MELT: A Psychological Thriller (11 page)

BOOK: MELT: A Psychological Thriller
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'Show me,' said Megan.

Chrissie raised an eyebrow. 'You want to share resources? Then let's share your phone.'

 Megan clamped her hand over her pocket.

'I thought not,' said Chrissie.

Megan waved at Chrissie’s pocket. 'Having two watches won’t get you out of here twice as fast.’

'We'll see,' said Chrissie,
walking toward the sound of Alex chipping ice
. 'I hope the men have hunted up some water, because this gatherer is thirsty.'

'You're supposed to be watching the bomb,' called Megan.

Chrissie called over her shoulder, 'Ericsson's watching it now.'

 

 

#

 

 

'What was that all about?' asked Alex, turning from the ice.

'We put Ericsson under the bomb,' explained Megan.

After a moment of awkward silence, Megan held up her phone. '
Glen, can I record your details?'

'Sure.'

Megan started the voice recorder. ‘Go ahead.’

Glen leaned toward the phone. 'I'm Glen Parkyn. I’m from Portland, Oregon. I'm twenty-eight. I work as a telephone support technician for Linksys. I work nights.’

Glen shrugged.

'Describe your abduction,' prompted Megan.

'Oh, it happened at home,’ Glen said. ‘In the morning. I didn’t see their faces, but I think they were both men. They both wore full protective suits. Like those biohazard suits.’

‘Really?’ Alex asked. ‘Full suits? That’s pretty conspicuous.’

‘That’s what they wore,’ nodded Glen. ‘Head to toe. They lured me out of the house by cutting off my power. Once I was outside they trapped me.’

‘Did you fight back?’ asked Alex.

‘Of course. I head-butted one, but his mask protected him.’

‘Did they say anything?’ asked Megan.

Glen shook his head. ‘They didn't say a word. It was over pretty quickly.’

Megan wasn’t sure what else to ask. ‘Do you think anyone might have seen it happen? A neighbor or maybe someone driving past?’

Glen looked away for a moment, thinking. ‘No. They planned it well. They trapped me where no one could see us. Only my cat saw it happen.’

Glen pointed at the phone as though suddenly remembering something important. 'This is pretty weird. They returned my mail and my slippers. I lost them before the struggle, but after they cut off my power. When I woke up, I had them again.’

'Same with me,' said Megan. 'They returned my bag. Even my phone.'

‘Why would they return our belongings?’ asked Alex.

Megan had no idea.

‘I’m sorry,’ Glen said. ‘I’ve got nothing else to say.’

 

 

#

 

 

'Okay, it's coming...coming...got it!'

Alex jerked the object free.

Ice shards showered over everyone.

Alex turned to reveal what he’d pulled from the ice.

Megan backed up a step.
What is that horrible thing
?
A basketball squashed by a steamroller?

'It looks like a giant dried prune,' said Victoria.

Glen tilted his head. 'Or a dried elephant's ballbag.'

'Fucking hell,' cried Alex, dropping the leathery disk.

'For God's sake!' complained Victoria. 'Can't you stop swearing for just one minute?'

'I think Glen’s right,' said Chrissie.

‘Nonsense,' pointed Victoria. ‘It has a drawstring, see? It’s a leather bag.’

'That's just a big nutsack wrinkle,' said Alex.

Megan took a photo of the thing.

Carl crouched and pointed with the knife tip. ‘Someone's used animal tendon for string. It's threaded through here, see? I think it
is
a bag.'

‘Let’s open it,’ said Glen.

Carl braced the leathery disk under his boot. He cut away the edge, leaving the drawstring intact. With a series of icy cracking sounds, he pried open the bag.

Megan knelt for a better view of the mess inside.

'Are those grasshoppers?' pointed Glen.

'And grubs,' pointed Chrissie. 'And a lizard. Look, its tail has black stripes.'

Carl pried something free.

He held it up to the light.

'It's a needle,' said Megan, taking a picture. 'A bone needle.'

Carl compared the bone needle to the tendon drawstring. 'Probably what the owner used to sew this scrotum bag.'

'It's really a giant ballbag then?' asked Glen.

Carl nodded. 'We've found a ten thousand year old lunchbox.'

'Maybe not that old,' reasoned Megan. 'People still eat grasshoppers and lizards today.'

'Not from nutsack lunchboxes, they don’t,' said Alex. 'It could be from the Stone Age for all we know.’

Carl studied the ice. 'You were right, Alex. We just needed to dig to find food.'

Megan wasn't hungry enough to eat
anything
wrapped for ten thousand years in a scrotum.

Alex agreed. 'I'm not eating ballbag surprise.'

 'It's better than starving,' said Chrissie.

I’ll never be that hungry
, hoped Megan.

‘Better put it under some ice,’ said Carl. ‘Just in case.’

 

 

#

 

 

His story was incredible.

Megan recorded everything Alex remembered about his abduction.

She saved the audio file with the recordings from Carl and Alex.

Everyone’s abduction was so different. There’s no pattern I can see. I need more information.

Chrissie just swore at Megan like a brooding teenager when Megan asked for her story.

Megan asked Alex, 'So Chrissie didn't mention her abduction at all?'

'Not a single word.’

Megan blew into her hands and glanced toward Ericsson. Along with his brains, his story lay smeared under a ton of stone.

'She's mumbling again,' whispered Alex.

Victoria walked past.

'She can’t last much longer without water,' said Megan.

‘She won’t take anything from the ice,’ said Alex.

Alex pulled the Sprite bottle from under his shirt. 'Better fill this up again.'

Megan took the bottle. 'If she doesn't drink she'll pass out and freeze to death. She knows that.'

Alex shrugged. 'Maybe she wants that. I don't understand her at all.'

Victoria confused Megan too. She was helpful one moment, then spitting like a cobra the next. Right now she looked exhausted. Every dozen steps she rested with her hand on the wall.

She must be badly dehydrated.

‘I’m going to check on her.’

Megan began following at a discreet distance.

Victoria stopped to rest again. This time she rested much longer.

Is she going to fall?

Glen joined Megan.

'What’s she doing?' he asked.

'I don’t know. What's the time?'

‘Where’s your watch?’

‘I don’t have one.’

Glen tapped his nerdy-looking watch. 'This is a Casio W800. It has a ten year battery life. If I die, it’s all yours.'

'That's not funny in here.'

'Sorry,' said Glen, lifting his watch for Megan to read.

2:52 pm

Megan spotted her deodorant bottle near the wall.
How did this get here?

'DON'T TOUCH THAT!'

Megan jerked back like a rattlesnake had lunged for her fingers.

Victoria had shrieked like a banshee.

'Jesus, Victoria!' Megan exclaimed, lifting her hands defensively. 'You frightened me. Calm down.'

'What are you yelling for?' demanded Glen.

'Don't you
dare
touch that.’ Victoria shoved her index finger in Megan's face. ‘That could save our lives.'

Megan backed away.

She’s lost it.

'Why shouldn't I touch it?' Megan asked gently.

Victoria glared back. 'Well, it didn't just grow legs and walk here, did it, you silly, patronizing little girl? I put it there!

Glen and Megan swapped glances.
What the hell?

Victoria wasn't exhausted at all. She sounded more alert and motivated than any of them.

Carl and Chrissie approached from the other direction.

'You're dehydrated,’ said Carl.

Victoria pinched the bridge of her nose. ‘Are Chrissie and I the only people with more than half a brain in this chamber?’

Carl reached for Victoria's arm.

'Leave her alone,' shouted Chrissie. ‘Let her talk.’

Victoria smiled at Chrissie. 'Can you feel it, Chrissie?'

Megan fumbled with her phone and started recording.

Chrissie stood beside Victoria. 'Do you know something we don't, Victoria?'

Victoria pointed at the deodorant bottle. 'That direction is south.'

She crossed her arms and waited.

Glen looked around at the others. 'She's just making stuff up now.'

Carl said, 'Without a compass it's impossible to find south in here.'

Victoria shot Carl a calculating look. ‘You hate smart women, don’t you, Carl? You like deciding what's impossible.’

'You can’t change the laws of physics,' replied Carl.

'Exactly,' said Victoria. 'Nor of time and thermodynamics. For all your climbing and fancy phones, you still haven't learned anything. You've put all your trust in machines and forgotten to use the senses that God gave you. When your machines don't work, you don't work. You might as well
be
machines.'

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