MELT: A Psychological Thriller (38 page)

Chrissie aimed carefully at his eye. She squeezed the trigger.

 

 

#

 

 

'The chains!' yelled Megan.

Chrissie paused.

'Shackle us together,' Megan cried.

'Why?' asked Chrissie.

'He can't hurt you then. Not chained to me. And if you kill him, he can't check any more traps.'

Chrissie looked down at Alex.

Do I still need him?

If she'd opened the acid trap herself, right now she'd be lying in a pool of her own face, gurgling at them to end her misery.

Megan pleaded, 'You can't afford to waste him, Chrissie.'

But I can't seem weak.

Chrissie glanced at the chain.
A chain won’t stop Alex being a threat. A chain is a weapon.

She shook her head.

I can't risk it. I have to do this.

Alex had blinked away enough dust to see Chrissie aiming.

'Wait!’ he begged. ‘I won't try anything. I promise. Shoot me in the leg. Just shoot me in the leg.'

The leg? He'd be crippled, but still useful. That could work. His foot will bleed less though.

Chrissie aimed at his foot.

To his credit, Alex offered his foot as an easy target.

'No!' shrieked Megan. 'Look at him, Chrissie. He's covered in burns. He's terrified of you. He's learnt his lesson. We both have.'

‘Shut up!’ shouted Chrissie.

Why am I being so weak? Why can't I even shoot him in the foot?

Chrissie studied Megan.

Like Alex, she’d lost her shirt to the acid. A yellow bra and cut-off shorts was all she had left. Acid burns dotted her skin. With half of her hair missing and a chunk of her ear gone, she looked as pitiful as Alex.

I’ve broken them.

Chrissie waved at Alex.

'If he fucks up, his corpse stays chained to you. Understand?'

Megan nodded. Gray powder fell from what hair she had left.

Chrissie waved at the slave chain. 'Chain his right hand to your left hand.'

Megan dragged the noisy chain over to Alex. The shackle snapped shut with a satisfying —
CLUNK!

A moment after, Megan snapped her own shackle shut.

Chrissie used the key to tighten Megan's shackle.

In another open sign of submission, Alex lowered his head and raised his wrist so Chrissie could screw his shackle on tightly.

Maybe this can work,
thought Chrissie.

With both of them in chains, Chrissie felt better.

'I’ll need water,' she said. 'Fill every container you can find with fresh ice chips. No ice off this filthy floor though.'

She threw the icepicks skittering across the floor.

‘If either of you come near me with an icepick, I’ll shoot you. When you’re not digging, leave them over there where I can see them.’

Alex and Megan began work.

Noisily.

Every move rattled their shackles.

They spent hours digging.

'It's not enough,' said Chrissie, inspecting their pitiful assortment of containers.

She scanned the artifacts still locked in the ice. 'Dig out that big thing near the middle. That will hold water.'

Megan and Alex peered into the ice.

'Looks like a treasure chest,' murmured Alex.

Megan winced as she readjusted her shackle. 'If we remove the artifacts out of order, how do we identify the traps?'

'We don't have to,' replied Chrissie. 'That's what Alex is for.'

Megan waved at all their artifacts. 'But what about our system? Following the rules has kept us alive.'

'I make the rules now, Megan. Dig that out. Don't stop until you reach it.'

Keeping them exhausted is the key,
Chrissie thought.
Too exhausted to try anything stupid.

Chrissie settled on the stone calendar. She'd entwined their discarded clothing into a cushion. She'd also wrapped ice in a handkerchief for her foot. The cold pack helped with the pain.

Obscene fascination made her study her toes again.

Zombie foot
, she thought.

Without skin, the bones, tendons and connective tissues lay exposed.

The inner anatomy of her entire big toe was revealed.

God, that's gross.

Especially when the parts moved.

She braced for the pain and gently lowered the cold pack.

Stop dwelling on your horrible foot and start thinking about escape.

Either Megan was right and escape lay in understanding the artifacts, or Chrissie was right and escape came to the last person standing.

While Megan remained alive, Chrissie had both bases covered. If Megan unscrambled the artifacts, great, but if she didn't, Chrissie had a backup plan.

She'd shoot them both.

 

 

#

 

 

Tink, tink, tink.

Chrissie recognized the sound instantly.

A bottle.

'Don't touch it,' she yelled. 'Don't even move!'

Chrissie limped toward the rolling bottle. Without hesitating she snatched it up and gripped the cork between her teeth.

Pop.

She drew out the message.

Another newspaper clipping? What’s with these people and newspapers?

Chrissie read the first two paragraphs. She didn't need to read further. She gripped her pistol tighter.

Thank God he's already in chains.

 'Is it mine?' asked Megan.

'No,' replied Chrissie. 'This one's for Alex.'

In one move, Chrissie turned and hurled the bottle at Alex's head.

He was ready for it.

He ducked away.

SMASH!

T
he bottle shattered against the ice.

Chrissie now realized why Alex had bothered her from day one. Alex was the type of human scum who didn't belong in a civilized world. He was effluent. Dirt under her shoe. She'd be doing the entire world a favor by shooting him right now.

Chrissie stared at him. At his youth. At his innocent-looking face.

No wonder he got away with it.

She said to Alex, 'We were scared of Carl, but Carl was a choirboy compared to you. At least he only tortured one woman.'

Megan looked at Alex. 'What?'

Chrissie offered Megan the note. 'Here. Read it.'

 Megan stared at the clipping a second and then shook her head.

'You need to read this,' insisted Chrissie, shaking the paper. 'Look at what he’s done. He’s a monster.'

Megan stepped back. 'I'm more scared of you than of him.'

Chrissie scrunched up the clipping and threw it at Megan. 'Well, I can't stomach reading any more of it.'

Alex knelt to flatten out the clipping. He passed it up to Megan. 'She's right, Megan. You need to read this.'

Megan reluctantly took the paper. 'Are you sure?'

'I'm sure.'

'Just read it!' demanded Chrissie. 'And remember that being chained to him was your idea, not mine.'

Chrissie watched Megan's reaction with smug satisfaction. By the end, Megan held the clipping as though it were used toilet paper.

'Well?' asked Chrissie.

Megan folded the paper and wordlessly handed it back to Alex.

Without further comment Megan returned to digging.

Chrissie imagined the wheels turning in Megan's head. This would change things. This would work in Chrissie's favor. It shouldn't take long before Megan was begging to change teams.

 

 

#

 

 

Chrissie couldn't contain herself any longer. Megan's silence was infuriating.

Chrissie asked, 'What were their names, Alex?'

'Huh?'

'The girls you raped? What were their names?’

Alex sighed and shook his head. 'Why are you doing this? Why try to make things worse?'

Finally
, thought Chrissie.
A reaction.

Chrissie taunted Alex some more. 'Do you remember their names? Their faces? Did any of them look like Megan?'

Alex glanced at Megan.

Megan just kept working.

Chrissie softened her tone. 'Do you feel safe, Megan? Do you feel safe chained to a rapist? I know I wouldn't.’

'Alex never raped those poor girls,' replied Megan.

Chrissie scoffed. 'Even you can't be that gullible, Megan.'

Megan turned to Alex. 'Just tell her, Alex. I'm sick of this.'

'I don't care what she thinks,' said Alex.

Megan pulled out the clipping. 'Chrissie, you really are clueless sometimes.'

'How so?'

'That wasn't even Alex's bottle you found. You found Ericsson's bottle.'

Megan flicked the note back to Chrissie.

Chrissie snatched the paper before it hit the floor. She unfolded the clipping and read to the bottom. Ericsson's name was practically hidden in the last paragraph.

Megan said. 'Next time try reading all the way to the end.'

Only slightly irritated, Chrissie tossed the paper aside. 'The mystery continues then.'