MELT: A Psychological Thriller (7 page)

She didn't even have time to scream. She didn’t have time to think or panic.

In seconds she was sliding toward the top.

I didn’t let go,
she realized.
I've done it. I'm almost there!

'Slow down,' she yelled. 'Stop!'

She wasn’t slowing.

The vent raced toward her. She angled her legs to steer herself and lunged upward
...

...
grabbing the vent and arresting her wild slide.

Her entire body twisted with momentum on the slippery ice, but she clung on desperately to the vent.

‘STOP! STOP! STOP!’ she shrieked. ‘I’ve got it!’

Everything that was moving suddenly stopped. Everything except her heart.

'Are you all right?' Carl called.

'NO!' she yelled back. 'You idiots. You almost killed me. I said to pull slowly! SLOWLY!'

'We couldn’t,’ Alex called back. ‘The rope slipped sideways. We had to run around the ice!'

Megan realized she’d corkscrewed up the ice.

Glen wasn't underneath me at all. And now I can’t see any of them. If they can’t see me, then they can’t catch me if I fall.

Megan checked her grip on the vent.

I cannot fall. I cannot let that happen.

'Does the phone fit?' Chrissie called up.

The phone was in her bra. Megan’s left hand gripped the rope. Her right hand gripped the vent.

She had to let go of something. The rope or the vent? The rope felt more important. She needed the rope to get down. She held her breath and loosened her fingers cautiously from the vent, ready to snatch it again if she started sliding.

She didn't slide.

'Hurry up!' called Carl. 'The rope is slipping!'

Megan plucked the phone from her bra.

She paused, completely confused, staring at her empty hand.
What the...where's the phone?

Her fingers were empty. Then she saw it. Sliding away.

Her numb fingers had dropped the phone!

Oh, NO! Please NO!

She lunged at it, full-length, slapping her hand down...
SMACK!

 
Have I got it?

She couldn't tell. Her fingers were too numb. She lifted her head.

She'd
just
stopped it.

Three fingertips pinned the phone to the ice. Even now, precariously pinned like a wet bar of soap, the phone could pop out from under her fingertips at any moment.

Very slowly she drew her hand back in, praying the phone didn't pop out and rocket away down the ice.

Come back to me, come back, come back....

It worked.

She drew the phone back. She carefully picked it up, watching her hand this time, not trusting her numb fingers.

God, this ice is burning me everywhere. It hurts so much. I have to get this done and get down. I can’t take this cold anymore.

She lifted the phone and pushed it through the...

...it didn't fit.

She twisted the phone, trying different angles, but it still didn't fit through the vent.

Alex said it would fit. What am I doing wrong?

She wasn't doing anything wrong. The gaps in the vent were too narrow. It looked possible from the floor, but up close, in reality, it couldn't fit.

'Shit! Shit! Shit!' Megan hissed under her breath.

 ‘What’s wrong?’ Carl called up.

'It won't fit!' she yelled. 'The gaps are too small! What should I do?’

'Just come down,' called up Victoria.

I'm such an idiot,
thought Megan.
Victoria and Chrissie were right.
I’ll probably break my legs getting down and I haven’t helped anyone.

'Wait!' Chrissie's called up. 'Don't come down yet. Try hooking it up there with something!'

Megan knew what Chrissie meant, but she didn't even have a hair clip to work with. Her bra didn't even have an underwire.

'I don't have anything!'

'The rope's slipping!' Carl warned again.

This time Megan felt the rope tugging her hand.

Frantic, she yelled, 'What should I do?'

'Do whatever you think!' Carl hollered up. 'But do it RIGHT NOW!'

She couldn't waste this chance. Not after coming this far. She knew what she had to do.

It might send her careening down the ice, but she had to try. She counted down in her head.

Three...

Two...

One...

Go...
Megan pushed off the ice with her left hand and flipped over onto her back —
THWACK!

The ice burnt her bare shoulder blades instantly.

She ignored it.

Now she could see straight up the ventilation shaft.

She hauled in some rope to grip with her teeth.

With both hands free, she pressed the phone against the vent.

I'm wedging this phone into this vent no matter what. Even if it kills me.

She took a deep breath, braced her back on the ice, and pushed.

She pushed...and twisted...and screwed the phone with both hands until she felt her fingers might snap off.

Then she pushed harder.

She heard the plastic phone grinding against steel but she didn't stop pushing. Her arms shook from the sustained effort. With every bit of strength in her body she pushed upward until —
CRACK!

T
he phone jolted into place.

She let go. She’d done it. The phone stayed wedged into the vent.

YES
!

But she was moving.

The rope in her mouth was dragging her head sideways across the slippery ice. She wasn't holding anything now!

She snatched for the vent...too late.

I missed it! Oh, God, I’m really falling.

'She's coming down!' yelled Glen.

She spat the rope into her hands and shrieked, 'I'm falling!'

Bedlam erupted below.

Chapter Five

 

Megan slid away from the vent, toward the steel floor and agony below.

'Where is she?' Carl yelled.

'The other side!' Glen called back.

'I'm here!' Megan cried out.

All she could do now was yell. The steel floor raced hungrily toward her legs.

Here it comes
.

But the floor wasn't the only thing racing toward her. It took her a moment to recognize him without his pajamas, but Glen sprinted like a pale lightning bolt. She only glimpsed him at the last second, but he was tracking her descent as he ran. She saw in his eyes that he would catch her, like he promised.

Calling their collision a
catch
was like calling a four car pileup a nudge.

She felt like a weapon hitting a target.

They
slammed
together. Glen buckled. Their heads collided. Her face slammed into his chest. Their legs tangled as combined momentum sent them careening from the ice. Hitting the floor, Megan felt Glen squash under her like a bony trampoline.

They slid into the wall.

Megan opened her eyes.

Everything came back into focus.

He caught me. I'm all right.

She looked up at Glen's face.

His eyes were screwed shut in pain.

'Glen?'

'Get off me,' he moaned.

She didn't need to. The others crowded in to lift them apart.

Victoria and Alex helped Megan sit up against the wall.

'Where are you hurt most?' asked Victoria.

Megan's limbs competed for attention, but the cold hurt her the most.

'M...my...c...c...clothes,' she stuttered.

 Carl began rapidly unknotting the rope and throwing clothes toward owners.

'You're blue,' warned Victoria. 'It's hypothermia. Here, put these back on.'

Alex and Victoria helped Megan dress.

'H...how's...G...Glen?' Megan forced past her chattering teeth.

'Just get dressed,' ordered Chrissie. 'I'll help Glen. You too, Alex. Get your clothes on.'

Alex ignored Chrissie. He held Megan until Victoria finished. With Megan dressed, Alex dressed himself in bare seconds.

'Where’s he hurt?' Carl asked.

'I'm not a God-damned doctor,' snapped Chrissie. 'I warned you this would happen! Look at him, Carl. This is all your fault. He’s probably got internal bleeding. He probably punctured his lung.'

Oh, my God
, thought Megan.
What have I done?

Glen opened his eyes. ‘Help me up.’

‘What?’ asked Chrissie. ‘Are you sure?’

‘I can walk it off,’ groaned Glen.

‘Help him up,’ ordered Carl. ‘Quickly. Get his clothes on.’

Relief swept through Megan when she saw Glen back up on his feet.

'Everyone start walking,' insisted Victoria. 'Quickly. Before hypothermia sets in.'

Supported by Alex and Victoria, Megan began walking laps around the chamber. Chrissie and Carl supported Glen behind her.

On their third lap past Megan's bag, Carl said, 'He's just cracked some ribs. He'll be fine. Won’t you, Glen?’

Glen nodded.

On lap six, walking unaided, Megan realized she was wearing Alex's gray hoodie. She kept glancing over her shoulder, checking Glen. By lap eight, Glen limped along unaided. After ten laps they all stopped around her bag.

Megan gave the hoodie back to Alex.

'You still need it,' he said, shaking his head. 'I'm all right.'

He was shivering.

'Put it on,’ said Megan, too sore to argue.

Glen limped over. 'How are you, Megan?'

'How are
you
?' Megan shot back. ‘I’m so sorry I hurt you, Glen.’

She carefully wrapped her arms around his skinny frame. 'Thank you, Glen. You saved me from breaking my legs.’

Glen pressed his chin down onto the top of her head. 'I thought you were meant to be light.'

Alex pointed at the ceiling vent. 'You might have saved us all, Megan. You were incredible.'

'I agree,' said Carl, squeezing her shoulder gently. Everyone murmured agreement. Even Chrissie.

Megan felt slightly guilty accepting their praise. She hadn't intended to follow through with their plan.

But I did. That's what counts, isn't it?

'I need to sit down,' said Glen. ‘Just for a second.’

They all huddled together around Megan's bag.

Chrissie asked, 'What if Megan had slid into the bomb, Carl?'

'Then we'd all be dead,' replied Carl. 'If we overthink everything, we won't
do
anything.'

Megan asked, 'Why did you pull me up the ice so fast? You almost tore my arms off. You really hurt me.'

'That was my fault,' admitted Alex. 'I climbed on Carl's shoulders so the rope could reach you. When you called 'Okay', I just jumped down off his shoulders. I thought I'd come down slowly and you'd go up slowly.'

Megan remembered how terrified she’d felt.
My instincts told me it wasn't safe. I should have trusted them. I won't make that mistake again.

'The ice had barely any friction,' explained Carl. 'That's why you shot up so fast. We didn't plan for that.'

'You didn’t plan for anything,' snapped Chrissie.

Megan realized Chrissie was right. Nothing went as they’d expected.

It's a miracle I'm not lying on the floor right now screaming in agony with broken bones. Or numb from the neck down.

Carl stood up and pointed at Chrissie. ‘At least I had a plan. What’s your plan? To sit around and freeze to death?’

Carl walked over and crouched beside Ericsson’s corpse. He’d used Ericsson’s left boot to make their rope. He dropped that one and began unlacing Ericsson’s right boot.

'What are you doing?' Victoria called.

Carl looked up. 'I'm taking Ericsson's boots.'

'He’s dead, Carl,’ declared Victoria. ‘You can’t wear those.’

‘Are you serious?’ Carl asked. He shook his head as though Victoria were speaking in another language. ‘We have limited resources, Victoria. We can't waste anything. Especially not clothes. Chrissie should wear my sneakers. And either you or Chrissie should take Ericsson's long pants. Your feet are bare under those gardening shoes, Victoria. You should take his socks unless you want your toes to fall off from frostbite. This is about survival. We don't have a choice now.’

Carl kicked off his sneakers and pulled on Ericsson’s boots.

Chrissie stood up. 'I have a daughter. I need to get home. I can't die in here. I'm going to say a prayer for Ericsson, and then I'm going to take his cargo pants. I'll bring you back his socks, Victoria.'

Carl started to help with Ericsson’s pants, but Chrissie waved him away. 'I don't want any help, Carl. I'll do it myself.'

Megan began to shiver again.
I wish Ericsson had a jacket. His shirt is too blood-soaked to wear and I’m shivering again already.

Megan glanced at Alex in his hoodie. Alex was staring at his watch.

Glen noticed too.

'Are you late for something, Alex?'

'Huh?'

'You keep staring at your watch,' Glen said.

Alex pointed up to the vent. 'I set the alarm on my phone.'

‘Why?' asked Megan. ‘Won’t that waste the battery?’

Alex shook his head. 'I set the alarm to test the battery. If we hear the alarm, we know the phone's still broadcasting our SOS.'

'That's smart,' said Glen.

'When's the alarm set to go off?' asked Megan.

Alex studied his watch while holding one finger in the air. 'Riiiiight....'

Megan panicked quietly inside.
What if I broke the phone? If not by dropping it, then maybe when I jammed it into the vent.
She'd certainly heard something crack.

Alex pointed at the vent, '...now.'

Nothing happened.

No alarm.

No beep.

No sound at all.

Oh, God. I broke it.

Megan's heart sank. Now she had to explain. She had to explain how she'd broken the phone. How she'd ruined maybe their only chance of rescue.

She stood up, ready to explain what happened.

She never had a chance.

The alarm sounded before she could get a word out.

It sounded like a choir of electronic angels singing above her head.

In fact, it
was
music. Classical music. Like the classical music her Mom used to play in the hospital.

'What music is that?' asked Carl.

'Shhhh,' hissed Victoria. 'I'm listening.'

Everyone kept completely quiet, completely still, listening to the music.

The steel walls intensified the music in the same way they intensified everything else. Only this time it sounded good. As the song drew to its climax, Megan found herself wishing it would keep playing.

But the music ended.

The chamber fell silent again.

Everyone looked at Alex.

'Thanks, Alex,' said Megan.

'It's one of my favorites,' said Alex.

'That's not your music,' said Victoria. ‘You stole that phone, didn’t you?’

Megan felt the mood shatter.

Victoria yanked them back to reality.

Whatever tiny pleasure the music had imbued instantly evaporated.

Alex raised an eyebrow. 'From whom?'

'From whoever owns that music,' replied Victoria. 'Because it certainly isn’t you.'

'It's my phone,' said Alex.

'Liar!' yelled Victoria, standing up and pointing down at Alex. 'You're a liar. And a thief. And probably much worse. I know a lie when I hear it. I was a school teacher for sixteen years. You stole that phone. Now admit it.'

 
Holy crap
, thought Megan.
Where did this sudden aggression come from?

Alex stood up and faced Victoria. 'I'll admit that you're a crazy old bitch.'