MELT: A Psychological Thriller (29 page)

Alex asked Megan, ‘Do you think it’s safe?'

Megan stared at the helmet. 'I remember learning in high school that the Roman Empire made big technological advancements in warfare. I think their empire was largest around the time of Jesus Christ.'

'It's in the right ballpark then,' said Alex.

Victoria noticed Chrissie studying her. Chrissie hadn't spoken yet. Not a word all morning. She just stood there, looking haggard and irritable, her arms wrapped around herself.

Is it the radiation? Has she got it now too?

'What?' asked Victoria.

'You're lying.'

Alex and Megan looked between the women.

'About what?' asked Megan.

'Everything,' said Chrissie. 'She's been lying all morning.'

The blunt accusation stunned Victoria. Chrissie was her only ally.

'I'm not lying. What are you talking about?'

Chrissie pointed at the bamboo container. 'That.'

'What about it?'

'Where's the food from inside that container?'

Victoria shook the bamboo. 'There was no food. Just paper.'

Chrissie pointed back around the ice. 'Alex caught you stealing our food, didn’t he?'

Victoria glanced at Alex. 'That's not true. Tell her, Alex.'

Alex shook his head. 'There was no food.'

'She'd already eaten it,' countered Chrissie. 'Or hidden it. That's why you always get up first, isn't it, Victoria? Now you know which objects are safe, you're stealing all our food for yourself!'

Victoria shook her head at the ugly look on Chrissie's face. 'I'm your friend, Chrissie. I'd never steal your food.'

'You're lying!' Chrissie shrieked.

Victoria stepped back, seeing Chrissie's temper nearing eruption.

'That's enough,' said Alex. ‘We have enough to worry about without you inventing problems, Chrissie.'

Chrissie ignored Alex.

She pointed at Victoria. 'You're not eating another thing until you pay me back what you took. And if you steal my food again, I'm going to kill you!

 

 

#

 

 

TWEET! TWEET!

Victoria looked up.

A bird?

Carl was back on his feet, claiming he felt better.

'Was that a phone?' asked Chrissie.

Megan checked her pocket. 'My phone didn't vibrate. Was it yours, Carl?'

Carl held an ancient-looking horseshoe. Viking, probably. They'd just decided the horseshoe fit their timeline of technological developments.

'Mine’s not on,' he said. ‘It’s almost out of charge.’

Everyone looked up.

Up to the phone Megan had wedged into the ceiling vent.

Megan asked, 'Was that your phone, Alex?'

'I didn't hear it,' confessed Alex. 'Mine makes a swooshing sound when it sends a message and two beeps when it receives one.'

Victoria definitely heard two beeps.

'I heard two beeps,' she said, 'I definitely heard two beeps.'

Alex looked shocked. ‘Then it worked.'

'So our message got out?' asked Chrissie.

Alex nodded. 'Our SOS message just went to everybody on my contacts list. My Mom, the police, everybody! Shit — even my teacher knows what's happening.'

'And they know our location?' checked Victoria. 'They can work that out?'

'Absolutely,' said Alex. 'No question about it.'

'Holy shit!' yelled Carl, holding his arms up. 'It worked!'

Megan looked close to tears. Speechless, she hugged Alex and Carl. When she came to hug Victoria, Victoria hugged her back firmly. The hug came just in time because Victoria's legs felt wobbly. She'd been preparing for the worst. Now that rescue seemed likely, the sense of relief nearly overwhelmed her.

Megan said to Alex, 'Your family already knows you're alive. Soon all our families will know.'

Megan looked around at everyone. 'They know where we are. Can you imagine? Everyone knows where we are. They know what happened! They're going to come and get us.'

A dreadful thought occurred to Victoria.

What if they're too late? What if they find us already cooked to death? One hour could make all the difference.

'How long before they find us?' asked Victoria.

'Only minutes on a map,' said Alex.

'I mean physically find us
,'
explained Victoria.

'Less than a day,' answered Carl. 'If we're still in the U.S.'

'And if we're not?' asked Victoria.

Carl's elation seemed to be wearing off. Perhaps the radiation symptoms gripped him again.

He pressed his temples, clearly frustrated. 'Then it will take longer. All that matters is they’re coming.’

Megan counted days on her fingers. 'I might be home for Dad's birthday.'

Rescue is coming
, thought Victoria. W
e could actually get out of this place.

Chapter Twenty

 

Victoria thought of home.

I’ll see my garden again.

It would need some extra attention, but nothing an afternoon's work couldn't set right. It was all waiting for her. Just waiting for her to come back and start up again where she'd left off.

She'd need some new shears.

'I can fix them,' said Carl.

'What?' asked Victoria.

Carl held up the makeshift icepick. 'You were staring at this. I can put them back together again. I kept the bolt. I'd rather not do it with my teeth though.'

Victoria laughed.

Everyone stopped and looked at her.

'What is it?' Victoria asked, suddenly self-conscious.

'Your laugh,' said Megan. ‘You sounded like a different person.'

Victoria shrugged. ‘I used to laugh a lot. Graham made me laugh.’

Carl began chipping the ice again.

'Hey, stop,’ said Alex. ‘What are you doing? We don’t need to chip the ice anymore.’

'I can't just sit around waiting,' said Carl. 'It'll drive me crazy.'

That must have been a challenge in prison
, thought Victoria.

Alex pointed at the ice. 'You might dig out a jar of anthrax, Carl.'

Carl waved Alex over. ‘Look. It’s just an old wooden flute or something. I won’t touch it.'

Alex shook his head. ‘It’s your life.’

A musical instrument?
Victoria took a closer look.

'I think it's a measuring stick,’ she decided. ‘The decimal system fits our timeline.'

'Don't play their silly game now,' said Chrissie. 'It wasn't helping. It couldn't save us.'

'You don't know that,' said Megan.

‘This chamber was going to cook us alive,’ said Chrissie. ‘Your precious collection of artifacts couldn't stop that.'

Chrissie is right
, thought Victoria.
Nothing can change the laws of thermodynamics. Nothing inside that ice could help. Megan was deluding herself.

Megan clearly wasn't convinced. She photographed the Viking horseshoe.

I can't wait to be rid of these people,
thought Victoria.
I can't wait to see my garden. I never want to see any of these people ever again.

'Megan, I need your phone,' Chrissie suddenly asked.

'Why?'

'To delete my goodbye message. It's pointless now.'

Megan navigated her phone's settings. 'This is it. Just push delete.'

She turned the phone to Chrissie.

'I know how to do it. I have the same phone, remember?'

Victoria noticed Megan kept a firm grip on her phone while Chrissie deleted the message. Even with rescue coming, earlier conflicts hadn't been forgiven.

'Anyone else?' asked Megan.

Carl and Alex shook their heads.

'Why keep them?' asked Chrissie.

'I want my brother to hear mine,’ Carl said. ‘I made promises I plan to keep. Mine wasn't about dying. It was about living.'

Alex nodded. 'Same with me.'

Megan said, 'You'll have Maddie back soon, Chrissie. Maybe even tomorrow.'

'One thing at a time,' said Chrissie. ‘I just want to get out first.’

Again Chrissie sounded nothing like a devoted mother. Victoria hadn’t cared before, but after Chrissie accused her of stealing food, everything changed.

She threatened to kill me. She’s on her own now. And I think she’s lying. Let’s find out.

'Why isn't Maddie’s father in jail?' Victoria asked.

'What?'

'He gave your daughter drugs,' said Victoria. 'He should be in jail.'

Chrissie shook her head. 'Other people had drugs at the party. The police couldn't prove it was him, so the judge deemed him an unfit parent and awarded me full custody.'

Nonsense.

Victoria saw loose threads begging to be pulled. 'But you have family. Maddie would go to your family.'

Chrissie glared at Victoria.

'That doesn't mean he couldn't just snatch her!'

Victoria nodded, pretending to agree.
She's lying her head off. I don’t think she even has a daughter.

'I just thought of something awful,' said Alex. 'Glen's family will think he's alive. He was alive when I wrote the SOS message.'

'They won't care,' said Chrissie. 'He killed his father.'

'No, he didn't,' snapped Megan. 'I don't care what that bottle says. He couldn’t do that and we all know it.'

Victoria filtered out the argument.

Most people shouldn't have children.

She’d reached that conclusion years ago, but this experience reinforced it.

Children complicate everything. Even when they're gone, they leave their problems behind for years.

Victoria had been fixing one such problem only minutes before her abduction.

She was in her garden, getting ready to kill a wretched pear tree.

She remembered the heavenly smell of her gardenias blooming.

I'll cut some tomorrow
, she'd decided.
For the kitchen. Where Graham liked them.

Graham loved gardening. He'd be proud of her. Everything was how they'd planned.

If people spent more time gardening,
Graham always said,
the world wouldn't be in such a mess.

He'd point out warzones on the television. 'Look, Victoria, nothing but sand and rock. No gardens. The people have nothing to do but fight each other.'

They'd planned to spend their retirement watching their grandchildren play in the garden, but Mother Nature had different ideas.

Victoria couldn't conceive.

In time, she found herself at peace with the situation. As a teacher she was surrounded by children every day, and in time, secretly, she came to see their child-free home as something of a blessing.

Graham didn't.

He wanted a child. He wanted a family. He wanted exactly what Victoria couldn’t provide.

So they adopted.

In hindsight, Victoria could pinpoint their first piece of bad luck.

The adoption lottery.

After all, what kind of people gave up their children for adoption? Certainly not people with nice gardens.

Alison proved a poor draw from the adoption lottery.

A very poor draw.

As a baby she seemed normal, but as a child she drained Victoria. She wasn't the happy, fun-loving child that Victoria envied of her sisters. Sullen and withdrawn, she constantly clung to Victoria's legs, afraid of everything. Bedwetting. Night terrors. Speech therapy. Alison drained Victoria day and night.

'School will straighten her out,' Victoria's sisters said.

School made things worse.

First the terrible accident and then the lies.

Child Protection Services had simply collected Alison from school on a Friday afternoon.

Two women met Victoria at the school gate.

'Molested?' Victoria almost laughed. 'You have the wrong girl. There's only Graham and myself at home.'

'No visitors? Friends? Older cousins? A neighbor perhaps?'

Victoria shook her head. 'She's never alone with anyone but us.'

'You adopted Alison?'

Victoria paused, angry these people could just invade her personal privacy at the school gate. 'What does that matter? She doesn't know about that. The school doesn't even know about that!'

The woman produced a file with Alison's photo on top. The stack of paperwork inside looked an inch thick. 'This is your daughter, isn't it? This is Alison?'

Victoria dropped her bag. 'So you're just taking her? That's outrageous. I'm going to the principal. All children tell stories. You don't know my daughter.'

The woman nodded. 'I encourage you to speak to the principal, but he can't intervene. We have to take Alison's allegations seriously.'

'Allegations? She's only eight years old. What could she possibly say?’

'She describes long-term sexual abuse in your home.'

Victoria suddenly realized who they meant. 'Graham? That’s ludicrous.’

Victoria saw only pity in their eyes.

There were no secrets at school.

They gained enemies.

The entire neighborhood wanted them out.

Abusive phone calls. Vandalized cars. Feces in their swimming pool. Worst of all, Victoria woke one morning to find her entire garden vandalized.

Graham's lawyer predicted jail time, but Graham chose to pay a higher price.

The coroner's report found death by suicide.

Victoria knew the truth.

Alison had killed Graham.

Not with her hands, but with her lies. Alison had been adopted, not true family. Had Victoria conceived naturally, this would never have happened. Adopting Alison proved the biggest mistake of their lives.

Graham's suicide halted the hate attacks. For Victoria, the only consolation was keeping her garden.

And now destroying that damn pear tree.

Alison's tree.

Victoria last remembered seeing Graham happy on Alison’s eighth birthday. He had planted Alison a pear tree.

A pear tree that now wouldn't die.

Unwatered, unfertilized, unloved, it thrived. It refused to die the natural death of the neglected.

But today you die
, thought Victoria.

She hacked its bark viciously, severing the cambium that connected roots to leaves. To be sure, she painted pure herbicide onto the freshly exposed wood.

I should have done this sooner.

Still panting, she
dropped the empty herbicide bottle and brush into the bin.

In her house, washing her hands, she frowned at her kitchen windows.

Why are these windows shut? I opened them this morning.