Junkland (The Hoarding Book 1)

by Patrick Johns

  Leoné nodded and turned to Piller. “So tell me, how are things going along the wall? What are the reports?” Leoné asked anxiously, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the table.

  “Not good, Your Grace,” Piller admitted, not breaking his gaze from Leoné’s hazel eyes.

  Hollow and Arnold turned nervously to Piller.

  Leoné’s face hardened. “What do you mean, not good? I thought things were running smoothly between us and the Retrievers? Has there been an attack?”

  Piller shook his head. “No, Your Grace. Things were running smoothly.” He was trying to figure out the best way to say this without angering him. Leoné had to see reason, he had to understand the situation they were facing.

  “Tell me what’s happening, Piller,” Leoné demanded, slamming his giant fists on the table.

  Hollow and Arnold jumped, alarmed at Leoné’s reaction.

  Piller decided to lay it on the table. “Astenpoole will not survive another year if we keep proceeding this way, Your Grace.”

  Leoné turned away. Piller knew he did not want to hear this, but he had to. He had to see reason.

  Piller continued. “The number of jobs have been diminishing. The number of recorded Retrievers in the Junkland are dropping. There have been sightings of Hoarders getting closer and closer to the castle walls each day, killing the Retrievers. While we stay put inside these walls. The land outside is getting more and more corrupt. Soon there will be no more food to gather, no more water, no more anything as long as these Hoarders are still knocking at our door. We must open the gates. We have to fight for the kingdom. For Astenpoole. For our people. We have to open the—”

  Leoné held up a hand, signaling Piller to stop speaking. “I will not hear any more of this. Opening the gates is not an option. We must find another way around this.”

  “There is no other way, Your Grace,” Hollow spoke up.

  “He’s right, Your Grace,” said Arnold. “Opening the gates is the only way.”

  Leoné let out a grunt of annoyance. “I cannot do that. You know I cannot open the gates. Asha died because—”

  Piller had had enough of the king’s fears about The Sickness. “We all miss Asha, Your Grace. We all know how she died, but you can’t keep blaming people for her death. We all have to move forward and assess the situation at hand. The Sickness has long been over now…and the illness is the least of our worries…”

  “My daughter…” Leoné lowered his head.

  “We all want to see your daughter safe, Your Grace,” Piller assured him. “Benjamin has been doing a fine job of that. But you can’t keep her locked inside the Castle Keep forever. Look at how that is working out! We all know she escapes to go practice sword fighting with Benjamin. She needs to be free, just like the people of Astenpoole. Nothing good will happen when you constrain someone down.”

  “I don’t need parenting advice from you, Sir Piller,” Leoné snapped. “I know how to handle my own daughter.”

  Piller saw the veins bulging in Leoné’s neck. He decided to speak no more on the subject.

  “The gates will remain closed and I expect the three of you to carry out that order to Krist and Martellus upon the wall.” He pointed a finger at the three of them. “Do I make myself clear?” Leoné stared at them through slanted eyes as if trying to see if they would disobey.

  “Yes, Your Grace,” the three said in unison.

  “Good. Now go pass the word along the wall and at the Retrieval Stations. Tell them we need to find another way around this. We must find another way.”

  “Yes, Your Grace,” the three knights said.

  They all turned towards the door and left Leoné hanging his head over his table.

  “How’d he take it?” Devan asked, as they walked out of Leoné’s chamber. Devan had been standing guard outside the door.

  “Not well,” Piller said.

  “By Zalus. What are we to do, Piller?” Devan bit his lip in frustration.

  “I don’t know,” Piller admitted. “I just don’t know.”

  Piller, Arnold, and Hollow left Devan and the King’s Tower. It was early morning, but the sky was dark and there seemed to be no attempt from the sun to push out through the thick layer of clouds. They walked under the Village Gate and headed towards the stables to ready their horses.

  When they arrived at the stables, Piller hopped onto his black horse, the largest horse in the stable. Arnold and Hollow mounted their own horses and followed Piller under the King’s Gate to leave the Castle Keep. They headed towards the Western Gate to spread the news.

  Piller admired the two young knights. They had both grown so much since they joined the Poolesguard. They had worked hard to help Piller design the plan for the Retrieval Stations after the Hoarding. Piller had learned a lot about them during that time.

  Arnold had lived in Northside in a small house with his parents and two brothers. He had lost all of them from The Sickness when he was only a boy of ten. He had joined the King’s Army and had dreamed of becoming a Knight of the Poolesguard.

  Hollow was from Riverside. His parents died when he was a baby and his sister had taken care of him his entire life. But after she had died from The Sickness, Hollow saw no other choice but to join the King’s Army in hopes of becoming a knight of the Poolesguard.

  After The Sickness took the life of Sir Mazo Dapher, and when Sir Landerin Raneir was asked to step down from Captain of the Poolesguard, King Leoné held a tournament in the gardens of Riverside to decide which two knights would fill these spots. The tournament lasted for over a week. Brave men of Astenpoole fought for their chance to become the chosen knights of the kingdom. The end of the tournament resulted in Arnold Beck and Hollow Tryant, both quite young, becoming the two new Knights of the Poolesguard.

  Piller wondered if the Poolesguard was everything Arnold and Hollow had dreamed it was. Piller had definitely been disappointed. When he was their age, he had dreamed of being in the Poolesguard, as well. He had always wanted to become a protector of the kingdom. But now, he wasn’t sure what it meant to be a Knight of the Poolesguard. Two knights were guarding a gate, another knight was babysitting a princess, and he was in charge of building Retrieval Stations. How were these knightly duties? Piller certainly did not feel like a protector of the kingdom. If anything, he felt like he was helping to destroy it.

  “Hey, Captain.”

  Hollow kicked his horse faster to move alongside Piller.

  Piller smiled down at the young knight. “What is it, Hollow?”

  “Do you think the king will come to his senses?” Hollow looked concerned.

  “In opening the gates?”

  Hollow nodded.

  Piller turned to face the Western Gate that they were approaching. The giant wooden doors were bolted together.

  Piller let out a deep sigh. “I hope so.”

  “What do we do?” Arnold spoke to him on his other side.

  “All we can do is follow our orders,” Piller lectured. “That is our duty of being a Knight of the Poolesguard. We must follow out the king’s orders.”

  “Even if we don’t believe in the king’s orders?” asked Hollow.

  They really are growing up fast, thought Piller. “It’s our job to advise the king to make the right decisions, but in the end, we must carry out his orders…whatever they may be.”

  Piller could see Hollow and Arnold were frustrated by this answer. “I know these are hard times for the both of you, and things might not make sense sometimes. It’s a learning process and you both are learning fast.”

  Piller could tell Hollow and Arnold were still not satisfied, but they did not argue.

  They tied their horses up to a post on the side of the road and walked up the steps of the gatehouse until they reached a small wooden door at the top of the tower.

  Knock. Knock. Knock.

  Piller heard yelling from the other side.

  “Are you getting the door?” a voice that sounded like Krist asked. />
  “I thought you were getting it?” another voice that sounded like Martellus questioned.

  “Why do I have to do every thing my damn self?” Piller heard shuffling and then footsteps heading towards the door. “Next time I see Piller, I’m going to have a—”

  The door opened.

  “Ah! Piller! Just the person I was looking for.” Krist smiled and stepped aside, motioning the three of them inside. “Arnold, Hollow, how’re you boys doing?” He slapped the three of them on the back as they entered the room.

  “Are you two getting along?” Piller stepped into the small room. There was a round table in the center piled with papers, books, and mugs. There were two beds bunked on top of each other to the side. A large wheel was facing towards the Western Gate.

  “Barely,” Krist admitted.

  “He can’t get enough of me,” Martellus said, placing down the book he was reading. His legs were on the round table as he leaned back in his chair.

  Krist rolled his eyes. “So, what brings you lot this far west of Astenpoole?”

  “We just met with King Leoné,” Piller said.

  Martellus’s chair fell forward. “What did he say? Did you tell him?”

  “I did,” Piller assured him.

  “How did he take it?” Krist asked curiously.

  Piller rubbed the back of his neck with his hand trying to figure out how to phrase it.

  “Not good,” Arnold stepped in.

  Krist hung his head in disappointment.

  “He’s aware we won’t survive another year?” Martellus asked.

  “He knows,” Piller answered.

  “By Zalus,” Krist looked up at Piller. His eyes were clouded in fear. “What are we to do?”

  “We need to keep following our orders and pray to Zalus we find enough food to last us a lifetime.”

  “A lifetime won’t be very long if we keep these gates shut,” Martellus pointed out.

  “I know. But we don’t have a choice,” said Piller.

  “We can take control,” Krist recommended.

  “Take control?” Piller couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You mean disobey Leoné’s orders? You’re talking about treason!”

  “Look,” Krist was getting frustrated. “Everyone in this castle, hell, everyone who survived the Hoarding knows that Leoné has gone mad. He can’t get over the loss of Asha and he doesn’t want to lose his daughter. That’s all he cares about. He doesn’t care about us, or the people outside the wall or inside it. By Zalus, he doesn’t even care about his own wife, Nadia. Do you know how many people we hear dying every night from on top of these walls? The screams keep me up at night!”

  “He’s right, Piller,” Martellus agreed. “I lie wide awake at night listening to the screams of dying men and women and the blasts from the Hoarders.”

  “We can’t keep living like this,” Krist finished.

  Everyone turned to face Piller, all eyes were on him. What was he to do? He wasn’t about to commit an act of treason. They were still Knights of the Poolesguard.

  “I—”

  Before he could finish speaking, the sound of blasts poured in through the open window across the room. All heads turned to it.

  Krist ran over to the door and flung it open. Piller, Arnold, Hollow, and Martellus followed Krist outside on the wall.

  “Over there!” Krist shouted over the blasts.

  Piller placed his hands on the wall and followed Krist’s finger through the darkness with his eyes. Not too far off from the wall was an inn called The Arcalane, where most of the Retrievers stayed hidden. Piller could make out the inn through gaps in the junk walls. The windows were glowing yellow from the blasts. Piller could hear screams and cries for help.

  “What do we do, Captain?” Hollow yelled over the screams.

  What could they do? They couldn’t open the gates. Nor could they magically jump over the wall to help them. There was nothing they could do.

  “Captain?” Arnold yelled out.

  Piller turned to his men, looking over their nervous faces. “There’s nothing we can do for them. King Leoné has given us his orders. The gates will remain shut.”

  Krist growled in anger. “King Alexander Poole formed the Poolesguard to create knights who were worthy to protect the kingdom. He would have been ashamed of us.”

  Piller had no words for Krist or the rest of the knights. He couldn’t stand there any longer looking at his men’s disappointed faces. Nor could he stand listening to the suffering of the people inside The Arcalane.

  “The gates will remain shut.” Piller turned and walked away from the screams and blasts that hung in the air.

  Chapter 23

  Jahrys

  THERE WAS FIRE in his head when Jahrys woke. He placed a hand on his forehead as he lifted himself from the floor. It felt like a knife was splitting his head open. I really need to stop drinking, he thought as he looked around, trying to remember where he was. He was in a large room, but there was no furniture. An empty bottle of wine lay next to his legs. A few red drops had dripped out onto the floor, staining the wood dark red. Light was seeping in through the window. How long did I sleep for? It was all blurry to him. All he remembered was Kevrin—

  Jahrys jumped to his feet. “Kevrin?” he shouted. But there was no answer.

  He ran into the kitchen, keeping his head low because of the collapsing ceiling. Kevrin wasn’t there. He searched the wreckage of his old home, every inch, but found no sign of his friend.

  He went back to the living room, pacing in circles, unable to make a decision. He didn’t know if he should wait here for him to show up or head back to The Arcalane. Where could he have gone?

  Suddenly, there was a voice from outside.

  “Over here!”

  Jahrys leaned against the front window in the living room, staying out of view of the road. He peaked through. There were two Hoarders, and one had black stripes on his helmet. It’s him, thought Jahrys.

  “Are you sure it’s this one?” the other Hoarder asked.

  “I’m positive,” the black-striped Hoarder replied.

  Sweat began to soak Jahrys’s suit. He clipped on his helmet and attached his Captor Pack to his back and his Captor to the tube. He then tied his bag around his waist.

  Should he stay and fight or turn and run? If he ran now, he could make it through the back door and head to The Arcalane. But he couldn’t just leave Kevrin. However, he had no clue where he had gone. And this could be the only chance he had to get his revenge on the black-striped Hoarder; the one who had killed his parents.

  Feet crunched on loose debris as the Hoaders walked up to the doorless frame.

  Jahrys’s breathing echoed inside his helmet. He could feel his heart pounding under his suit. He clenched his Captor tightly with both hands as he watched the Hoarder’s Captors poke through the doorway.

  He couldn’t do it.

  He ran.

  “There he is!” A Hoarder yelled out behind him.

  Captor blasts suddenly filled the room. A blast exploded into the wall to his right as he flung himself forward. He ducked. A second blast exploded by his feet, sending him flying into the empty kitchen. He hit the broken tile floor hard. His Captor slipped from his grasp and slid across the tile.

  Jahrys reached a hand out and grabbed the tube, yanking it towards him. The Captor slid back. He grabbed it, turned, and pressed hard on the top trigger.

  There was a moan as his blue blast hit the right Hoarder in the shoulder. The Hoarders ducked behind the wall, taking cover as Jahrys continued to fire, keeping them pinned behind the wall.

  Still firing, Jahrys used his free hand and legs to push his way towards the back door. He was inching closer and closer to the door. He kept firing his Captor, because he knew once he stopped, they would be upon him again.

  Jahrys pressed down on the trigger again and a low hiss sounded from the tip of his Captor. Dammit, I thought it was fully charged! He didn’t hesitate. Jahry
s jumped to his feet, clipping the Captor to his hip. He sprinted and flung himself through the back door. Captor blasts exploded against the doorframe as the Hoarders followed him.

  Jahrys zig-zagged across the destroyed yard, praying to Zalus the Hoarders continued to miss. He dodged junk blocks and loose debris as he ran.

  “He’s getting away,” one of the Hoarders yelled behind him.

  There was a sound of marching footsteps behind him. When he cleared the back fence, heading away from his home and Zalus Road, he took a quick glance over his shoulder. There were now dozens of Hoarders piling around the house, shooting at him.

  Jahrys sprinted up a side road where junk walls towered over him. Captor blasts flew past his head, exploding into the walls and sending clouds of debris and junk blocks into the air. His vision was limited. His heart was pounding in his chest as he continued to twist and turn through the maze of walls, trying to lose them. He ran faster than he had ever run before. His legs felt like they were flying beneath him. His only thought was to make it back to The Arcalane to warn the others and hopefully find Kevrin.

  The path opened to the Seaport River, but that didn’t slow him down. He leapt out over the river and landed on a broken boat. He jumped again, towards the other side. He fell into the cold water but was able to grab onto the ledge of the dock on the side of a road. He felt the current swing his legs towards the castle. Captor blasts exploded inches from his hands and he decided to let go, letting the current take him back towards The Arcalane.

  Jahrys crashed through the door to the inn, soaking wet. “Willem! Help! Kevrin—Hoarders—”

  He stopped.

  He took off his helmet to rub his eyes and make sure they weren’t playing tricks on him. He couldn’t believe what he saw. The Arcalane was destroyed. One of the pillars in the center of the room had collapsed. The tables were scattered and broken. Shards of glass were on the floor. There was blood everywhere. It covered the walls, the floor, the bar, everything.

  “Willem?” Jahrys shouted. “Gabe? Tarl? Kat? Miller? Ebanie?” There was no answer, only an eerie silence.