MELT: A Psychological Thriller

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MELT: A Psychological Thriller Page 6

by Shane M Brown


  'That's what I thought,' confirmed Carl.

  Glen nodded. ‘She made it sound like I wanted to piss against the wall like a dog.’

  'Forget her,' said Alex, passing Glen the umbrella. ‘Just aim carefully unless you want a visit from the pee-police.’

  Glen rolled his eyes and headed for the drain.

  Megan moved to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Alex. Staring thoughtfully into the ice, he looked like anything but a schoolboy.

  'How old are you, Alex?'

  ‘Seventeen.'

  Megan waited, but he didn't ask her age.

  'That was close,' Megan said quietly.

  Alex wet his hands on the ice. He rubbed his wet hands on his face.

  Megan practically saw the schoolboy mask drop back into place again.

  'Too bad,' he joked. 'We had front row seats to the only cage match in town.'

  Nonsense, thought Megan.

  'I think my money would have been on Chrissie,' continued Alex. 'Her fingernails look like talons.'

  Megan knew what Alex meant. Chrissie wasn't taking any prisoners, and with every passing minute Megan realized that nobody in this place was who they seemed to be.

  Chapter Six

  The Band-Aid looked ancient.

  Megan didn't care.

  Her ear felt much worse than Glen had described. She could poke her little finger easily through the area of missing cartilage.

  She carefully pressed down the sticky tabs.

  Shit, that stings! Ouch! Ouch! Ouch!

  'Where'd you find that?' asked Victoria.

  'In my wallet,' said Megan.

  'Do you have any more?'

  ‘No. Just this one.’

  Victoria eyed Megan's bag.

  'Check if you don’t believe me,' said Megan.

  'Don't be silly,' said Victoria, still eyeing the bag.

  Megan stuffed the wrapper in her jean’s pocket as Carl came around the ice. The others followed.

  She’d left them all arguing about the bomb.

  Just leave me out of it, Megan thought.

  ‘Megan,’ Carl said. 'Did the phone get a signal up on the ice? You didn’t tell us.’

  ‘What?’

  Glen blew into his hands. 'Alex’s phone. The one in the vent. Did it get a signal?’

  Megan slapped her hand over her mouth. A signal? I don’t know. I fell before I could check!

  She peered desperately around the group. 'I can't remember. I mean...I don't think I checked.'

  Megan shivered and stood up.

  Everyone bombarded her with questions.

  Chrissie’s voice cut through their questions like a razor through steam.

  'Everyone shut up!’ she ordered.

  Chrissie met Megan’s eyes. ‘Think carefully, Megan. Our lives depend on this. Did you check? Yes or no.’

  'No,' admitted Megan, rushing to add, ‘but I had no chance to check. I barely reached the vent. I’m sorry.’

  Chrissie's mouth dropped open in amazement.

  Carl stepped between Chrissie and Megan. He placed a hand on Megan's shoulder and said, 'Getting the phone to the vent was our goal. She did that.’

  Alex and Glen nodded energetically.

  Chrissie looked like she wanted to launch herself at Megan’s throat. She barely held herself in check.

  When she spoke, she pronounced each word as though English wasn't Megan's first language.

  'What about before the vent?' Chrissie asked tersely. 'Up on the ice? Did you check then?’

  Megan matched Chrissie’s condescending tone. ‘It was slippery. I was trying not to die.’

  Chrissie's resolve broke.

  Her face twisted with blistering hostility.

  'The phone was in your hand!’ Chrissie yelled. ‘You idiot! You stupid fucking idiot!'

  Megan stepped around Carl, coming face-to-face with Chrissie.

  How dare this bitch criticize me, Megan thought angrily. She did nothing to help.

  Chrissie was slightly heavier than Megan, maybe an inch taller. Megan refused to yell like Chrissie, like a spoiled child having a temper tantrum.

  'You didn't even help with the phone, Chrissie. You did nothing. All you do is argue and poke people. Stay away from me.'

  Megan snatched up her bag and walked away, not interested in Chrissie’s reply. No one had ever verbally attacked Megan before. Certainly no one like Chrissie.

  I’m glad I didn’t back down. Not to that spiteful bitch.

  Megan stopped at the bomb.

  Why did I take my bag? Where did I think I was going?

  She set her bag down. Everything in this place had just become even more uncomfortable. At least the argument had warmed her a bit.

  #

  Megan crouched and hugged her knees.

  How long has it been since I woke up?

  She checked her phone.

  Eight hours! It felt more like eight days.

  She studied her iPhone.

  It's just a piece of metal and plastic. I was naive to think it kept me safe.

  Before today, help was only ever a phone call away. Now her phone only reminded her how long she’d been trapped.

  It’s been thirty-two hours since they abducted me. What’s happening outside? What’s Dad doing?

  He would have called her job, then her friends, and then the police.

  The police would take her Dad seriously. Everyone did. Megan remembered the doctors listening carefully to her father when her mom first got sick.

  Megan was last seen at work.

  The shopping center's surveillance cameras would show Megan entering the bathroom, but never leaving. Instead, a woman pretending to be a cleaner had pushed out a cart with a very large bin. It wouldn't take Sherlock Holmes to realize Megan was inside that bin.

  Technology hadn't failed her after all. Her abduction had been recorded.

  Megan studied her phone again.

  You can't make calls, but you can do other things.

  She checked the battery. Ninety percent charged.

  First I’ll use that app to increase battery life.

  The app dimmed the screen instantly.

  What else?

  She scanned her icons, opening folders to check old apps she hadn’t bothered deleting. One folder was titled ‘Dad’s Apps’. Sometimes her dad downloaded boring teaching apps.

  Megan opened her father’s folder.

  Free Algebra Magic?

  Megan began to close the folder, but paused. Alex had used simple algebra to work out the height of the ice. What else could she learn?

  She launched the application, instantly overwhelmed by the list of problems the app could solve. She searched for the word ‘Dome’.

  One result came up:

  Calculator for Volume of a Solid Dome

  Sounds good.

  Even better, it just wanted her to enter the dome’s diameter. Alex already calculated the dome was twelve meters across.

  Megan typed in twelve meters and opted for her answer to appear in gallons.

  Volume of Dome (gal) = 119, 508.30975

  Megan looked up at the dome. There’s over one hundred thousand gallons of water in that thing. That’s incredible.

  Megan moved the algebra app to her home screen with her everyday apps. She scanned her home screen for options.

  Camera. A picture was worth a thousand words. She could even record short videos. She flicked to the next screen.

  Voice Memos. The voice recorder barely used any power and consumed much less memory than a video.

  If nothing else, she could record their ordeal.

  Of course! Of course I need to record what's happening to us! Why didn't I think of this sooner?

  Megan jumped up. She knew exactly where to start.

  Before she could take a single step, Chrissie rounded the ice and blocked her path.

  #

  ‘What do you want?’ asked Megan. ‘I told you to leave me alone.’

  N
ow Megan had something constructive to do, she couldn’t be bothered with Chrissie’s nonsense.

  Chrissie adjusted her neck sock against the cold.

  'I want to apologize,' she said.

  ‘Sure,’ said Megan, trying to walk around her.

  ‘Wait,’ said Chrissie. 'Just listen to me. I have a daughter. She’s only four. I was supposed to pick her up from daycare yesterday. It's driving me crazy. That’s why I’m so angry. It’s not you.’

  Chrissie didn’t seem the motherly type, let alone a mother missing a four year old.

  How would I act if I was separated from my child? Probably angrier than Chrissie. She’s got nowhere to vent but at us.

  'Will she be all right?' Megan asked.

  'No!’ blurted Chrissie. ‘I won full-time custody of Maddie because my ex-husband abused her. He's appealed the decision. He’s fighting for joint custody, and my lawyer says he’s got a good chance of winning. He’s probably got her right now!’

  Jesus, thought Megan. That’s awful.

  'How did he abuse her?' Megan asked, hoping it wasn't sexual.

  'Drugs,’ answered Chrissie. ‘He crushed valium tablets into our daughter’s juice so he could party with his drug-head friends.'

  This woman has serious family issues, thought Megan.

  'I’m sorry I’m so volatile,’ said Chrissie. ‘I need to get out of here to protect my daughter. That’s why the phone signal was so important to me. Do you understand?'

  Megan did. She nodded. 'You were right. I should have checked the signal. I'll do better now.'

  'How?'

  'I'll record what's happening,' replied Megan. 'With my phone.'

  Megan never expected what came next.

  She didn’t know Chrissie could move so fast.

  Chrissie leapt at Megan, grabbing for her phone.

  #

  Megan jerked away, startled, cupping her phone to her chest. 'Hey! What are you doing?'

  Chrissie barely restrained herself.

  ‘Oh, God — I’m sorry! Your phone's exactly like mine. I thought you'd found it. Mine was in the car when they took me.'

  Megan gripped her phone tightly. 'How did they abduct you, Chrissie?'

  'My iPhone's the exact same model,' Chrissie pointed out. 'Have you increased the battery life?'

  She completely ignored my question, thought Megan. She’s keeping her abduction a secret.

  'Megan!' prompted Chrissie, clicking her fingers rudely under Megan's nose. 'Are you listening? Have you extended the battery life?'

  Am I listening to her? She's all over the place. She talks but doesn't listen.

  ‘Yes,’ nodded Megan.

  Chrissie stepped close. Megan smelled her sour breath.

  Yuck.

  Chrissie said urgently, 'I use my iPhone for absolutely everything. I know every app back-to-front. Let me do it.'

  Megan retreated from Chrissie’s bad breath and terrible idea.

  ‘No way.’

  Chrissie looked confused. 'But it makes sense. Should we ask the others?’

  ‘Ask whoever you want,’ retorted Megan. ‘I’m not giving you my phone.’

  ‘But I need this,' begged Chrissie. ‘I need to keep my mind off Maddie.’

  'Carl has a phone,' said Megan. 'Use his.'

  'The big yellow one? It’s not a smart phone. It doesn't even have a camera. It’s a piece of shit.’

  Chrissie unclasped the thick gold necklace from under her neck sock. 'You see this? This cost me seven thousand dollars. You can have it.'

  'I don’t want it.’

  Chrissie tried to press the jewelry into Megan’s hand.

  Megan jerked her hand free.

  The jewelry skittered across the floor.

  Chrissie looked up angrily, but calmed herself.

  ‘Can we share it then? You will miss things. Vital things. I won't miss anything. You see that, right?'

  Chrissie wasn’t giving up.

  Megan remembered something her father said.

  ‘Chrissie, you can have this phone when you pry it from my cold, dead hands. Understand?’

  Chrissie walked over and picked up her necklace. ‘I'm not a thief.'

  'I don't know who you are,' said Megan, pocketing her phone firmly. ‘I don’t know who any of you are.’

  Suddenly, Megan realized what really mattered.

  ‘But I know who I am. And that’s all I need.’

  Chapter Seven

  Tsk, tsk, tsk... Tsk, tsk, tsk...

  Pause.

  Tsk, tsk, tsk... Tsk, tsk, tsk...

  Chrissie strode around the ice. Megan followed. Everyone converged on the noise.

  Everyone except Alex.

  Because Alex was making the noise.

  He had a knife.

  Using the knife tip, he was chipping into the ice like a woodpecker.

  Tsk, tsk, tsk... Tsk, tsk, tsk...

  'STOP!' shrieked Victoria. 'What are you doing? You idiot!'

  Alex turned and popped an ice chip into his mouth. 'I’m thirsty. Want some?'

  Megan discretely started her phone's voice recorder. She crossed her arms to conceal her phone.

  'Where'd you find a pocket knife?' asked Carl.

  Probably his pocket, thought Megan.

  ‘It’s mine,’ mumbled Alex through the ice. ‘I've had it the whole time.’

  ‘He’s lying,' said Victoria. ‘All he does is lie.’

  'Go thirsty then, you old witch.’

  ‘They let you keep that?’ asked Carl.

  ‘The woman who abducted me was terrified,’ said Alex. ‘I’m sure she was being forced. She knew I had it and she let me keep it.’

  ‘What?’ cried Chrissie. ‘And you’re only telling us now?’

  ‘Maybe she’ll help us,’ said Megan.

  Glen pointed at the knife. 'She already has. Can I see it?'

  'Here. Be careful. It’s sharp.'

  Megan wanted to ask about Alex’s abduction, but she wanted some ice more.

  Alex tossed her an ice crystal. ‘Plenty more where that came from.’

  Megan popped the freezing diamond straight into her mouth.

  Cripes, that's good.

  Carl said, ‘You’re supposed to be watching the bomb, Glen.’

  ‘Sorry. Okay.’

  Glen handed Carl the knife and rushed off.

  ‘Why hide this from us, Alex?'

  'I don't know you people.'

  Alex tossed Megan more ice without being asked.

  Megan didn’t care about the knife. One problem at a time. Survival came first.

  'Well, you're not keeping it,' Victoria declared. 'Don't give it back to him, Carl.'

  Carl ignored her and gave Alex back his knife.

  ‘He hasn’t done anything wrong,’ said Megan.

  'She’s right,' said Carl flatly. 'And we need water. My tongue has cracks in it.'

  'Use your brains,' implored Victoria. ‘It already killed Ericsson. This ice is evil. We shouldn’t interfere with it.’

  'Evil ice tastes pretty good,' said Alex.

  'Chrissie?' prompted Victoria, looking for support.

  'I'm so thirsty I can hardly think,’ admitted Chrissie. ‘We have no choice, Victoria.’

  Alex started digging again.

  Tsk, tsk, tsk...

  Victoria looked at the ice in Megan’s hand.

  ‘That ice will kill you all.’

  #

  Glen pulled the Sprite bottle from his robe. ‘Anyone want some warm armpit water?’

  ‘Not yet,’ said Megan.

  Alex accepted the bottle. ‘It’s better than chewing solid ice. My gums are bleeding.’

  They were taking turns digging with the knife.

  Victoria passed again, walking laps to keep warm.

  Megan needed to speak to Victoria alone.

  Here’s my chance.

  She rushed to catch up with Victoria, but Victoria's steps suddenly faltered.

  Megan glanced ah
ead.

  Chrissie was interfering with Ericsson's corpse.

  She was supposed to be watching the bomb.

  Megan and Victoria froze, too close now to backtrack.

  'What's she doing?' whispered Megan, but Victoria ignored her.

  Chrissie lifted Ericsson's right leg and jerked his hips from the wall.

  She's moving his corpse.

  Still holding Ericsson’s leg, Chrissie turned and looked at them. 'Well?'

  'Well, what?' asked Megan.

  'Well, why are you just standing there? Either help or keep walking.'

  'What are you even doing?'

  Chrissie waved from Ericsson to the ice. ‘Are you blind and stupid?’

  What am I missing?

  Megan approached a few steps. Oh, of course!

  Megan remembered falling on Glen. He'd felt like a bony trampoline. Ericsson’s solid frame would make a perfect human trampoline for when the bomb fell.

  ‘You're putting Ericsson under the bomb. Will it work?'

  'Not if he’s all the way over here,' Chrissie shot back.

  Megan glanced back at Victoria.

  'Hurry up,’ hissed Victoria. ‘Help her.'

  Megan braced herself for gore, but Chrissie had concealed Ericsson's head with his shirt.

  'What's that?'

  'A nicotine patch,’ answered Chrissie. ‘An old one. Lazy prick never took it off.'

  Megan shouldn't have asked. The patch on Ericsson’s shoulder made him a real person again.

  'I'll get the others,' said Megan.

  Chrissie snatched her arm.

  'Don't you dare,' she hissed. ‘We don't need their permission.'

  Megan yanked her arm free. 'I meant their help, not their permission.'

  'It's the same thing now,' said Victoria. ‘They're making enough decisions already.’

  ‘They’re making the wrong decisions,’ said Chrissie. 'They didn't even put Ericsson against the ice. They'd let him rot. Have you ever stopped in traffic near road kill, Megan? It makes you almost vomit in your lap. Well, we've got two hundred pounds of human road kill in our bedroom now.'

  Two hundred pounds of rotting Ericsson, thought Megan. Locked in here with us.

 

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