The men had no choice but to watch her slither up the wet ice.
They could see everything. It was repulsive. And then when they'd pulled Megan off Glen, Victoria witnessed all the evidence she needed.
Megan was aroused.
Sexually aroused.
Her nipples had swollen so hard the engorged red skin was visible through her bra.
'It was just the cold,' Chrissie commented later, but Victoria knew better.
Megan had probably dirtied herself with a dozen different men. And she had brothers. She was the girl that would do anything for male attention, even from a family member.
That's Megan's secret.
Incest.
Incestuous...filthy...little...slut.
Victoria knew it. Megan was dirtier than the public toilet she'd been abducted from.
#
'Megan!' Alex called. 'Come check this out!'
Victoria followed, hoping Alex had found a bottle.
Carl waved Victoria closer. 'What do you think, Victoria? Is it safe?'
Alex had excavated a clay pot.
Victoria knelt beside the pot.
It's sealed. Is this stretched animal hide?
Victoria scratched the material, collecting a yellow residue under her fingernail.
She smelled it.
'Bee's wax,’ she said. ‘This is waxed paper. The wax makes the pot waterproof and airtight.'
'It’s food then,' said Chrissie excitedly. 'Preserved food.'
'The Egyptians preserved brains and body organs,' said Alex. ‘How hungry are you?’
Chrissie scowled at Alex.
Victoria tapped the drum-like seal. 'It sounds full.'
'Full of food,' insisted Chrissie. 'They haven't given us any food since the tofu.'
Turning the pot, Victoria found two small markings.
'What language is that?' asked Carl.
'Arabic.'
'So from Iran, Iraq or Syria, right?'
'Or Mesopotamia,' answered Victoria. 'What period has our timeline reached?'
Megan peered over at their collected artifacts.
'We've just gone from BC to AD. The last artifact is the Roman helmet.'
Victoria nodded. 'If this pot is Persian, it's safe.'
'Well?' asked Chrissie. 'Is it Persian?'
Do these people think I'm a computer? thought Victoria. I'm a person who needs food to think. I haven’t had my medication. I’m not even myself.
'I was a teacher,' replied Victoria steadily. 'Not an archaeologist.'
Alex spoke up. 'Anything sealed this carefully was probably used for trade. I bet those symbols are like canned food labels. One symbol describes the contents and the other symbol shows the weight or the price.’
He's probably right, thought Victoria.
'But that doesn't date the pot,' said Megan. ‘And what’s the technological innovation? Clay pots were invented long before 100 AD.’
'Maybe using beeswax was a new technology,’ suggested Alex.
Victoria stroked the pot’s smooth surface. 'I don't think it's the bees wax or the symbols. I think it's the pot.'
'How?’ asked Megan.
'It's glazed,' answered Victoria. 'Glazed pots were valuable. They probably weren't used for food storage until the beginning of the 2nd or 3rd century.'
'So is it safe?' asked Carl.
Victoria replied, ‘I'd say this pot dates back to the Persian culture after the crucifixion of Christ.'
Chrissie pushed forward. 'Give me your knife, Alex.'
'Screw that,' said Alex. 'It could be full of angry scorpions. Let's throw it at the wall and stand back.'
'You watch too many movies,' said Chrissie. 'Scorpions would have frozen to death.'
'He's got a point,' said Carl.
As the others argued, Victoria unwrapped the waxy string and peeled open the stiff paper.
She leaned her face to the opening.
'No, wait!' cried Megan.
The impact was stunning.
Victoria felt it hit her face.
The chemicals seemed to ram through her nasal passages on a one-way trip to her brain.
Her mind instantly disconnected from her surroundings.
Nothing could bring Victoria back.
The beautiful aroma held her like a magic spell.
Perhaps she'd watched too many movies, but the smell conjured images of the Euphrates River. Of palms around an oasis. Of palm-filled gardens.
Of date palms.
Victoria opened her eyes.
The others stared, waiting for her to begin foaming at the mouth.
'Dates,' announced Victoria.
Drawing one from the pot, she took a bite, closed her eyes, and let the flavor saturate her senses.
If these are poison, then this is the way I want to die.
She heard the pot tip over as the others raced for food.
When Victoria opened her eyes, everyone shared similar expressions of rapture.
'These are incredible,' said Megan through a mouthful of chewed date. 'And they're huge.'
'How many are there?' asked Chrissie.
Carl emptied the pot.
'...eighteen, nineteen, twenty. Twenty left. So five each.'
Victoria collected her dates.
No one thanked her.
They never do.
#
Victoria couldn't hold back any longer. Megan was driving her crazy.
'For God's sake, Megan. Stop doing that!'
'Stop what?'
'Stop making those awful groaning sounds. You sound like a sick dog.'
Alex stopped tinkering with the Roman helmet. 'What is it, Megan?'
Megan shook her head. 'Nothing.'
'Now you’re lying,' said Victoria.
'I'm not lying!' barked Megan. 'I haven't even said anything.'
Alex got up. 'What is it?'
Megan looked torn, but finally blurted out, 'The music.'
Victoria watched Megan pace. She thinks she can hear music? She's losing it.
'There is no music,' said Alex.
'I know,' said Megan. 'Where is it?'
'Oh, shit,' said Alex. 'She means the alarm on my phone. In the vent.’
Megan checked her watch. 'It should have played by now.'
'She's right,' said Carl.
'Are you sure?' asked Chrissie.
I'm missing something important, realized Victoria. Why is everyone so worked up about the music not playing?
'I'm surprised it lasted that long,' said Alex.
'What are you all babbling about?' demanded Victoria.
'My phone is out of charge,' replied Alex.
Victoria suddenly understood.
'Are you saying our SOS message has stopped sending?'
Alex just nodded.
Something shut down in Victoria.
She sensed the wheels in some part of her mind grinding to a halt.
Now we're truly isolated.
No one is coming.
No one can come.
We're really going to die in here. We're all going to be cooked alive.
#
'How's your leg?' asked Carl.
Alex twisted the Rubik’s cube. 'Megan says it’s healing.'
'I've found something to help,' said Carl.
Tablets? thought Victoria. Please be tablets.
Carl hadn't found tablets.
What Victoria had thought was a measuring stick was actually a walking stick.
Only the handle remained in the ice. 'I've almost got it out.'
Victoria watched Carl work.
Tsk...tsk...tsk...
Alex asked, 'Do you think there's much chance of rescue now, Carl?'
Carl kept working. 'Definitely. They have the footage of Megan's abduction. Imagine the press coverage when a pretty young blond working for Greenpeace gets kidnapped from a shopping center. The entire country is looking for us.'
Alex nodded and looked around the chamber as thoug
h for the first time.
Victoria knew exactly how he felt.
Isolated.
She stepped closer to study the walking stick’s silver handle.
'A frog?' guessed Carl.
'I don't think so,' said Victoria. 'Maybe a turtle.'
One unblinking eye stared back.
The wooden shaft looked smooth and polished. Through the varnish Victoria noticed a pattern of scales carved into the wood.
Fish scales?
'Perhaps the handle is a fish,' Victoria predicted. 'To match the scales on the shaft.'
Victoria remembered her grandfather's walking stick with its leaping hound handle.
'Let's find out.'
Victoria stepped back just in time.
Carl yanked out the stick.
'Megan!' Carl called. 'Bring the camera!'
'You shouldn't be touching that yet,' warned Alex.
Megan and Chrissie came around.
Carl examined the stick carefully. Holding it with two fingers, he shook it gingerly away from himself. He whacked it three times on the ice.
'It's just a walking stick,' he said.
'If you can't eat it, I don't care,' said Chrissie dismissively.
'It's for Alex.’
Carl tossed the stick to Alex.
Alex caught the stick before it hit the floor. 'Shit, Carl! Don't throw it. What if it's a trap? It could be full of dynamite for all we know!'
Carl shook his head. 'You've got an imagination, Alex. First scorpions and now dynamite.'
Megan held up her iPhone. 'Can you get that ice off the handle?'
Alex nervously tapped the handle on the floor. The ice fell off in chunks.
'It's a snake,' he said, checking the handle. 'Just lovely.'
Megan screwed up her face as she took the picture.
'A cobra,' said Victoria.
'I can't tell if it's safe,' said Megan.
Victoria didn't know either. 'Put it in the dangerous pile. We don't need it.'
Alex carefully handed the stick back to Carl. 'Thanks for the offer, but too risky.’
Carl nodded. 'Better to be safe than — OUCH! Shit!'
Carl dropped the stick.
Blood welled from two puncture wounds in his palm. 'The fucking thing bit me!'
#
Everyone stared at Carl's hand.
Alex reacted first. 'Shit, Carl. It's probably poison! Venom!'
'Give me your knife!' demanded Carl. 'Hurry!'
Alex thrust the knife at Carl without hesitation.
Carl stabbed the knife into his palm. He dragged the blade across the two puncture wounds.
‘Suck out the poison,’ yelled Alex.
Carl dashed for the drain, sucking on the wound.
Sucking out the poison won't work, thought Victoria. He needs a compression bandage and an ambulance.
They had neither.
Victoria followed after everyone, in time to see Carl spit blood down the drain.
'Maybe it's not poison,' said Megan desperately. 'Maybe it's just meant to hurt you.'
Megan is wrong. She knows the rules. The traps are lethal.
Victoria backtracked to the walking stick.
Two thin spikes gave the cobra horns.
The spikes matched Carl's wounds.
Using Carl's icepick, Victoria rolled the stick to examine the spikes.
Hollow.
Like a hypodermic needle designed for injecting liquid.
Using the icepick to lift the stick, Victoria strode the long way around the ice. She tossed the walking stick onto the burial mound with the other things that killed or died.
Carl will be on this mound soon.
Further around she saw Carl stagger back from the drain.
His face looked pale as new paper on the first day of school. Megan and Alex tried supporting him.
Carl began violently jerking.
They couldn’t hold him up.
He tumbled sideways, hitting the floor hard.
Chrissie stood a few paces away, hands on her head, mumbling, 'No, no, no, no, no.'
Here we go again, thought Victoria. Just like Glen.
But Carl was still lucid. He hauled Alex close and hissed something.
Megan yelled, 'Victoria, how do we treat snake bite?'
Victoria studied Megan. Look at her. She never gives up.
'How!' Megan yelled.
'Antivenom,' replied Victoria.
Megan looked at Victoria as though she was insane.
'You need a tourniquet,' shouted Chrissie. 'Use his belt!'
Alex yanked off Carl's belt and wrenched it tight around Carl's forearm.
Victoria retreated a few paces, remembering Glen's violent reaction. She doubted simple snake venom circulated within Carl's veins.
This could get worse.
Much worse.
'Do it,' Carl insisted. 'You have to!'
'I can't,' replied Alex, buckling the belt tight. 'This might work.'
'Cut it off!’ Carl yelled. ‘Do it, Alex!'
Alex hesitated a second and then opened his pocket knife.
He pinned down Carl's wrist.
'No!' cried Chrissie. 'That will kill him faster. The venom's already in his system.'
Victoria agreed, but for different reasons. Carl had radiation poisoning. Fatal radiation poisoning. He’d rallied today, but tomorrow he'd endure an excruciating death. The snake bite would spare him tomorrow’s torment.
‘Hurry, Alex!' hissed Carl.
'Megan, hold his arm down,' instructed Alex.
Without hesitation, Megan threw her weight onto Carl's arm. Her body blocked Victoria's view, so Victoria moved for a better one. Two days ago she'd have fled around the ice covering her ears, but not now. Now she wanted to watch. She doubted either man could finish the grisly amputation.
Alex pressed the blade to Carl's wrist.
The tourniquet made Carl's veins stand out like swollen pipes, ready to burst.
It's going to be messy, thought Victoria. Messy and pointless.
'Do it!' shrieked Carl.
Alex threw his weight onto the knife.
The blade sliced deep into the side of Carl's wrist, severing the thumb tendon and grinding through the cartilage underneath. Alex screwed up his face but immediately lunged into his second cut.
This cut would surely sever the larger veins.
Here it comes, thought Victoria. This will spurt.
But at that moment, the venom found its target.
Carl jolted like a man in the electric chair. All his limbs thrust outwards.
His partially severed hand struck Alex in the face.
The knife flew from Alex’s grasp.
Megan fell sideways as Carl bucked and thrust like a man possessed. His UPS cap flew off. His big yellow phone jerked free from his belt and tumbled away.
The poison has reached his nervous system, Victoria realized. It's almost over.
Carl thrashed even faster than Glen had. He barely touched the floor. So intense seemed his agony, Victoria almost expected smoke to rise from his clothes.
She counted the terrible seconds in her head. Two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight...
All at once Carl stopped.
Eight seconds.
Victoria couldn't remember eight seconds ever taking so long. How long had it felt for Carl?
Carl lay still.
Dead still.
Megan reached toward his neck.
Her hand shook, but her fingers found his carotid artery.
'He's dead,' she pronounced.
'No, he's not,' said Alex. 'Do you know CPR, Megan? Megan!'
Megan slid away from Carl on her bottom.
'Chrissie! Victoria! Someone help me!' Alex shouted.
Alex gave up yelling for help and started pumping Carl's chest. After five quick pumps, he moved to blow air into Carl's lungs.
'Don't touch his mouth!' Chrissie yelled.
Alex looked at Chrissi
e for a moment and then sealed his mouth over Carl's.
He blew his breath into Carl's lungs.
For the first time, Victoria saw some good in Alex. Carl was beyond saving, but Alex kept trying, even at risk to his own life. Victoria realized that Alex would probably do the same for her.
There is some good inside everyone.
Alex moved to pump Carl's chest, but Victoria knelt beside him. She put her hand gently on his shoulder. 'You're just pumping the venom around his body, Alex. Even if you revive him, the venom's still inside him. Do you want him to die twice? Like this?'
Alex kept pumping, but each time with less effort.
Finally Alex slumped forward and rested his head on Carl's chest. He mumbled something Victoria couldn't hear. Victoria patted him on the back.
CRACK — clatter, clatter!
Everyone but Alex glanced at the new artifact.
It might be there to kill one of them, but it would have to wait its turn.
Chapter Twenty-three
They had too few ice chips to bury Carl.
They didn't speak over his body. They just dragged him to the burial mound and laid him against the ice.
Megan put his cap back on.
They didn’t need Carl’s clothes, but Alex took Carl’s big yellow phone. He clipped the phone to the back of his pants.
Beside Carl, Glen and Ericsson lay partially exposed like two polar explorers found decades after they’d perished.
'A block and tackle,' announced Victoria, standing over the contraption that clattered from the ice.
Alex trod past Victoria.
'Alex,' said Victoria. 'It's a pulley system. For construction.'
'I heard you,' said Alex dully. 'It's rest time.'
Victoria kicked a frozen rope with her shoe. First the Indian God Ganeesha, then the making of paper, then the Viking horseshoe, and now a block and tackle. They were all invented between 100 and 500 AD. If they’d melted from the ice themselves, they’d have emerged in the right order. They all fit the timeline perfectly.
Too bad Carl didn't find one of those instead of the walking stick.
Chrissie and Megan both trudged past Victoria.
'Come on, Victoria,' said Megan. 'It's time to rest.'
Victoria stalled a while longer, pretending to study the artifact. She spread out the stiff rope with her shoe, isolating the two heavy wooden pulleys from the mess.
MELT: A Psychological Thriller Page 21
