Jak Phoenix

by Matt D. Williams

Chapter Twenty-One - Dead Weight

  Jak’s goal, as he was hauled through the ship by Zelus, was to drag his feet and make himself as heavy as possible in order to slow Zelus’ progress and give Jak time to think. Fortunately, the severe blow he had taken to the head allowed him to do just that with little additional effort.

  He saw Cyan off to the side, hands bound behind her back and led by several of the helmeted soldiers who had attacked them on Murdock’s ship. The bone-thin professor had also joined the group. Jak decided to lay on the theatrics and pretend he was far more injured than he was.

  The steel instrument Jak had taken from Cartrite’s desk was pushed up inside the cuff of his shirt, barely resting up against the band of his smashed wrist radio. Jak was trying his best to keep his bound hands in a position behind his back that would prevent the small metal object from falling out, but wouldn’t obviously show his attempt at concealing it. If his captors saw it, he was sure he’d be dead or at least beaten badly enough that he wouldn’t have a chance at escape. He also hoped Cartrite wasn’t obsessive enough to notice it was missing.

  Along corridors, down power-lifts, and through hallways they were dragged. Jak kept the appearance of being dazed and injured even after the effect of the powerful punch had nearly worn off. He could no longer see Cyan, as his view was obstructed by Cartrite’s men, and it made him uncomfortable. He knew she could take care of herself, but he didn’t want her to make a move at the wrong time. Jak didn’t know what that right time would be, but he was confident he’d know it when he saw it.

  They finally reached a doorway and Jak was dragged inside. He intentionally caught his feet on the side of the archway, impeding the entrance of their whole party. One quick jerk from Zelus twisted Jak’s spine and brought him inside.

  The first thing Jak noticed was the smell of gun fire in the air. Someone had been busy here. Were they heading to an execution room?

  Jak tried to collapse, but was restricted by Zelus’ iron grip. With his head still sloped downward in the exaggerated attempt to appear on the verge of consciousness, he peered through his eyelids at the room, to get a bearing on the situation. It was a laboratory, and a terrible looking one at that. From the sharp and ugly instruments he saw, nothing good could possibly be accomplished there.

  As he passed a series of dull metal tables, his heart skipped a beat when he saw the injured — or possibly dead — man strapped down. It was Murdock. This is what happens when you get too far out of your element, thought Jak. Basically, it was the same thing that was going to happen to Jak.

  The professor barked orders to a few of the men and rushed around the room readying equipment and setting up his many imposing apparatuses. Jak saw how they obeyed his commands, showing that this odd little scientist must have had a high place in their command structure.

  Jak was picked up and tossed face down onto one of the metal tables. It was definitely solid. As he continued his act, he saw the same thing being done to Cyan. She caught his eye as her cuffs were being removed. Jak shook his head as carefully as possible. He hoped she got the point. Jak didn’t want her to start jumping around until he was uncuffed, or he would become an easy casualty.

  From the shadow cast over him, Jak could tell it was Zelus behind his back, loosening his bonds. He understood the reason for releasing them, when he saw the guards clamp down Cyan’s hands into the steal bindings on the table. She gave him a look of death for ruining her last chance of escape.

  Zelus flipped Jak over onto his back, underestimating the speed he needed to work at, with Jak’s apparently half-conscious form. The professor stood beside, with his back to Jak, fiddling with something on Cyan’s table. Folly or not, this was Jak’s last opportunity. They had made a dire mistake, but Jak would have to be so fast, and so accurate.

  The moment he felt the tension on his wrist release, he urged the metal utensil out of his sleeve and into the palm of his hand. It fell into a spot between his fingers, with the tip on his palm. Jak’s body tensed as he jerked himself upward as swiftly as his body would allow. As he swung his arm, he corrected the positioning of the tool, gripping the short barrel with a tight fist.

  His knuckles were pure white as the pointed steel connected with the hardened skin of Zelus’ right bicep. In the split second it took for the deed to be done, Jak still found time to be disgusted by the feeling of the tool puncturing the deep muscle of Zelus’ arm.

  As Zelus reeled in pain and reached over to pull the writing utensil from his arm, Jak flung forward and snatched the combat pistol from the left holster at Zelus’ hip. It slid from the soft brown leather easily, leaving no time for Zelus to react.

  Jak kicked Zelus’ chest from atop the table, sending Zelus falling backward through a cluttered shelf and giving Jak the momentum to spin around to the other side of the operating table. He slid off the shiny surface and down onto Professor Voth as he stopped his fiddling to see what the commotion was behind him. Jak wrapped one arm around the professor’s neck and then thrust the gun up against the side of his face. The barrel clinked on the metal implant around the professor’s eye. Jak disabled the safety on the gun and made sure it was active. It felt like there was a corpse inside the long white doctor’s robe, not a living man.

  Zelus righted himself and ran forward; stopping behind the table Jak had been on. The entire group of soldiers aimed their guns at Jak. As blood streamed down the right arm of Zelus, he reached for his weapon and found nothing.

  “You tried this before and it didn’t get you anywhere,” said Zelus. Jak could tell he was in agony, wishing Jak would just go quietly.

  “Last time I made a mistake,” said Jak. “Last time I chose a nobody. I’d like to bet you won’t harm this old freak.” Without removing his eyes from those of Zelus, Jak spoke again to Professor Voth. “Unbind her hand,” he said. He didn’t have to ask twice. The professor opened the metal clamp on Cyan’s wrist, allowing her to reach over to the other side of the table and free herself.

  “Where do you plan to go?” asked Zelus. “You’re trapped on a ship with thousands of people who are going to try to kill you, and no one to help. If you put that gun down, I promise I will try to find an alternate arrangement for you.”

  “Sorry.” Jak was not going to give Zelus anything to work with in his hostage negotiation tactics.

  Jak felt Cyan come up beside him and pull aside the professor’s jacket. She found a small gun tucked into his belt and removed it for herself.

  “Let’s go,” she said quietly, before scuttling off behind him.

  Jak backed up slowly with the professor. There was only one door in the laboratory. That would work to their advantage.

  Before Jak had backed up past the second operating table, Cyan arrived back and plopped down an old red and bronze chest onto the table’s hard surface.

  “You must be joking,” said Jak. He knew without an explanation that the Balarian tablets were inside this chest. Another mistake on behalf of the enemies. Cyan smiled and nodded in acknowledgement.

  Jak backed up further and only remembered Murdock’s body as he passed the table again. Only it wasn’t a body. He was breathing, and his eyes were cracked open. Did he whisper Jak’s name or was that in his imagination? Jak saw his hand, reaching out to him from below the wrist restraint.

  Damn.

  “He’s alive,” said Cyan.

  “Meet Murdock,” replied Jak.

  Cyan crinkled her face and said, “Let’s go.”

  “Let him out.”

  “You’re kidding right? It’s his fault we’re here in the first place.”

  “Well, it’s a little awkward now that he’s laying here dying and begging for help, don’t you think?”

  Cyan huffed, put the chest of tablets onto the floor, and worked at unclipping his wrist and ankle restraints.

  Jak tried to maintain eye contact with Zelus, while holding the professor.

  Murdock barely moved an inch. Jak waited a few more seconds for h
im to attempt crawling into a sitting position. It wasn’t happening.

  “Damn it! Get him off the table.”

  Cyan didn’t even bother to argue this time. She awkwardly tried to slide him off the table, slipping his arm around her neck. Even if she had the strength, Murdock was taller than her, which upset the mechanics of her acting as his support and backbone. Zelus was smiling. He knew it was a mess.

  Cyan dragged him up to his feet, supporting herself and Murdock against the edge of the table. Her only option was to use her foot to slide the case along the floor as they progressed ungracefully toward the exit.

  Jak tried not to panic at the disaster waiting to happen. He made sure his grip on the professor was secure. Zelus was still in his line of sight. Now they had a big crate of stones and a sad sack of a man to drag along. Jak’s plan ended outside the door.

  As they slowly backed up toward the door, Jak realized he didn’t know what to do with Voth. Should he keep him? He would basically be a free pass throughout the ship. But, there was no way they could manage with him, Murdock and the rocks. If he dropped Murdock, he would be killed on site or strapped down to the table again. Did he really care though? Why should he stick his neck out for the guy who had tried to kill him so many times? Jak tried to think of Murdock as a normal person, and not the giant idiot he really was. He tried to think of what he’d do if it were someone else.

  Cyan had already bumbled her way through the doorway with Murdock, and was waiting for Jak outside. As Jak backed up, Zelus and his soldiers moved forward to keep the distance between them minimized. Jak tightened his grip on the professor and cocked his gun like he was ready to fire.

  Instead, Jak thrust Professor Voth forward and sent him spinning into the room with a harsh kick in the lower back. Before the men could fire, Jak aimed and shot several blasts in succession, obliterating a tray of chemicals and tools into flying shrapnel and hissing fumes.

  While Zelus and his team shielded themselves from the danger, Jak pounded the manual control for the door, closing it in an instant from outside the room. He spun and picked the weapon Cyan had stolen from her belt. Jak spun the controls on the miniature gun, trying to fine tune the adjustments. He quickly found the setting to make the pistol emit a steady energy beam.

  He pulled the trigger and guided the white hot beam along the edge of the metal door, in the seam where the door met the metal frame. The metal quickly began to glow and fuse together. Jak ran the beam up and down the door edge as the gun became hot in his hand, effectively welding the heavy metal door into the frame. The little gun sputtered, died and Jak pitched it down the hallway.

  Jak heard the dull pounding behind the door. However Cartrite’s cronies were going to get out of there, it wouldn’t be through that door. Jak inspected the weld joint. It was hot and solid.

  Turning, Jak finally realized how impossible the task of carting Murdock was going to be, when he saw Cyan being crushed by his slumped body.

  “Come on, let’s go.” Jak threw Murdock’s other arm over his shoulder and started down the shadowy hallway at the fastest pace he could muster. Cyan held the tablet chest under her left arm. Jak held onto the precious pistol with his right hand.

  “Why did you use my gun?” asked Cyan in between deep breaths.

  “Because I didn’t want to ruin mine. It looks way better.”

  After a few minutes of trudging through the corridor, they took a side route, traveling into a quiet area of the ship. There was no one around. Jak spotted a dark room with an open door. He changed their direction and led them inside the room, slapping the door lock as he entered.

  Once inside with the lights on and the door closed, Jak eased his burning shoulder and dropped Murdock against a wall. He fell out of Cyan’s arms and slid down the wall into a pile on the floor. Jak crouched down to get in line with him.

  “God damn it, man!” said Jak, in a furious tone, but with a controlled volume. He slapped Murdock in the face. “Snap out of it. We’ve gotta get moving.” Jak looked into Murdock’s cloudy eyes. He seemed to be slightly more aware than he was in the laboratory, but he was still useless. “If I find out you aren’t knocked out from some kind of drug or something, you’re dead.”

  Jak straightened himself and turned to see Cyan. The room they were in looked like some kind of empty crew quarters. Everything was grey and dull, much like the rest of the ship. Cyan had sat the chest down on a table in the corner of the little room. She pulled one of the plate sized discs out of the chest and ran her fingers along the ridges starring out from the center.

  “So these are them,” said Jak.

  Cyan nodded. “We need to get off this ship.”

  “Well, yes,” said Jak, “that’s what I’m hoping for.”

  “You can’t leave me here,” grunted Murdock from the floor.

  Jak and Cyan turned to look at him. He was conscious enough to be fair game for Jak.

  “Do you realize what you’ve done?” asked Jak.

  Murdock shook his head to gain some composure.

  “Look, I—”

  “Save it, pal. I really don’t want to hear it. We’ve got about one minute before fifty mean bastards bust this door down, so you need to get yourself together — fast. I’ve got you this far and I’m not gonna hold your hand the rest of the way.”

  Murdock used all his energy to spew the words, “You always were the hero.”

  Jak walked back to Murdock and brought him to his feet by the scruff of his filthy collar.

  “What are you saying?” Jak was livid.

  “Hey,” interrupted Cyan. “Calm down. Right now we just have to focus on getting out of here. And Jak’s right. If you don’t get your act together quick, we’re leaving you behind.”

  Jak’s angry face turned into a grin.

  “It’s okay if you don’t listen to me, but I suggest you listen to her, for your own sake.”

  Jak let Murdock go, leaving him barely able to stand on his own.

  “Any plan forming in that head of yours?” asked Cyan.

  “It may be hard to believe, but I’ve got nothing.” Jak took delight in the smile which crossed her face. If he didn’t make it off the ship, he was at least satisfied that he had been able to crack this girl’s shell and create a friendship, however fragile it still was.

  Jak approached and activated a wall mounted computer panel. It provided basic information on the ship and most importantly, a mapped layout of the great maze. The control pad was dusty, showing that this was a less frequented area of the ship.

  “It looks like they built this ship out of ten thousand other ships,” said Jak, reviewing the confusing schematics. Jak pointed to the pertinent locations. “Our ultimate goal should be this docking bay. I passed through it earlier. It is a huge hangar with a whole bunch of fighters just waiting to be stolen. But first, I think we’d better visit here ... or here,” Jak pointed to a couple of locations on the monitor, “to pick up a few things.”

  “You mean guns, I hope.”

  “We do seem to need them a lot.”

  “You’re joking right?” It was Murdock. He had regained his annoyance.

  “Even if you do make it to those fighters, you’ll be blown to bits as soon as you fly out. It’s ridiculous.”

  Cyan spoke first. “Have you got a better idea?” Her tone didn’t suggest she’d be impressed with whatever he came up with.

  “Well, there is no way the three of us can win by strength of arms, while in enemy territory. I suggest we strike a bargain.”

  “For what?”

  “Your precious stones there, for our lives.”

  “Not a chance,” said Cyan. She was beginning to see why Jak felt the way he did about Murdock.

  “It is the only logical choice, miss. We will never get off this ship, especially while we’re in possession of this treasure, which Captain Cartrite seems to want so eagerly. If we make him happy, then I’m confident he will return the favour.”

  �
�Did you think of that while you were strapped down to his operating table?” asked Jak.

  Cyan closed the chest and latched the top. She propped the heavy container under her arm and made it clear she was ready to move along.

  Cyan moved in close to Murdock. “While I understand you’re an expert at weaselling your way out of difficult situations, we’re not giving up that easily.”

  “Pardon me, miss, but I am confident my experience outweighs your own in matters such as this.”

  Cyan didn’t respond. Jak loved seeing it happen to someone else.

  Just as she was about to leave him and proceed to the door, something popped into her head and she turned back to give Murdock a fiery look. “Instead of correcting you and telling you what to call me, I’m just going to make it clear, right now, that I don’t want you to speak to me.” She ended the statement with a smile.

  Cyan walked toward the door, followed by Jak, and Murdock’s dishevelled form.

  “Thanks,” said Jak to Murdock.

  “For what?”

  “You’re making me look so much better.”

  Cyan killed the lights and they made their way back out into the corridor, slowly slinking their way into a maintenance passageway and moving deeper into the dark heart of the Catalyst.