Warm as ice: Chapter 1, Illiete.

Warm as ice: Chapter 1, Illiete.

I set my eyes on the rough sea ahead of me. It batters against the ice like a ram against a door but the ice still holds and grows stronger still. I fear the sea almost as much as death but the sea does not fear me in return; it holds no respect for the little creatures. It has taken many ice runners like me but I am careful, experienced even. The deathly wind burrows into my face, like maggots into a corpse; it would reduce me to an unnoticed frozen corpse easily as Leo dispatches a fish if it wasn't for my heavy duty clothes. It is standard uniform for all ice runners and anyone who works or visits outside the dome. Outside the dome nothing but the toughest or most prepared can survive; it is completely exposed to the toughest elements. I am both in my opinion. I'm prepared and I am experienced. I doubt the other girls could do what I do every day for the past 7 years and not run and panic.

When I am ready to begin I start to spread out my weight so to not crack the ice and fall through. Slowly, I edge forward towards the edge, ice axe held in my right hand as tightly as a penguin holds onto its egg. If I lose the axe I come home with what I got. I will also have to pay for a new one and they don't come cheap, very specialised equipment. It is the necessary tool for all ice runners; it is what we use to pick away at the ice which is necessary for the towns survival.

The reason why we take the risks of picking near the edges is because anywhere else, the ice is too thick and strong to break. Its millions of years of snow all packed up to form an impenetrable barrier tough enough to survive the incessant picking of generations and the harsh winds coming in from the sea. The same thing that we fear also allows us to survive ironically.

I start edging forward, my boots make little crunching noises as I progress. My black hair hangs in a pony tail behind me, it's cold but not as cold as the sea which reassures me that I am not in the sea yet and doomed to my death. No matter how many times you do this you still feel some tension and fear but it does dim to a numbness eventually. But it's all you think about.

Don't fall in. Don't fall in.

Glancing back I see my backpack. In it is some extra supplies in: A warm blanket; dry clothes; torch; map; water and other useful supplies. I always carry with me Leo's rope toy, a simple one I made back when I was 9; He won't get bored but I like something personal with me. Speaking of him he is also sitting next to my backpack attentive and alert of any problems. Killer whales although rare now days, still roam the waters in search of limited prey. They will take on anything from fish to human. The are ravenous and cunning; I'm sure they won't pass up a worn out teenage girl as their next meal.

I continues onwards across the ice; I'm there in no time. I kneel down onto one knee about half a metre from the water's edge. I scrape a moderate sized chunk of ice sticking out into the water, it creates an irritating noise that makes Leo pin is ears back in annoyance; it would do the same to mine if we could do that. Mind you if we had what dogs have for example thick fur I wouldn't need all this insulating clothing. Using the other end of the axe which is similar to a chisel I deepen the ridge in the ice. Soon I have a satisfying ridge in the ice as a guide for me.

Now for the difficult bit. The bit that still scares me.

Taking the ice out.

To take the ice out one must lean over the ocean and chip it out until it falls. Then I must hook the ice and pull it back over before it floats away. The problem is the ice sure weighs a heck of a lot and could pull me in and if I have miscalculated the size; I might not be able to even disconnect it from the mainland!

The job of an ice runner is an infuriating and difficult one. But I relish the challenge of it. Besides if I do not the whole town will die of dehydration. It gives me authority to be one of the oldest ice runners. Nimble and fast I am the perfect build for one, heck I might even tutor later on! Only the toughest have what it takes to risk the dangers of the coast as the ice anywhere else would be rock solid and impossible to even dent with the toughest of tools and the smartest of inventors.

It's habit to hesitate when doing this stuff but I can't hold back for long; dusk is coming and with it, night and accompanying that is the high winds and sub-zero temperatures of a cruel area. The sun is low on the horizon but not low enough that I would get worried. Still, sooner rather than never.

I drop down onto one knee then flat on my front with the precision of a trained craftsman. Then I smoothly lay down onto my front so I can spread my body weight as much as possible. I squirm forward like a very hungry caterpillar towards the edge. Soon half my torso is hanging over the sea; it's waves crash against the ice gently but still with enough force to dash tiny crystals of freezing water over my cheek. I stop when I am as far out as I can go, if I go to far I won't have enough weight on the land and I will teeter over into the sea.

I also need to create footholds when I pull the ice out otherwise it could drag me in. As well as being our mayor Mayor Mackleberry is also head of the team for all the specialist equipment. He helped to designed things like my axe, the dome, special clothing and my boots specialised in spreading weight and, with hard toes, kicking footholds in the ice without smashing our feet's to pieces. Using them I create footholds that restrict the movement of my feet for safety reasons.

Now finally, with the precautions set, I start picking away at the side of the ice peninsula closest to the sea; if I disconnect it I can take it out and get back to the Lockdown before it gets dark. I definitely think I deserve a rest.

For what feels like hours I pick away at the ridge, hanging upside down for this long makes me feel dizzy and strange. The ice groans and moans as I continue my relentless challenge. I see many lines of defeat fly over the area around the ridge. Suddenly a loud crack emanates from it and I smile tiredly but still with joy. Quickly as I can, tired though I am, I lunge at the slowly sliding ice with the pick embedding it deep in the ice.

Immediately I feel a large pressure threatening to rip my arm off, I have no time to react or check if the axe is secure for the weight is too great. I fight it with all my strength to stop it plummeting into the sea. It has gravity and only one way to go on it's side but I have my experience, technology and raw determination. With it I slowly but surely make it rise up. I can't go much quicker than a slow crawl up, ice weighs more than most people respect it for, if you don't respect it you die.

My face is red with excursion, I can't hold on much longer! I think to myself. I close my eyes pulling blindly now. I realise that I underestimated the size of it and now I'm paying the price. Still I pull tightly gripping the bumped, rubber grip of the axe in both hands. It's do or die, I can't stop as the axe is too deep. I will either finish the task or die trying. I can't feel the coolness of the air because I am so hot from all this use of energy. Just when I think I'm going to black from tiredness the pressure in my arms dissipates rapidly. I peel open one eye to see the precious cargo stationary on the ice, It's almost as if it is sighing in defeat.

Slow and painful won this race but no thanks to overconfidence. I learnt a lesson here today. I allow myself a few seconds rest but I know I must get going; the sun will set soon and they close the Lockdown at night. No one can survive night out here.

I sit up and stare at the ice although it is tiring to sit up. Damn you... Though my displeasure at this article is obvious I still have to bring it back. I stab into it one last time and start dragging it along the ice, hitting it a bit harder than I should do...