This will work.
Now she just needed to choose her resting place carefully.
As expected, she found the others already lying down. Victoria chose her spot and joined them.
Carl's absence felt strange.
'Why did he touch the snake?' asked Alex.
Megan said, 'Do you mean the handle?'
'Yes. I passed it to him carefully. He didn't need to touch the handle. Touching the snake was crazy. He knew that, but he just grabbed it anyway. It doesn't make sense.'
'It was an accident,' said Megan.
'He wasn't thinking straight,' said Victoria. 'He was still sick with radiation poisoning. He was trying to hide it. He rallied today, but it was going to overwhelm him tomorrow.'
Chrissie said to Alex, 'He threw that stick to you. Imagine if you’d caught it by the handle. You'd be dead now.'
'I know,' said Alex. 'And I've got the sore leg. That walking stick was meant for me. It feels like I've dodged a bullet that hit Carl.'
'Me too,' admitted Chrissie. 'That’s how I felt when the Trojan horse killed Glen instead of me.'
'That snake trap was meant for me,' said Alex.
'That's ridiculous,' said Megan. 'It was random.'
‘Was it?' asked Alex. 'Is it random that all the men are dying first?'
He's right, thought Victoria. First Ericsson, then Glen, and now Carl. Alex must feel like an endangered species.
Chrissie sat up. 'What are you saying?'
'That I can do math,' replied Alex. 'And this isn't random.'
'But it has to be,' argued Megan. 'Our abductors can't influence us in here.'
'Not our abductors,' said Chrissie tersely. 'He means us. That we're doing it. The women.'
Megan sat up, staring at Alex. 'You don't think that, do you?'
'Explain to me why only men are dying,' said Alex.
'There were more of you to start with,' said Chrissie. 'And women are more cautious. We don't take stupid risks.'
Victoria hadn't seen this coming. Alex thinks we've made some kind of pact to keep the women alive by sacrificing the men.
Megan's voice became shrill. 'Answer me, Alex. Do you really think that?'
'He does,' coaxed Chrissie, fanning Megan's anger. 'He thinks we’re all against him.'
Victoria sighed. This could wreck everything. A blistering man versus women free-for-all would spoil her plan. No one could sleep filled with anger. Worse, they might split up and sleep all over the chamber.
Alex turned to Megan, propping himself up on an elbow. 'Only you and Victoria know which artifacts are safe. And now I'm the only man left. I'm not blind. Something's going on.'
Megan started to rise to her feet, livid with outrage.
I have to stop this, thought Victoria.
'Megan!' shouted Victoria. 'Carl hasn't been dead even ten minutes. Alex is right. Only the men have died. We'd feel exactly the same in his shoes. This place messes with your head. Alex isn't immune. Leave the boy alone.'
Victoria usually attacked Alex. Hopefully the shock of hearing Victoria defend Alex would subdue Megan’s outrage.
It seemed to.
Megan lay down with her back to Alex.
Chrissie looked disappointed. She looked on the verge of trying to breathe life back into the argument, but then she slumped back, too exhausted to cause any more trouble.
She hates them both, thought Victoria. She loves seeing them fighting. I wonder if she'd love to see them die?
#
Victoria faked sleep.
Her mind felt crystal clear. For days she'd endured clouded thoughts, but not now.
She'd swept those aside.
Those wretched depression pills weren't helping me. They just confused me.
Now her body had purged the drug. She felt a different woman.
She smiled across the floor toward the pulley and tackle.
Megan was right.
The artifacts did hold the secret to escaping.
How long should I wait?
To pass the time, she thought about Graham.
After thirty minutes the sound of constant fidgeting to find comfortable positions on the steel floor had stopped.
Victoria’s knees cracked painfully as she rose. That was normal.
She needed something sharp.
Where does Alex leave his knife?
She spotted the knife clipped to his pocket. She couldn't risk waking him.
I'll have to use this icepick.
She also took the umbrella.
Halfway around the ice, the statue of Ganeesha’s face poked from the ice like a submerged baby elephant stealing a breath of air.
The remover of obstacles. That's what I'm doing. Maybe you cleared my mind and inspired me, Ganeesha.
The block and tackle lay as she'd left it.
I don’t even need to cut it.
Working quietly, she unwound the rope from the wooden block.
She tested the heavy block.
Perfect.
Solid, but not so heavy she couldn't manage. None of the other artifacts suited. She carried it the short distance easily.
The bomb lay naked of ice.
Victoria sat on the bomb so its nose cone protruded between her knees. She rested the heavy block on the bomb to catch her breath.
Before now, she'd never understood how Graham could take his own life. Now she understood. When life became too dark to bear, death beckoned like a welcome relief. A back-up plan. An emergency exit.
Now Victoria was jumping through that emergency exit.
The others won’t feel a thing. They’ll die in their sleep.
A quick death was a mercy compared to what this chamber had planned.
Victoria heaved the block above her head.
I won't even feel it.
Three. Two. One....
#
'STOP!' yelled Chrissie.
Victoria nearly dropped the heavy block.
She looked up.
Chrissie stood just meters away, her hands raised as though Victoria was about to throw a baby off a cliff.
'This is for all of us,' said Victoria. 'You know that.'
Chrissie shook her head. 'You can't just murder us all, Victoria.'
Megan and Alex appeared.
'Oh, no,' cried Megan. ‘Victoria, please don’t. We can still escape. Don’t give up hope.’
Stupid girl, thought Victoria. Even the final moments of my life are plagued with stubborn children.
'The ice is the trap,' said Victoria. 'And hope is the bait.'
Alex turned his back on Victoria. 'I'm going back to sleep. Goodnight, Victoria.'
Victoria nodded.
Alex understood. Why couldn't Chrissie and Megan?
Megan warned, 'Your arms are shaking, Victoria.'
'I'm doing this for all of us,' said Victoria.
Chrissie fumbled with a cargo pocket. 'Look at this, Victoria.'
She yanked something free.
Is that a gun?
Chrissie aimed the pistol squarely at Victoria and thumbed back the hammer.
Click
Where did she get that? It didn't matter. They'd all be dead in moments.
Victoria hadn't the strength to hold it up a second longer.
'Goodbye,' said Victoria.
Three things happened at once.
Chrissie fired the pistol.
Victoria swung down the block.
And Alex slammed his body at full speed into Victoria from behind.
CHRISSIE
Chapter Twenty-four
Victoria and Alex tumbled off the bomb in a mess of flailing limbs.
Chrissie hardly noticed.
The pistol shot felt like someone thumping her ears with boat paddles. Even her vision blurred for a moment.
'Who did you shoot?’ cried Megan.
Good question.
Chrissie grabbed Megan's sleeve. 'Stay back.'
'Alex, get up!' yelled Megan.
> He didn't answer.
Chrissie aimed at Victoria, a challenge given she lay tangled under Alex.
'Alex!' cried Megan again.
Alex didn't move. Neither of them moved.
Megan yanked her sleeve from Chrissie's grasp.
'Stay back,' ordered Chrissie. 'I might have to shoot again.'
'Why?'
‘Because I don’t know who I hit.’
Everything happened so fast.
Did I kill them both with one bullet?
'Look,' pointed Megan.
From under their bodies a dark line of blood began oozing toward the drain.
I hit someone then, realized Chrissie.
If I killed Alex, then Victoria is waiting for a chance to grab that wood and detonate the bomb.
The wood lay within Victoria's reach.
Megan couldn't be held back any longer.
'All right,' began Chrissie. 'Move that wood away.'
For once, miraculously, Megan obeyed without arguing.
Chrissie kept her pistol trained on the bodies. She intended to survive the next few minutes, even if that meant accidentally shooting Alex.
Or even Megan for that matter.
'Check them,' ordered Chrissie. 'But stay between Victoria and the bomb.'
If Victoria even twitched, Chrissie would shoot.
Megan's body would stop any bullets accidentally hitting the bomb.
'Kneel down,' said Chrissie.
You're a better human shield that way.
Megan knelt and shook Alex gently by the shoulder. 'Alex. Alex.'
Nothing.
'Roll him off her,' ordered Chrissie. 'Away from the bomb.'
'I'll check his pulse.'
'Check Victoria's first,' instructed Chrissie.
'But Alex is—’
'Check her, you idiot!' hissed Chrissie. 'She's the one trying to kill us!'
Megan checked Victoria's wrist.
'She's dead.'
Chrissie lowered the pistol. 'Thank Christ for that.'
Megan rolled Alex off Victoria and checked him for bullet wounds. 'He's got a pulse, but I can't see anything wrong with him.'
'Check his head,' suggested Chrissie.
'Why?'
'If the falling wood didn't hit the bomb, then what did it hit?'
Megan checked his head. Her fingers came away slick with blood. She searched his scalp. 'You're right. There's a huge lump and a cut. What should we do?'
Chrissie carefully pocketed the pistol. 'Let's move Victoria closer to the drain before she bleeds too much.'
'I meant about Alex.'
'He'll wake up,' replied Chrissie. 'He's just unconscious.'
They slid Victoria by the feet and parked her beside Carl. Her blood smeared right back to Alex like the first stroke from a giant paint brush.
The smeared blood revolted Chrissie.
'Wrap his head up,' said Chrissie. 'I don't want blood where we sleep.'
Megan cut a fabric square from Carl's jacket. While Chrissie held that in place, Megan wrapped Carl's belt like a leather bandage around Alex's head.
'The pressure should help,' said Megan. 'I hope he wakes up soon. If he's cracked his skull or has brain damage or something....'
'He got it trying to save us,' said Chrissie. 'It wasn't for nothing. Let's drag him. You take that wrist.'
'Be careful of his head,' said Megan.
Jeez — he weighs a ton, thought Chrissie. Moving bodies left her exhausted.
Chrissie sat, thankful the ordeal was over.
I just shot somebody. I just shot and killed a person and I don't really feel anything. Actually, I feel relieved. Very relieved.
She felt the reassuring weight of the pistol in her pocket.
'You took that gun from Ericsson, didn't you?' asked Megan.
Chrissie nodded. No point in lying.
'How did you catch Victoria?' Megan asked.
Chrissie shrugged. 'She wasn't herself. She seemed calmer, like she'd decided something. When I saw her fussing with the block and tackle, I knew she was planning something. Then she made sure she slept on the edge and pretended to go straight to sleep.’
Megan nodded. 'You really did save us. Thank you, Chrissie. It must have been hard to...to shoot her.'
'It was,' lied Chrissie. 'I'm exhausted. Let's finish resting.'
Megan nodded and checked Alex.
Chrissie lay back and slipped her hand in her pocket. Her fingers curled around the pistol's handle. She needed to rest. She needed to be clear-headed.
It would be a long day tomorrow, and she had very big plans.
#
Chrissie woke with a sudden jerk.
Her eyes shot open.
She covered them against the bright fluorescent lighting.
Christ — that's too fucking bright.
Last night's events rushed back into her head. She remembered Victoria trying to kill everyone.
I shot her. I shot her in the heart and killed her.
Whenever Chrissie awoke she felt disoriented and confused. For a few seconds, she forgot about their situation. Then it all came rushing back.
Those first few disoriented seconds were the best moments of her day.
But I'm alive and now I can stay alive.
She pushed herself up wearily. Megan had taken the umbrella. Alex lay unconscious with Carl's big belt wrapped around his head. The smell of the chamber always hit hardest in the morning.
Jeez — this place smells revolting.
The smell of human rot was the worst.
We need to push those bodies up against the ice again.
Sweat trickled down the back of her neck.
This place is heating fast. Like Victoria predicted. Look how much ice is gone. Surely we'll find food today.
Chrissie felt the pistol in her pocket. I'll make sure we find food today.
Ouch!
A sharp pain jabbed through her ribs.
Her stomach had stopped growling and started biting.
It felt like a confined beast was eating her from the inside, consuming everything in its reach — her heart, her lungs, her liver.
Chrissie pressed the painful area.
Food it wanted. Food or nicotine. They were the same thing for her.
She rubbed her shoulder patch. Empty. Her nicotine patch was spent. Her withdrawal symptoms would be even worse today.
For her own sake, Megan better not cross me.
When Chrissie fell pregnant, Michael had insisted she quit smoking during the pregnancy. That's when she'd learned to use the nicotine patches. They compensated for the cigarettes she missed when he was around.
She knew one last trick.
She peeled off the patch and listened for Megan.
I can hear her now. She's crying.
Satisfied, Chrissie began chewing the nicotine patch.
She chewed the patch into a bland pulp, extracting any nicotine that remained. Suppressing her gag reflex, she swallowed the patch.
Oh, Christ, yuck — that's horrible. How can I get this disgusting taste out of my mouth?
She listened for Megan.
Still satisfied, she leaned over and checked Alex’s pockets.
Ha — I knew it.
As expected, he'd rationed his dates.
He had two left.
Chrissie took them both. She bit one, letting the intense flavor sweep away the chemical residue left behind by the nicotine patch. She waved the date at Alex. 'Consider this payment for saving your life last night.'
She was biting into the second date when Megan returned.
'I thought you ate all your dates?' said Megan.
Chrissie shrugged. Megan's eyes looked red from crying.
'Do you do that every morning?' asked Chrissie.
'Do I pee every morning?'
'No,' said Chrissie. 'Do you sneak off for a private pity-party?'
Megan didn't answer.
She knelt and rubbed an ice chip ov
er Alex's lips, letting the water drop into his mouth.
'I thought he'd wake up this morning,' she said.
'Is that why you were crying?'
'No. Today's my Dad's birthday.'
'It was my brother's birthday two day ago,' said Chrissie.
Megan unclipped the knife from Alex's pocket. 'Why didn't you mention it?'
Chrissie shrugged again. 'Dwelling on outside stuff makes us weak. We need to set that aside to survive.'
Megan pulled off her jeans. 'What's his name?’
'My brother? Robert. Bobby. Whatever they all call him now. I only see him for Thanksgiving.'
'How old is he?'
'I don't know.' Chrissie thought for a moment. 'Twenty-eight. He's useless. His girlfriend got herself pregnant at sixteen. She's an anchor around his neck. She’s ruined his life.’
Megan began cutting the legs off her jeans. 'Couldn't you help him?'
Chrissie shook her head. 'I can't even look at his kid. I'm his aunt and I can't even stand looking at him. He'll be a teenager soon.'
Megan sawed at the tough denim. 'Maybe your brother's happy.'
Chrissie knew that couldn’t be true.
'They fight constantly,’ she said. ‘They survive on welfare or beg our parents for loans they never pay back. She's screwed up his entire life.'
Chrissie barely understood her brother's fucked-up relationship. She ended the pointless conversation by eating the second date. When she'd finished both dates and used her tongue to dislodge every fiber from between her teeth, she decided to start with Megan's phone.
‘I need you to measure the ice again.’
Megan looked at Alex. ‘Alex has to pace it out.’
‘No he doesn’t. You two are the same height. We need to know how much time we have left.’
‘Okay.’
Megan stood and paced out the circumference of the remaining ice.
‘It’s twenty-eight paces,’ she reported back.
She started her phone’s algebra app.
She frowned over her phone. ‘Wait, I must have entered something wrong.’
‘Why? What does it say?’
‘It says we’ve lost seventy percent of the ice. It’s only been four days. Look at the size of it. We can’t have lost seventy percent.’
Chrissie studied the ice. It still looked imposing, but she remembered when it almost reached the ceiling. Also, the melt water now sounded like a torrent running down the drain.
MELT: A Psychological Thriller Page 22
