MELT: A Psychological Thriller

by Shane M Brown

  ‘Okay.’ He quickly punched in numbers. ‘If we divide 38 meters by 3.14 we get the diameter of the dome. The height of a dome is half of the diameter.’

  ‘If you say so,’ said Carl.

  Alex put away his phone. ‘The dome is about six meters high and twelve meters wide.’

  ‘We have enough clothes,’ declared Carl.

  'But we'll freeze without our clothes,' said Victoria.

  'We'll work quickly,' said Megan.

  Carl began unbuttoning his UPS shirt. ‘It’s our only chance. Come on. Everyone. Get your clothes off!’

  Megan wrenched open the button on her jeans.

  Glen stripped off his bathrobe and began shedding his pajamas. After a second, Alex joined in, throwing his hoodie and shirt to where Carl was twisting and knotting all their clothes together.

  Glen had the palest skin Megan had ever seen. Pale and crowded with moles.

  'Cancer time-bombs,’ said Glen, touching a mole. ‘Skin cancer runs in my family.’

  Megan now understood why Glen was so pale. He wasn’t sick. He was avoiding getting sick. Although he was thin, he was nothing but muscle.

  Carl waved at Alex. ‘We need your track pants, Alex. We need everything. Hurry up.'

  Alex untied the drawstring and yanked down his track pants.

  Everyone stopped what they were doing.

  Oh, my God! thought Megan.

  Alex's right leg was mutilated.

  'Holy shit,' said Glen, openly staring. 'Were you attacked by a shark?'

  Megan tried not to appear repulsed by the glistening pink spider web of scar tissue.

  It looks like his leg's been in a blender.

  Alex ignored Glen’s question about a shark attack.

  'Sorry,' said Glen quickly. 'It’s none of my business.'

  Chrissie winced. 'What did that to you, Alex? It doesn't even look healed.'

  'It's healed,' said Alex.

  'But what happened?' asked Chrissie.

  'Mind your own business,' declared Carl, starting work on the rope again.

  Alex and Glen both helped Carl.

  Megan had never felt so cold in her life. When she knelt to help with the rope, she felt even colder.

  'Just wait a second,' said Victoria, pointing at their quickly forming rope. 'This is insane. You can't make decisions that affect us all. We're all trapped together. We should decide as a group.'

  'That's true,' said Glen, standing up, shivering, tall and pale and dressed only in his blue cotton boxer shorts. 'Let's vote. Who wants to escape?'

  Glen, Carl, Alex and Megan raised their hands.

  'We win,' declared Glen. 'Four against two. We're escaping.'

  'We all want to escape!' declared Chrissie. ‘But this rope idea is crazy!’

  'You're not using our clothes,' declared Victoria, crossing her arms. 'No way.'

  Chrissie nodded. 'Your rope isn't long enough. It can’t possibly be long enough.'

  Alex and Glen undressed the defiant women with their eyes.

  'Don't even think about it,' hissed Chrissie. 'I'll tear your balls off and use them for—'

  'We’ll have enough,' cut in Carl.

  Megan’s bra, underpants and shoes offered practically zero insulation from the cold.

  Oh, my God it’s freezing! And Chrissie is right. This rope isn’t long enough without their clothes. Not even close.

  ‘Shit,’ Glen swore as his knots pulled apart.

  Carl frowned over Glen's work. 'Let me do the knots, Glen. You keep twisting the clothes and I'll knot them, okay?'

  Glen’s hands were shaking so much from the cold that even twisting the clothes looked difficult.

  Chrissie pointed up the ice. ‘Listen to me. This is suicide. None of you can do this. There must be another way.’

  ‘There’s no other way,’ insisted Carl.

  'Who’s going up?' asked Glen.

  'I will,' said Alex. 'I'm lightest.’

  Carl frowned over the rope. 'You're not the lightest.’

  Megan realized who Carl meant. 'I'm lighter than you, Alex.'

  'Yeah, but....' Alex motioned up the ice to the vent. 'Can you do that?'

  'Can you?' Megan shot straight back.

  'I can try.'

  'So can I,' said Megan. 'The rope will last longer for me. If the rope breaks, I'll slide down. You'll all catch me, right?'

  'Of course,' said Glen. Alex and Carl nodded.

  ‘Glen's the tallest,’ said Carl. ‘Megan can stand on his shoulders and lean against the ice. I'll throw the rope over the ice and pull her up slowly.'

  Carl made it sound easy, but Megan began to have doubts.

  Could it really be that easy? Victoria and Chrissie don't think so.

  Carl was still talking. 'Megan, you'll just need to hold on tight. Once the phone's in the shaft, we'll lower you down.'

  ‘How do I put the phone in the shaft?’

  'My phone will fit through the vent,’ replied Alex.

  Megan nodded.

  The immediacy of what she was about to do made her feel dazed, as though some part of her brain couldn't comprehend that she'd agreed to it.

  'The rope is ready,' said Carl.

  Glen's pale skin rippled with goose bumps. 'Are you ready for this, Megan?'

  Am I? thought Megan. Can I really do this?

  Making the rope was her idea. Using the ceiling vent was her idea. These guys thought she offered their best chance. What choice did she have?

  'I'm ready,' she said, rubbing her own goose-bumpy arms. 'Let's hurry before I freeze.'

  Alex gave Megan his phone. 'It's sending our SOS every five minutes.'

  Megan pushed the phone down her bra. She’d need both hands for the rope.

  Glen braced his hands on the ice.

  'Can you hold my weight?'

  Glen bent his knees. 'I'm stronger than I look. Don’t worry. I’m ready.'

  Megan grasped his shoulders and rested her shoe on his knee. 'Won't my shoes hurt your shoulders?'

  'Don't worry about it,' replied Glen. 'Just hurry.'

  There's no backing out now.

  'Okay, here I go,' she said.

  Megan practically slithered up Glen's back. It was the only way. Her shoe wrenched down his boxer shorts.

  'Don't worry!' he hissed. 'Just get up there! Help her, Alex!'

  'I'm...trying,' groaned Alex.

  Megan paused with her left sneaker on Glen's left shoulder, her left hand cupping his forehead, and her own forehead pressed against the ice for balance. Alex supported her right leg, ready to give her a boost into a standing position.

  Here comes the tricky part.

  She needed to stand straight up on Glen's shoulders. 'Alex, grab my legs when I stand up, okay?’

  'I'm ready.'

  'I'll grab your knees,' said Glen.

  Here goes.

  Megan pushed herself up, sliding her forehead up the ice. Alex pushed from below. Her right shoe found Glen's right shoulder and Megan stood straight up.

  I'm UP!

  Alex grabbed her calves.

  Glen grabbed her knees.

  Megan couldn't grab anything.

  Her hands slid uselessly over the ice. Only Alex, Glen, and her own sense of balance kept her upright.

  'Don't let go,' she cried. ‘It’s slippery. I need the rope!’

  ‘Throw the rope!’ yelled Alex.

  'Here it comes!' Carl called.

  Megan looked up, expecting to see their makeshift rope flop over the ice.

  Instead, a heavy black boot sailed over the ice.

  That’s Ericsson's boot.

  Carl had weighted the rope with the boot. The heavy boot bounced twice before dragging the rope toward her.

  Megan hadn't even considered how they'd get the rope over the ice.

  What else haven't I thought of? Probably lots of things!

  She’d been stupid to think she could do this. Chrissie was right. It was a stupid plan. A suicidal plan.
Why had it taken her until now to realize?

  'I can't do this!' she yelled to everyone.

  'What?' called Carl.

  'The rope is too short!' Alex yelled back. 'She can't reach it!'

  Megan looked up. The boot hung about five feet out of reach. The rope is too short! Thank God!

  Guilty relief flooded through her. She didn't have to do it now. Their rope was too short.

  'That's all we have,' Carl called back.

  Before Megan could protest, Alex released her calves and dashed off around the ice.

  'I'm coming down,' said Megan. 'How should we do this?'

  'No, stay up there. I'm still okay.'

  'My hands are freezing and the rope's too short,' said Megan. 'I'm coming down, Glen.'

  Carl interrupted Glen’s reply.

  'Try now!' Carl called.

  Try what?

  The boot struck Megan’s head. She looked up. The rope was practically right in her face.

  Oh, NO! They made it longer. How could they do that?

  'How's that?' called Carl.

  Megan couldn't reply because she was panicking.

  'Perfect!' yelled Glen. 'She's got it!'

  Perfect? They still think I'm doing this?

  Carl called, ‘Ready, Megan?'

  Megan looked between her knees. 'I'm scared, Glen.'

  Without looking up, Glen said, 'You won't get hurt. If the rope breaks, you'll just slide down to me.'

  Megan had a desperate idea.

  She gripped the rope tightly. With something to hold, she felt less out of control. Now just her elbows, stomach and knees touched the ice.

  'OK,' she called out. ‘Pull slowly!’

  When they start pulling, I'll let go and say my hands were too numb to hold on. Then someone braver than me can—

  Megan never finished that thought.

  Her arms nearly jolted from their sockets.

  She shot up the ice like a human rocket.

  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!

  The 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.