MELT: A Psychological Thriller

by Shane M Brown

  '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.'

  Victoria's eyes blazed. Her face and neck flushed bright red. She stepped closer, pointing at Alex like a teacher points at a belligerent student. 'You lying arrogant little...little...fucker!'

  Megan glanced around the group. Did Victoria really just say that?

  The surprised expressions confirmed it.

  'I hope you didn't speak to your students like that,' said Glen, moving closer to Alex.

  'But he’s lying,' blurted Victoria. 'I can prove it.'

  'Bullshit,' said Alex. ‘You don’t know your ass from your elbow.’

  Victoria pointed up to the phone.

  'What was the name of that piece of music?'

  I hope he knows it, thought Megan. Just to calm her down.

  'Come on then,' insisted Victoria, glaring at Alex. 'You said it was your favorite. Who was the composer?'

  Alex shrugged. ‘It is my favorite, but I haven’t a clu
e what it’s called.’

  'See! Do you all see now?' Victoria cried. 'He admitted it. He's a liar and a thief!'

  Everyone was looking at Victoria, at her explosive spectacle of livid rage, not at Alex.

  Victoria looked unhinged.

  ‘That was Beethoven,’ she said. ‘An excerpt from Symphony number 5 in C minor. That’s not his music. Look at him!’

  'It’s not my music,' said Alex. ‘I didn't choose it.’

  'Who chose it?' asked Carl.

  'My psychologist,' replied Alex. 'It's part of my treatment.'

  'Treatment for what?' spat Victoria.

  Alex rubbed his hands together. 'For your sake, Victoria, let’s just hope we’re not in here long enough for you to find out.’

  #

  Walking laps barely kept Megan from constantly shivering.

  ‘This is ridiculous,’ said Carl, rubbing his bare arms. ‘We can’t walk in circles forever.’

  Chrissie walked in Ericsson's fatigues and Carl’s sneakers. She'd rolled her skirt into a neck sock. Still wearing her original tan business jacket, she looked half soldier, half banking executive.

  ‘You can freeze if you want,’ she said. ‘I plan on surviving.’

  The group split up to walk around the Mayan calendar again. Megan looked away from Ericsson's partially headless corpse. He lay pushed up against the wall, stripped to his underpants and shirt.

  ‘We’ll have to rest eventually,’ said Carl. ‘We’ll have to sleep. What then?’

  ‘Sleeping is suicide,’ warned Victoria. 'Hypothermia will kill us.’

  ‘I’m talking about the bomb,’ said Carl. ‘We’ve called for help. Now what about that bomb?’

  ‘We leave it,’ stated Victoria.

  ‘We can’t just leave it,’ said Carl. ‘That’s crazy! We have to do something.’

  'We are doing something,' insisted Chrissie. 'We're staying alive. We’re broadcasting an SOS signal. We’re surviving until they find us.'

  ‘What if we can’t last that long?’ asked Carl. ‘Or what if that bomb cracks through the ice and falls?’

  No one answered because the answer was obvious.

  They would all die.

  Megan glanced over her shoulder.

  Alex was trailing the group.

  Is he all right? He’s just staring into the ice again.

  Alex suddenly rushed forward to catch up.

  ‘I have an idea,’ he said.

  Everyone turned and puffed steam toward Alex. Megan even saw steam rising off people’s clothes now.

  ‘Just ignore him,’ said Victoria, her voice like acid.

  Alex pointed into the ice.

  ‘What if the ice is here to help us?’ he asked.

  Victoria shook her head and kept walking.

  ‘Is that supposed to be a joke?’ asked Carl.

  ‘Look inside it,’ pointed Alex. ‘It’s full of things. Maybe it’s all for us. To help us survive.’

  Megan remembered having a similar feeling about the Mayan calendar.

  Alex pointed at her. ‘Remember what you said about the calendar?’

  Megan nodded and thought, Of course I remember. Everyone said I was being stupid. Everyone except you.

  ‘You said it was meant for us,’ continued Alex. ‘I think you’re right. I think everything inside the ice is meant for us. We just have to reach it. Work for it. That’s how we survive.’

  Alex waved around at the chamber. ‘Look at the effort made to build this place, abduct all of us, and then seal us all in here. We’re here for a reason. A purpose.’

  Carl nodded. ‘He’s right about one thing. We weren’t put in here just to walk around in circles.’

  #

  Megan scanned the cloudy shapes in the ice. Many lay near the surface. Is Alex right? Was I right?

  Carl and Glen peered into the ice.

  Victoria hadn’t gone far. She backtracked to pass judgment.

  'Ignore him,’ she said. ‘He’s a kid. He wants attention. We need to keep moving.’

  ‘We need water to survive,’ said Glen. ‘We’ll have to get that from the ice. Alex is right about that.’

  ‘Nonsense,’ said Victoria. ‘We’ll collect melt water from around the drain.’

  Alex screwed up his face.

  'I'm not sure how things work in your house, Victoria, but I'm not drinking from our toilet.'

  Toilet? thought Megan. The drain is our toilet?

  Victoria pulled a disgusted face.

  Glen said, 'Even third world prisons provide a bucket.'

  ‘Maybe we’ll get toilet breaks,’ said Chrissie hopefully.

  'How?' asked Megan. 'There are no doors. No slots. No anything.’

  Carl still stared into the ice. ‘Alex is right. This ice is all we have.’

  Megan let that thought sink in. It didn't sink in. It was too big to fit.

  'I hate to say this,' started Chrissie. 'But I need to pee. I can't put it off any longer.'

  'Me too,' admitted Megan, realizing she’d been holding on for hours now.

  ‘I think we all do,’ said Carl.

  Alex and Glen nodded.

  Everyone needs to go, realized Megan. But no one wanted to be the first.

  Carl said, 'There's already a steady flow of melt water running down the drain. A few more trickles won't matter.'

  'I can't go in front of people,' declared Victoria.

  'None of us want that,' said Glen. ‘Trust me. We won’t be looking.’

  Megan had an idea. She fetched her umbrella and handed it to Chrissie.

  'You can crouch behind this.'

  Chrissie snatched the umbrella and rushed around the ice.

  'I'm next,' said Megan.

  With everyone shuffling for warmth they couldn’t hear much, but an awkward minute passed as the steel walls reflected every intimate sound.

  Megan really needed to go.

  Here she comes. Thank God.

  Victoria snatched the umbrella from Chrissie.

  'She just stole your turn,' said Glen, pointing at Victoria’s back.

  'And your umbrella,' added Alex.

  'I'm sorry, Megan,' Chrissie whispered. 'She grabbed it from me. I didn't want to set her temper off.'

  It's like we have two bombs in here, thought Megan. The real bomb and Victoria.

  'That's okay,' said Megan, even though it absolutely wasn't.

  Alex and Glen put their fingers in their ears to block out the sounds coming from Victoria.

  Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up!

  Victoria finally returned.

  'Who’s next?' she asked.

  ‘Me,’ spat Megan. As if you didn't know, you sneaky hag.

  ‘I washed my hands on the ice,’ said Chrissie. ‘We shouldn’t act like animals just because they treat us that way.'

  Actually, thought Megan. Animals are treated better than this.

  When Megan returned, Glen rejected the umbrella she offered.

  'No thanks,’ he said. ‘I can't hold the umbrella and aim at the same time.'

  Chrissie blocked Glen's path to the drain.

  ‘Hold on a second, Glen. You can't pee standing up. It'll splash everywhere.'

  Chrissie was right. Megan had grown up with male cousins.

  But who wants to tell a stranger how to pee? Not me, that's for sure.

  'For Christ's sake,' said Glen, looking Chrissie up and down. His face reddened with embarrassment or anger. Probably both. 'I'll pee however I like, thank you very much. That drain’s the size of a manhole!’

  ‘But the slots aren’t!’ Chrissie didn't take a backward step, even though Glen's tall frame towered over her. Her head barely reached his shoulder.

  'I’m not joking,' she said, raising her voice. 'This place will smell like a house with a hundred cats. If we women can keep the drain clean, then so can you men.'

  Glen gaped at Chrissie. 'Who do you think you are? The pee-police? Do you want to hold it for me?'

  Chriss
ie poked Glen's chest through his pajamas.

  She poked him hard.

  'I will if I have to,’ she threatened. ‘Don't think that I won't.'

  Megan winced. Glen’s chest is hurt where I fell on him. Chrissie knows that!

  Glen slapped Chrissie’s hand from his chest. 'Don't fucking poke me. Keep your hands to yourself. I didn't tell you how to take a piss!'

  Just let him go, thought Megan. This is too much already.

  But Chrissie didn’t look one bit intimidated.

  '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.’