Free SWAB (A Young Adult Dystopian Novel) by Heather Choate

toward the entrance.
    “Don’t stop!” I yelled, but they couldn’t hear me. The truck stopped just feet behind the rear of the first. The third engine with Officer Reynolds came up behind, and it stopped, too. We were all trapped before the main tunnel, surrounded by a sea of monsters and forced into a tight semi-circle around the engines. Those on the ground quickly fell to the onslaught of the blood-thirsty scarb.
    An ear-piercing scream rent the air. It was Cassandra. I could see her auburn braid swinging in the midst of scarb. Then it fell. There was nothing I could do.
    Scarb started climbing the engine, scaling the sides without using the ladders, like beetles climbing walls. I spun my swords in two arcs, faster and faster. The blades chinged off the scarb’s thick plated chitin, but every once in a while it would drive into weaker connective tissue and take off a hand or slice into a rib cage. My hands were slick with their blood and fluids, but still they came. Where are the water runners?
    I heard a snap. The gray-haired soldier fell lifeless across my boots. I had to kick his corpse off the truck.
    “There’s too many of them,” Travis cried, his face splattered with blood and bits of black flesh. There were only seven humans left on top of the engine. The water from the holding tanks ran out. The packs ran out. I lost one of my swords after imbedding it into a brown scarb’s thigh. She fell back into the throng of beasts on the ground before I could retrieve it. I was down to one sword and my knives.
    “Water runners!” I heard the cry from one of the engines back. I turned to see five or so humans running toward the third fire truck with two of the water hoses. At least three dozen scarb blocked their way.
    “We’ve got to get to them,” I shouted to Travis. He nodded, and together, we slashed our way off the engine. We jumped onto the hood of Nathan’s truck and scrambled up to the top. Nathan and Derrick were back to back, fighting three black scarb. I took out one by slicing the tendons of its ankles so it couldn’t kick at my brother. Derrick used a large mallet to crush the soft spot of another’s skull. Nathan used his martial arts skills and put a roundhouse-kick into the last. There was a deep gash in Nathan’s upper arm.
    “Are you okay?” I asked.
    “Fine,” he huffed.
    “We’ve got to get to those water hoses if any of us are going to survive.” I pointed. Nathan, Derrick, and three others abandoned the second truck, and we dashed over to protect the water runners.
    When we got there, Sergeant Sims was hauling the hose over one shoulder, fending off scarb with his other hand. He looked at me with relief and said a quick “thanks.” Derrick and Nathan picked up the heavy hose, and I ran alongside, keeping the scarb back enough for us to get the hose to the third fire engine.
    Officer Reynolds grabbed it and attached it to the holding tank on the side of the truck. I kept my one sword swinging. “Let her rip!” he yelled, and his soldiers turned the handle. Did it work? I suddenly found myself alone amidst a circle of about nine scarb. The others had all made it onto the truck. I spun my sword above my head like a helicopter blade, daring any of them to get closer. They snapped their jaws and clicked their pointed teeth at me. Two charged me from behind. Pain sliced down my spine. I screamed and threw my fist into the jaw of the beast that had cut me with his barbed elbows. His jaw sank into my shoulder, and he ripped off a chunk of it, spitting my skin and muscle onto the ground. Another scream jetted out of my throat.
    I was all adrenaline and rage. The bloody-mouthed scarb went for another bite at my neck. I smashed the pommel of my sword over and over into his skull. The bone was too strong, so I went for his eyes. The butt of my sword dove in deep, and I smashed his eye into his brain cavity. This seemed to enrage the others, and in an instant, they were all over me,