Rise

Chapter Four: The Junkyard

The walk through the desolate fields felt longer than it actually was, thanks to the heat of the afternoon sun that bore down upon Matt's back. He often felt tempted to remove his shirt to cool off but he knew better. With the ozone layer nearly depleted, he'd fry within minutes, and he didn't pack enough sunscreen to last the trip if it was used for his whole body. Occasionaly taking a sip from one of the water bottles he had packed, Matt trudged on, keeping his eyes peeled for any landmarks. The map had shown something his father had labelled as 'The Junkyard' but Matt wasn't sure if that was another town or just a literal pile of garbage. The haze over the land did make it difficult to make anything out over great distances but it didn't bother Matt. He figured going west was good enough for the time being.

Matt gripped the metal of the multi-tool, currently using it as a walking stick. The rod was surprisingly cool to the touch, which made Matt wonder what his father had done to make it that way. Most metal articles got hot extremely quickly out in the sun. Even the citizens of Scrap Metal had to take care not to touch the parts of their homes that had been exposed to the sun all day, in fear of burns. Matt was thankful for whatever it was that his father did, since he did not have to worry about burning himself with his own belongings.

The hours passed by as Matt marched, maintaining his westward bearing. The sun was directly above him when he noticed a wavering shape on the horizon. He stopped moving and squinted his eyes, unsure if the vision was truth or merely a mirage. Narrowing his eyes had little effect on the distorted sight but he refused to become frustrated. Retrieving the map from his bag he tried to track his progress and guessed that he was close to the junkyard that was depicted. He had planned to walk through and see if there was anything interesting since it was the only landmark for a few square miles, making it an obvious choice to break the boredom that weighed down upon his journey.

It wasn't long before Matt's feet stepped beyond the rusted chain link fence that surrounded the junkyard, transporting him to a land of brown mountains and musty valleys. He wrinkled his nose at the smell but was not deterred for he refused such an oppourtunity to search for useful salvage. If he could find anything fixable or raw materials for building and repairing, he would be able to sell it in town. And money is good for all sorts of things, Matt thought as he began to scan the tall heaps of trash.

Matt only planned on walking through the junkyard, pickung up items of interest as he moved. He did not want to waste time searching for anything special when he expected the place had already been picked clean by looters and treasure hunters. The walk through the scrapyard was merely to maintain Matt's sanity, for he felt the endless brown fields of dry grass would soon send him over the edge. A change of scenery was welcome, even if it didn't consist of anything particularly pleasing to look at.

The boy passed mounds of rusted metal and decaying husks of planes, cars and trains, all stacked up and left to die. He walked for a good twenty minutes and did not notice any items of interest but he didn't mind. Just passing through something that did not consist of grass and dirt made him happy enough, even replacing some of his will to move. There had been times out in the plains where he had thought of sitting down and resting for a while, but he needed only to conjure up an image of Rose to get him moving again. He was glad to not have to resort to that tactic there.

A faint sound of barking and occasional growling tore Matt from his quiet reflection. He tensed up, preparing himself for the possibility of an attack from a feral dog. Gripping his metal walking stick tightly, he advanced down the rusted canyon, alert and wary. The sound seemed to be coming from one of the mounds a little further down the path. Matt contemplated his options. He had half a mind to investigate, even though his more rational side warned against it. Walking forwards slowly, Matt decided to check the sound out, hoping his walking stick would be enough of a weapon if things went sour.