MELT: A Psychological Thriller

by Shane M Brown

  Michael glanced at the paintings. 'You're not going to fight me on this?'

  Chrissie released a long sigh. 'I'm too tired to argue anymore, Michael, but I'd like to spend the morning with Maddie. Just the two of us. I'll drive her up to the beach after lunch. We can talk then. No fighting.'

  Michael looked at the kite paintings.

  Thank God she painted something I could recognize for a change, thought Chrissie.

  'Let me keep this promise to her,' said Chrissie. 'She obviously wants to go.'

  Michael looked reluctant. 'You won't mention anything to her? I don't want her upset.'

  Chrissie shook her head. ‘I promise.’

  Michael nodded. He already had his car keys. 'Make sure she's at the beach by lunch.'

  Chrissie walked behind him to his car.

  'One question, Michael.'

  He paused with the car door open.

  'Is there any way we can fix this?'

  'I don't know? Can you?'

  Michael left without waiting for an answer. Words weren't good enough for him anymore. He expected action. He expected her to change without any compromise on his part.

  Well, she would fix it.

  She would teach him a lesson.

  A lesson about contractual obligations. Marriage was a contract. Having a child was a contract. And when she agreed to have his child, he was signing a contract for life.

  She'd earned Michael. He couldn't just walk away from his debt.

  Chrissie sat and finished her wine, planning her next two hours carefully.

  Well, it has to be done.

  In her bathroom she counted the valium tablets into her palm.

  That looks about enough.

  She crushed the tablets into her empty wine glass.

  Now for the mixer. Strawberry benadryl? No. Orange paracetamol? That sounds all right.

  She added enough to make a paste, then added tap water, swirling it with her finger.

  Doesn't look too bad.

  Maddie was fast asleep. Chrissie sat on her bed and stroked her daughter’s hair until she sat up.

  She rubbed her little eyes. 'Where’s Daddy?'

  'Here, Daddy needs you to drink this.'

  Maddie had trouble with the wine glass, so Chrissie helped.

  Maddie only drank half.

  'All of it, Maddie.'

  'But it's yucky.'

  'Drink it anyway. It's medicine.'

  'I don't want to. It's yucky.'

  Chrissie stroked her daughter's hair. 'Daddy said he won't take you to the beach if you don't finish this.'

  Maddie obeyed this time, pulling a face as the final sediments went down.

  'Now get up and come downstairs, sweetheart.'

  'Why?'

  'Because you're sick. We're going to the hospital.'

  Maddie only made it halfway down the stairs. She still lay awkwardly on the stairs when the ambulance arrived.

  Chrissie was crying so much she surprised herself. She cried in the ambulance all the way to hospital, while they were treating Maddie, and even when she was talking to the doctors and police.

  It was exhausting.

  When Maddie's toxicology report returned, it supported Chrissie's allegation that Michael had been giving Maddie dangerous doses of valium to make her sleep at night.

  The police found Michael at the beach house. After questioning, the police advised Chrissie they had insufficient evidence for a conviction, but enough to keep Maddie safe.

  The court granted Chrissie full custody.

  Michael was left with a photo in his wallet and a restraining order.

  But he'd learned an invaluable lesson.

  Chrissie judged that missing six months of his daughter's life was a suitable punishment. After six months, she'd forgive him for letting Maddie find the Valium. She'd take him back if he agreed to never separate their family again.

  But she’d underestimated him.

  Michael compared the police toxicology report against the hospital's records. Combined, the reports showed the high drug levels in Maddie's hospital blood-work meant that either parent could have given her the drug.

  The appeal date was set.

  An appeal that Chrissie was going to miss.

  Michael would get Maddie, and everything Chrissie had ever worked for.

  The injustice of it burned Chrissie more than the acid on her toes.

  Chrissie searched her cargo pockets.

  Where is that stupid thing? Ah, got it.

  She held the paper above her lighter.

  ZICK...ZICK...ZICK.

  'Is it that bad?' asked Alex.

  ZICK. The lighter ignited.

  The flame spread up the paper.

  ‘You'll never know.'

  #

  Chrissie squatted behind the umbrella with the pistol ready.

  She felt vulnerable.

  If they planned to overpower her, this would be the logical time.

  She listened for the chain. Satisfied, she relaxed. The smell near the drain was putrid.

  I can still smell those corpses. They’re getting worse every hour.

  Finished, she tossed aside the cargo pants. They were too hot.

  Her skirt now felt several sizes too large.

  How much weight have I lost?

  She tightened her belt, listening for Alex and Megan.

  'We need a break,' called Megan. 'We've worked all night.’

  'It's too hot to keep going,' called Alex.

  Chrissie dried her hands on her skirt.

  'You can't stop,' she answered, limping back. 'We need that chest.'

  'It's melting out anyway,' said Alex. 'A few hours rest won't matter.'

  Chrissie waved at the drain. 'Meanwhile we're losing water. Listen how fast it's running away.'

  Sweat stained Megan’s bra. Her burns looked like infected needle marks. Wearing just cut-off denim shorts and a bra, she looked like a trailer park junkie.

  Just look at you now, thought Chrissie.

  'I can barely lift my arms,' begged Megan.

  Chrissie pointed at the chest. ‘You nearly have it out.’

  'Just two hours rest,' asked Alex. 'Then we'll get it out. I promise.'

  Chrissie noticed blood under Alex's shackle. More blood dripped off his index finger.

  He's too exhausted to even notice.

  Chrissie pointed. 'Rest over there. Don't get too comfortable.'

  Megan touched her shackle. 'Could we swap these to our ankles? Or even just change hands?'

  Chrissie raised an eyebrow. 'You must really be tired.'

  'She dropped the key down the drain,' Alex reminded Megan.

  'Oh,' said Megan. 'I forgot.'

  'Come on,' said Alex. 'Let's lie down.'

  'Leave the picks,' Chrissie instructed.

  Both icepicks hit the floor.

  Chrissie heard Alex telling Megan how to lie so the cuff hurt less. After that, they didn't talk.

  Chrissie checked her watch. 11:03 am. No wonder it feels like an oven in here.

  She'd let them rest through the scorching midday heat, but not a second longer.

  At least they could rest.

  She couldn't risk falling asleep.

  They'd be waiting.

  They'd either shoot her or cut her throat. At best, she'd wake up to find herself the slave.

  Instead, she closed her eyes and listened to the melt water.

  What is inside that chest?

  If the chest was trapped, then today was the last day of Alex's life.

  But what if the chest contains something even better than food?

  Chrissie prayed that inside the chest was some way to communicate with their captors. Some way to end the torment and be set free.

  This could be the end. Opening that chest could be the end of this nightmare for me.

  Chrissie opened her eyes every few minutes so she wouldn't drift off to sleep.

  Every few minutes she stared at the chest.<
br />
  Did that just move?

  She limped over and pushed it. The chest wobbled.

  It's melting loose already.

  'Wake up,' she yelled. 'Come on. Get up. It's moving.'

  Megan wearily propped herself up on one elbow. 'It hasn't even been an hour.'

  'I don't care. The chest is falling out. Get up and finish it. You can rest after that. Come on! Up! Up! Up!'

  'Come on,' said Alex, helping Megan rise.

  Chrissie stood back as Megan wobbled the chest.

  'She's right,’ said Megan. ‘It's loose.'

  'We need to pull it,' Alex said.

  'Let's throw the chain over it,' said Megan. 'We can pull the chain.'

  'Yes, do that,' Chrissie said excitedly. 'That's good.'

  Alex shook his head. ‘We can't pull it toward ourselves. Somebody will get a broken leg.’

  'I said DO IT!' yelled Chrissie.

  Alex nodded. He and Megan pushed their chain over the chest.

  'Brace your shoulder on the ice,' Alex instructed. 'Get ready to dodge if the chest falls toward you.'

  Megan nodded.

  'Okay,' said Chrissie, taking charge. 'On the count of three. One. Two. Three.'

  Chrissie was so excited, she forgot to step back herself.

  Megan and Alex pulled.

  The chest burst from the ice and careened toward her. It missed Alex and Megan entirely, but Chrissie stood squarely in its path. She jumped away, but not quickly enough. The rolling, bouncing chest clipped her calf in midair. The glancing blow tangled her legs, spinning her off-balance as she leapt.

  She managed to roll as she landed, sparing herself from serious injury.

  My gun.

  She looked down. Her hand still gripped the pistol. It might well have been glued to her fingers.

  She quickly checked the others.

  They looked shocked. Neither had the initiative to take advantage of her compromised situation.

  She sat up and rubbed her throbbing calf muscle. That was too close. Alex's prediction of a broken leg almost came true.

  Alex and Megan stared at the chest.

  They both looked mesmerized.

  Those two don't usually pull such brain dead expressions.

  'Holy crap,' said Alex.

  'Is that real?’ asked Megan.

  Chrissie painfully found her feet and limped around the chest so she could see the front.

  Oh, now I get it.

  On the front of the chest, in large gold letters was written:

  PROPERTY OF THE RMS TITANIC

  Oceanic Steam Navigation Company

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  'It’s locked.' Megan pointed at the ancient-looking padlock.

  Two more clasps secured the lid, but neither looked lockable.

  'Is it a trap?' Alex cautiously approached the chest.

  Megan shrugged. 'We're following Chrissie's rules now.'

  Chrissie tried to recall her high school history lessons. Instead, scenes from the Titanic movie with Leonardo DiCaprio popped into her head.

  'When did the Titanic sink?' asked Alex.

  '1911 or 1912, I think.’

  'You think?' asked Chrissie.

  'I'm not sure,' said Megan angrily. 'You went to school too, didn't you?'

  Alex pointed at the lid. 'Look at this.'

  Screwed to the lid was an engraved metal plate. Chrissie scraped it clean with the knife.

  Infirmary Pharmaceuticals

  RMS Titanic, Olympic Class

  Oceanic Steam Navigation Company

  December 4th, 1911

  'It's a medicine chest,' said Alex.

  Megan rubbed ice over her neck. 'Can it really be from the Titanic?'

  'It probably floated,' said Alex.

  'Open it,' ordered Chrissie.

  Megan tapped the padlock lightly with her orange shoe.

  'I know,' yelled Chrissie. 'Find a way to open the lock!'

  Alex pointed at Chrissie's pistol. 'You can shoot it off.'

  Shoot off the lock? thought Chrissie. With only two bullets left?

  'You're trying to waste my bullets.’

  'One bullet will open it. That lock's ancient.'

  People shoot locks off in movies, thought Chrissie. Does that work in real life?

  ‘Why do you want it open?’ asked Chrissie suspiciously. ‘You think everything’s a trap.’

  Alex turned to show the acid burns streaking his back. He pointed at the engraved metal plate. 'That says there are pharmaceutical supplies inside. I need pain killers. We all do.'

  Chrissie couldn't argue with that. Her foot felt like she'd stood in a fire. Every hour the pain seemed to grow worse. She suspected it was infected.

  But I need both bullets.

  If the last person alive wins, she'd need one bullet to kill Alex and one bullet to kill Megan.

  Unless there's another way.

  Her hand dropped to the folding knife clipped to her skirt. Could I stab Alex after he opens the chest? And then if Megan can't free us by deciphering the artifacts, I can shoot her and be the last person standing if that's the way to win.

  Chrissie went over the plan again in her mind.

  'What are you thinking?' asked Megan.

  'Shut up,' snapped Chrissie.

  This is the only way. Do it now before they realize.

  Chrissie put the pistol muzzle against the padlock.

  Step one, shoot off the lock.

  'Cover your ears,' Megan told Alex.

  Their chain rattled.

  Chrissie's hand shook. Once she pulled the trigger, she'd be committed to the plan.

  It’s me or them.

  She squeezed the trigger.

  BANG!

  The sound raped her ears, ramming further into her head than any noise had a right to penetrate.

  The gun jerked.

  The lock jumped.

  Chrissie knelt and tugged the lock.

  It didn't open.

  She tugged harder.

  It won't open.

  Where before hung an old padlock, now hung an old padlock with a bullet wound.

  It didn't work. The chest is still locked, but now I've wasted a bullet.

  I've only got one bullet left.

  Chrissie thumped the chest three times. 'Fuck...fuck...FUCK!'

  #

  Chrissie glared at the lock.

  This is just an obstacle. It won't stop me. I just need a way to break this lock.

  The chain rattled behind her. Alex glanced at the lock. 'Oh, that's a shame.'

  Chrissie pointed at Megan. 'Find a heavy artifact and start pounding that lock open.'

  Megan began to move, but the chain halted her.

  Alex didn’t move.

  He waved at the chest.

  'We're not opening that, Chrissie.'

  Chrissie looked down at her pistol. He knew a bullet wouldn't open the lock. He didn't want painkillers. He tricked me into wasting a bullet. Well, I won't be wasting the next one. I should just shoot him now.

  Megan obviously read body language better than Alex. She grabbed Alex's unshackled wrist. 'Quick, Alex. Do what she says.'

  Alex didn’t move. ‘I've had enough. She's planning to murder us both anyway. Fuck her. She’s worse than the people who put us in here.’

  'Not now,' Megan insisted. ‘Please, Alex.'

  Alex shook his head. ‘I’m finished being her slave. Her rules are getting us killed.’

  All Chrissie's pain and anger transformed into white hot fury at Alex. Her fury had a will of its own. It demanded she put the gun in Alex's mouth and watch his brains fountain from his head like red fireworks.

  So be it, she thought. Alex gets the bullet. Megan gets the knife.

  Chrissie needed to get closer for a clean shot.

  She stepped toward Alex and asked, 'But you'll follow Megan's rules?'

  Alex lifted his acid-pitted arm. 'Look at us? The acid nearly scalped Megan. Half of your foot doesn'
t even have skin. If acid toenail polish isn't a good enough reason to follow the rules, then you're brain dead.'

  'Alex!' Megan pleaded.

  Alex whispered something to Megan.

  Chrissie couldn't hear it.

  Megan looked surprised.

  After a moment, Megan nodded.

  He just said goodbye, realized Chrissie. He's sacrificing himself. He thinks he's saving her by using up my last bullet on himself. He doesn't think I'll use the knife on Megan. He's the brain dead one. He's going to make this easy for me.

  Chrissie took another step forward.

  'And Megan makes the rules?'

  'No, they make the rules.' Alex pointed upward, toward their invisible tormentors. 'Only Megan bothered to read the instructions.'

  Chrissie couldn't miss now. That arrogant teenage face was begging for a bullet.

  She was close enough to read his tag.

  She lifted the pistol.

  The barrel was inches from his forehead.

  'Alexander Atkinson, just so you know, after I blow your brains out, I'm leaving your corpse chained to Megan.'

  Alex nodded. 'You're broken, Chrissie. You were broken long before we met you.'

  Chrissie shrugged and shot Alex in the face.

  At point blank range Chrissie had no idea what a bullet could do to a human head.

  Would she see a single trickle of blood, or an explosion like an egg in a microwave? Would his brains fly out the back or would the bullet disappear like a magic trick?

  None of the above.

  The effect was so horrible, she didn't hear the gunshot. She didn't even feel the pistol jerk in her hand.

  Chrissie lowered the pistol and looked in horror at what her bullet had done to Alex's face.

  ALEX

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Alex smiled.

  He smiled at Chrissie’s expression of pure shock.

  With tremendous satisfaction, he said, 'That’s a five round revolver, you stupid psycho bitch.'

  Alex had never punched anyone in his life.

  As it happened, he wouldn't be starting now.

  Megan's fist pounded Chrissie's face.

  Chrissie collapsed backward, hitting the floor with bone-breaking force.

  Megan attacked again.

  Before Chrissie even landed, Megan dived on her. She landed right on Chrissie, pinning down her chest and one arm. Pulled by the chain, Alex willingly fell into the fight. He slammed his body weight onto Chrissie's right side, pinning her other arm.