SWAB (A Young Adult Dystopian Novel) (4 page)

“Scarb!” Ray shouted, now noticing her as well. He knocked me to the ground just as the female leapt off the branch at us. She collided with Ray’s chest, sending him flying into the trunk of another aspen. His head hit with a thunk, and his body slumped to the grass.

“Ray!” I screamed and ran three steps toward him, but the scarb whipped her tendrils out, tripping me. I caught myself on the wet blades of grass and launched a back kick at her like I’d been trained to, but she was too fast. My heel made contact with only air.
Curse her!

Ray was moaning over in the shadow of the tree, and from the corner of my eye, I thought I saw him trying to get up. But then there was a streak of green flying through the trees, more like bird than beast.
She isn’t like the others.
Most scarb were predictable—boring, almost. Growl, drool, lunge for your throat. She was anything but predictable. That realization was terrifying, but also somehow electrifying. A challenge.

I can take her
, I thought as I assumed a fighting stance, keeping my eyes on the trees. Fighting came naturally to me. When Ray started training Nathan and me in jiu-jitsu, karate, and free-style, he told me I was a born fighter. But my grace as a fighter wasn’t so much my mastery of technique or the conditioning of my body. It was the drive in me. I knew Nathan and I were alone in the world and that I
was the only one who could keep us safe. No one, nothing was going to hurt those I loved ever again.
And it’s not going to happen now, pretty little monster,
I said in my mind to the scarb leaping above, planning her next attack upon us.
Ray is finally mine. I won’t let you have him.

One moment, the scarb was shooting to an aspen on my left. A millisecond later, she had already switched directions and was coming right at me.
Gosh, she’s fast.
She swung from a low branch, arched her back with the elegance of a diver, and aimed her barbed elbows for my neck. I held my ground until the last second, then ducked. She hit the ground behind me, clearly not expecting my speed, either. She twisted her head to the side a moment, as if assessing me. We had both underestimated each other. Now she came at me full-speed. I turned into her, instead of away, and lowered my center of gravity. My head rammed into her stomach, causing air to rush out of her. She tried to wrap her arm around my neck, but she was suddenly ripped off of me.

Ray was back on his feet and had her in a strong hold. She clawed like an angry cat as he dragged her back several feet. Her feet kicked up a cloud of dirt, making me cough, but flung myself forward at her. I appreciated Ray trying to be heroic, but I really did have her. I jumped on one of her thrashing legs, careful to avoid the poisonous barbs on her knees, and grabbed the other leg. She writhed and twisted, but we had her.

“Drag her to that tree,” Ray said, motioning his head toward a large trunk not ten feet from us. I nodded, but then the scarb’s body suddenly went completely limp. Her eyes rolled back, and her head flopped back like an empty sack, her hair gathering sticks and leaves from the ground as we carried her.

“What’s happening?” I asked, but the look on Ray’s face told me he didn’t know, either. Her body was unnaturally still. Her chest
wasn’t moving at all. All her muscles were flaccid and heavy. “Is she dead?”

“I don’t know,” Ray answered as we reached the tree. “I don’t see how she could be—”

Just then, the scarb’s head shot up. She looked right at me with the four irises of her emerald eyes. A bizarre smile twisted her lips. “Well done,” she mouthed at me, and I thought I heard the words in my mind. I was so shocked, I almost dropped her. Scarbs didn’t speak. We’d guessed that they must be able to communicate in some way. Like with pheromones as ants do or maybe telepathy.
Is that what she’s doing now? Speaking to my mind
?
But then her body undulated, starting at her feet and traveling to her head. The movement was so strong and so sudden that she broke our hold and landed flat on her feet between us.

Ray and I leapt for her, but she swung her elbow and slashed my left cheek with the tip of one of her barbs. Hot blood dripped off my jaw. It burned with acid. She and Ray slashed and punched at each other, moving through the forest like a whirlwind. I ran forward to help when two more scarb we hadn’t noticed before jumped down from the trees, barring my way. These two were massive, the size of pro-football size. They spat at me and cracked their pointy knuckles, but made no advance towards me.
That’s strange.
It was as if they were intentionally keeping me from getting to Ray and the female.
Like bodyguards.

“Ray!” I screamed and tried to see around the Elways. But their bodies and the surrounding bushes were too thick; I could only make out the flash of his black jacket.

“Go, Cat!” he called back, his voice sharp with desperation. “She’s too strong. We can’t kill her.”

I tried to tear through the bushes at my left, but again, one of the Elways blocked me. He didn’t make a move to touch me, but I didn’t
want to test one of his knife-like knuckles. “No!”I shrieked. “I can’t leave you!”

I could hear bushes and trees snapping. “Go, Cat. Now!” he yelled. Then, the forest was still.

“Ray, no!”My heart shredded. I could barely think as rage and shock filled me. Everything had happened so fast. And now the monster had killed him. I knew she must be coming for me next.
Well, let her come.
I clenched my hands into fists to prepare for the moment.
I’ll make her wish she’d never seen us.

But to my surprise, the two guards pulled back instead of coming for me. “She’s got me,” Ray screamed, his voice real and sharp and very much alive. “She’s taking me.” Through the trees and past the Elways, I caught a glimpse of the female scarb. She had Ray tied and wrapped up in cords, like a fly in a spider’s web. She was dragging him up the mountain.

“What on earth is she doing?”
Scarb don’t take prisoners, they kill humans as quickly as possible.

Following impulse alone, I ran after them up the steep slope, though they were already far ahead of me. No one was going to take Ray from me. He was alive, and he was mine. I clawed at the trees and rocks, but the scarb were too moving fast. They had just gotten above the treeline and into the open hillside fifty yards ahead of me, when all three scarb spread thin, wiry wings out from their backs.

“Fliers!” I shrieked, unable to believe what I was seeing. But those
were
wings. Flying scarb were more legend than reality. No one in Rimerock had ever seen one—except for old Rodgers, and most of his stories were better taken with a grain of salt. And now, here was not just one but
three
fliers.

Their wings stretched and began to beat in a steady rhythm. I fought my way through the dust and loose grass they kicked up. I was
almost to him. But then a sharp downward wind picked up, and the scarb were in the air, carrying Ray up over the mountain.

“No!” I yelled, and flung rocks up at the scarb, but my weapons fell down to the earth, hopelessly far from bringing him back to me.

The scarb flew several hundred feet above the mountain side and then headed toward the eastern hills, taking the man I loved away into the rising morning sun.

Chapter Four

Gone

Ray’s gone. They took him.
I stared at the last spot I’d seen him—not more than a tiny black speck in the sky—until he was gone completely. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t blink or breathe. It was as though all the blood in my body froze in my veins, unwilling to budge.

But scarb don’t kidnap people, they kill them. They’re going to kill Ray, they’re just doing it differently this time. Maybe that’s what flying scarb do.
I tried to figure it out.
Take their victims up into the air and then—

I was no longer still. I sprinted up the mountain, and it took a moment for my brain to catch up to my body. My quads and calves burned, but still I climbed. I ran until I reached the top of the saddle, where the mountain ranges beyond stretched far in a deep blue and purple sea. I scanned the blush-pink skies, but they were empty, save for a few wispy cirrus clouds and a circling hawk. I looked at the bird, and my heart burned with envy.
You could find him. You could fly and fly and nothing could stop you.

“Ray!” I screamed.

Only the wind answered.

For a moment, I was tempted to run down the opposite mountainside and search every blasted inch of land until I found him, but as my blood and breathing slowed, my reason returned. There was no way I could find him, not by myself—maybe not ever. But I couldn’t think about that.
I have to find him
.
I searched the rocks below but saw no sign of him. Maybe they were taking Ray to the
colony that lay in the mountains to the east, the same colony Officer Reynolds and the others were planning to go after.

My mind started circling. I had the parts for the fire trucks now. They were back at the rock overhang Ray and I had slept under last night. I could bring them back to the island, tell everyone what happened—

My feet were moving again, leaping in bounds like a gazelle at times and half sliding back down the steep slopes at others. Both backpacks were still under the overhang, and I hefted them onto my shoulders. Carrying both was heavier than I expected, and my steps were slow and awkward. Frantic images of Ray flashed in my mind, the scarb girl snapping his neck as a display of bravery before her queen or dropping him from a thousand feet in the air.
Surely that’s why she took him
.
These flying scarb must have a taste for more violent deaths. Maybe she likes torture.

The sun was leaning toward the west when I plopped the packs down into the row boat and paddled furiously toward the island.
Ray needs me.
Every second was precious. I prayed that he wasn’t already dead.

When I got to the island’s shore, Mrs. Weatherstone sat crouched alongside the cool lake, filling several large glass jugs.

“Mrs. Weatherstone!” I exclaimed. Her soft gray hair and hazel eyes reminded me of a slightly older version of my mother. She looked at me, my face dripping with sweat, and my hair matted to my head and face.

“Catherine!” she exclaimed, nearly dropping her jug. “Where have you been? Everyone’s been so worried!”She looked over the boat. “Where’s Ray? Didn’t he go with you?”

Hot tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. “He did,” I spoke quickly, hoping to keep the fear and pain inside. If I lost it now, I might not have the strength to do what I needed to get him back. I
lifted one of the heavy packs. “Please,” I begged her, “can you help me?”

She set her jug down and waded knee-deep into the water, soaking her jeans, and helped me lift the heavy pack.

“Goodness! What’s in this?” she huffed as she stepped back up onto the grassy bank. Then, she paused and turned back to me as I was tying the up boat. There was a look of understanding on the gentle features of her face. “Wait, is this? Oh, Catherine, please tell me you didn’t.”

“I did,” I said seriously. Any pride I might have felt at this moment was lost now. “Help me get them to town.”

“We can use my wheelbarrow,” she answered, and I noticed the wheelbarrow she’d set to the side of the path to help her carry the water jugs back.

“Thanks.” I set the pack down, grateful not to have the weight on my shoulders. She wordlessly picked up the handles of the wheelbarrow and pushed the packs to town.

When we got to the Post, I saw Officer May talking with a young soldier outside but they fell silent at the sight of Mrs. Weatherstone and me emerging from the forest with the wheelbarrow.

“Carla, what on earth—” Officer May asked Mrs. Weatherstone, but I cut him off.

“Get everyone together,” I demanded. “Ray’s gone, and we have to get him.”

Officer May’s frowned his silver eyebrows, making his already lined face even more crinkled. “Gone? What do you mean gone? Is he—”

“Dead?” I finished the sentence for him and wiped at the sweat on my brow. “No.”I shuddered. “Not yet, I hope.”

“You’re trembling.” Mrs. Weatherstone put a soft hand on my shoulder. “Tell us what happened.”

I bit my lip to keep back the tidal wave. “I will as soon as you gather everyone. Please.”I didn’t know how much longer I could keep it together.

“Okay,” Officer May finally acquiesced. “Jonathan, go round up the men at the tents. We’ll meet inside the Post.”

The air inside the canvas building was musty and smelled of dust and wood chips. The circular saws had been pulled out, and the men had already gotten to work on the logs Ray had helped bring down just a day earlier. I picked up one of the curly shavings.
How quickly things have changed since then.

But there were the two packs at my feet. I’d done as I set out to do.
I got the packs, but I lost Ray.
I bit my lip, wondering how the people would take that.
Everyone likes Ray. If one of us had to go missing, I’m sure they would rather it was me.

Officer May entered, followed by Officer Reynolds and three dozen others. The crowd settled in a congested semi-circle, their eyes on me.

As usual, Officer Reynolds took charge. If Rimerock had a mayor, he was the closest thing to it. “So, what’s this I hear about Ray gone missing?” His face was pinched and his arms crossed. He looked at me like I was a fly he wished he could simply swat away.

I took a quick breath. “Yes, he’s gone. We were coming back from the saddle, when we ran into scarb—”