Reject The Heat, Please

The screams that day. 

They could shake the earth. Maybe they did. 

Scientists didn’t understand the sudden change. How it went from seventy to a hundred-seventy.

People slammed their doors, closed their shutters.

Death after death after death. 

The Earth was slowly vanishing. 

Layla didn’t know what to do.

~~~~~~

It was Day Forty-Two for Layla Foreman. 

Her father had already died because with his disease his body couldn’t restrain the heat.

Her sister was sick because they didn’t have any food. Nobody could go to the grocery store, to work, to anywhere anymore. 

Layla and her mother were the only ones that could do tasks in the house. 

“Layla, can you please get some water?” 

Layla sprints towards the dried-up faucet and turns the handles. Nothing. Not a drop. “Mom!” she shouts. 

Layla looks around. Around twenty small fans sat untidily on their kitchen floor. Some slowed their pace, others flustered air that had little effect. There was no light. The light had heat, and any extra heat would be death to the Foremans. The windows were covered in metal slips. Wood and cloth would catch on fire, as poor Layla had to find out the hard way. A gallon of water splashed on their kitchen tiles Day Fifteen.

This is worse than COVID, Layla thinks. “MOM!” she shouts again. Her face starts to sweat and water drops to the floor, evaporating immediately. Reply. Mom, reply! 

“Sorry!” A cough. Another cough. “Can you go to the bathroom to see if there’s any water?” 

Exhale. Mom is fine. Go check the bathroom, now. Layla jumps over the fans and reaches the bathroom door. Her hand grabs the metal knob to turn it and she winces. 

“OUCH!” she shouts, shaking her hand to cool the burn. Towel, where’s a towel? In the corner of her eye, she notices a black and white striped towel that had been dry for days. 

Back and forth, back and forth. Over and over and over again. Dangers lurk every corner, even inside.

Finally, she gets inside the bathroom and turns the small hinge. Nothing. . . no water. Layla starts to panic. 

“Mom, there’s nothing!”

“Okay. Then. . . then. . .” her words are lost in the knowledge of defeat. “Then we’ll have to go to the WaterStation.”

Layla lets a small sliver of a tear escape the corner of her eye. That means going outside, she thinks. 

Thump, thump, thump! Her feet pound on the steps as she speeds upstairs, where her mother and sister await.

The carpet is soft and much cooler than the burning tiles and hard floors. Layla’s bare feet dig into it, enjoy it. Her sister and mother are in the coolest room in the house, the bathroom. 

Twisting open the bathroom door, Layla steps in. The tiles are cool and for some reason the bathroom rejects heat. It’s a small bathroom, with poor Lilac sleeping in the bathtub, her feet sticking out just an inch. Her mother sits beside her, holding the last water from the bathroom and the bits of food the family has left. 

Look at her. Oh, Lilac.

Lilac is pale white. Her forehead is sweating because of the heat, and she’s practically half-naked, with her shorts and small tank-top. She’s skinny to the bone. A small ponytail holds up her hazel hair so she can rest, and minute by minute, she seems to be getting more and more freckles. 

“She’s getting worse,” Layla’s mother says, gently stroking Lilac’s hair. 

“I see that,” Layla sits next to her mother, who doesn’t look much better. Circles under her eyes, her caramel hair in a loose bun, face sweating, green eyes starting to get weak. 

“We need water,” the voice of her mother’s is so tense, Layla is afraid to break the silence. 

“I’ll go now, then,” Layla arises, and kisses her mother on the top of her head. 

“Make sure to bring an umbrella. And a fan,” her mother demands. Layla nods and leaves the bathroom. 

~~~~~~

Five minutes go by. Then ten. Then fifteen. Layla can’t do it.

You have to, she tells herself, over and over and over again. For Lilac. She’s dying. 

Knock knock knock. Layla, who has been staring at the door the entire time, is completely shocked. 

“What. . .?” It wasn’t possible for someone to be at the door. Not at day, not even at night. Layla’s curiosity takes over and her hand slips on the handle and she twists it open. The sun is so blinding she can’t see the boy that’s in front of her.

“Hi,” he says simply.

What the fu—?

Layla was too lost for words to speak. This boy was standing right in front of her eyes, not affected by the heat in the slightest way. 

This boy with dark, shaggy hair and seemingly Ruby eyes, a simple tee-shirt and jeans-jeans-just looks at Layla. 

“I haven’t seen you in a while,” the boy smiles.

“I’ve never seen you before. What are you talking about?” Layla asks, taking a step back.

“I’m Collin,” the boy pulls out his hand for Layla to shake, but she doesn’t.

“How are you not dead by that sun?” 

“It’s hard to explain. May I come in?” Collin asks, and Layla is hesitant, but she lets him in.

He acts as if he knows right where to go. Collin struts into the living room, sits down on the couch, and waits for Layla. 

Layla looks right into his eyes. She had never seen this boy before, more or less knew him. He was unlike any boy she had ever seen. He just smiles at her, as if the world isn’t ending, as if everything is going to be alright. 

“How,” is all Layla can stutter. 

“This is how Layla Foreman.” Collin stands up and, closing his eyes, he suddenly disappears. Layla gasps. When Collin’s eyes open again, he reappears. 

“You-you-you-” she starts to fall, but grips onto a chair next to her. Her head is spinning, and she starts to get a headache. She always had a headache in the sun, but now it was really painful.

“Water, Layla?” Collin hands her a glass of perfectly cold water. First Layla is unsure if it even exists, does he exist? Is this all the heat tricking her mind? But she grabs the water and splashes half of it all over her head, and it drops to the ground, splattering, then evaporating. She drinks the next half.

“Oh my gosh, that was amazing!” Layla jumps up. She hadn’t had cold water in weeks. Hardly any water at all. Her face is dripping in the nice water and she relaxes, closing her eyes and letting it drip down on her. 

“Do you want me to tell you how I got it?” Collin asks. Layla whisks her face in his direction, nodding vigorously. “You saw me go invisible. My body rejects heat, too. This climate has no effect on me. I can also reject heat on other things, like the water you just used. And where did I get it? Everywhere, really. I travel around, trying to find freshwater. I go door to door handing out water, and life.”

“What do you mean?” 

“I can reject heat on other things,” he repeats.

It sinks in. Layla starts to understand what this means. There’s no more need to worry, no more need to get water, no more need to sit in sorrow, hoping if we make it another day. She couldn’t contain her excitement and jumped up and down. It seemed impossible, but Collin showed it wasn’t.

“I know you, Layla, and I like you. So I’m going to give you the feeling of being cool again,” Collin touches her arm and Layla can feel the power surge through her. Hot, no more. She feels relieved, saved from the heat, no longer sick or in a headache. 

“Please help my mother and sister,” Layla begs. 

“Where are they?” Collin asks, looking around.

“Upstairs. In the bathroom. I’ll take you.”

It was a dream. Was it? It must have been. How many people did he save? Tens? Hundreds? Thousands? Why did he have this power, and how did he get it? How did he know Layla? Layla had never asked so many questions in her life, but right now, only questions slurred through her. 

And before she knew it, her sister and mother were okay, too. 

They could go get food again. They could drink water again. It was a miracle. And like that, Collin was gone. 

No one knew where he lived, but if they did, they couldn’t express their thanks for him. Rumors started to spread. More people could breathe again, go outside again, and day by day, the apocalypse started to end in Jaynard City.

Apparently, Collin Stenward went to Jaynard Middle School. He would sometimes hide and go undetected, and other times he would make friends and act like a normal boy. When the apocalypse started, he healed his friends and family and made his way all over the city. He finally felt special. The news starred him because they could cast news again. Everyone praised him as he went by, but Collin didn’t do it for praise, he did it to help.

Layla couldn’t believe she had never met him, in her own school, this boy full of amazing talent. No one understood how he had the power, and no one wanted to take it away.

Until, well, Day Eighty-Six. 

~~~~~~

Layla sat on the bed of the stream, letting the water tickle her bare feet. It felt relaxing and cozy. Her hands move around in the luscious green grass. Collin had recently replenished the grass to its former health. The sun was shining brightly and seemed much larger than usual, its rays beaming down on the city. Usually, with this weather, Layla would have been dried up to the bone, but she wasn’t. 

I can finally think now. Layla closes her eyes. What was this city like before him? Awful, it was. Fire everywhere. No one could go outside. If they tried they would die. Only the toughest, healthiest lived. And now? 

In the distance, she thought she heard shouting but continues her thinking. Then he appeared. But how? How did he do it? How did he save the city so fast? How did he gain his power? Powers don’t exist. At least, it didn’t.

“Layla! Layla!” 

Layla turns to find Lilac racing towards her. Something is wrong. Lilac looks terrified and upset, and out of breath. She reaches Layla with tears streaming down her eyes.

“What’s wrong, Lilac?” Layla grabs Lilac sternly. “What is it?”

Lilac was breathing deeply, trying to speak. Gulp. More gulps. 

“It’s Collin!” she cries.

“What about him?” 

“Come and see.”

Layla got up and doesn’t bother to put her shoes back on. Both girls bolt to wherever Lilac was taking them. Past the marketplace, Cock Street, Silver Drive, until finally, they reach Town Square.

Oh my god! 

Hundreds of news reporters are gathered around something Layla cannot see. Shouts of anger can be heard miles away. “Stop!” they say. “This is wrong!” they shout. Pushing and pulling and nonsense that doesn’t make sense. Helicopters, high-tech vans, and trucks start to pull up. Police cars, too, Layla notices. Their mom is crying by a couple of her friends, who pat her shoulder. Layla and Lilac grow closer, trying to make out what is happening.

“Let him go! He’s just a boy!” A person shouts.

Layla is pushing past everyone to see the chaos. Then she hears screaming, very intense screaming, and then. . .

“MOM! DAD!”

No, Collin! Layla thinks and sees something she won’t ever forget.

People in yellow suits are pulling Collin down on a cot, strapping him in. Collin tries to go invisible multiple times but they have stripped some band around him that prevents him from doing so. His parents are screaming his name, his father furious, his mother crying. 

“Please, don’t take him!”

Signs are being held up now. They say “Don’t take the boy” or “Leave him be” or “He saved us all, don’t take him away”. The people in the suits couldn’t care less. They’re strangling the boy, probably to test him and see where his powers come from. Now they hook tubes on him, and soon, he’s in a van, and they close the doors, and you can hear the final screams from him inside. 

And he’s taken away, just like that.

An hour later a few are still standing there, in shock. The helicopters were gone, the vans driving away, the police failing to comfort Collin’s parents. 

He’s gone. Their last hope, their treasure, gone.

Layla was heartbroken, and Lilac was too. Before the pandemic, Collin was ignored, just a regular boy, with no purpose or meaning. But he proved himself, and even helped his enemies, like a superhero. Now the government wanted to take him away, to test him, to kill him. So they did, with the coldest hearts of all. 

Layla walks up to Collin’s mother and father. 

“I’m so, so sorry,” she says.

Collin’s mother looked up. “You couldn’t care less,” she says, not bothering to wipe her eyes.

“What?”

“Nobody cared about him, truly. Not before, not now. They just want him for his powers. For what he does to them. That’s why I wanted it to be a secret, so nobody would know. So they would love him how he is, and not for what he can do,” she started to sob again. “And now look. After saving everyone from being dead, he’s the one that’s going to die.”

~~~~~~