I like the first half of this chapter the most.

Chapter 25: Only a Temporary Relief

Hardly a day had gone by, and Jak's body was sore and bruised. To be more accurate, he could only assume that it must be bruised, as it was getting too dark now to see much of anything. The natural light was nearly gone, and dim candlelight was peeking under the door, only wandering in an inch or so before fading, as if afraid to come any closer than necessary to the man with a monster living inside him.

That monster had gotten loose again today, during Maia's last visit. And yet, he was still powerless against her. She had more control over Dark Eco than he did, and he was already weakened with her treatment of him. And even though Dark Jak was what might allow him to break out (if Maia hadn't already exhausted him), he wouldn't give in. That would mean the Dark Eco had won. That they had won. No, he could get out of here using his own strength. He didn't need Dark Eco to get him out of his problems. If only his light side would come back, but ever since he had been in that Dark Eco-poisoned section of the Wasteland, he had felt no sign of it. Like his dark side had grown so large, it had swallowed his light side whole.

Jak sighed and slid farther into the corner, wrapping his arms around himself. It was starting to get cold, and on this hard floor, he had a long night ahead of him. And where was Daxter? They had made no mention of him, which could only mean he was out there somewhere. Otherwise, they would have tormented him further with details of his friend's fate.

After several hours of thinking about how he might escape from his prison (the door was surprisingly robust), not that he'd likely be able to get very far before being caught anyway, with his body aching as it was, he started to doze off. At least Dark Jak was silent for now. It seemed even it was tired.

He started to hear a scratching, quiet at first, and then the noise started to build. Something was tearing at the door of his cell, black claws burst through like a knife through cloth, wood splintering, splinters flying across the room and into his skin. He was bleeding, and the door was almost gone, and he had nowhere to go. He was trapped. He was always trapped. But, when the remains of the door came crashing down, the noise echoing as if it was a much larger room, only blackness was out there. An open maw outside the room, growing larger and closer until it was almost upon him, no matter how hard he pressed his back into the wall.

Jak sat up with a strangled cry, sweating and heart pounding in his chest. Just a dream. It was, wasn't it? But, the scratching… His gaze sped to the door. The candlelight was still coming from beneath, broken by a narrow shadow. He jumped as a thin arm shot under the door and waved around.

"Come on, Jak, I know you're in there!"

Watching the arm a moment longer and trying to make sure it was really there and not just an extension of his nightmare, Jak then moved to the door, too anxious was he to reach it, he arrived there by way of his hands and knees rather than by walking.

"Dax, it's you! It's…why were you scratching on the door?"

The arm retreated. "I dunno. I thought knocking would sound too obvious, so…well, everyone thinks I'm a rat anyway! Maybe…"

"Are you okay, Dax?"

"Of course, I am. Why—"

"I didn't know if they caught you or—"

"Don't insult me. No one catches Orange Lightning. No one. Could you catch me that time I spewed all over your JET-Board? I think not."

Jak laughed. Good, old, Dax. "Better be quiet, though. They might hear you."

"I know, I know. I don't like whispering, though. It doesn't feel official," Daxter said, voice hardly any softer than before. He paused. "You okay, Jak?"

"I'm fine, Dax. Don't worry about me. Just worry about yourself."

"I'm gonna get you out of here, okay? I'll use my ninja stealth and steal that key from them." The shadow moved about, and Jak wondered what bizarre pose his friend was likely taking on right now. "I'll sneak up on 'em and…"

Just then, Jak's ears caught the sound of a sharp clicking on the stone floor. "Dax…"

"…once they're knocked out, I'll…"

"Dax, be quiet! Someone's…"

The noise was getting louder. Dax, shut up! Why can't you hear it?

"…and we'll be ridin' outta here with the robot's severed head in tow! Whaddya say, Jak!"

"Dax, get out of—" His head turned at the sound of a new voice, not that he could see the source.

"There's our rat," said the voice of Maia. "It simply won't do to have something so filthy running around, now will it?"

Daxter shrieked, and Jak saw his shadow jump out of the way as a purple glow illuminated where he had been standing. "Dax, get out of here!"

"Oh, no, I'm going to have my skinned rat. Stand still. It will hurt, but that's what makes it fun."

"I'll save you, Jak! I promise!" Daxter's voice faded into the distance, and a larger shadow blocked out the light for a moment. Jak pressed against the door and listened, but he heard nothing more.

Under normal circumstances, having the city overrun by Wastelanders would have caused quite the panic. But, after the invasion of a much worse sort, that had thus far lasted several days with no signs of stopping, the presence of these rough men and women made no difference one way or another. The soldiers of Haven City had to get used to working alongside those they considered criminals and savages at first, but after witnessing the no-nonsense way the people of Spargus went about making the snarling, vicious monsters into dead, vicious monsters, the soldiers couldn't help but agree that they were a more than welcome addition to their ranks. Their absence of full-body armor and advanced weaponry, rather than making them less-suited to battle, seemed to do quite the opposite. In fact, the Freedom League soldiers couldn't help but agree that the Wastelanders, when crossed, could match the ferocity of the monsters, and in some cases, surpass it. After Torn managed to convince Ashelin to allow him to assist in the war effort again (not that he needed her permission, she was just adamant about…he didn't need her permission), he saw a Wastelander he could have sworn was a young woman, based on her build, take out a monster twice her size.

They're gonna make me look like a pansy, he thought, and just like that, he was fighting without armor himself. If Jak could do it, so could he. Plus, Sig himself was out there fighting alongside everyone else (the man was a walking tank, after all). He couldn't hide in the Freedom League HQ or inside some suit of armor and make Haven City look like a bunch of wimps when Spargus' own king was out there risking his life. (And he absolutely did not need Ashelin's permission to do anything!)

Several days after the war started, they were already beginning to make some progress against the monsters. While their numbers were absurd, the presence of the Wastelanders and the inspiration they instilled in their Freedom League comrades caused the enemy ranks to dwindle faster than anyone could have ever hoped, the combination of Wastelander wit and advanced Haven City firepower proving to be more than a match against creatures that may be strong, but nevertheless, dimwitted. While the creatures had temporarily made their way to all sections of the city, their combined force of two armies was now beginning to push the things back towards the broken section of the wall. It was also finally safe (well, not safe, but certainly less hectic) enough for Samos to venture out and heal those he could, while Keira provided assistance to the injured brought to the hospital, the only compromise the Green Sage would accept.

But, Jak. There was still no sign of him. He had been gone several days now, and while he had a habit of disappearing from time to time, he was always around to help when there was danger. Torn couldn't keep from wondering if something had happened to him, despite the man's past reputation of fighting his way through any situation he encountered, no matter what the odds. It had just been too long since anyone had seen or heard from Jak, and with the city at war, this is where he should be. Even if he had gone off to deal with the robot, shouldn't he be back by now? But, Jak would just have to get out of his current troubles himself, whatever they were. No one here had time to leave the city and help him.

And now Torn continued his part of the fight in the section of the city not far from the race stadium, the sound of battle surrounding him, but now the dying cries of the monsters could be heard more often that those of soldiers. As he rounded a corner to move alongside the city's western wall, north of where the damage had been done, he found himself sneaking up on a pair of monsters quite by accident. They twirled around, and one let out a growl, as if admonishing him for catching them unawares, while the other one attempted to circle around behind him. The latter received a few shots from his pistol to the head, and it squealed before coming at him in an erratic run, half-blinded from the blood flowing from its wounds. He backed up and shot it a few more times before it went down, writhing on the ground. Now it really should have seen that coming.

He turned to the other, who now appeared rather disappointed in its unwelcome visitor. It looked at its downed companion, still squirming, then back at him.

"Aren't you an ugly thing," he said, and it hissed before charging at him full-force. He sidestepped it and watched as it passed him by, before the creature spun around to face him again, skidding on loose pebbles and debris from the damaged buildings nearby. He fired, one shot, two…

Only a hollow clicking came from his gun. One hand went down, but found all his ammo to be gone. He only had time to swear before the creature was upon him, ramming into him and sending him flying into the nearest building. He struck the wall and fell to the ground, but was back on his feet almost as soon as he hit the concrete, hand reaching for his knife, not that it would be much use against something like this. He hardly had the knife halfway out of its sheath before it was right before him again, mouth open and one claw ready to slice him with the equivalent of five of his knives, but before it could land any blow on him, the creature was engulfed in a white ball. He barely dodged as it was flung into the wall itself. It landed, twitching a few moments before going still.

Torn stared at his former assailant, then, looked up to where the shot must have come from. Sig was looking down at him from atop the city wall, Peace Maker in hand.

"Hey, I'm gettin' kinda sick of people rescuing me lately!" he said. He was losing his touch. He must have gone too long without any action.

"Sorry about that! Killing things is kind of a reflex for me now!" Sig beckoned Torn with one arm. "Come on up here. Take a breather."

Seeing as he had no bullets left, a rather unappealing state to be in mid-battle, Torn did just that. He wound his way through the fighting to find a door located in the base of the wall not far away and rode the elevator up. Once he reached the top of the wall, he found the larger man looking out over Haven Forest.

"You city dwellers are pretty spoiled," Sig said, nudging one arm towards the forest. "The most greenery we ever see is when one cactus grows next to another one."

"We're not spoiled when the city gets invaded." Torn came over to join him, and his eyes scanned over the object of the other man's attention. He saw nothing impressive about it.

"But, hey, this is the first time in, what is it, three years?"

Torn grunted in response as he thought this over. He supposed it could have been that long, which would explain his boredom before all this trouble started up again. It was like some malevolent spirit with too much free time on its hands had heard his complaints and decided to make him regret it. "That long, huh? I guess we really were getting spoiled."

Sig laughed. "Good to see us Wastelanders and city slickers agree on some things." He held his Peace Maker to the side and leant on it. "And yet Haven City still doesn't trust us. When are they going to get over their fears?"

Torn shrugged. "They're just idiots sometimes." People were afraid of what they didn't understand. It was as simple as that. Torn had been distrustful of Wastelanders himself in the past, and many of them were scumbags, but Haven City had its fair share of unsavory people itself. But, most people were that way at least some of the time. He knew that he certainly could be, on his bad days. Or his regular ones, when some moron asked for it.

But, in the end, none of that really mattered. What did matter was the fact that Spargus had come to their aid. He couldn't say Haven City would be too happy about doing the same. Even if Ashelin commanded it, there would be resistance to helping people that the majority of Haven considered their enemies simply because they didn't know any better.

"Why'd you do it?"

"Why'd I do what?"

"Come here. Haven City and Spargus aren't exactly friends, and yet you bring practically the whole city all this way to fight for us. Why?"

"And leave all of you to die?"

"We've dealt with these kinds of things before. And are you sure we'd do the same for you?"

He looked over at the taller man, who had not taken his eyes off the forest since Torn had joined him up here, an expanse of green that started just outside the city walls and ran off into the distance. From this height, the tops of the trees were visible more than anything else, tufts of green swaying with a slight breeze Torn barely noticed, a peace that was ruined by the sound of fighting behind them. He had never really paid any mind to the forest that sat just outside the city walls before, as it had always been there. But, he supposed if he had grown up in the desert, maybe it would be a different story. Or not. He never cared much for plants.

"One," Sig began, "you haven't dealt with something of this scale before, and two, what does it matter what you'd do? Haven City's always given us the short end of the stick, but if someone like Jak tries so hard to protect it, then maybe the city's worth protecting, no matter what they may or may not do for Spargus. And besides, I may be a Wastelander, but I'm not heartless."

Both men looked over at the sound of yelling to their left, not out of place during a battle, except for the even more frantic tone it took on, becoming more suspicious when they saw soldiers farther down on the wall staring outside the city, not in.

Torn groaned. "What now?"

Sig was off first, the weight of his armor not seeming to slow him down one bit, and Torn almost reached for his gun before realizing it wouldn't be of much use right now anyway. He grumbled to himself and went off after the other man. As they headed towards the damaged section of the wall, his eyes caught sight of something he shouldn't have missed if he had just looked, but likely failed to see merely because he hadn't expected to see it.

He skidded to a halt not far from where Sig had stopped, looking out over the barren expanse of sand with a hand shielding his eyes from the sun, which did nothing for the glare coming off the dunes, a landscape that made a sharp contrast to the forest they had just left behind. In the distance was a massive blanket of black, rippling as it moved towards them with no end in sight. He swore. How could Haven City handle yet another wave of those things, especially one of that size?

A murmur of shock and fear met Torn's ears as the soldiers stared out at the mass, with nothing to do but wait for it to arrive.

Sig whistled. "Looks like those beasties haven't gotten enough of us yet."

"There must be over a million of them." Feeling the gun on his leg with one hand, he added, "You got any bullets?"

The larger man shook his head. "Nope. Only Peace Maker ammo. You need to replace that flimsy pistol of yours with something more substantial. It looks like it barely has enough firepower to take down a leaper lizard."

"A gun's only as good as the one who uses it. I think I'll be fine." If I had bullets, that is.

"Suit yourself. I got monsters to kill." And just like that, Sig was off.

Torn sighed. Isn't that how it always is? he thought, just when you start to hope again, something else comes along to crush it. When would he ever learn?

Hey, where's the fun in it being easy? Now you get more target practice, Torn. Please review.