MELT: A Psychological Thriller (10 page)

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 ahead.

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.

'We need to
bury
him in ice,' said Megan. 'Not just move

him.'

Chrissie nodded. 'Help me then.'

A better corpse-moving technique occurred to Megan.

'You're doing it wrong,’ she said. ‘When I did first-aid training they taught us how to roll an unconscious person into the recovery position. Let’s roll him. '

Chrissie waved at Ericsson. 'Go ahead.'

Megan knelt and grasped Ericsson's leg.

She snatched her hand back.

He feels like plastic. Cold disgusting plastic.

'Not that easy, is it?' said Chrissie.

Megan's self-control wavered.
Why are they leaving a corpse in here with us? I shouldn't have to do this. No one should have to do this.

An acid-hot tear scorched down Megan's cheek and dripped off her chin.

'Jesus Christ,' complained Chrissie. 'Are you crying now, Megan?'

Am I?
thought Megan.
Is this too much for me?

'No,' she said. ‘I just need something to cover my hands. Can I use your apron, Victoria?'

'Don't be disgusting,' said Victoria. 'He won’t bite you. Just hurry up and do it.'

Megan glared at Victoria.
While you do nothing, as usual, you nasty old witch
.

'Get ready to pull his shoulder,' said Megan.

Megan bent Ericsson's knee into a lever.

'Pull now, Chrissie.'

Both women pulled.

Ericsson's body flopped over and
whumped
onto its front.

And farted.

Braaaaaat!

'Oh, my God!' shrieked Megan, scrambling backward until her back hit the ice.

Both women stared at the body, waiting for any further sign of life.

Ericsson farted again.

Long and loud.

Brraaaaaattttt....taaat...tat...tat.

'He's dead,' said Victoria. 'It's just the gas escaping.'

'Still think your way is better?' asked Chrissie. 'He wasn't doing that
when I was moving him.'

'He's probably empty now,' said Victoria.

Then the smell hit.

Megan covered her nose too late. She dry-wretched, gagged, and then barely managed not to vomit in her pullover.

Dead man's fart!

'Let's just finish this,' said Chrissie, glancing sideways at the bomb.

They did. One roll at a time. Thankfully Ericsson had nothing more to say on the matter.

Breathless, they finally positioned their human trampoline under the bomb.

Megan nearly felt warm. She took a photo with her phone. The image looked like a crime scene photo.

I can’t even remember what he looked like and he only died a few hours ago.

'Where's his watch?' asked Megan.

'What?'

'He was wearing a big black wristwatch.'

'I took it,' admitted Chrissie, tapping an oversized pocket on the fatigues she’d also taken from Ericsson.

'Why? You already have a watch.'

Chrissie shrugged, and Megan realized Chrissie had taken more than just Ericsson's watch.

'What else did you take?'

'Anything useful,' declared Chrissie. ‘Someone has to think around here.'