MELT: A Psychological Thriller (44 page)

 

 

MEGAN

 

Chapter Thirty-two

 

His body shielded her.

The explosion threw him sideways, knocking her backward and leaving Alex face down.

The impact, the heat, the ringing in her ears — Megan could barely orientate herself.

'Alex! Alex!'

Her own voice sounded distant.

She stood slowly and looked at the chain.

We’re not chained together anymore. The shackle came off his wrist. Oh, my God. What happened to him?

Megan didn't see until she rolled him over.

Oh, Jesus Christ. Jesus...Jesus Christ.

Then she saw the protruding bones and raw flesh.

Half of his hand was missing.

The thumb, index finger and ring finger of his left hand had been blown completely off. Rubik’s cube shrapnel had torn into his side.

Megan scanned the chamber desperately.

A tourniquet. I need a tourniquet!

She spotted Alex’s track pants. She dashed to them and wrenched out the drawstring.

When she got back, Alex was blinking at the ceiling.

‘What happened?’ he croaked.

‘Hush,’ Megan said. ‘Just lie still.’

Before Megan could stop him, Alex lifted his arm and looked at his mangled hand. He stared at his hand as though he’d picked up something awful. Something he couldn’t throw away.

‘Oh, fff…fff…fuck.’

With his other hand, he plucked some plastic from his side and studied it.

‘The cube exploded,’ he said, as though he’d just figured out another complicated puzzle. ‘The stupid fucking Rubik’s cube exploded.’

Megan lashed the drawstring around Alex’s arm below the wrist. She wound it round and round, tighter and tighter, ending with a fierce knot.

‘The bandage,’ Alex said, his voice shaky with shock. ‘In my…hoodie.’

Megan scanned the chamber for the hoodie.

There.

She found the hoodie and tore open the bandage wrapper with her teeth.

‘Quickly,’ Alex urged. ‘It’s starting to hurt.’

Megan worked fast. Alex arched his back and kicked one leg, but he didn’t cry out as Megan wrapped the bandage down tightly on his raw flesh.

So little of Alex’s hand remained that Megan covered the entire wound twice, tying off the bandage at his wrist.

Blood instantly showed through the bandage, but the tourniquet was working.

‘I’m sorry,’ winced Alex. ‘I’m such an idiot.’

‘No,’ said Megan, suddenly feeling light-headed. She braced both hands on the floor as the chamber started spinning.

What’s happening?

Her vision blurred.

Megan managed to reach one hand out toward Alex before she passed out.

 

 

#

 

 

Tsk…..…tsk…….tsk…

Tsk…..…tsk….…tsk…

Megan came awake.

The air was scorching.

She pushed herself up.

Alex was lying on his side, lifting his knife up and then striking down onto the ice with what little strength the heat hadn’t sapped away. His side was covered in blood from his armpit to his hip.

‘Alex!’

He turned his head. The heat was so intense he was squinting.

He looked beyond exhausted. Inhumanly exhausted.

‘You passed out,’ he wheezed. ‘I couldn’t wake you.’

She pointed at his side. ‘What did you do?’

He nodded to a little pile of Rubik’s cube shrapnel. He’d pulled all the plastic shrapnel from his side.

None had penetrated deeply. It just looked terrible. The agony from his hand had to feel much worse.

‘How long was I out?’

He rolled onto his back. His body had been blocking her view of the ice.

‘That long.’

The ice was barely an inch thick now — just a shallow frozen puddle. The hatch handle protruded up through the ice.

Alex dropped the knife.

‘Your turn. We’ve only got minutes.’

Megan crawled over to the ice, took the knife and began pounding. Alex had been working at the edge, but Megan used both hands and all her strength to strike the ice in the middle.

Crack!

The shallow ice fractured between her legs.

My bodyweight cracked the ice, not the knife.

Standing, she stomped down on the ice. It shattered under her shoes like glass.

In seconds she kicked all the broken ice away from the hatch.

It’s clear.

Feeling dizzy, she dropped to her knees.

I can’t pass out again. We’re both dead if I can’t do this.

She grasped the hatch handle and pulled.

Nothing happened.

‘Oh, God, no,’ she cried.

It didn't budge.

She wiped stinging sweat from her eyes and looked closer.

A keypad?

A keypad lay recessed under the handle.

A code?

I need a code?

I don't have a code.

The heat was overwhelming now. Her head was spinning. Every breath burned her lips, her throat, her lungs. She felt the heat pressing into her ears and cooking her eyes. Her skin wanted to shrink and split open like rotten fruit. She felt her entire body broiling in her own sweat. The chamber had truly become an oven. She needed to open this hatch right now, or die.

The code must be hidden.

She couldn't search every artifact for a hidden code. They only had seconds left.

Kneeling on the hatch, Megan yelled, 'What should I do, Alex! It needs a code! Help me!'

She slumped forward, slapping down her hands on the hatch in frustration.

I’m so close.

She lowered her head and tried to remember anything code-like they'd found.

She was swaying, ready to drop.

Think. Numbers. Where have you seen numbers? Keep your eyes open!

‘Megan.’

She looked up.

Alex was pointing at her chest.

‘Your tag.’

She snatched the steel tag swinging on its chain.
Just like the first time she’d seen it, only one line was visible.

It read:

EXIT: 3202

The code! I’m wearing it. Oh, please, God, let this work.

Megan entered the code. When she pressed the last button, the keypad lit up bright green.

CLUNK

She hauled on the handle.

Nothing.

She stood and pulled using all the strength in her legs and back.

The hatch began to move…very, very slowly.

Still lying on the floor, Alex reached out and pushed the hatch from underneath with one hand.

Together, they swung the hatch up and open.

It halted upright.

Megan's senses overloaded.

Bright light and cold air engulfed her. She dropped to her knees, gripping the hatch, feeling the fresh air rush around her.

A full minute passed as the cold air slowly restored her senses.

She opened her eyes.

Sunlight?

She squinted down through the hatchway.

They were waiting for her.

Megan counted more than twenty people peering up through the hatch.

They all wore white protective suits and black gas masks. Half of them carried cleaning equipment.

A long metal ladder led down to them.

Where are we?

Megan peered sideways through the hatchway. She saw blue-green waves beyond a ship’s railing. She smelled the ocean. She saw life preservers.

Waves? We're at sea? No wonder they couldn't find us.

Movement near the ladder caught her attention.

It's her. The psycho cleaner from the toilet!

Even from twenty-five feet up, Megan recognized the woman who removed her mask.

'You abducted me!' Megan yelled down.

The woman nodded.

'Why is everyone wearing masks?' Megan yelled again.

The woman waved up at the chamber. 'For their own safety, Megan. We work with dangerous materials to prepare everything. You of all people should know that. Can you climb down? We'll help if you're injured.'

'No,' Megan yelled back. 'I'm just catching my breath.'

The ladder wasn’t directly attached to the chamber. It ended almost a foot short of the hatchway.

Megan asked Alex, ‘Can you climb down?’

He nodded. ‘Just let me cool down for a minute.’

Megan turned and lowered herself awkwardly onto the ladder, being careful with the chain.

I'm out. I'm really out.

She hugged the ladder, peering over her shoulder.

This is a freight ship. We were in a tower on a huge freight ship. But why didn’t we feel the tower swaying? Why couldn’t we feel the waves?

Through the ladder rungs she saw what resembled a giant pendulum anchored to the base of the chamber.

I see what they’ve done.

The tower elevated the chamber from the deck so the counterweight could stabilize the chamber.

The chamber moves on the tower, keeping the floor level. That’s why the ladder doesn’t touch it.