The Birth of a Rebellion

by Adam Sipperly

  With full stomachs and warm bodies, the two of them made good time to the village of the Ice people. The town looked like something out of a horror Christmas film. It was hauntingly beautiful, everything made of glistening ice, sparkling in the darkness. But it was deserted and silent. There was no indication of anybody living in the area, and both Patrick and Gin-us were okay with that.

  They continued on cautiously down the street, eyes constantly darting left and right. Patrick stayed very close to Gin-us, almost right on his heels. He had been so focused on looking down dark alleyways that he hadn’t noticed when Gin-us stopped and ran right into him.

  “This must be it,” Gin-us said pointing first to one of the small blue houses and then down the road as he continued. “Second left, third house on the right. Now we just have to go in, get up the stairs and make it to the door at the end of the hallway.

  “Let’s do it,” Patrick tried to sound confident but failed.

  Gin-us took the first step over the threshold of the building and quickly ducked. Patrick didn’t have the same chance to react as a snowball flew from the hallway and hit him square in the face. As he went reeling backward, he grabbed onto Gin-us to steady himself. Together, they fell to the ice, slamming different parts of their bodies on the ground. Again, the Jaguar’s warning boomed in Patrick's head.

  Patrick already had blood dripping down his cheeks, the snowball having been packed with dozens of small ice shards that had torn into his flesh. The snow stained red around them as Gin-us hurried to his feet and tried to pull Patrick up to his. He was half dragging Patrick down the hallway, slamming through a small crowd as he went. This guy should play football. Snowballs continued to fly at them, but they pushed through and finally made it up the stairs and down the hall to knock on the last door.

  Both of them were cornered, protecting their faces as best they could from the onslaught of unrelenting snowballs. After a long minute, an Iceman opened the door in front of them, stared for just a moment, and then broke out laughing as he threw a snowball right in Gin-us’ face. The pair stumbled backward and slammed into the door across the hallway.

  This can’t be how it ends… that was the thought running through both of their heads as the panic grew. Gin-us had foolishly trusted Flee, against his better judgment, and it had led them to their demise. There was no clear path out. Stuck in the fetal position, neither Patrick nor Gin-us could reach their weapons. Patrick was ready to make a run for it when the door behind them flew open and he felt a cold hand brush against his neck as it yanked him inside by his collar. Patrick heard Gin-us slide in beside him, and the door slam shut.

  “What are you two doing out there?!” Patrick’s vision was still blurry from the shards of ice lodged in his face, so he could not yet see who the voice came from. “Are you trying to get yourselves killed?”

  “Frize?” Patrick said into the room, addressing the voice.

  “Yes, that is me. How do you know my name?”

  “We were sent to you by Flee,” Gin-us interjected, “we were traveling to the center of the Earth to find the source of power the aliens use to transform into any other creature. Flee informed us we were going the wrong way and then sent us to you. He said he couldn’t take us all the way, but you would be able to help. Please, tell us he wasn’t wrong?” He couldn’t hide the desperation in his voice if he wanted to.

  “Let me put a few things together and we can get out of here.” There was no hesitation in Frize’s voice. “First of all, I’m sorry to say I can’t do much for your faces or any other injuries right now. However, once we’re a safe distance away I will try. Second, I hate to tell you this, but with me by your side the attacks are probably going to get worse. I’m not liked much around here. Being friends with a Fireman isn’t exactly a popular choice. I’m an outcast of sorts, an easy target. Please, sit down and relax for a few moments while I pack some supplies and we’ll be off. Be ready to run though. It’s only a few blocks out of town, hopefully, we can make it without too much more pain.”

  While Frize stepped into another room to pack, Gin-us and Patrick tried to catch their breath. With his eyes mostly cleared of ice and snow, Patrick was finally able to take in the room; everything gave off a blue hue, seemingly made of packed snow and ice. The refrigerator, the couches, even the rug was ice. There was a television made of ice, which was quite bizarre, and Patrick wondered how it worked. The entire scene reminded him of his own home which left a deep pit in his stomach. His thoughts traveled to his parents, wondering how they were faring with a fake son at home. Frize interrupted these thoughts, running through the room towards his front door.

  “Well, are you both ready?” Frize had one hand already on the doorknob.

  With a quick look to Gin-us, who was hardly recognizable under all the blood and cuts on his face, they took the few short steps across the room to the door. Patrick tried not to think of Gin-us’ face, knowing he couldn’t look much better. The adrenaline was doing its job in holding off the pain, and he needed to focus solely on getting out of there with his life.

  With the three of them lined up at the door, Frize didn’t waste any more time. He nodded his head and flung the door open, running out into the hallway ahead of them. With no time to react Gin-us and Patrick did all they could to stay close to him, barreling down the hallway amongst angry Icemen firing snowballs rapidly. The realization that making it down the stairs and to the front door wasn’t an option set in quickly on all three of them. Frize was the first to double back and change directions, dodging quickly between Patrick and Gin-us. With terror in both their eyes, they did their best to turn around, slamming a few of the Icemen into the walls as they did. Frize moved quickly, and they almost missed him jumping out an open window at the end of the hall.

  Gin-us and Patrick both froze in their tracks, not quite sure what do to. “Did that really just happen?” Patrick yelled to Gin-us.

  He shrugged in return and ran to the window, hurtling himself over three Icemen that blocked his way he cleared the window. Patrick heard him hit the ground and wasted no time. Now or never! He held his breath and jumped out after Gin-us.

  The landing wasn’t the most graceful, but it could have been much worse. A small group of Icemen had gathered outside the building and were unfortunate enough to break the fall. Two of them had been unlucky enough to be crushed, with several others sent sprawling. With a quick glance, Patrick confirmed none were Frize, and scanned the horizon to find him.

  The barrage of snowballs stopped momentarily as the Icemen observed their fallen friends and Patrick was able to spot Frize, already halfway down the road out of town. He stopped for just a second to look back and eagerly waved his hands, urging his new companions on. The two struggled up and made a run for it as the snowballs came flying in even harder than before. The three ran hard and fast, hearts pounding, adrenaline pumping and sweat pouring. And they kept running long after leaving the village behind, long after the shouts of the Icemen had died out and long after the snowballs had stopped flying.

  ◆◆◆

  IX: The Orb

  “I think we’ve gone far enough,” Patrick managed to spit out between heaving gasps of air, “we need to stop before I pass out.”

  They came to a stop, Patrick's muscles continuing to scream, his lungs continuing to burn. His clothes were torn and ragged yet again, his face and arms a bloody mess. Gin-us was in no better shape, struggling to even take another step. Frize was doing the best of them all. There was no blood, but it was clear that he was still experiencing a minor level of pain. His face and body were covered in a series of small scratches and chips.

  “You alright Frize? You look pretty beat up.”

  “You should see yourself,” he rebutted. “I’ll be fine though. All I need is some snow to pack into these cuts and a little medicine, I’ll be good as new.”

  “Interesting remedy. Wish it was that easy to fix my face.” Patrick winced as he gently touched his face, sending a sea
ring pain shooting through him. “Thank you, though, for helping us. I know you didn’t have to and you’re likely to suffer more for getting us out of there.”

  “It isn’t your fault. As I said, I’m an outcast around here. The attacks have never been this brutal, but I knew someday this was bound to happen. I’ve suffered worse in the past, I’ll be fine. These cuts are a small price to pay for the reward that will come from helping you. I’ve been waiting a long time for you…” Frize paused, “I never actually got your names?”

  “I’m Patrick, this is Gin-us. Guess these formalities are easy to miss in the heat of a moment like that?”

  “It’s as good an excuse as any. Now for those cuts, I do have some medicine that should help you as well. You may not heal as quickly, but it will help.”

  Frize dug through his bag and pulled out several bottles he had grabbed from his room. Passing one to Gin-us and one to Patrick, they were instructed to clean their wounds with snow and then apply the salve. It was an odd sensation for both of them. The pain of the cuts still existed, but within a minute of the mixture being applied, they began to see their skin healing, the cuts closing. It was absolutely incredible, like nothing either of them had ever seen before. The skin on Gin-us’ face began to stretch out over his gashes and close them up, a light orange skin adding to the artwork of his face. Just as quickly as it had started, it was over. Patrick could still see where the wounds had been, new skin crisscrossing his hands and arms.

  After wiping away the remaining blood in the snow, they removed and discarded their useless clothes in a pile. Despite planning to travel through intense heat, Gin-us had prepared for anything and they had a few spare outfits each. Pulling a sweater over his head, Patrick felt the same effect as he did the first time, yet again blown away by the instantaneous warmth and perfect fit. With backpacks shouldered the trio began walking again, Frize leading them towards the orb.

  The cold had made it hard to breathe, let alone talk causing the conversation to die out quickly. As they continued, Patrick grew more concerned over Gin-us’ well-being. He was consistently stopping to assess his conditions, watching as Gin-us tried and failed to warm himself. As they walked, he pulled out all of his clothing and had even wrapped a blanket around himself. The wind cut deep through Patrick’s clothing, the Martian technology no longer able to keep it at bay. It was so intense, Patrick felt as if his bones were shivering. But as much discomfort as he was in, he couldn’t imagine what Gin-us was going through. I guess he wasn’t lying when he said the cold would hit him hard.

  It was around the fifth time Patrick stopped to check on Gin-us that he found him lying on the ground, a thin layer of snow already covering him. Without a word to Frize, Patrick turned and ran back as quickly as he could and pulled the tent out; it was time for a rest. It took a few extra minutes for Patrick to get the tent up, due to a lack of instructions and his surely frostbitten fingers. But, within five minutes the tent was up and Gin-us dragged inside. Thankfully the technology was still working.

  Frize, who at this point realized he was walking alone and had trekked back, helped Patrick lift Gin-us up into one of the beds. Patrick decided it was best for him to take a short rest, while Frize insisted he stand guard outside. There were no objections to this plan and Frize exited the tent, a brisk wind blowing in as the tent flapped shut behind him. Patrick was exhausted, but looking at Gin-us, he was filled with worry. The shivering was uncontrollable, and Patrick didn’t know what to do.

  “Hang in there, Gin-us,” Patrick thought aloud, “I refuse to lose another friend on this journey.”

  He gave Gin-us an extra blanket and then climbed under his own. His worried thoughts drifted between Gin-us and Flupotia, as sleep slowly consumed him.

  ◆◆◆

  “Patrick…”

  Patrick woke sometime later, forgetting where he was. “No Mom…” it must be time for school, he thought, “five more minutes.”

  “Patrick… Patrick… Patrick,” Gin-us’ voice cracked between breaths as his body convulsed rapidly.

  Patrick rolled over, slowly realizing the voice wasn’t his mother. As his eyes adjusted to the light he remembered where he was and what he was supposed to be doing. There was no telling how much time had passed since he fell asleep, and this time he didn’t bother to look at his watch. Even an hour was too much time in his mind. Every second gave the aliens more time to react and fight back. Patrick climbed out of bed and crouched next to Gin-us.

  “Gin-us.” Patrick placed his hand on Gin-us’ shoulder to steady him. “I’m here, are you okay?”

  Gin-us’ eyes opened wide to the point of bulging. “Patrick, where are we? Did we make it to the orb yet?”

  “No, you passed out in the cold. I had to get the tent set up and you inside. Frize is outside standing guard for us.”

  Gin-us looked down and assessed his current state. “You can’t waste your time waiting for me to get better,” he sighed as he made up his mind, “leave me here and go get the orb.”

  Patrick’s fears came to life as the panic began to rise. “I can’t do that!” He shouted, while in his head screaming no, not again! “You should be better with a few more hours of sleep and warmth, right? We’ll just wait. We’ve got the time.”

  They didn’t have the time.

  “Patrick!” Gin-us said it louder than he intended, using far too much energy. “Take Frize and go,” his voice was much calmer now. “I’m not asking you, I’m telling you. Enough time has been wasted lying here watching over me. While I appreciate it, a couple of hours could very well be the difference between winning and losing this battle. You need to go. Now.”

  “I can’t leave you! I’ve already left Flupotia behind, and now you too? This whole thing is ridiculous! We are staying and waiting until you’re able to come with us.”

  “Please, Patrick. Go. I promise I will be here waiting when you come back. Even if you wait for me to get better, what good am I going to be? The cold is only going to get worse the further we travel. You can trust Frize. Have faith. I know this is hard, but I know you’re harder. There is a lot riding on our success. Please, go now.”

  Patrick knew he was right, but it still didn’t sit well in his stomach. “I don’t like this, passing off from one companion to the next. You know, I was just starting to like you.” Patrick reverted to humor to bury his fear.

  Gin-us chuckled though, understanding it was only a joke. But with that chuckle, Patrick realized how right Gin-us was. He was struggling to breathe after just the short conversation, there was no way he could go on at this point. It was a heavy weight for Patrick to carry, constantly losing all his companions and being passed on to the next one. He grabbed his bag, threw on an extra sweater and stepped out into the cold to continue on with Frize. The trust for Frize still wasn’t really there, but there was no other choice for Patrick. It was a waste of time to try and fight the inevitable.

  Once out in the cold, Frize didn’t even bother to ask where Gin-us was. With a curt nod towards Patrick, Frize began walking away from their small camp and deeper into the snow. Well, thought Patrick, so much for another friend. The lack of conversation left Patrick kind of missing the incessant droning from Flee.

  Thoughts of Flee and Frize turned into wondering what the future held for his battles or alliances with the Firemen and Icemen. Without exposure to any beyond Flee or Frize, he could only guess the two were representative of their species general demeanors. Flee the ball of fire buzzing around, unable to contain his energy. Then there was Frize, the polar opposite, reserved and quiet. Yet somehow, the two still managed to form some kind of friendship over the years.

  While Patrick was wrapped in his own thoughts, Frize was struggling to continue on. What Patrick didn’t realize was that Frize wasn’t quite himself in the moments they’d spent together. In the short time since he had joined up on the quest, he had been through more than he dared to admit. His eyes were droopy and tired-looking and he shuffled through
the snow, too lazy to pick up his feet. He was desperately trying to hold off the exhaustion creeping in. Knowing he was new to this team, he didn’t want Patrick to see any weakness in him. So he pushed forward, always staying ahead of Patrick no matter how much it hurt.

  As both struggled through the snow, they realized the terrain was slowly changing around them. Their eyes had grown used to the blinding white of the snow and ice, so when a purplish glow began to grow in the landscape around them, neither believed it at first. As they continued their trek, they noticed the purples becoming brighter and more vibrant, the snowflakes catching the light as it bounced off the iced over walls. The hair on Patrick's arms and the back of his neck stood up as chills raced down his spine. Frize felt a prickly sensation deep within himself that radiated to the surface, feeling as if something was trying to crawl its way out. Both came to the realization slowly that they were getting close to the orb.

  Despite the cold, Patrick began to sweat, nervous about what dangers lie ahead. Both of their hearts raced as they turned the corner, and then their hearts dropped. There it was, right in front of them. The orb.

  Even though Flupotia had described the orb to Patrick, there was no way to truly understand what it looked like until one actually saw it. It was nothing Patrick expected it to be; it was far more. The orb burned a bright violet color with a hazy glow that seemed to come from deep within the sphere. The purple on the ice was a reflection cast from the orb, with purple hues shooting in every direction, bouncing off the icy ground and walls. Although the orbs color reached a great distance in every direction, the orb was much smaller than Patrick imagined it to be, no larger than a golf ball. The entire site was beautiful, and the two of them stood still in awe and wonder.