Welcome to Gaia! :: View User's Journal | Gaia Journals

Kio hastily unzipped his dark blue backpack and began to rummage around inside, brushing aside books, two TV dinners, and a variety of lighters in search for one of the bottles of water he had thrown in the night before he and Xema fled New York. He found one of the bottles packed deep down in the bag, frozen solid. Pulling it out amidst the clutter, he zipped the bag back up and brought the bottle back to Xema, who was waiting by the boulder.

"Here," he offered, holding the bottle out for Xema whom, to Kio's surprise, refused.

"Melt it with the lighter," Xema directed, scratching his head, "but only to the point where it's water again." Kio had already taken the tiny red lighter out of his left pocket when Xema grabbed his wrist, stopping him from moving it any closer to the water.

"Wait," he said, then picked up the rock Kio had been using previously, which was charred and burnt on one side. Kio noticed it was quite similar to his burnt knuckles. Xema cocked his right arm back, then smashed the rock against the side of the indentation with great force. A small crack appeared in the boulder, which stretched across almost the length of the original indentation. Satisfied, Xema dropped the rock, then bent down low and scooped up two large handfuls of snow.

"Alright, start melting the ice," he instructed, and Kio clicked the lighter, holding it under the bottle, which he was holding by the cap with his left hand. The ice began to crack as the flame flickered to life, slightly singing the bottom of the plastic bottle. the ice was melting more quickly now, the water collecting in the bottom of the bottle. Kio waited until the bottle was half full, then put out the flame.

"Now pour it in the crack," Xema explained. Kio did as instructed and tilted the bottle so that the contents ran through the crack. "Stop!" commanded Xema, and Kio quickly backed away, startled.

Xema rushed to pack each handful of snow on either side of the crack, trapping the cold water inside. It was now that Kio understood the plan. Xema was trying to get the water to expand into ice, effectively breaking off pieces of the rock. The snow would serve as an insulator, keeping cold air inside the crack to freeze the water.

By the expression on Xema's face, Kio could tell he was ready to move on. "What next?" he inquired.
"I guess we should build a fire," shrugged Xema, a look of question journeying across his face like a New York Subway, coming in suddenly, yet leaving in a flash.
"Right," Kio agreed. "Should I go get some wood?"
Xema shook his head. "I don't think anything around here will burn," he said in dismay, but quickly added, "It's worth a try though. Go into the forest and see if there are any trees thin enough to kick down, but stay close to the clearing."

Kio nodded. Leaving Xema by the boulder, he jogged away from the clearing and into a thin patch of trees to the west. He moved from tree to tree before finding one that was about twice as thick as his thumb, which he was sure he could kick down.

Aiming for waist level, he snapped his foot out, using the pressure in his leg to try to force the tree to breaking point. After two or three tries, he realized that he was merely making all of the tree above waist level bend, and that this would not be effective in breaking the trunk.

He moved to the other side of his nemesis, placing his right foot about half a foot above where the trunk of the tree descended into the ground. With both arms, he reached around to the other side and grabbed the tree, bending it towards himself. The tree snapped instantly, sending large splinters flying into Kio's face.

His knees buckled as the bulk of the trunk hit his chest, and he fell to the ground without arms to catch himself, as they were covering his face at the time. He felt one of the splinters in his right cheek exit his skin and fall into the snow from he impact of the fall, but the rest remained planted firmly as his face hit the snow. He felt warm blood dripping down his face as he struggled to regain order in his mind. He slowly stood up, grimacing as cold air stung the wounds on his face.

He began to pull the splinters out, one by one, bringing new pain with each removal.