Break The Ice (7 page)

Case and point.

“You said that last year.”

“Yeah, but I have one more AP than you this year.”

Kaitlyn bites off a piece of her cone. “AP art history is not going to put you over the edge.”

While they argue, I sit in the background, observing. My usual seat. I welcome the break from conversation. It’s exhausting. I exchange glances from Ted to Kaitlyn as they argue about their AP credits. I never knew advanced placement had such an effect on people. I always try as little as possible in school, and they’re asking for additional work?

I linger for a second on Kaitlyn as she laughs. That laugh, it’s been a part of my life for years over Team Speak, but it has a different feel in person. It’s easy to see why Ted can’t stop staring at her.

After her last comment, she jerks her hand to the side. The remaining scoop of vanilla ice cream breaks free from the cone and wobbles, on the verge of falling. If she drops it on herself, I can imagine Ted offering to pay for a new shirt. Maybe that’s his thing.

“Hey,” I say, but neither notices. “Watch out for…” I try to keep going, but can’t find space to get my sentence out. They talk so fast, it’s hard to tell if they’re even breathing. English papers. Biology exams. GPA and extra credits. Four different topics crammed into two and a half sentences.

“That’s not how a weighted–ah!”

The ice cream teeters for a millisecond then spills over the edge, rolling over her wrist before falling. I throw my hand out, ducking under her arm pit and doing my best to avoid touching anywhere I shouldn’t. My fingers stop, less than an inch from her chest, with a whopping pile of ice cream melting between them.

Kaitlyn looks from the ice cream in my hand to her empty cone.

I slide back and toss the handful to the side. Without any napkins, I wipe the remaining ice cream on the grass next to me. “Sorry,” I say. “Keep talking. I just didn’t want…you know.”

“Thanks,” she says. “This is my favorite shirt.”

“Killer reflexes, bro,” Ted says.

“I don’t expect anything less from the Destroyer.”

The comment is meant for me, but Ted’s eyes grow wide. “Wait a second. This is
that
Sam?”

“In the flesh,” she says, still staring at me.

My face gets hot.

“Dude, you’re like, a legend,” he says.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” I say. What else is there to say? I don’t even understand what’s happening.

“You’re the one that saved Black Lion from Shinrock’s Cavern?”

Now it’s Kaitlyn who blushes.

I remember tackling Shinrock’s Cavern with Kaitlyn. It took us almost seven straight hours. On a school night. The night before midterms. The next day had been awful, but worth it.

But I did that with BlueKnight. It takes me a few seconds to put it all together. She has another account that she uses to play with other people. I don’t know whether to be angry or embarrassed.

To save her from getting any redder, I say, “The one and only.”

“Shouldn’t you be getting back to work, Ted?” Kaitlyn says.

He checks his watch. “Oh! Good call, thanks babe.” Jumping to his feet, he tosses the rest of his cone into the bushes. “Catch you later, Destroyer.” The name sounds crass coming from him, on the edge of mocking.

Ted is only a few steps away when Kaitlyn hides behind her hands. “I’m so sorry,” she says.

“For hiding me from other people or never telling me you’re dating that guy?” I guess I chose angry.

“What? No!” She crosses her legs, shifting her body to face me. “I never told them about BlueKnight for a reason. I wasn’t hiding them from you. I hid you from them because I didn’t want…to…share you.” She sinks back a little. “That sounds really childish saying it out loud.”

“And him?” I say, in a whisper, hitching a thumb at Ted who is taking forever to walk away.

“We used to date, like, four years ago? It lasted a month. A typical middle school relationship, you know? And now every time he can, he calls me babe. I hate it, but he won’t stop, no matter how many times I tell him to. You saw his sense of humor.”

I’m an idiot. Why did I assume the right to question her like that in the first place? As soon as she finishes explaining, I’m ashamed. Not only for the way I reacted but for not trusting her.

“Look,” she says. “I wouldn’t have agreed to a meeting like this just to throw a fact like that in your face. I did it because…”

The words form on her lips, but she stops. “Yeah?” I say.

She bites her lip. “I did it to–”

Her words cut short, and she flies forwards. Her body lands on top of mine, and my arms instinctively fall around her.

It takes an extra second to process what’s happening. She isn’t jumping on me. No, she fell forward. And I’m not embracing her. I’m shielding her from the exploding building thirty feet away.

The high pitched ringing forces tears to my eyes. It can’t be more than a decibel or two below a jet engine. I yell to Kaitlyn, trying to find out if she’s okay, but I can’t figure out if the words make any noise.

Her heart races against my chest. At least she’s alive.

I place a hand behind her head and move her ear closer to my mouth. Her intoxicating perfume fills my senses, but I have to focus. “Are you okay? Squeeze once for yes, twice for–”

She digs her fingers into my shoulder and squeezes hard but only once.

“I’m going to roll you off and try to stand up,” I shout. I push, and she lifts like paper. The adrenaline coursing through me has given my arms an extra boost. With my free hand, I guide her legs out and help her sit up.

Dirt covers her shirt and a few pieces of grass fall from her hair. A long smear of ash clumps at her side. I brush it away, but she flinches.

“What’s wrong?” I say. The words sound miles away.

She holds my hand down, hesitating, before lifting her shirt a few inches where the ash marks stained.

There’s no cut or blood, only a red welt the size of my fist that’s already bruising. I apply some pressure around the spot, and she jumps back. “I don’t think they’re broken,” I say. But what do I know? “Can you stand?”

“Yeah, I’ll be okay,” she says.

“Lean against me,” I say, placing her hand on my shoulder.

I stand, as slow as possible, and carefully lift her with me. We keep going until my back is straight and, for the first time, we stand side by side. She’s only a few inches shorter than me. “You’re really tall,” I say.

She laughs, wincing again from the movement. “I don’t think now’s the time for that,” she says.

Right. The burning building. I help her with the first two steps before she lets go and walks solo. “I’m right here if you need,” I say.

I don’t make it three feet before tripping and stumbling forward. My feet catch up before I fall. Bending over, I turn over the burnt metal bar at my feet. It’s part of the building and smothered in ash. “One of these must have hit your side,” I say.

Kaitlyn shoves it with her exposed toe. “Count me lucky,” she says.

“You’re not the only one,” I say. My line of sight passes her as I stand up. Twenty feet away, kneeling down in the grass and staring at the destroyed Orange Cone is Ted. I run over to him.

“What the hell, man?” he says.

“Are you okay?” I say.

He turns his head. A thin cut spreads down his cheek. It’s bleeding, but not a lot. Some of the curls at the edge of his hair burned off, leaving behind an uneven row on the other side. Dirt and ash stain his shirt the same as Kaitlyn’s.

“What. The.
Hell?
”

I grab his shirt and pull him to his feet. “You’re fine,” I say. “Did you see what happened?”

“The fucking building exploded, man, that’s what happened,” he says.

Not much help. Kaitlyn has followed me over. She stares at the store’s remains. “Stay with Ted,” I say. “I’m going to check the front.”

“That’s crazy,” she says.

“What if somebody else got hurt? Stay with Ted,” I repeat.

The fire added to the already hot day is brutal, but I run around the rubble and out onto the patio area. Many of the tables were knocked to their sides, chairs blown into pieces and a few umbrellas set on fire. Scattered around the tables are at least a dozen bodies. I hurry to the first person and lean down, checking for a pulse. It’s the Asian man wearing yellow. His pulse beats twice before it disappears.

Nausea floods my entire body. I force myself to stand up and check two more. A couple sharing a bowl of ice cream. A shard from the bowl sticks out of the man’s neck. The girl, her arms wrapped around his waist, has no noticeable injuries, but she’s not breathing.

Darting from destroyed table to destroyed table, I check on everybody. Nobody out here survived the blast. How many were inside? Could any of them still be alive, trapped? Through the only intact window, I spot movement. Stepping around pieces of the Orange Cone sign, I get as close as possible.

Inside, a man stands beside a smoking sink. Laughing. He bends down next to a pile of burning boxes and warms his hands.

“Are you alright?” I say through the cracked glass.

His laughter cuts out. Cocking his head to the side, his eyes search for me. He scans the burning room until the destruction ends and the lone window remains. Once his eyes find mine, any trace of humor disappears. He can’t get out this way, but he walks closer to me, shifting his head from side to side like a confused dog.

I regret calling out to him. It’s none of my business. Even if that means him standing inside a burning ice cream shop.

When he gets close enough to the window, his face becomes clearer than before. Half a dozen blisters boil on his chin. His skin sags, almost like gravity wants to pull it off. And fire smolders in his eyes. Literal fire, burning behind his pupils.

In a single blow, his fist breaks through the cement blocks. He tugs back but the building locks his hand tight. Rather than trying again, he pushes outwards, and knocks the wall out from in front of him. He steps over the threshold, his intense stare following my every move. Eyes wide, mouth bent, muscles twitching, he breaks off a chunk of exposed brick.

I retreat back out onto the patio, surrounded by the dead. An intense cringe tightens every muscle in my chest. If he can do that to brick, snapping my bones will be a synch. “Stay back,” I say. I want to sound confident, but I can’t hide the pleading in my voice. Puffing out my chest, I stomp my foot on the ground. “I said stay back.” That’s more like it.

He holds the brick, a piece larger than my fist, in his right hand. Raising it up to his face, he flicks his wrist and the brick catches fire. A smile tugs at his lips. He tosses the flaming brick from hand to hand.

Fighting seems the worst option at this point, so I keep stepping back and hopping away from the flames to my side. I follow the fire in his hands back and forth, waiting until he makes a move with it. In my retreat, my foot bumps something soft behind me. The red hem of a shirt covers my heel. If I keep this up, I’m going to lead the madman right to Kaitlyn.

I take off running, away from the Orange Cone. Away from Kaitlyn. No cars in the street and only a few in the parking lot left unscathed–Mel’s included. Ten steps from her car, I hook a right. If I run to the car, this guy will destroy it with a flaming boulder.

The sound comes before the pain. A whizzing noise, almost like a train’s whistle out in the distance. It gets louder and louder until a searing pain whips my neck. The car next to me shakes with the impact, the door folding in on itself. A dozen pieces of smoking rock rattle onto the pavement.

The lunatic threw fire at me.

I face him again. He didn’t follow me very far, still standing next to the building, a new piece of it in his hand. A metal rod this time, three feet long and broken at the end. Sharp, metal, and crawling with flames.

Poised to throw, the man takes a few steps backward. He bounces on his heel and takes a running start. Once he builds up the momentum, he releases the rod, ready for me become his newest kabob.

From somewhere to my right, a rush of cold air soothes the stinging in my neck. The blast pushes the spear off course. A second wave douses the flames. When the rod crashes into my shoulder, it snaps in two pieces, hits the ground, and then splinters into a hundred icicles.

Fire-guy is not happy with the turn of events. He searches for the heaviest thing he can find and launches it. Not at me, but at whoever saved me.

A man, bluer than the afternoon sky, dodges the attack. He dashes forward, sprinting at the building. Ten feet away, he leaps into the air and crashes down on top of the man.

The Dinmani swings again and again, his knuckles colliding with the Sunjin’s burning face. Each hit distorts the man’s skin a little more, until it looks ready to peel off. Standing over his cowering enemy, the Dinmani places a hand atop the Sunjin’s head and chants out loud.

“Sik mo ple ni shil!” A blue light envelops the Sunjin.

Bones crunch and a muffled scream escapes. The light disappears and along with it, the mangled corpse of the Sunjin. It takes all the will power I can muster to not run from the Dinmani.

He greets me with an out-of-place smile, like he didn’t murder someone seconds before. “Hello. Tinjo said you might need help.”

“What the hell was that?” I say.

“Sunjin,” he says, like I don’t already know that. “I sensed his presence but could not cross over fast enough to stop him.”

“Not that,” I say. “The blue light you killed him with.”

“Dinmow,” he says. “It is my essence. It can bring a dying Dinmani back to health, but it is deadly against any Sunjin.” He stares at me for a second before stepping in close. “I can sense it in you.” He shifts back a little, looking over his shoulder. “Are you Dinmani?”

I can’t help but laugh out loud. “What? No. I’m just a guy.”

He squints a little, staring into my eyes. “If you say so. Well then, guy, I am Tinwel, captain of the Dinmani army.”

Tinwel? I’ll never remember their names if I meet too many more. “Did Tinjo send you to lead us?

Tinwel shakes his head. “I am only here to guide when needed. Until you learn to fight the Sunjin, you will require some help.”

“Sam?”

My body freezes. Kaitlyn. How did I forget? It must be almost ten minutes since I left. I turn around. She stands at the building’s edge, helping Ted limp across the parking lot. I forgot Ted was even with her and a flash of guilt flutters through me. I run over.

“Are you okay?” I say.

“I wanted to ask the same thing. What happened to you?”

“What do you mean?”

She lifts a hand and runs it along my neck. Every nerve sparks at her touch. “Did you get too close to the fire?” she says.

Pulling my phone out, I turn on the camera and use it like a mirror. A red welt stretches along one whole side of my throat. The Sunjin’s attack must have hit me harder than I thought.

“I’m okay,” I say, rubbing my neck. It burns a little now that I know about it.

Tinwel walks up beside me. “Is this your army?” he says. Subtle.

Wait a second. Neither Kaitlyn nor Ted has any idea what they’re standing next to. I shift my stare from Tinwel to Kaitlyn to explain, but stop. She’s shaking and her lips show signs of blue. I place a hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

At my touch, she sucks in a deep breath. “So…cold.” Her eyes leave mine and focus on Tinwel. Her mouth hangs open, but she doesn’t say anything else.

“You have to go,” I say, addressing Tinwel. “Unless you can do whatever Tinjo did for me, they can’t be near you.”

Tinwel nods. “Only Tinjo can provide protection. If they will fight with you, speak to him.” He turns away and draws a circle in the air. A small light appear out of nowhere. It grows until he can step through.

As soon as it blinks out of existence, Kaitlyn and Ted stop shaking. They both collapse to the ground. I’m standing close enough to Kaitlyn to catch her. I help her lean against a nearby car before I grab Ted and pull him over.

“Who was that?” Kaitlyn says.

“
What
was that?” Ted says, correcting her.

I swallow the lump stuck in my throat. “He’s the reason I came today. Well, not him exactly, but his people.”

“You wanted to meet me so you could help destroy the Orange Cone?”

“No. I wanted to meet you because I’ve thought about it for a long time. But that’s not the point.”

“What
is
the point?”

I’m losing her. But how can I explain it to her without sounding insane? “There’s a parallel universe and two civilizations from that universe are at war against each other. The Dinmani, like Tinwel, the blue guy that just disappeared through a portal, want to save it. The Sunjin, the evil ones who destroyed the Orange Cone, want to destroy Earth. I need your help to stop them.” I guess there’s no way to not sound crazy saying that.

Ted laughs. “Where did you find this guy? He’s nuts.”

I bite my tongue. I like Ted less and less every time he talks. But I need people, Tinjo made that clear. “So I can count you in, too, huh?”

“He has a point,” Kaitlyn says. “That sounds a little farfetched.”

“Did you not
just
see a guy with blue skin disappear into a portal after making you almost freeze from hypothermia during the worst heat wave of our lives?” I inhale a sharp breath. Calm down or you’re going to scare them both. “I don’t want to believe it myself, but I can’t deny what I’ve seen. Look around you.” I gesture at the dead bodies behind me. “This is going to be the rest of your town if we don’t act fast.”

Wait a second. The rest of the town. The entire busy street I walked down earlier this morning. Where is everybody?

Kaitlyn catches on at the same time. “Why hasn’t anybody come to check out the explosion?”

“If they’re smart, they probably–”