Junkland (The Hoarding Book 1)

by Patrick Johns

  Chapter 42

  Piller

  HE COULD FEEL Devan’s arm starting to loosen and slip. Piller dug his fingers deeper into Devan’s wrist.

  “I got you! Hang on!” Piller yelled over the noise of the battle behind them.

  “I hope that wasn’t your attempt of a joke.” Devan yelled up at Piller, while his feet dangled in the air above the ground.

  “Captain, behind you!”

  Four Hoarders, two on either side of Piller, were making their way down the length of the wall towards them.

  “Quick, give me your other hand!” Piller yelled.

  Devan reached up with his injured left arm; he had been hit by a Captor blast from below. He barely got it half-way into the air when it collapsed back down to his side. “I can’t reach you. Save yourself and get that gate open!”

  “I’m not letting you go.” I will not let you go. I’m not losing another brother. Piller gripped him tighter, but his hand was sweaty. He could feel Devan slipping.

  “I’m ready to go beyond the Western Mountains. I’m ready to see my family again. It’s okay. Open the gate and save Astenpoole, my captain.” He winked at him and smiled.

  Devan released his hand from Piller’s. Piller tried to tighten it again, but it was no use. Devan fell to the ground below, never taking his eyes off his captain, his smile never faltered.

  “No!” Piller yelled, as he watched Devan fall.

  The Hoarders were almost upon him. Filled with rage, he picked up his shield and took out his sword. He charged at the two Hoarders closest to the Village Gate. He raised his shield to cover himself. The heat from their blasts burned his arm, but they hadn’t hit him yet. He kept running. Piller collided into the Hoarder on the right, knocking him off his feet. He turned and swung his sword, slicing the second Hoarder’s stomach. His insides spilled out onto the stone floor. Piller then spun around, plunging his sword into the first Hoarder’s throat.

  He quickly turned around and ducked behind his shield to protect himself from more Captor blasts.

  “Ah!” he yelled as a blast grazed his shoulder. His shield lowered, but he did not let it go.

  Piller dropped his sword and reached out for the Captor that was lying on the ground by his side, but it was just out of reach. His shield was shaking from the Captor blasts that were hitting it. His shoulder stung, but he kept reaching.

  The other two Hoarders were getting closer. Piller stretched again and tried to tug the Captor with a single finger, but it was no use. His shield continued to vibrate. His arm felt like it was on fire now. Piller decided to dive forward, grabbing the Captor and holding his shield up. He raised the Captor and pressed down on the top trigger and fired. He fired again and again and again. But missed each time. He took a second to breathe. You can do this Piller. You can do this. He focused his aim, concentrating on his target. He fired again at the Hoarder on the right, hitting him in the stomach, causing him to fall to the ground. He then turned to the final Hoarder and fired. The blast hit the Hoarder in the head and he collapsed backwards.

  Piller dropped his shield. He released the Captor from the tube and continued to run to the gatehouse.

  Chapter 43

  Jahrys

  ALANA’S ARMY HAD piled out of the gatehouse. The plan was working. They had caught the Hoarders off guard. It looked like the battle was going their way, even though they were outnumbered five to one.

  Jahrys continued to dodge swords and blasts as he pushed his way towards the fountain. He had to get to their leader, he had to avenge his mother and father.

  He ducked from a sword that almost took his head off. He turned and swung his sword at the Hoarder. There was a loud clang as the Hoarder caught Jahrys’s blow with his own sword. Jahrys pushed forward. His calf was stinging even more, but he ignored it. He suddenly stepped back, releasing his weight. The Hoarder stumbled forward. Jahrys took the butt of his sword and smashed it into the Hoarder’s helmet. The Hoarder fell and Jahrys continued to run to the fountain.

  He was almost at the black-striped Hoarder.

  When he arrived at the fountain, he sheathed his sword. He hoisted himself onto the marble platform, struggling with the weight of his Captor Pack on his back.

  He circled over to the Village Gate side, approaching their leader. He unclipped his Captor from his hip and held it firmly with both hands.

  As he ran towards the Hoarder with black stripes, Jahrys raised his Captor and fired. The Hoarder ducked as the blasts soared over his head. Jahrys continued to shoot, but the Hoarder predicted his every move. When Jahrys fired again, there was a hiss from his Captor. No! I can’t be out. Jahrys checked the light on his Captor; the color had disappeared.

  Jahrys looked up to see a yellow blast flying right at his chest.

  Jahrys dove into the water just in time to avoid the blast. He heard it explode against the marble of the platform before he hit the water.

  It felt like a wall had hit him. The water was cold and deep. He tried to swim, but his Captor Pack was weighing him down. He couldn’t unclip it, though; he needed it to recharge his Captor. Struggling, he eventually swam towards the statue in the center.

  Jahrys found the surface and lifted himself up onto the platform of the statue, wrapping his arm around Zalus’s left leg as he regained himself. His balance was off with the pack heavy on his back. His sword was still in its scabbard, and his Captor was hanging at his feet by its tube. Jahrys picked up his Captor.

  Jahrys searched for the black-striped Hoarder. He found him, but he could barely see him through the misty cloud that had formed from the waterfall. Jahrys unclipped his helmet to get a better look.

  The mist suddenly glowed yellow. Jahrys, with an ill feeling, ducked behind Zalus’s marble leg. The blast collided into it, shattering the leg into pieces. The statue managed to stay upright, however.

  The mist glowed yellow once again as a second blast was fired. Jahrys dove behind the other leg. The blast missed and disappeared into the water. Jahrys breathed heavily as he tried to collect himself. He raised his Captor, aiming it at the debris of what remained of Zalus’s shattered leg. He pressed down on the lower trigger. His Captor Pack began to shake and the loose stone around him clattered against the marble platform.

  There was a deep, low hum.

  VHRUUUUMMMM.

  A blue beam shot out and encompassed the debris of the statue. It disappeared and flowed through the tube, into the Captor Pack. Energy flowed back into Jahrys’s Captor.

  He stepped around the still standing leg and raised his Captor to eye level. He saw the yellow suit through the misty cloud. He fired. But missed the Hoarder.

  CRACKKK.

  The fighting in the courtyard stopped for a split second. Everyone turned to the noise. The Village Gate was being lifted. By Zalus, they did it!

  Jahrys ran around the platform of the statue, trying to find a clearing from the mist. He found it and saw the black-striped Hoarder was distracted by the gate. He aimed his Captor at the Hoarder’s chest and fired. The blast shot out and flew across the water, colliding into the black-striped Hoarder. He flew away from the fountain and was lost in the sea of yellow Hoarders.

  Jahrys let out a long breathe.

  He looked around for his helmet, but it was gone.

  He swam back to the edge of the fountain. He had difficulty lifting himself up and over the platform because his suit was soaked and heavy. Jahrys detached the Captor from the tube and unclipped his Captor Pack; he felt much lighter now. He threw his Captor onto the platform and hoisted himself up and out of the fountain.

  He picked up his Captor and gazed across the battlefield towards the Village Gate. Now we just need Benjamin to blow the King’s Horn and open the King’s Gate. We need more help. As he was looking at the open gate, something else caught his eye. Two Hoarders were dragging someone through it: Alana.

  Chapter 44

  Piller

  THE KING’S HORN echoed throughout Astenpoole: once, twice
, thrice.

  AHWOOO. AHWOOO. AHWOOO.

  Yes, he did it! We’re almost there! Piller thought as he gazed out of the window of the gatehouse tower. The Village Gate was open, the King’s Horn was blown, and now it was up to Benjamin to get the King’s Gate open.

  Piller saw the horn, lying out in the open above the King’s Gate on the wall. But there was no one there now.

  Benjamin was running back towards the gatehouse. Five Hoarders were also running towards it on the opposite side of Benjamin. If he doesn’t get that gate open, we’re done for.

  He saw Benjamin fly through the door. There was yelling and the sound of struggling—then silence. Come on Ben! The seconds ticked by. Piller’s heart was racing. His eyes never left the gate. The five Hoarders were about to enter the gatehouse from the opposite side.

  CRACKKK.

  The gate opened. The two large oak doors swung inward. Yes! Good work, B—

  “AHHH!” A scream came from the gatehouse.

  Piller heard shouts and the sound of struggling.

  Benjamin limped out of the door he had entered. He was wounded, and three Hoarders were right behind him.

  Piller saw the middle Hoarder raise his Captor, finger ready on the bottom trigger.

  There was a deep, low hum.

  VHRUUUUMMMM.

  A yellow beam shot out and encompassed Benjamin.

  “No!” Piller cried, shielding his eyes.

  Benjamin’s shrieks could be heard after he disappeared.

  Piller was stunned; he had lost another brother. Why had that Hoarder not killed him first like all the others? I must put an end to this.

  The sound of marching feet brought Piller back to reality. He looked back towards the now open King’s Gate.

  They have come, thought Piller. The people have heard the horn.

  But it wasn’t people of Astenpoole entering the Castle Keep. It was more Hoarders.

  Piller’s heart dropped. No. This cannot be. Where are the people of Astenpoole? The ones fighting outside the Castle Keep?

  Piller heard screaming from below the Village Gate. He looked out towards the Great Hall. He saw two Hoarders dragging Alana up the grand staircase towards the giant double doors.

  Piller didn’t hesitate. He dropped his shield and ran down the steps of the tower. At the bottom floor, he took out the Captor from his belt and flung himself out into the courtyard. He ran towards the Great Hall.

  “Alana!” he yelled over the noise from the battle. He dodged Captor blasts from the approaching army of Hoarders that were marching through the King’s Gate.

  Piller lifted his heavy legs as he climbed the great steps—Captor still in hand. He ran past the small courtyard and the fountain. He was out of breathe when he reached the double doors. But he didn’t stop. He wrapped two hands around the large handles, thrusting them open.

  “AH!” Piller groaned, as a pain spread in his lower back. He felt something warm sliding into his stomach. He looked down.

  A sword was protruding out. He watched it as it slowly disappeared. He placed a hand where the steel had just been, taking a step back. Blood seeped through the cracks between his fingers.

  Chapter 45

  Jahrys

  THE OAK DOORS slammed shut behind Jahrys. The sound of the battle faded instantly. No more screams, clashing of swords, or blasts from Captors—just silence.

  Jahrys took a few steps forward. His feet echoed off the black and white marble floor. He was in the Hall of Heroes. Paintings of all the past kings lined the walls around him, along with paintings of the bravest knights. All the knights Jahrys had so admired and looked up to were now looking down on him. Would he, one day, be placed on that wall? Did he even want to be placed on that wall anymore?

  King Leoné’s portrait hung on a stone pillar in the center of the room. The king’s hard face looked straight at him. His last words rang through Jahrys’s head. ‘Protect Alana,’ he had said. I will not let you down, King Leoné!

  Jahrys held his Captor firmly in his hands as he looked down the hall, his sword ready at his hip. There was a trail of blood leading to the throne room. He followed it.

  All his life, Jahrys had just been a boy from Palor, who helped in his father’s shop. He then became a mediocre Retriever. But today, he wasn’t those things—today he was O’Jahrys Grent, and he was ready to face whatever fate had in store for him at the end of the hall.

  As he got closer and closer to the door, he felt his heart racing inside his chest. He tried to tighten his grip on his Captor to stop it from shaking, but it only made it worse. He wiped his sweaty brow and pushed his hair out of his eyes. His muscles felt tight underneath his suit.

  There was an echo from behind him. It sounded like the door was opening. He snapped around, but couldn’t see who had entered. He kept moving, running down the hall.

  He pushed open the door and ran into the throne room. A beautifully designed balcony wrapped around the room, complementing the high ceiling with archways. Pillars raised the balcony, each intricately carved. Archways were underneath the balcony and a black and white marble floor glistened like the sea in the center of the room. Jahrys’s eyes followed the trail of blood on the white marble path that led to the grand staircase before him.

  He heard shuffling. Hoarders appeared from doors off to the side, and stood under the archways, raising their Captors and pointing them directly at him. Jahrys stopped in the center of the room—he was surrounded.

  “Jahrys! Get out of here!” Alana was standing on top of the stairs, next to a giant throne that resembled a wave.

  “Alana—” Jahrys took a step forward.

  “Not another step.” A blade appeared at Alana’s throat. Nadia’s white face came into view behind Alana’s left shoulder. Nadia was holding her staff in her left hand, across Alana’s body—constraining her.

  Tears were rolling down Alana’s cheeks. “Please Jahrys! Run! Before—”

  “Silence!” Nadia pressed the knife deeper into her throat.

  “Ahhh!” Alana screamed, as a thin line of blood started to drip from her throat.

  Jahrys raised his Captor, pointing it at Nadia. I don’t have a clear shot. I can’t hit Alana! He held his fire.

  “Love…what a beautiful thing…,” Nadia pressed the blade deeper into Alana’s flesh.

  Alana let out another scream.

  Jahrys’s insides turned. His finger was trembling over the trigger.

  Nadia smiled, “…until it betrays you.”

  Jahrys watched as the blade slid across Alana’s throat. Blood spilled out, covering her neck.

  “NO!” Jahrys cried.

  Alana gagged and fell to the floor, clutching her throat. Blood seeped through her fingers as she struggled.

  Nadia only laughed. The knife in her hand was dripping blood as she kicked Alana down the steps.

  Alana rolled down the stairs until she landed on the white marble path. Alana was clutching her neck, choking. Blood was spilling rapidly from her throat.

  Jahrys clipped his Captor to his hip and ran to her. He fell to his knees in the puddle of blood and lifted her up. He rested her head in his arm, trying to stop the blood with his other hand.

  “Don’t worry! I got you, Alana. Everything will be all right. Everything—”

  But Alana was gagging on the blood, her eyes unfocused.

  Jahrys watched helplessly as the blood continued to pour out of her neck. He watched as she struggled, looking up with frightened, dull eyes. The veins around her face looked like they were about to burst.

  Jahrys felt helpless. “Don’t leave me, Alana! Don’t leave…” His tears fell on her neck. “I won’t let you go.”

  The gagging ceased. Jahrys felt Alana’s body go limp and still. Her eyes were now lifeless. Her head lolled to the side, into his chest.

  “No!” Jahrys screamed. He could feel the insides of his stomach creeping towards his throat. Everything wanted to come out.

  He groaned as h
e placed Alana down. He rose to his feet, grabbing his Captor and raising it. He clenched the handle in anger, aiming it at Nadia. He began to squeeze his finger down on the top trigger—

  Nadia raised her staff.

  Jahrys’s finger froze, along with his entire body. He tried to pull the trigger, but he couldn’t move. He felt like a statue.

  Jahrys felt wet tears pooling in his eyes, but they refused to move, to fall down his cheeks.

  He watched Nadia descend the steps. Her black cloak trailed behind her. Her face and hands were stained in blood. She stopped at the very last step—in front of Alana’s dead body.

  “I have sacrificed myself for love, Jahrys.” Nadia looked directly at him with her yellow eyes. “I sacrificed eighteen years of my life and did things I will regret. And I did it all for love. And you know what happened?”

  Jahrys couldn’t speak.

  “Love betrayed me.” A tear ran down Nadia’s cheek.

  Nadia looked down at Alana’s body. “You don’t need her, Jahrys. She would only have blinded you from what you truly are. You need to face your destiny. Because when you do, we can make peace in this world together. We can stop the Red Sorceress when she comes over those mountains!”

  Nadia turned to the Hoarders. “Kevrin,” she called.

  A Hoarder walked over, taking off his helmet.

  “Yes, Mother?” Kevrin bowed down to her.

  “Finish her.” Nadia waved a hand over Alana’s body.

  Kevrin hesitated.

  “Do it for Elyara.”

  Kevrin nodded. He lifted his Captor and pointed it at Alana’s body.

  NO! Jahrys screamed but he couldn’t move his lips. He felt the ground shake beneath him as he stayed frozen in place. He couldn’t let Kevrin do this to Alana, even if she was gone. He had to break free.