MELT: A Psychological Thriller (30 page)

She flicked her hands over the sink, reached for a towel and then shrieked in fright.

Two men stood in her kitchen. Shoulder to shoulder, they blocked her path.

'What do you want?' she asked.

They both wore large black masks.

Gas masks.

'You're too late,' she said. 'He's already dead. He died years ago.'

One man tossed a hissing canister at her feet. It spun on the kitchen floor, spraying gas everywhere.

They closed the windows so the gas won't escape,
Victoria realized.
This is Alison's final victory. Vigilante injustice.

She didn't move as gas filled the kitchen. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction. She wouldn't scramble for the window like a trapped insect. Perhaps they were doing her a favor. Doing something she wasn't brave enough to do herself.

She closed her eyes and said the Lord's Prayer. She'd be seeing Graham soon.

 

 

#

 

 

'Oh no!'

Megan covered her mouth.

Victoria lowered the water bottle.
What now?

'What is it?' asked Alex.

Megan stared at her phone.

Victoria sighed and sipped more water.
Why do young people make everything so dramatic?

Alex took Megan's phone and read aloud from the screen:

 

PICK UP DAD’S BIRTHDAY PRESENT TODAY.

 

Victoria almost laughed. S
tupid girl. We've been trapped for days, two of us are dead, and she's upset about a present?

Victoria didn't have words to describe that kind of selfishness.

'I don't understand,' said Alex.

'It's a reminder,' babbled Megan. 'I set it weeks ago.’

'So?'

'So it beeps to get my attention.'

Megan sounded teary now. Her tone had everyone's attention.

'What kind of beep?' asked Chrissie suspiciously.

Alex pressed a button.

TWEET TWEET
.

'That's what I heard,' said Victoria. 'When our SOS message went out.'

Alex just handed Megan her phone and walked away.

Chrissie stared at Megan. Then at her phone. Then back at Megan.

Victoria hadn't seen Chrissie speechless before.

It didn't last long.

'You stupid, retarded idiot!' shouted Chrissie.

Victoria didn't own a mobile phone. Plainly everyone knew something she didn’t.

'What's happening?' she demanded. 'Somebody speak plain English.'

Chrissie snatched Megan's phone and spun toward Victoria. 'It was Megan's phone we heard! Not Alex's. Our SOS message never went out. It was Megan's stupid phone all along.'

Victoria felt Chrissie's words like physical blow. 'You mean there's no rescue coming?'

'No one's coming,' shouted Chrissie. 'No one was ever coming!'

'I'm sorry,' said Megan.

Chrissie just shouted louder, almost screeching.

'That won't stop us being cooked alive, Megan! Being sorry won't stop our skin peeling off. We're trapped in a giant oven!'

Chrissie threw the phone at Megan.

Megan slapped it to her chest, lucky not to drop it.

'That's enough,' said Carl. 'It wasn't her fault.'

'It was,' admitted Megan. 'I'm used to it vibrating. In low power mode it doesn't vibrate. I was so excited I didn't even check.'

'It was right there in your pocket,' hissed Chrissie. 'You're such a fucking brain dead idiot!'

'Leave her alone,' said Alex.

'I'm sorry,' Megan said.

She shrugged off Carl's hand, picked up the umbrella and disappeared around the ice.

'That's it then,' said Victoria. 'No one's coming.'

'We can't be sure of that,' said Carl. 'Alex's phone is still broadcasting. It's not time to give up yet.'

'It's never time to give up hope,' said Alex. 'People are still looking for us.'

Chapter Twenty-one

 

'Stop sniveling,' Victoria demanded. 'Take the umbrella if you're going to cry, Megan.'

Victoria hated the sound of sniffing children. Alison was always the same. Sniff, sniff, sniff.

Megan lifted her face. Her nose looked red.

'I'm not crying,' she said. 'It's the temperature change.'

'Then blow your nose. You sound disgusting.'

Alex said, 'Victoria, stop being a nasty old witch for a while.'

A few days ago that comment would have enraged Victoria. Not anymore.

Why bother?

'How old do you think I am, Alex?'

Alex looked up from the Rubik’s cube. 'Old enough to be cranky all the time. So whatever age that kicks in.'

Victoria replied as though to a five-year-old. 'Alex, I'm sorry if I sound cranky, but Megan's constant sniffing sounds like a filthy pig. I taught snotty-nosed children for nineteen years and I shouldn't have to hear it now.'

'I'm glad you weren't my teacher,' said Megan.

'I beg your pardon.'

‘You heard me.’ Megan pulled a small handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbed her nose. 'You sound like an awful teacher. I bet you worked back when teachers were allowed to abuse children by hitting them.’

Victoria stared at Megan, too shocked to speak.

They've found my bottle. How else could she know?

'Where is it?' Victoria hissed, rising to stand over Megan.

'Where's what?'

'My bottle!' spat Victoria. 'My bottle, you smart-mouthed little bitch. Where is it?'

Victoria felt like kicking Megan. Kicking her in the face. Kicking her lying mouth.

'I don't have your bottle.'

'Liar!’

Victoria snatched Megan's bag. Megan lunged for it, but Victoria shook it violently upside-down. ‘How dare you!'

Everything spilled out.

Victoria knelt and grabbed the bottle that tumbled out.

I found it. I knew she was lying.

Victoria shook the bottle.

Empty
.

'Where is it!' she yelled.

'Where's what?' asked Chrissie. 'What's wrong, Victoria?'

Something broke under Victoria's knee.

Sharp pain flared.

'Hey!' yelled Megan. 'You’re breaking my stuff!’

'Then give it to me!' Victoria yelled, standing to hurl the empty bag back at Megan.

Megan ducked the bag and pretended she was innocent.

Victoria gripped the bottle like a club. 'Empty your pockets, Megan. Empty your pockets or I'll smash this bottle in your face.'

Victoria didn't know where the words were coming from, but she didn't stop.

Megan scrambled to her feet.

'What's going on?' demanded Alex.

'She thinks we found her secret,' answered Megan.

'Why?'

Megan bent to pick up an icepick.

'Whoa — that's enough,' said Carl, appearing from around the ice.

Nice try, little bitch
, thought Victoria, seeing right through Megan's fakery. Victoria had dealt with devious girls before. Girls far more devious than Megan.

Victoria pointed at Carl. 'He
tortured
that girl, but you all act like it never happened. What I did was an accident. Where is my chance to explain? You gave Carl a chance. Where’s my chance?'

'It's right now,' said Chrissie. 'We're ready to listen. We owe you that, Victoria.'

'That's my right,' insisted Victoria.

Chrissie nodded. 'Tell us then.'

Victoria calmed herself, but kept the bottle.

She held up her left hand.

'Look. I can’t bear to wear that ring now. Graham worked two jobs to afford a solitaire diamond engagement ring. I even wore it turned around in the schoolyard to protect the diamond.'

'Turned around?' asked Chrissie.

Victoria twisted her wedding ring to demonstrate. 'I turned my ring around so I could close my hand around the diamond. To keep it safe.

'Keep going,' prompted Chrissie.

Victoria said, 'I was the only teacher on lunch duty that day. I heard the Morgan twins swearing. When I tried to drag them to the principal’s office, they attacked me.'

'Little kids?' asked Megan.

'Stop interrupting me!' Victoria spat. 'They were ten years old!'

Megan nodded, backing away.

'When I grabbed Tommy Morgan, he and his brother assaulted me like little savages. Tommy was kicking my shins and James was thumping my back.'

'And?' prompted Carl.

'So I slapped Tommy.'

'That's it?' asked Alex. 'You slapped a kid?'

Victoria shook her head. She raised her hand. 'I had my ring turned around. I always turned my ring around in the schoolyard. To protect the diamond.'

SLAAAP!

Victoria remembered the awful sound. The tearing feeling. The blood that squirted over her dress.

She said, 'I didn't know a diamond could
do
that to a child's face.'

Everyone stared at Victoria.

'It was awful. His face just...just...' Victoria couldn't describe how Tommy Morgan's face had peeled open.

'What happened?' asked Megan.

'I was suspended,' answered Victoria.

'I meant what happened to the boy?'

'Oh...well...obviously...he was very hurt,' replied Victoria. 'He needed facial surgery. Several times, I think.'

'What happened to you?' asked Chrissie.

Victoria recalled decade-long friendships evaporating. How people would turn their shopping carts around to avoid her.

I thought we'd get through it. I was naive.

'It wasn't me they went after,' answered Victoria. 'It was Graham. They weren't satisfied with ruining my career, so they started spreading rumors about my husband.'

'What kind of rumors?' asked Megan.

'Disgusting things. Revolting things about our daughter, Alison.'

Megan said, 'You told me you didn’t have children.'

'I don't,' replied Victoria. 'Alison was adopted. But that doesn't mean Graham would...would....'

'Molest her?' finished Chrissie.

Victoria nodded. ‘That’s what they said, but Graham kept me out of it. Even though I caused the hateful lies by slapping Tommy Morgan, Graham dealt with everything. The police, the courts, the lawyers — Graham handled all that himself. He took the entire burden upon himself.'

'Did he serve time?' asked Carl. 'Men like that don’t do well in prison.'

'No,' replied Victoria evenly. 'He hung himself in our garage.'

'What happened to Alison?' asked Megan.

‘She was taken away.'

For drawn out seconds no one spoke. Only the ice, dripping and gurgling.

Victoria waited for someone to return her note. No one stepped forward.

Even after hearing the truth, they still haven't any decency.

'I've suffered enough,' said Victoria, holding up the bottle. 'I don't deserve to be in here. I don't deserve this.'

'I'm sorry, Victoria,' Carl said. 'But that can’t be your bottle.'

'Why not?' asked Victoria, truly spent.

Carl held up another bottle, still glistening with icy residue. 'Because this one is.'

 

 

#

 

 

Carl passed Chrissie a small yellow envelope.

Victoria didn’t try to intervene.
They know the truth already.

Chrissie opened the envelope.

She screwed up her face.

It must be a photograph,
thought Victoria.
A picture of Tommy Morgan's stitched up face.

Victoria didn't need to see the pictures again. She remembered his face unzipping from earlobe to nostril. Stitched up, he looked like a Halloween mask come to life.

'It was an accident,' repeated Victoria. 'That boy was attacking me. I was defending myself.'

'This isn't about Tommy,' said Chrissie.

'It's not mine?' asked Victoria.

'It's yours all right,' said Carl. 'But it's not about Tommy Morgan.'

'What does it say?' asked Megan.

Carl leveled his gaze steadily on Victoria. 'It says Victoria's husband was a kiddy-fiddler.'

Victoria almost threw the bottle at Carl. Instead, she demanded, 'Who says that?'

'Your daughter,' replied Carl. 'It's a letter from Alison. It's addressed to you.'

Chrissie's face screwed up. She waved the letter at Victoria. 'She says you
knew
, Victoria. You
knew
your husband molested her.'

'She's wasn't our real daughter!' screeched Victoria. 'That's why she hated us. That's why she did this. That's why she keeps writing those stupid letters.'

Chrissie shook the letter again. 'She's asking why you didn't stop him. She wants to understand.'

'What did you tell her?' asked Megan. 'Did you even reply to her letters?'

'She
killed
my husband,' yelled Victoria.

'She's an adult now,' said Megan. 'Why would she lie?'

Victoria shook her head.
I don't need to explain myself to these people. These strangers. They only see the evil in people.

She snatched the letter off Chrissie. 'It's none of your business.'

Megan pointed at the letter. 'Everything in here's our business, Victoria. These messages weren't frozen in the ice by accident.'

Victoria shuddered.
That ice. I hate that damn ice. I hate the ice and everything inside this damn room.

Megan added, 'I doubt a grown woman would keep lying for all these years.'