Out Of This World

“Kim! Kim, wake up!”

I sat up abruptly at the urgency in Grace’s voice.

“What the hell’s the matter with your door? Open up Kim!” I jumped out of bed and scurried to the door.

“I don’t know! It won’t open!” I lied, yelling through the timber.

There was a high pitched groan and I could hear Grace getting flustered.

“Grace, what’s the matter?” I called, getting worried now.

There was silence; she had left. I paced around my room, from window to window. Glancing out of one, I noticed the lights on in the Burliegh household and I was frozen to the spot.

This was serious.

Could it be the agents?

Were the agents here to take us away?

Were we trying to escape?

There were three loud clangs! from the other side of the door and I went running back to it.

“Kim, stand back! I’m breaking the door down-“

Clang!

I stumbled backwards just in time. A fire extinguisher broke through the knob side of the door, sending splinters flying everywhere. It landed with a thump where I had been standing moments before. The knob rolled and came to a stop at my feet. I stepped over it and the fire extinguisher and ran to Grace, who took me firmly by the arm and dragged me down the stairs and out of the house.

“Grace! What’s happened? Are they coming to take us away?” I almost sobbed the last inquiry.

She ignored me, dragging me straight through the backyard, through a gap in the hedges, through Ben’s backyard and into his house. We stopped in the kitchen. Dad and James were standing around the table, Michelle was shoving ice cube trays into the freezer. When we entered all eyes were on me.

Michelle breathed a, “Thank God,” and raced up stairs with a bucket of ice.

“Kim, sit down,” James instructed. I hastily took a seat, shoving my arms beneath my thighs.

There was a long, ringing silence before Dad cleared his throat.

“Ben is…very sick, Kim.” I looked up at him, but he refused to meet my gaze. I felt my lungs deflate and my heart subside.

“What’s wrong with him?” I murmured, crusts of ice gathering at my tear ducts.

“He’s burning up. He was one-hundred-and-twelve degrees last time we checked, and he’s still rising,” James said quietly.

“When was the last time you checked?”

“Fifteen minutes ago. We can’t stand the heat of him anymore. The air around him burns us.”

“Kim…” Grace began, her voice trembling slightly. I looked up at her blurry figure. “We don’t know how…”

Dad put an arm around her shoulders.

“We don’t know how long the human part of him can survive this,” Dad continued for her.

I gulped. I burped. I lurched forward and threw up all over the kitchen table.

“Oh, Kim…” Grace came over and held my hair away from my face while I wretched some more.

James walked out of the room. Dad brought me a glass of water which I used to rinse my mouth out over the sink. Michelle came back down, the bucket steaming with hot water, beads of sweat dripping from beneath her fringe. Placing the glass in the sink, I tied up my hair and walked out of the kitchen. Grace caught up with me on the stairs. She grabbed my arm,

“Kim, stop.”

I turned to her, my face iced over with frozen tears.

“Please, Grace,” I said quietly, “Let me go to him.”

A tear rolled down Grace’s cheek as she let go of my arm and retreated back to the kitchen. I continued on my way to Ben’s room, pausing at the door to take a deep breath before letting myself in.

The windows were fogged up, tangled sheets lay in the centre of two beds: one empty, one holding the shaking Ben. The heat licked at my skin and I doubled up my icy shield. It lay thinly on my skin before melting into sweat and dripping down my face. I ran over to Ben and knelt next to him. His breathing quickened and his eyes fluttered as if fighting to open, before giving up and staying closed.

“Kim?” He whispered between ragged breaths.

“Ben…” I whispered back.

I drew my hand out and rested it on his forehead. He was scorching hot, but I worked to keep a layer of ice beneath my palm. Ben’s lips tweaked into a small smile and he sighed in relief. His shaking slowed to little bursting tremors and his body relaxed ever so slightly. Even if I had to sit there for the rest of my life conjuring ice into my hands, I was going to keep him alive.

Five minutes of this and I began to feel incredible weak. The air I breathed scratched at my throat; I was parched. I took my hands off Ben’s face and stood up. His hands grabbed the air for my shirt and caught hold of the elastic on my cotton pants instead.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back, I promise,” I said quietly, removing his hand from my trousers and placing it back next to him. He sent me a jagged nod and I left the room.

I entered the kitchen, clearing my throat to make my presence known. All four heads jerked up.

“I need some water, please,” I rasped. James began filled a glass and handed it to me.

I received it with a quiet “thank you” and, taking the empty bucket from Michelle, poured the water into it. Everyone stared, but no one questioned my motives. I then proceeded to fill the bucket to the top and heave it up the stairs behind me.

Before entering Ben’s room, I placed the bucket down and took a long drink while the water was cool. When I re entered the furnace, Ben was shaking again. I rushed over to his side, as fast as the bucket would let me. The water was already steaming. I pushed my arms into the bucket until my fingers touched the bottom and the water reached just above my elbows. It started cooling instantly.

Ben’s weak grip grabbed my arm and pulled it against his face. Closing my eyes, I controlled the frost, willing it to creep off my finger tips and onto Ben’s skin. It melted on contact, and I growled in frustration. My pajamas were now damp, yet the water had evaporated minutes ago. Was I sweating? I pinched the cloth of my shirt and held it to my nose. Yep, sweat.

Hastily, I pulled off my shirt and my pants. The heat rushed in, licking my bare skin. Picking up the bucket, I poured a little water over my head and let it soak my hair and run down the length of my body. I changed the puddles of water at my feet into a thin layer of ice, and sat down to keep it that way. Then, I pulled Ben to the floorboards and cradled him against me. I wrapped my arms around his head, pressed our bodies together and clenched my teeth at the effort it took just to keep myself relatively cool. Ben stopped shaking, encouraging me to keep at it.

Reaching over his shoulder, I dipped my hand in the bucket and brought some water to my mouth which I lapped up ravenously. It was steaming again, but upon contact with my fingers cooled almost instantly. I had never been able to cool things so quickly; I knew I was reaching temperatures I never had before, and that if it wasn’t for Ben, my heart would’ve frozen over by now.

Ben’s body began the tremors again, and I cried out in hopelessness. My tears flowed freely down my cheeks as salty liquid. I gritted my teeth and clung onto his shaking torso, focusing on the coldest things I could imagine.

The bottom of the ocean.

A glacier.

Antarctica.

Dry Ice.

Dry Ice.

Science- year 9.
Dry Ice is solid carbon dioxide, commonly used as a versatile cooling agent. The low temperature and direct sublimation to a gas makes dry ice a very effective coolant, since it is colder than ice and leaves no moisture as it changes state…

So all I had to do, was bring my body temperature down to -57 degrees Celsius and channel it into the air between us.

Yeah, that’s all.

Simple.

Beneath my ribs, I could feel my heart tearing itself into a million little pieces.

Carbon dioxide only makes up 0.03% of the air. A ridiculously far shot, but I was desperate. More desperate than I had ever been in my life- so desperate it ached every cell that made up my being. If this worked, Ben would live. I needed this to work. I needed Ben to live. I needed Ben for me to live.

Reluctantly, I detached myself from Ben and lay him flat on his back. I took a long, deep drink before taking a long, deep breath and laying myself on top of him, pushing my arms under his head and resting my cheek against his chest. His breathing was shallow and struggled against my face. I closed my eyes. I clenched my jaw. Every muscle in my body tightened as I dropped my body temperature down, down, down until a thin layer of frost grew over my abdomen.

It burned. The dry ice was so fucking cold, it felt hot. It blistered and smoldered the flesh beneath it.

It hurt.

I screamed.

And if it weren’t for the knowledge that I was half way to success, I would’ve stopped right away.

“Ben,” I said through gritted teeth, “This is going to hurt a little.”

And I closed the small gap between us. Ben gritted his teeth and groaned in pain. Of course it didn’t hurt him nearly as much as it hurt me. Unconsciously, my body began fighting to get away from him, but his arms wrapped around me and held me tight. I couldn’t see- my lids were frozen together with tears. I whimpered in pain. It hurt so much.

And then I could feel my body temperature warming. In other words, getting less cold. I flexed my muscles again, curled my toes until they cramped, fighting desperately to hold onto my temperature. The ice holding my lids together melted and I peeked them open. A shiny metal blade glinted down at me from Ben’s bedside table like a beacon in the darkness. The scissors were all I had my eyes on while I got into a kneel and snatched them from above. Arching my back, I slipped the scissors into the gap and penetrated the soft flesh around my right hip, dragging the blade across my lower abdomen to the left. Cold crimson blood dripped out of the cut and the layer of frost thickened to twice its size.

Our screams reverberated off the walls in a united howl of pain and desolation.