves.
"Sir!"
He looked over to one of his men who stood at the end of the block.
"What is it?" he asked tiredly.
"More blood, Sir. It's scarce, but it keeps going."
He nodded. "Follow it. I need to get--" Who? "-- to a doctor."
The man saluted, his clunky armor hitting against itself. "Yes, Sir!"
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Crisp blond locks replaced the white strands on the pillow. Lightly tanned skin glowed in the yellow light of his lamp instead of the sallow, white, paper-thin organ that had been stretched across it's muscles and bones only moments before. Deep blue eyes were hidden under sunken eye lids as his breath came out shallow, but even.
Daxter dabbed at the wound again as he tried not to look at the face. It wasn't as bad as it had looked before. Or had he just healed, magically? The red-head twisted the cap back onto the alcohol bottle and pulled out a roll of bandages and a handful of packets of gauze. He pulled open the packets and laid the white strips across the torn skin and unwound the bandages, lifting the abdomen as he rewound it around the body's thin mid-section.
When he was finally done he surveyed his work. With a deep, heartfelt sigh he finally let his eyes flow over the body to the blank, restful face.
So it was him. It had always been him. No wonder...
Daxter looked down at his bloodied hands and stood, walking out into the hall and into the bathroom, turning on the tap. But a moment after watching the icy water streak over his stained hands, and the deluded crimson liquid drip into the drain, he realized it wouldn't be enough. He turned the focet off and closed the door.
His parents? Not home. Never home. He was alone. Save Daniel. And the man lying in his bed.
He pulled open the shower curtain and turned the hot handle. He stripped, leaving his soiled clothes on the floor and stepped into the shower, closing the curtain. It took a bit for the water to warm up. But when it did he didn't bother turning on the cold and simply stood as the scalding streams washed over him. When he finally couldn't take it anymore, he turned the knob and picked up the soap from the shelf.
It seemed to take hours for him to scrub almost all the color from his skin. The water was long turned cold, but he kept scrubbing. He's arms had gone numb from so much scratching. But his eyes kept seeing the blood, so he kept cleaning.
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The trail ended. Right in the middle of the street. Gone. Like the smog above the city. It had rolled in, and then just seemed to have disappeared.
"Maybe it took a taxi."
He rolled his eyes. Morons. Suddenly he scratched his chin. But what if someone had indeed helped it?
"Call every taxi in the city. Find anyone who picked someone up around here," he ordered. He was good at ordering.
And they were good at following, he noticed as the man saluted him and jogged off to the squad car to get the information to HQ.
This was going to be a long night.
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Deep blue eyes stared at him. They didn't flutter even for a moment from his face.
Daxter didn't even bother feeling self conscious. Why should he? It wasn't like he was being eyed down or something.
But he was naked, in the shower, and being watched. But he still wasn't feeling anything. Why?
Jak was slightly hunched as he held his mid-section absently with one hand and the curtain with the other. His eyes were half closed as he gazed at the red-head, thoughts forming in his mind but nothing coming to his mouth.
Daxter finally swallowed as he hugged himself tighter. "Um... Do you mind...?" he mumbled.
But Jak didn't move. He just watched him with intent, bright eyes.
Daxter tried to push himself farther into the wall when a tanned hand was placed at his side. But it didn't touch him. As Jak leaned in closer, he made sure not to touch him. He got a close as possible, not even a breath away. But he never touched him.
The red-head stared at the taller male in confusion. He hadn't gotten to know Jak very well in the short time they'd know each other, but this was peculiar, even for him.
He hardly noticed the touch. It was so light it barely registered as a touch at all. But it was still there.
Daxter closed his eyes as his tense muscles relaxed as he gave in. It wasn't that bad, was it? To simply go with it? Why fight it? It would only cause more problems.
What happens, happens. Right?
"Shh. It's a secret."
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Well, thanks for reading. XD I know this is getting really confusing. I changed the story line after chapter 3 so it might get a little unothodox for a while. But hopefully we'll get back on track. XP
Thanks again for the reviews!! And if you have any questions, feel free to ask! But don't be surprised if I don't give a traight answer... X3