MELT: A Psychological Thriller (9 page)

'Your mother might clean up your piss at home,’ she snarled, ‘but she’s not here now. You do it!’

Chrissie poked Glen again for emphasis.

Or rather, she tried to. Her finger never reached his chest.

Glen snatched her wrist and yanked it brutally aside.

‘Listen here, you little bitch. You poke me again and I’ll break your fucking finger off.’

Chrissie looked stunned, as though Glen’s reaction was totally unprovoked.

What did she expect?
wondered Megan.

‘Let
...
me
...
go,’ hissed Chrissie, struggling to break his grip.

Glen pushed her away as Carl intervened.

'Whoa!' said Carl, stepping between them. 'That’s unnecessary.’

Chrissie rubbed her wrist.

Megan backed away, shocked at how quickly things had escalated.

'Hey,’ Glen said to Megan. ‘She was poking my chest. I'm not like that.’

Megan nodded.
What the hell just happened? One moment we’re taking turns with the umbrella, the next Chrissie and Glen are fighting.

SNAP!

Everyone turned at the sound of Alex popping open Megan's umbrella. Aiming the chrome tip at Chrissie, he twisted the handle so the orange and green pattern swirled hypnotically.

‘I've got an idea,’ he announced. ‘Let me use the drain next.'

Alex winked at Chrissie before walking around the ice with the umbrella twirling over his shoulder.

Alex puzzled Megan.

Megan tried not to listen to Alex using the drain. It proved easy. Whatever his technique, he worked silently.

Alex returned, still spinning the umbrella.
'I didn't spill a drop. Not a splash out of place.'

‘Make sure it stays that way,' snapped Chrissie.

Alex waved Carl and Glen over. He spoke quietly, but Megan overheard.

‘We have to sit on the cold floor and line him up,’ advised Alex. ‘Nothing else will work.’

'That's what I thought,' confirmed Carl.

Glen nodded. ‘She made it sound like I wanted to piss against the wall like a dog.’

'Forget her,' said Alex, passing Glen the umbrella. ‘Just aim carefully unless you want a visit from the pee-police.’

Glen rolled his eyes and headed for the drain.

Megan moved to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Alex. Staring thoughtfully into the ice, he looked like anything but a schoolboy.

'How old are you, Alex?'

‘Seventeen.'

Megan waited, but he didn't ask her age.

'That was close,' Megan said quietly.

Alex wet his hands on the ice. He rubbed his wet hands on his face.

Megan practically saw the schoolboy mask drop back into place again.

'Too bad,' he joked. 'We had front row seats to the only cage match in town.'

Nonsense
, thought Megan.

'I think my money would have been on Chrissie,' continued Alex. 'Her fingernails look like talons.'

Megan knew what Alex meant. Chrissie wasn't taking any prisoners, and with every passing minute Megan realized that nobody in this place was who they seemed to be.

Chapter Six

 

The Band-Aid looked ancient.

Megan didn't care.

Her ear felt much worse than Glen had described. She could poke her little finger easily through the area of missing cartilage.

She carefully pressed down the sticky tabs.

Shit, that stings! Ouch! Ouch! Ouch!

'Where'd you find that?' asked Victoria.

'In my wallet,' said Megan.

'Do you have any more?'

‘No. Just this one.’

Victoria eyed Megan's bag.

'Check if you don’t believe me,' said Megan.

'Don't be silly,' said Victoria, still eyeing the bag.

Megan stuffed the wrapper in her jean’s pocket as Carl came around the ice. The others followed.

She’d left them all arguing about the bomb.

Just leave me out of it
, Megan thought.

‘Megan,’ Carl said. 'Did the phone get a signal up on the ice? You didn’t tell us.’

‘What?’

Glen blew into his hands. 'Alex’s phone. The one in the vent. Did it get a signal?’

Megan slapped her hand over her mouth.
A signal? I don’t know. I fell before I could check!

She peered desperately around the group. 'I can't remember. I mean...I don't think I checked.'

Megan shivered and stood up.

Everyone bombarded her with questions.

Chrissie’s voice cut through their questions like a razor through steam.

'Everyone shut up!’ she ordered.

Chrissie met Megan’s eyes. ‘Think carefully, Megan. Our lives depend on this. Did you check? Yes or no.’

'No,' admitted Megan, rushing to add, ‘but I had no chance to check. I barely reached the vent. I’m sorry.’

Chrissie's mouth dropped open in amazement.

Carl stepped between Chrissie and Megan. He placed a hand on Megan's shoulder and said, 'Getting the phone to the vent was our goal. She did that.’

Alex and Glen nodded energetically.

Chrissie looked like she wanted to launch herself at Megan’s throat. She barely held herself in check.

When she spoke, she pronounced each word as though English wasn't Megan's first language.

'What about
before
the vent?' Chrissie asked tersely. 'Up on the ice? Did you check then?’

Megan matched Chrissie’s condescending tone. ‘It was slippery. I was trying not to die.’

Chrissie's resolve broke.

Her face twisted with blistering hostility.

'The phone was in your hand!’ Chrissie yelled. ‘You idiot! You stupid fucking idiot!'

Megan stepped around Carl, coming face-to-face with Chrissie.

How dare this bitch criticize me
, Megan thought angrily.
She did nothing to help.

Chrissie was slightly heavier than Megan, maybe an inch taller. Megan refused to yell like Chrissie, like a spoiled child having a temper tantrum.

'You didn't even help with the phone, Chrissie. You did nothing. All you do is argue and poke people. Stay away from me.'

Megan snatched up her bag and walked away, not interested in Chrissie’s reply. No one had ever verbally attacked Megan before. Certainly no one like Chrissie.

I’m glad I didn’t back down. Not to that spiteful bitch.

Megan stopped at the bomb.

Why did I take my bag? Where did I think I was going?

She set her bag down. Everything in this place had just become even more uncomfortable. At least the argument had warmed her a bit.

 

 

#

 

 

Megan crouched and hugged her knees.

How long has it been since I woke up?

She checked her phone.

Eight hours!
It felt more like eight days.

She studied her iPhone.

It's just a piece of metal and plastic. I was naive to think it kept me safe.

Before today, help was only ever a phone call away. Now her phone only reminded her how long she’d been trapped.

It’s been thirty-two hours since they abducted me. What’s happening outside? What’s Dad doing?

He would have called her job, then her friends, and then the police.

The police would take her Dad seriously. Everyone did. Megan remembered the doctors listening carefully to her father when her mom first got sick.

Megan was last seen at work.

The shopping center's surveillance cameras
would show Megan entering the bathroom, but never leaving. Instead, a woman
pretending
to be a cleaner had pushed out a cart with a very large bin. It wouldn't take Sherlock Holmes to realize Megan was inside that bin.

Technology hadn't failed her after all. Her abduction had been recorded.

Megan studied her phone again.

You can't make calls, but you can do other things.

She checked the battery. Ninety percent charged.

First I’ll use that app to increase battery life.

The app dimmed the screen instantly.

What else?

She scanned her icons, opening folders to check old apps she hadn’t bothered deleting. One folder was titled ‘Dad’s Apps’. Sometimes her dad downloaded boring teaching apps.

Megan opened her father’s folder.

Free Algebra Magic?

Megan began to close the folder, but paused. Alex had used simple algebra to work out the height of the ice. What else could she learn?

She launched the application, instantly overwhelmed by the list of problems the app could solve. She searched for the word ‘Dome’.

One result came up:

 

Calculator for Volume of a Solid Dome

 

Sounds good.

Even better, it just wanted her to enter the dome’s diameter. Alex already calculated the dome was twelve meters across.

Megan typed in twelve meters and opted for her answer to appear in gallons.

 

Volume of Dome (gal) = 119, 508.30975

 

Megan looked up at the dome.
There’s over one hundred thousand gallons of water in that thing. That’s incredible.

Megan moved the algebra app to her home screen with her everyday apps. She scanned her home screen for options.

Camera. A picture was worth a thousand words. She could even record short videos. She flicked to the next screen.

Voice Memos. The voice recorder barely used any power and consumed much less memory than a video.

If nothing else, she could record their ordeal.

Of course! Of course I need to record what's happening to us! Why didn't I think of this sooner?

Megan jumped up. She knew exactly where to start.

Before she could take a single step, Chrissie rounded the ice and blocked her path.

 

 

#

 

 

‘What do you want?’ asked Megan. ‘I told you to leave me alone.’

Now Megan had something constructive to do, she couldn’t be bothered with Chrissie’s nonsense.

Chrissie adjusted her neck sock against the cold.

'I want to apologize,' she said.

‘Sure,’ said Megan, trying to walk around her.

‘Wait,’ said Chrissie.
'Just listen to me. I have a daughter. She’s only four. I was supposed to pick her up from daycare yesterday. It's driving me crazy. That’s why I’m so angry. It’s not you.’

Chrissie didn’t seem the motherly type, let alone a mother missing a four year old.

How would I act if I was separated from my child? Probably angrier than Chrissie. She’s got nowhere to vent but at us.

'Will she be all right?' Megan asked.

'No!’ blurted Chrissie. ‘I won full-time custody of Maddie because my ex-husband abused her. He's appealed the decision. He’s fighting for joint custody, and my lawyer says he’s got a good chance of winning. He’s probably got her right now!’

Jesus
, thought Megan.
That’s awful.

'How did he abuse her?' Megan asked, hoping it wasn't sexual.

'Drugs,’ answered Chrissie. ‘He crushed valium tablets into our daughter’s juice so he could party with his drug-head friends.'

This woman has serious family issues,
thought Megan.

'I’m sorry I’m so volatile,’ said Chrissie. ‘I need to get out of here to protect my daughter. That’s why the phone signal was so important to me. Do you understand?'

Megan did. She nodded. 'You were right. I should have checked the signal. I'll do better now.'

'How?'

'I'll record what's happening,' replied Megan. 'With my phone.'

Megan never expected what came next.

She didn’t know Chrissie could move so fast.

Chrissie leapt at Megan, grabbing for her phone.

 

 

#

 

 

Megan jerked away, startled, cupping her phone to her chest. 'Hey! What are you doing?'

Chrissie barely restrained herself.

‘Oh, God — I’m sorry!
Your phone's exactly like mine. I thought you'd found it. Mine was in the car when they took me.'

Megan gripped her phone tightly. 'How did they abduct you, Chrissie?'

'My iPhone's the exact same model,' Chrissie pointed out. 'Have you increased the battery life?'