Megan slapped it to her chest, lucky not to drop it.
'That's enough,' said Carl. 'It wasn't her fault.'
'It was,' admitted Megan. 'I'm used to it vibrating. In low power mode it doesn't vibrate. I was so excited I didn't even check.'
'It was right there in your pocket,' hissed Chrissie. 'You're such a fucking brain dead idiot!'
'Leave her alone,' said Alex.
'I'm sorry,' Megan said.
She shrugged off Carl's hand, picked up the umbrella and disappeared around the ice.
'That's it then,' said Victoria. 'No one's coming.'
'We can't be sure of that,' said Carl. 'Alex's phone is still broadcasting. It's not time to give up yet.'
'It's never time to give up hope,' said Alex. 'People are still looking for us.'
Chapter Twenty-one
'Stop sniveling,' Victoria demanded. 'Take the umbrella if you're going to cry, Megan.'
Victoria hated the sound of sniffing children. Alison was always the same. Sniff, sniff, sniff.
Megan lifted her face. Her nose looked red.
'I'm not crying,' she said. 'It's the temperature change.'
'Then blow your nose. You sound disgusting.'
Alex said, 'Victoria, stop being a nasty old witch for a while.'
A few days ago that comment would have enraged Victoria. Not anymore.
Why bother?
'How old do you think I am, Alex?'
Alex looked up from the Rubik’s cube. 'Old enough to be cranky all the time. So whatever age that kicks in.'
Victoria replied as though to a five-year-old. 'Alex, I'm sorry if I sound cranky, but Megan's constant sniffing sounds like a filthy pig. I taught snotty-nosed children for nineteen years and I shouldn't have to hear it now.'
'I'm glad you weren't my teacher,' said Megan.
'I beg your pardon.'
‘You heard me.’ Megan pulled a small handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbed her nose. 'You sound like an awful teacher. I bet you worked back when teachers were allowed to abuse children by hitting them.’
Victoria stared at Megan, too shocked to speak.
They've found my bottle. How else could she know?
'Where is it?' Victoria hissed, rising to stand over Megan.
'Where's what?'
'My bottle!' spat Victoria. 'My bottle, you smart-mouthed little bitch. Where is it?'
Victoria felt like kicking Megan. Kicking her in the face. Kicking her lying mouth.
'I don't have your bottle.'
'Liar!’
Victoria snatched Megan's bag. Megan lunged for it, but Victoria shook it violently upside-down. ‘How dare you!'
Everything spilled out.
Victoria knelt and grabbed the bottle that tumbled out.
I found it. I knew she was lying.
Victoria shook the bottle.
Empty.
'Where is it!' she yelled.
'Where's what?' asked Chrissie. 'What's wrong, Victoria?'
Something broke under Victoria's knee.
Sharp pain flared.
'Hey!' yelled Megan. 'You’re breaking my stuff!’
'Then give it to me!' Victoria yelled, standing to hurl the empty bag back at Megan.
Megan ducked the bag and pretended she was innocent.
Victoria gripped the bottle like a club. 'Empty your pockets, Megan. Empty your pockets or I'll smash this bottle in your face.'
Victoria didn't know where the words were coming from, but she didn't stop.
Megan scrambled to her feet.
'What's going on?' demanded Alex.
'She thinks we found her secret,' answered Megan.
'Why?'
Megan bent to pick up an icepick.
'Whoa — that's enough,' said Carl, appearing from around the ice.
Nice try, little bitch, thought Victoria, seeing right through Megan's fakery. Victoria had dealt with devious girls before. Girls far more devious than Megan.
Victoria pointed at Carl. 'He tortured that girl, but you all act like it never happened. What I did was an accident. Where is my chance to explain? You gave Carl a chance. Where’s my chance?'
'It's right now,' said Chrissie. 'We're ready to listen. We owe you that, Victoria.'
'That's my right,' insisted Victoria.
Chrissie nodded. 'Tell us then.'
Victoria calmed herself, but kept the bottle.
She held up her left hand.
'Look. I can’t bear to wear that ring now. Graham worked two jobs to afford a solitaire diamond engagement ring. I even wore it turned around in the schoolyard to protect the diamond.'
'Turned around?' asked Chrissie.
Victoria twisted her wedding ring to demonstrate. 'I turned my ring around so I could close my hand around the diamond. To keep it safe.
'Keep going,' prompted Chrissie.
Victoria said, 'I was the only teacher on lunch duty that day. I heard the Morgan twins swearing. When I tried to drag them to the principal’s office, they attacked me.'
'Little kids?' asked Megan.
'Stop interrupting me!' Victoria spat. 'They were ten years old!'
Megan nodded, backing away.
'When I grabbed Tommy Morgan, he and his brother assaulted me like little savages. Tommy was kicking my shins and James was thumping my back.'
'And?' prompted Carl.
'So I slapped Tommy.'
'That's it?' asked Alex. 'You slapped a kid?'
Victoria shook her head. She raised her hand. 'I had my ring turned around. I always turned my ring around in the schoolyard. To protect the diamond.'
SLAAAP!
Victoria remembered the awful sound. The tearing feeling. The blood that squirted over her dress.
She said, 'I didn't know a diamond could do that to a child's face.'
Everyone stared at Victoria.
'It was awful. His face just...just...' Victoria couldn't describe how Tommy Morgan's face had peeled open.
'What happened?' asked Megan.
'I was suspended,' answered Victoria.
'I meant what happened to the boy?'
'Oh...well...obviously...he was very hurt,' replied Victoria. 'He needed facial surgery. Several times, I think.'
'What happened to you?' asked Chrissie.
Victoria recalled decade-long friendships evaporating. How people would turn their shopping carts around to avoid her.
I thought we'd get through it. I was naive.
'It wasn't me they went after,' answered Victoria. 'It was Graham. They weren't satisfied with ruining my career, so they started spreading rumors about my husband.'
'What kind of rumors?' asked Megan.
'Disgusting things. Revolting things about our daughter, Alison.'
Megan said, 'You told me you didn’t have children.'
'I don't,' replied Victoria. 'Alison was adopted. But that doesn't mean Graham would...would....'
'Molest her?' finished Chrissie.
Victoria nodded. ‘That’s what they said, but Graham kept me out of it. Even though I caused the hateful lies by slapping Tommy Morgan, Graham dealt with everything. The police, the courts, the lawyers — Graham handled all that himself. He took the entire burden upon himself.'
'Did he serve time?' asked Carl. 'Men like that don’t do well in prison.'
'No,' replied Victoria evenly. 'He hung himself in our garage.'
'What happened to Alison?' asked Megan.
‘She was taken away.'
For drawn out seconds no one spoke. Only the ice, dripping and gurgling.
Victoria waited for someone to return her note. No one stepped forward.
Even after hearing the truth, they still haven't any decency.
'I've suffered enough,' said Victoria, holding up the bottle. 'I don't deserve to be in here. I don't deserve this.'
'I'm sorry, Victoria,' Carl said. 'But that can’t be your bottle.'
'Why not?' asked Victoria, truly spent.
; Carl held up another bottle, still glistening with icy residue. 'Because this one is.'
#
Carl passed Chrissie a small yellow envelope.
Victoria didn’t try to intervene. They know the truth already.
Chrissie opened the envelope.
She screwed up her face.
It must be a photograph, thought Victoria. A picture of Tommy Morgan's stitched up face.
Victoria didn't need to see the pictures again. She remembered his face unzipping from earlobe to nostril. Stitched up, he looked like a Halloween mask come to life.
'It was an accident,' repeated Victoria. 'That boy was attacking me. I was defending myself.'
'This isn't about Tommy,' said Chrissie.
'It's not mine?' asked Victoria.
'It's yours all right,' said Carl. 'But it's not about Tommy Morgan.'
'What does it say?' asked Megan.
Carl leveled his gaze steadily on Victoria. 'It says Victoria's husband was a kiddy-fiddler.'
Victoria almost threw the bottle at Carl. Instead, she demanded, 'Who says that?'
'Your daughter,' replied Carl. 'It's a letter from Alison. It's addressed to you.'
Chrissie's face screwed up. She waved the letter at Victoria. 'She says you knew, Victoria. You knew your husband molested her.'
'She's wasn't our real daughter!' screeched Victoria. 'That's why she hated us. That's why she did this. That's why she keeps writing those stupid letters.'
Chrissie shook the letter again. 'She's asking why you didn't stop him. She wants to understand.'
'What did you tell her?' asked Megan. 'Did you even reply to her letters?'
'She killed my husband,' yelled Victoria.
'She's an adult now,' said Megan. 'Why would she lie?'
Victoria shook her head. I don't need to explain myself to these people. These strangers. They only see the evil in people.
She snatched the letter off Chrissie. 'It's none of your business.'
Megan pointed at the letter. 'Everything in here's our business, Victoria. These messages weren't frozen in the ice by accident.'
Victoria shuddered. That ice. I hate that damn ice. I hate the ice and everything inside this damn room.
Megan added, 'I doubt a grown woman would keep lying for all these years.'
Victoria grabbed the umbrella. 'You're despoiling the name of a wonderful man whom none of you knew.'
Carl said, 'It doesn't sound like you knew him either.'
Victoria held back her hostile reply and kept walking. Don't be drawn into their muckraking. That's what they want.
At the drain, she unfolded the letter and recognized Alison’s handwriting.
Alison had begun school with poor penmanship, but every day they practiced until Alison's handwriting was perfect. Victoria could see Alison had kept it up. Graham often said that manners and a good pen were a person's two greatest tools in life.
He also had another saying.
Once a liar, always a liar.
Victoria calmly tore Alison's lies to smaller and smaller pieces. When no piece remained larger than a thumbnail, she fed every shred down the drain with the shit where it belonged.
#
Victoria hated them.
She truly did.
She stopped near Ericsson and Glen.
Both corpses lay exposed again. Everyone avoided this spot because of the radiation. The place had terrified Victoria before, but now she preferred it over being with the others. Death didn’t horrify her any longer.
If I stay here, no one will come near me because of the radiation. Maybe I'll just sit down and keep these two company.
Then she spotted it.
It lay in the depression forming behind Ericsson as the ice retreated. She recognized it immediately. It didn't belong in this pile of death.
Bracing a knee on Glen and a hand on Ericsson, she leaned over the bodies and jerked the toy free.
It was an antique jack-in-the-box.
It’s beautiful.
The handmade wooden box was intricately carved and in near-perfect condition. Generation of families had obviously passed this down to their children.
Does it still work?
Victoria held her breath and turned the silver handle.
TINNNNGGGG
A perfect note sounded out.
The others don't deserve to enjoy this, but they'll hear it anyway. I might as well show them.
As she walked, she turned the handle. The song played out. She recalled the words from her early years teaching children:
All around the mulberry bush,
The monkey chased the weasel,
The monkey stopped to pull up his sock...
SLAM!
Alex slammed his hand down on the box.
Victoria shrieked.
Alex wrenched the box from her grasp. He acted like it might contain a bomb.
Because it might, realized Victoria. What was I thinking?
‘Are you crazy?’ shouted Alex.
'Sorry,' she blustered. 'I wasn't thinking. I just picked it up to carry around.'
Alex gripped the box tightly. ‘At least you didn’t throw it at me this time.’
‘We need to weigh the lid down,’ said Victoria.
Alex showed the others.
Megan had a better idea than weighing down the lid. She slid her belt off and wrapped it twice around the box. She fastened the buckle on top.
'Well?' Alex asked.
Megan shrugged. 'I don't know when these were invented. Do you, Victoria?'
Victoria just shook her head, still shocked at how careless she'd been.
'What if there's food inside?' asked Chrissie.
'Then it stays in there,' replied Megan.
Alex added, 'Otherwise Jack might jump from his box and bite your face off.'
Chrissie looked frustrated. 'Did you smell it, Victoria?’
‘No,' admitted Victoria.
'Jesus,' said Chrissie. 'We're all starving to death and you just wanted to hear the music?'
Victoria realized it sounded crazy, but she would truly prefer to hear music than eat food right now.
Her soul felt empty, not her stomach.
'Be careful, Chrissie,' warned Carl.
Chrissie pressed her nose to the edge of the lid and sniffed. 'I can't smell anything. I think we should open it.’
Everyone looked at Victoria.
‘I don’t know this time. It’s too obscure.’
Megan said, 'My instincts say it's a trap.’
'Of course it's a trap,' said Alex. 'Even normal jack-in-the-boxes are traps to scare the shit out of people.’
‘We’ll never find food like this,’ complained Chrissie. ‘What if the Trojan horse was the only real trap? What if Megan’s theory is wrong and Glen just got unlucky. What proof does she really have? No one else has been hurt.’
‘No one else has been hurt because we’ve been following the rules,’ insisted Megan.
‘I think you’re wrong. I don’t think these artifacts are as dangerous as you claim.’
‘Well, I don’t really care what you think,’ said Megan.
'Let's vote,' insisted Chrissie.
According to the vote, only Chrissie wanted to risk opening it. Jack was staying indoors today, and Victoria felt better for it.
Chrissie didn’t.
'Aren't you people hungry?' demanded Chrissie. ‘I'm so hungry I can hardly think straight. What if I open it around the ice by myself?'
'The vote is over, Chrissie.' Carl pointed at the ice. 'If you want more food, find some we know is safe.'
'According to Megan's retarded system?' complained Chrissie. ‘She was a frigging charity-mugger before this!’
Megan spun and pointed at Chrissie. ‘I’m sick of your constant bitching. I change my vote. Let her open it. You're too much hard work to keep alive, Chrissie.’
'I change my vote too,' agreed Alex. 'But open it near the burial mound so we don't have to dr
ag your body far, Chrissie.'
Chrissie and Megan glared at each other.
'Do it,' said Megan. 'I dare you.'
Chrissie glanced at Victoria, and Victoria for once found herself feeling much the same way as Megan.
She didn't offer any response.
Not a shrug.
Not a nod.
Nothing.
Chrissie had led the charge in attacking Graham. There was no coming back from that.
'Fuck it!' shouted Chrissie, pushing herself away from the box. 'Fuck it and fuck all of you.'
Chrissie picked up an icepick and attacked the ice.
'I hope I find your bottle, Megan. I just hope I find your bottle before you die.'
Chapter Twenty-two
Victoria shed her cardigan.
This place smells revolting.
The drain, the corpses, themselves, every smell grew worse by the hour.
Victoria sat on her cardigan and watched Alex fussing over Megan’s ear.
They both have secrets.
They’re both hiding something.
Something dreadful.
I don’t need to find their bottles.
After days locked together, Victoria knew their sins.
Alex was easy.
His mutilated leg was proof. Scarring like his usually resulted from a car wreck. From a high speed car wreck. Too young for a driver’s license, Alex must have stolen the car.
The wreck killed someone.
Not a passenger or a friend. Someone riding in the other car. An innocent child, Victoria guessed, or children — killed by Alex in the wreck. Their parents had lived. Or maybe an uncle. Whoever, they meant to settle the score with Alex.
That's why Alex carries the knife. He's terrified.
His bottle will have photos. Wait until Megan sees the young faces of the children he killed. He won't be her golden boy then.
Victoria knew Megan’s secret too.
Megan repulsed Victoria.
She’s a slut.
Megan flaunted it.
She was constantly the center of male attention.
She’d needed no extra encouragement to shed her clothes for the rope. The tiny scrap of yellow cotton she called underpants were practically transparent. She couldn't wait to be nearly naked and surrounded by men.
Then she'd volunteered to go up the ice.
MELT: A Psychological Thriller Page 20
