SWAB (A Young Adult Dystopian Novel) (2 page)

That was when I came up with a plan. Mr. Blackwell would be expecting me—and I should have gone back—but then the water was before me and the men had left a boat behind that they didn’t need. I looked across the glistening water to the looming hills that surrounded the lake on every side.
Ray.
The tiny rowboat was beside the huge hand-made barge we used to transport the fire trucks back and forth to the island. I hopped in the rowboat and happily wrapped my fingers around the oars.
Looks like I won’t be going back to class today. Let Cassandra spit out as many bad ideas as she wants.

I tied the boat up on the opposite shore. It didn’t take me long to find the workers. The sound of men shouting and the hum of our one working chainsaw led me right to where they were felling trees. The tall ponderosa pines would be of great use to the community. Though there were trees on the island, we avoided cutting them down; they helped conceal us. The real reason the scarb wouldn’t attack us there, though, was the lake. They would be hard-pressed to get at us with so much water around. Their plated chitin clammed up just like a beetle when they got wet enough, so we were pretty safe there.

Three hundred people currently lived on the island. Our biggest challenge was resources: food, supplies, medicine, that sort of stuff.
Going off-island like this was dangerous but often necessary. I wasn’t worried. We were still a long way from the closest scarb colony, but it always set Ray on-edge. He gave me a stern look with his dark brown eyes as soon as he saw me.

“Ditching class?” he asked, the sun rippling on his bare back as he tied a thick rope around the base of a fallen tree.

“I have more important things to do,” I replied and grabbed another rope to help.

“Of course you do,” he sighed. Sweat ran down his sun-darkened skin.

I put my hands on my hips in a pout. “Don’t treat me like I’m your kid sister.”

He just laughed. “Stop acting like a kid.”

“You know you love me,” I said slyly.

“You’re right.”He scooped me in his arms and planted a kiss on my lips. “I do.”

His cheeks were sweaty. “Gross!” I exaggerated, wiping the sweat on his chest, which was only sweatier.

“How come they give you useful stuff to do, and I’m stuck in grade school?”

He poked the tip of my nose with his finger. “Guess that’s what they do with babies.”

I stuck my bottom lip out. “Nathan’s the baby, and even he’s out on a scouting mission. I’m supposed to be the big sister doing important things. It’s time to set it right,” I said, seriously.

Using a sailor’s knot, I tied the rope around the opposite end of the log. Ray called some of the other men over to help haul the log down to the boats, but before they got to us, I whispered to him, “I’m going back to the saddle tonight.”

His brown eyes narrowed. “Cat, don’t.”

I tried to keep my voice from rising. “Ray, I have to. The fire trucks have been down three weeks now. I can get the parts back, but not if I’m stuck in preschool all day.”

The men were almost there. “I really don’t think you should,” he said.
Does he doubt I can do it?
That just made me want to do it even more.

“Well, even if you don’t come with me, I’m going.”
Please come. Please come.

His red lips pressed together in a tight line. Two other men asked him to grab the rope so they could haul the log down to the boats. “Just a minute,” he answered. Then he took me by the shoulders and walked us behind a large pine, just out of earshot.

“Listen, Cat,” he whispered, his breath tickling the tiny hairs on my cheek. “These guys,” he jutted his head in the direction of the working men, “are the best thing that’s ever happened to us. We have a measure of
safety
here. I don’t want to do anything to mess that up. What happened last time—” Ray ran his hand through his hair. “They can’t just overlook that. We need to play it safe and
do what they say.”

My heart seemed to weigh a hundred pounds, and it sank down into my shoes.

“So, you’re choosing them over me?” I tried to keep my voice steady, but it betrayed me. “I’m just trying to get the plan back on track, the plan they made,” I nodded toward the men to show him we were on the same side. “We have to get those parts back.”

Ray nodded. “Officer May and two scouts are planning to recover them this Friday.”

“Friday?” I whispered back harshly. “I can get them back
tonight.
Don’t you see how important it is that I fix this? I don’t want the others to recover them. I want to be the one to make it right.”

He ran his fingers through his shaggy black hair. That was a good sign; he was conflicted.
Just a little more, and I can seal the deal
.
I spoke lowly and deeply to convey how much I needed him. “Please, help me.”

He held his breath a few moments, looking at me like I was a puzzle he couldn’t solve. Then, he let out a big whoosh of air. With a quick glance back at the men, he leaned in and whispered into my ear. “Fine, Cat, I’ll go with you. But we’ve got to be careful.”

“Good, I’ll see you tonight.”

*****

I packed a few vital things I would need for my journey up to the saddle that night. An LED flashlight and two extra batteries—I might
as well have been carrying gold—I shoved two protein bars deep into my pockets, as well as Mrs. Weatherstone’s homemade granola wrapped in a plastic pouch that originally held the stakes of our tent, and a small canteen of water. I put on my hiking boots and put my father’s old leather work gloves. They still smelled faintly like the grass that used to grow in our yard.

Good. But not enough.
I needed a knife. They kept them in the Post. That meant getting in and out without being noticed. Even an idiot would know what I was up to, and then the whole thing would be over.
More classes with Mr. Blackwell for me
.
Running my hands down my pants leg, I tried to set that thought aside and focus on my mission.

That’s what really matters,
I told myself. I caught my reflection in the small mirror Nathan had hung from the side of my two-man tent. My light, sky-blue eyes gazed back at me, hard and focused under the fan of my black eyelashes. Defined cheekbones gave my face a sharper look to it than the round, girlish one I used to have.
Like a hawk.
I sighed and puffed my cheeks out with air to try and see the person I once was; the one that might’ve been called pretty if life hadn’t made me so jagged.

The air whooshed out of my cheeks, and I tucked my blonde hair back into a low ponytail. It had grown long and ragged.
I’ll have to ask Mrs. Weatherstone to cut it short for me
.
Like a pixie. That’ll look hot
.
I had to tighten my belt by another ring.
My figure was diminishing more and more every day. I could’ve look like Cassandra if I sat around the island all day eating wild strawberries and never exerting myself beyond a brief sparring session. All curves and cleavage. But then I couldn’t kick a roundhouse as well. Or run seven miles without stopping for breath.
No, I’ll keep this body
.
But I did pull on the straps of my bra to help lift the goods I had and unbuttoned the collar of my shirt.
Better.

I ducked out of the two-man tent, and made my way quickly through the hovels, but after what happened three weeks ago, there seemed to be a target on my back. Mrs. Needler gave me a wary eye as she shook a rug outside her hut.
I’m not the enemy here. Soon, I’ll show everyone I’m not as worthless as they think I am.
Annoyed, I picked up the pace and weaved my way through the last row of hovels. It was then that I saw Mr. Davin coming out of his tent carrying a tray of dirty dishes to bring to the lake for washing. His right arm struggled to balance the toppling load while his left arm hung uselessly at his side.
Crap.

It’s all my fault.
Three weeks ago, Mr. Davin had gone on the mission to Durango to get parts to fix the trucks. Everyone was ready to head back as soon as we had found what we needed, but I had insisted on checking an old gas station for fuel. I was hoping to find a good stash to supplement the vegetable oil fuel we had to make by hand in Rimerock to power the trucks. Officer Reynolds thought it was a foolish effort; I couldn’t stand the thought of fuel just sitting there. I pushed the issue, and Mr. Davin agreed to come with me for protection. As soon as Mr. Davin and I got the cover off the fuel tank, we were attacked by two scarb. We chased them off, but one stabbed Mr. Davin’s arm. To make it even worse, the scarb tracked our group back down as we left Durango. They brought about fifteen more scarb with them and we were forced to abandon the heavy packs of parts on the mountainside just to escape them.
If I hadn’t insisted on checking for fuel in Durango, the scarb wouldn’t have found us. We’d still have the parts for the trucks, and Mr. Davin would still have the use of his arm.

Mr. Davin didn’t see me walking by. I should’ve offered to help him with his dishes, but all I really wanted to do was get away as quickly as I could. Guilt wasn’t something I handled well. So, I
ducked behind General May’s tent and sped across the town to the Post.

Only a few soldiers were talking outside while stirring the pot we used to make homemade fuel from vegetable oil. They were younger guys, so not really important. I slipped in through the back door. The Post was hot and musty inside. Barrels of drinking water, crates of food, and several shelves of tools made up the bulk of the supplies. I walked past these to the far back corner. Several rifles with boxes of ammunition were set up high. We used them to hunt deer, elk and bear.

I wish I could use one against the scarb.
But the guns were useless. Their plated chitin was too tough. Bullets might penetrate, but wouldn’t do significant damage. Our knives worked well in breaking through the weaker points at their joints. I slipped a nine-inch one of these into my boot.

“Going for the goods, huh?”

I jumped and turned to see Ray suppressing a laugh. “I saw you trying to sneak in here. You’re so predictable, you know.”

“Shhhh,” I scowled, and threw a sheathed knife at him. “You’re going to want one of these too.”

Ray strapped it to his belt. “Not taking chances after last time?”

“No, I’m not,” I answered seriously. “The scarb are getting closer and closer. We’ve got to put an end to it. The island won’t keep us safe forever.”

Ray grinned and gave my arm a playful punch. “My little war diva.”

“Whatever,” I rolled my eyes. “Come on, let’s get out of here before anyone finds out what we’re up to.”

Ray followed me around the tins of dried food and whispered, “A diva with a plan. Impressive.”

Luckily, the strip of grass behind the Post was empty, and we slipped into the protection of the forest unnoticed. Ray and I didn’t speak until we were in a row boat and far from the peering eyes on the island.

“You’re really crazy, you know,” Ray said with a low laugh as he dipped the oars into the cool water. I was on the opposite bench, facing him. “If Reynolds or May or any of others finds out…”

“Then they’ll just have to commend me for my bravery,” I sneered, cutting him off, then added, “Oh, and get me out of daycare. I’m sure Mr. Blackwell will miss me so much.” My sarcasm carried off in the chill evening breeze. A still silence fell between us. “You’re really that worried about what
they
think?” I scoffed, not pretending to hide my jealousy.

Ray spoke slowly and low. “They’re the closest thing I have to family now.”

That really cut at my chest. “What about Nathan and me?”

He tossed his long black hair out of his eyes. “Well, of course I have you two, but it’s different with them. They provide us with stability, direction, even a bit of God-forsaken hope.”

I let that sink like a weight into the deep waters that seemed to separate us more and more each day. For a while, only the sound of the dipping paddles and the hum of fireflies on the water reached our ears. Finally, I dared to say what’d been on mind these past weeks. “I wish we could go back to the way things were.”

My words couldn’t have been louder than a whisper, but Ray heard me perfectly. His instant anger surprised me. “What? Scraping for food every day? Wiping scarb blood off our hands?” He shook his head. “Not me. We have security here.”

“But we’re not the same,
” I say softly. He doesn’t disagree.

We reached the shore and began the long ascent into the forest. The shady ponderosa pines gave way to shimmery aspen groves just as
the sun started setting behind the rocky peaks. We knew the majority of our journey would happen at night, but I was reluctant to let those last rays of golden light go.

Ray checked his compass. “Just two more hours north, and we should reach the saddle.” The sight of Ray in his gear, compass in hand as the sun set upon the lines of his face, made me smile, despite myself.
You’re the only stability I need,
I thought.
How can I show you that?

We climbed a steep field of tree-less boulders to ten-thousand feet, then twelve. A half-moon provided good light, covering the boulders in a gray blanket. A dip between two fourteen-thousand foot peaks, the saddle was the easiest pass into the range beyond. It was where we’d abandoned our backpacks on our last venture.

The climb in the dark took longer than we had anticipated, but we reached the top of the saddle just after midnight.

Ray consulted his compass. “The packs are further to the west.”

“I don’t think so. I swear they’re north in an alcove of bushes.”