At the end of the Scrapyard

After breakfast, the rest of the platoon headed back to town, with the assurance that we would be able to turn in the jobs whenever they were done after Jack began to scold himself for not heading straight back to New Eden the night before to turn in his jobs. We both accept new ones: Kill 20 Monsters within the Scrapyard, and bring 50 pounds of Scrap to the Engineer for me, and something similar for Jack; though his job was for 100 pounds for a Blacksmith. 

We get through the narrow canyon easily: the bodies of the rats, and the scrap that I had dropped on them have already vanished. I pull out my cord and begin looking around for things to tie it to as we near the place where the rats spawn. 

"Ah, you don't have to worry about that," Aurora said. "After the death of a King the base creature stops showing up for a while." 

"Really?" Jack said as I put away my cord, "This was probably the longest part of our trips into the Scrapyard." 

"Well sorry." I say, "It takes time to cut through iron with a hacksaw." 

"I'm glad you actually got one." Aurora said, "I thought for sure your arrogance would stop you from listening. By the way: why don't you bring your trap-making supplies? You got a whole bundle." 

"It's too burdensome. If I brought it along in my backpack, it would take up nearly the whole thing." 

"That makes sense." She said, "It's more meant for away jobs, and for catching rabbits and the like in case you run out of money for food." 

"Why isn't food free of charge here?" 

"Why should it be? Do you know how hard it is to get most food here? We used to have farms and the like, but the invasions we were talking about earlier put a stop to that." 

"Then why not retake the farms?" 

She scoffed. 

"As if it's that easy. With you fifty — ah, 44 that joined us this month, do you know how many White Company contractees we have?" 

"I see them walking around town." I said, "So it should be plenty." 

"200. Currently, our forces are 200 because that's all the capacity we can stand." 

"Why? Because of food?" 

"Food. Money. Resources. Housing, you name it." Bernard said, "Everything's short. Liam's thinking of beginning the process of reclaiming lost lands." 

"There's something I don't understand." Jack said as we passed by the place where the rats congregated, "You guys are the secondary assault platoon, right?" 

"Yeah." 

"Then is there a first assault platoon?" 

"Well...that was the name of our first group," Bernard said, as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Back then." 

His eyes cast to the ground as if he had recalled something painful. Jack dropped the subject; knowing that pushing it with someone he had just met wouldn't be a good idea. 

"Ah, take a right up here," Aurora said as we near the split in the path. 

"Right? We've been taking the left." I said. 

"The left only leads to a Scrapper nest. This way leads to the end." 

I glanced to Jack and he glanced back and shrugged. I grabbed my bag, still propped up at the end of the path, and set it up at the mouth of the right one so I could remember it on the way back out.

Along the way, we came across a few scrappers and got to see Aurora and Bernard fight up close. Aurora fought with a spear and was surprisingly quick. A group of two Scrappers approached us, and by the time Jack had picked his mace up, her spear had already pierced through the thick carapace. 

Bernard fought at a distance. He carried a wooden stick carved out of some light green wood. I don't know how he did it, but as he pointed to the other scrapper, iron spikes; like those that were used on railroads, formed in the air around it and slammed all into its body. It was dead before either of us could do anything. Both of their hearts were destroyed right away. 

From the right path, we continued, while Aurora and Bernard killed anything that challenged us. Soon the ever-present smell of rust came the smell of salt. Soon, the call of the Rust-wing Crows was replaced by the call of gulls, and the lapping of waves against the shore, and the junk canyon we walked through opened up into a vast sea. Far in the distance, the shadows of the Ice Wall loomed over us, as a rust-red sea lapped against the rusted shores. 

With every ebb and flow of the tide, something else was deposited on the shore. An old toaster, the grill of a car. Each push of the tide shoved it further inland. 

"This is it?" Jack asked. 

"Yes sir. The end of the Scrapyard." 

"I was expecting...I don't know a boss fight. A treasure chest or something." 

"Well, this isn't a video game," Aurora said. 

"So is this where all the junk comes from?" I asked as I looked between the shore and the piles behind me. 

"I don't know if you've noticed, but there's a slight magnetic pull as well, and the piles seem to grow on their own. It's really a mystery that doesn't have an answer." 

"Oh, looks like we're lucky today," Bernard said. 

"What do you mean?" 

"Look out there." He pointed to something cresting out of the water. 

"Is that from a cargo train or something?" Jack asked. 

"Yep. Sometimes goodies like this wash up. They end up...somewhere in the Scrapyard if not claimed, but it's really rare to see something like that wash-up." 

"So what' do you think is in it?" 

"AT that size? Could be anything. Cars. Guns. Tires...something we could sell for good money, I bet." Bernard said as he rubbed his hands together. 

We waited for the C-train to settle. Ten. Twenty. Thirty minutes passed until it was fully on the ground. As soon as it lay still and wouldn't crush any of us, Bernard took out his own prybar and got to work. A heavy, rusted chain and lock held it closed. 

"Oh, we're going to be rich~" Bernard nearly sung. 

Forty. Fifty. Sixty minutes. He pulled at and smashed the lock with his crowbar, until, at last, it opened. Bernard's excitement faded, as the prize inside of the C-train turned out to be rows upon rows of moldering toilet paper packed neatly together.