CH. 5 Divine Intervention
Daxter stared at his friend tiredly as he tried to hold in a yawn.
"Up all night again?" Daniel asked irritably. Daxter could tell any answer he gave would anger the boy further.
He shrugged. "Couldn't sleep."
"Did you find that thing you were looking for?"
"What thing?"
"The thing you raced out of my house for. The thing you left so fast for you forgot your back pack and didn't even call when you got home. I was worried, Dax!"
The red-head looked away as he rubbed the back of his head. "I said I was sorry... I was really tired when I got home and when to be--"
"But you couldn't sleep."
"That doesn't mean I wasn't trying."
"C'mon, Daxter. Don't lie to me."
"I'm not lying."
"Then where did you go?"
"I told you, I saw something but it wasn't anything so I went home."
Daniel looked outraged by now. "Stop lying to me, damn it!"
Daxter sighed heavily and gazed out the dusty window. "It's your choice to not believe me."
With a grunt his friend stood and stormed to his seat, huffing. He'd brought Daxter's bag that morning, or more or less threw it at him, and it leaned against the red-head's chair.
Daxter kept his lips tightly together as the bell shrieked and the students filed in from the hall. His body ached today, especially his arms. He made a mental note to not scrub so hard next time.
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Her almond eyes glowered at him angrily. She was pacing in front of his desk and her shoes made a hard, clunking sound with each step.
"I can't believe you let it get away."
He massaged his left temple as he flipped through random papers, not really reading them. "A taxi picked him up. We've already confirme--"
"So what? You can find where he was picked up and dropped off, but why can't you find where he went after that?!"
He sighed in exasperation. "I've already told you. The blood trail stopped. Whoever was with him must have covered the wound."
"I risked me life to bring that thing down, and you let it get away?!"
"Jesus, will you stop talking down to me?" he hissed. "Yes, you nearly got yourself killed. And for what? To stop a monster? You should have waited! Backup was onl--"
"Waited?! If I'd have waited any longer it would have gotten away!"
"It did get away!"
She huffed again, taking back up her pacing. He ran a hand through his hair in agony. He hated arguing with her. But she was so thick sometimes--
"Where did the taxi leave it off?"
He looked at her without answering. "Your not going down there."
"Try and stop me. I'm going to find that thing. I'm--"
"Listen, I feel the same way. But we have a time window. If it's wounded it'll need time to heal before it attacks again."
She snorted. "And how do we know it doesn't heal faster than normal people? It seems to be able to do everything else a human can't!"
He stood, walking around the desk and stopped in front of her. "Please. I'm asking you to wait. Give us time." He very, very rarely used this kind of persuasion. But when her eyes softened he knew it'd worked.
"Fine. You've got three days."
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Daniel looked at him with betrayal in his eyes.
"I said we're going to the arcade. You can come with, ya know."
He shook his head. "I have work to do here."
Daxter shrugged. "Ok then."
"Dax--" The red-head looked at him quizzically. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"
"Sure."
"In private?"
Daxter looked behind him to Jak, who shrugged with his hands in his pockets. He nodded, looking back at Daniel. "Ok..."
The boy lead him to the room off of the office, where he did the paper work he was assigned when helping the secretary as he so often did.
"Listen, Daxter," he began slowly. "I know you and Jak... have become friends and all. But..." He trailed off.
Daxter bobbed his head absently, every once in a while glancing toward the closed door. "Yeah. So? He's pretty cool."
"Yeah... But listen, Dax, I don't... I don't think that's such a good idea."
He raised a brow. "Huh?"
"Hanging out with him. I don't... trust him."
"What are you talking about, Dan?"
"Listen. I'm not saying he's a bad guy, really. It's just... I don't think... it'd be good for you to hang out with him."
"... Why not?"
"Just... a feeling."
Daxter snorted irritably. "So you've got a stomach ache and that means I can't hang out with friends if it's not you, right?"
"What?"
"You just can't stand that I've got friends other than you. That's it, isn't it?"
"What? No! I--"
"Oh, I'm just the stupid class clown with the big teeth. And you're the one who's s'posed to be the big, cool guy who comes in and befriends me just because you're the nice one. Isn't that it?"
"Daxter, no, I--"
"Well, forget it, Dan. You can't judge Jak when you don't even know him!"
"You've known him for how long? How come you're such an expert?"
"'Cause I've known him longer than you."
"By what, two hours?"
Daxter snorted angrily and whisked around the other boy. "Whatever." Before opening the door he turned back. "Why don't you get over yourself, huh?" He turned the knob and slammed the wood frame behind him.
Jak looked at him in confusion as the red-head barreled from the office. Catching up, they speed-walked out of the building and down the drive, out the tall fences and down the street.
They were almost three blocks away before Daxter slowed and Jak followed suit.
A quick, gentle push on his arm comforted the red-head into speaking. "It's nothing." His voice showed otherwise, but he wasn't about to bring the blond into it.
They didn't stop in front of the bland arcade. Instead, they kept walking, nothing but silence and air between them. They wandered the nameless city streets, not even bothering to follow the side walks, cars honking for them to leave the streets as sirens and alarms bellowed in the distance. Or maybe it just seemed far away because the sound was so broken by the buildings.
Daxter distinctly remembered a lesson that sound waves turned and twisted around things. But he wasn't so sure. Since everything anyone ever said, whatever sound they made, somehow seemed to jut like a dagger into his brain and into his nerves. He twitched.
Jak's touch stole a glance from the boy, but they went on in silence. Two 'trouble making' youths running wild in town, just like all the others.
Two. That was a nice, even number.
It had always been two. Him and Dan. Dan and him. But it never seemed that way. Daniel was always doing this, talking about that. Never really paying so much attention to him. He was the nice guy, the guy old women liked because he helped them across the street, or children liked because he read to them at the library on Sundays. That was who he was. Who he'd always been, and who he'd probably always be.
But Jak was different. Jak was special.
Jak had a secret.
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Daniel glared at his stack of papers. His pen was not moving in his hand as he went over the thoughts in his mind. This was not going well. He only had a short time to force his friend to understand what he was doing. This was the biggest mistake he'd ever make. He was about to change the entire world, for the worst, and he didn't even know it!
Daniel growled as he threw his pen down. He'd tried so hard to show him a better way! After all his calculating and theories, but none of them were working!
He'd seen him! He knew that boy was a monster! What he'd become! What he was going to become!
But he still didn't care. Why? Any normal person would have strayed, would have run, cowered in fear!
So why wasn't he? Why wouldn't Daxter run from it?
Daniel raised his dark eyes to the closed door as a thought entered his mind. He placed his chin in one hand as he did when he was deep in pondering.
He'd just have to use some divine intervention.
----------
Daxter tapped the button as he moved the small wand in his hand upward. The yellow dot on the screen turned a corner and the small white specks were disappearing. Jak watched intently over his shoulder. This was his last life, and he better make it count.
His eye flicked as he saw a speck of purple come from the side of the screen. But it was too late. PacMan was eaten by the purple ghost, and his last life was gone.
Game Over.
"Damn it!" Daxter slammed his fist onto the game. With one last glare he spun on his heel. "C'mon, there's got to be somethin' better." He glanced around the crowded game room. Not so crowded with people, but the room itself was far too small for all the old game machines it housed. Daxter suddenly noticed one machine in the corner of the room with two black plastic chairs attached. He tapped Jak's shoulder as the blond studied the PacMan screen.
"Over there, c'mon."
Jak followed him as Daxter slid over one seat to the other, as it was against the wall. He smiled as he slid four quarters in, two for himself and two for Jak. "C'mon, get in."
The blond obeyed and studied the system for a moment. Daxter had already picked his car by the time he'd finally gotten to the screen.
A few moments later Daxter found himself once again glaring at a 'Game Over' screen. He snorted and looked to his side. "Stupid game anyway... Holy--"
2446739 and still counting.
Jak's score was incredible. He was still driving, his Jeep gliding around the turns as he shifted gears mindlessly. Daxter leaned against the other chair to watch. The green vehicle's tires lifted from the ground as it flew over another jump. The score kept rising as Jak passed a red sports car, then a blue Jaguar.
"Wow..." Daxter looked up to see two girls looking past him at the screen. He looked back to the game, unconsciously envious of the blond.
Two laps to go. He was in first place, had been for the last two. His tires spun half-heartedly over the water, but he never lost control and virtual sand flew as he touched ground again. The jungle flashed by in undefined pixels of greens and yellows, ill defined men and women lined the road as the scene changed desert. Daxter's eyes flicked to the small map at the top of the screen. The other cars were almost almost a quarter of the track back. Then he noticed the score again.
30087159.
A whistle caught the red-head's attention and he looked up to see the man who worked behind the soda bar watching as well, along with the girls from before and almost a score of other by-standers.
"Well now. I played that just the other day, but couldn't break four K." Daxter ignored him and looked at the screen, his jealousy building. He hadn't gotten to three-thousand, let alone four.
Block-women with large breasts in bright purple two-pieces cheered along the highway. But Daxter didn't notice them as he tried to memorize Jak's movements. As a sharp turn in the track came he tapped the break, changing to second gear. Just before the straight-way he switched up again, pushing the gas to the floor. Murmuring behind him told the red-head Jak was rather good at this game.
Last lap, and he'd broken thirty-three million. He wasn't even sweating. Was it that hot in here? Daxter asked himself. He was damp under his clothes, his white button-up sticking to the skin on his back.
Jak was out of the jungle again, the desert home straight. The people still cheered endlessly, holding up wordless signs. The pixels flashed by in a flurry of bright, dusty colors as the Jeep drove at an ungodly speed down the endless parkway.
Suddenly the blue Jag from before pulled behind him. There was always a last drive in these old games when you got the high score. One car that suddenly appeared right behind you. But Jak didn't seem to notice as the Jag eased next to him. With sudden jerk that caused the crowd to jump, Jak pushed hard on his break.
The car spun off the road. A few people asked what happened. Another answered the Jag had tried to push him off the road. Another click of the gear shift and Jak had all but won the game.
----------
The boy had a blank look to him. Normal dark hair. Normal dark eyes. Normal tanned skin. Nothing interesting about him.
He was used to dealing with Interesting people. People that stood out in a crowd like a sore thumb. But this guy could blend into any crowd. He was just white enough, just black enough, just this enough, just that enough. He could be anything. Anyone.
So why was he talking to him?
"I heard you have information," he asked in a cold voice. The boy smiled casually.
"I do."
He nodded as he shuffled through papers on his desk, trying to look busy. "Alright, sit down," he ordered huskily. The boy obeyed, taking a seat in the folding chair in front of the disoriented desk. He finally stopped and put his hands together, looking at the boy. "What's your name?"
"Daniel."
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"I mean, holy cow, Jak! That was amazing!" He flung his arms wide as he spun around to look at the blond. "You were just, vvvvvvroom! And, reeee!!! It was so cool!"
Jak chuckled as he watched the red-head attempt to make car noises as he turned his hands on an invisible wheel in front of him.
Daxter jutted a thumb toward himself. "I was bored so I threw my game, but I bet I'd have beaten your score. By at least half a mil."
Jak shook his head, smiling. But that's all he did. He didn't try to deny it, he didn't call him a nerd or a dork or an idiot or a retard. He just smiled. Silently. Like always.
Daxter pushed his hands deep into his pockets as they strode down the main drag. Coming to a corner with a stop light, they stopped, waiting for the white man to light up so they could cross.
The time seemed to drag on and on. Daxter stole a glance to his blond companion, who was mindlessly watching the world around him. Suddenly the red-head felt a little nostalgic, for some reason.
He perked and turned back to the street just as the red palm blinked off and the walking light came on. He smiled widely as he began talking again.
"You know, everyone was watching. You must have gotten the highest score they've ever seen or something." The blond smiled and listened intently. Daxter noticed his blue eyes flick down the street, but he paid no attention. "I think we should go back tomorrow. Then we could really sh--"
The hand shoved his back hard, throwing him forward as a terrifyingly loud screeching met his ears. The momentum pushed him far enough for two steps, his last catching on a crack in the road. His hands burned as they slid across the pavement, he bit his tongue as his chin it the cement. His knee had been the first to smash into the concrete, and it throbbed with pain as he rolled onto his side, pulling into himself for a moment over the pain.
As his mind cleared, anger consumed him and he pushed onto his rear. "What the Hell, Ja--"
He stopped.
The red car spun around the corner too late for him to notice it. His wide eyes stared unfocused at the road in front of him.
The body lay, unmoving. Not even the chest rose, showing signs of breath. No eyelash fluttered, no finger twitched. Just...
Nothing.
Daxter scuttled forward on his hands and knees. "O-oh my-- Oh God--" He looked down at the blond hair, matted to the tan skin of his forehead by the red gel seeping from seemingly nowhere. He looked asleep. His eyes were closed gently, just covering his ultramarine eyes, and his mouth was partially open, to allow air in.
But Jak wasn't breathing.
"C-c'mon-- Jak, say something! Jesus, just once--! C'mon!!!"
His hands fluttered over the blond's chest, never touching him. What if he hurt him more?
"Jak! Jak!! Open your eyes, buddy! God, Jak!!"
Mutters behind him turned him around. A small group stood at the corner, watching. Staring. Just... Staring. No one tried to help. They just stood there. Horrified. Horrified? They were repulsed yet did nothing?
The glint caught his eye. Daxter noticed a girl in the front with a pink cell phone by her ear. She'd probably been chatting away when she saw the accident and had forgotten all about whoever was on the other line.
Daxter jumped to his feet. She gasped and backed away when she realized he was heading for her. But he snatched the phone from her hand. She screamed at him but he ignored her as he closed the phone, ending the last call. Re-opening it as he raced back to his friend's side he dialed 911.
"911 emergency, what's the problem?"
"M-my friend was hit b-by a car--"
"Where are you, Sir?"
"Th-the corner of um--" He glanced around for a street sign. "M-maple and-- God-- Maple and Heret, Maple and Heret!"
"I'm sending an ambulance, Sir. Please remain calm."
"He's not breathing! Jesus, he's not breathing!" he cried.
"Please remain calm, Sir. What's your name?"
His name? She wanted his name? Who cared what his name was? What about Jak? Why didn't she ask his name?
"He's dying, oh my God, he's dying!!"
"Sir, I need you to stay calm. A unit will be there shortl--"
"That's not soon enough!!"
"Sir--"
Daxter let the phone drop from his hand as he leaned over the blond. "C'mon, Jak," he whispered. "C'mon! Breath, damn it, do something!"
But he just laid there. Unmoving. Unbreathing. He just... slept.
Daxter would have really thought he was just asleep. Just pretending. But the small trickles of crimson liquid gelling on his lips and nostrils told him otherwise.
Jak was dead.
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Haha. Someone reviewed, "For gods sake, Jak. He's in the shower." XDD I about DIED laughing.
Well, since that was all funny-ha-ha, I decided once again to CHANGE the story line and make it all SERIOUS.
Bah. XDDD Thanks for the reviews people!! Me loves!! X3