He'd recognize his older brother’s voice anywhere. Sometimes he heard inflections of it when his own sons spoke.
Carl spoke so quickly that Joshua had to listen to the entire message three times before he understood everything Carl said.
He'd never heard Carl sound scared before.
Never.
Not even when he was in jail.
Whatever they were doing to him must have been terrible.
Joshua took off his headphones and rested his forehead on his hands. He remembered how as a child he had worshipped Carl. Four years older, Carl always seemed to be everything Joshua wanted to be. Josh idolized him. Despite the age difference, they had been close as children, and even as teenagers until Carl's moral compass seemed to shift.
Rather than drag Joshua into trouble, Carl had shut him out.
Two years after that, Carl was in jail.
Joshua remembered their lives as children. They'd done everything together. Josh had imagined Carl had just been tolerating his younger brother tagging along, but Carl's message said otherwise.
His message said they were the best days of Carl's life.
Joshua listened to that part of the message again, wishing he could tell Carl that he felt the same.
A loud noise jolted Josh from his memories.
The squeaky garage door was lifting.
They’re home already?
He checked his watch. He'd been sitting and thinking for over an hour.
As his wife hustled everyone inside, Joshua pulled down the attic stepladder.
In the attic he found the boxes they hadn't bothered unpacking after the last move.
Josh found what he wanted and called everyone into the lounge room.
He sat and opened the photo album on his lap. ‘Come on everyone. Come and sit down.'
'What is it?' asked Nate, his youngest son, climbing up beside Joshua.
'Photos of me, back when I was your age, and even younger.'
His oldest daughter, Kylie, leant over the couch. 'We've never seen these photos. Where were they?'
'Just packed away.'
'Who's that?' pointed Nate.
'That's my older brother. Your uncle, Carl. I want to tell you about him. These photos will help.’
'Why?' asked Kylie. 'You never talk about him.'
Joshua looked at a photo of he and Carl armed with large fishing rods and larger smiles.
'Well,' started Joshua, 'because if I don't tell you about him, then I wouldn't be telling you about some of the best times of my life.'
#
Alex would never have thought that being in hospital could feel so good.
This feels like the softest bed in the world.
It had a pillow, a blanket, and was a hell of a lot more comfortable than sleeping on solid steel. He'd forgotten what it felt like to sleep on something soft.
Yesterday the surgeons had finished with his hand. He hadn't seen it yet.
It certainly couldn't look any worse than it had before.
His acid wounds had been treated and barely bothered him now. In a day or two he could go home.
Hopefully tomorrow.
Back to normal civilization.
He'd never again take a meal for granted. Or air-conditioning. Or soap. Or a flushing toilet. Or a light switch. Or...God...he could go on forever.
Best of all, he stood fairly good odds of surviving the day without falling victim to some diabolical trap.
What more could a person ask for?
Even the hospital food was good. But then, almost anything was better than beetles in ballbags.
He checked the clock and braced himself for visiting hours. Any second now his aunties, uncles and cousins would fill the room again. His Mom always came in first.
As usual, she tip-toed around the corner and then rushed in when she saw him awake. She hugged him carefully.
'How do you feel? How's your hand?'
'It's fine,' replied Alex, glancing around his mother. 'Where is everyone?'
'They're downstairs. I asked them to wait.'
Alex propped himself up. 'Why?'
His mother stepped aside.
A beautiful young woman walked in. 'Because of me.'
Alex just starred at her, speechless.
Megan's hair had been cut short to hide the area burnt by acid. The dark pits under her eyes had gone. Most startling was her smile. She had a really big, beautiful smile. Had he not survived, Alex never would have known.
'I'll refill your water,' said his mother, an obvious excuse to leave. 'Do you want ice?'
Alex just raised his eyebrow at her.
'Oh, of course not. You'll never want to see ice ever again, I suppose.'
Megan wore a simple blue dress, and as she came over, Alex could hardly believe this was the same person he'd been chained to. She gently took his hand.
'It's really me,' she said, reading his mind, turning her head to show the permanently missing section of her ear.
'I know,' said Alex. 'You just look different.'
'So do you,' Megan shot back. 'You look clean.'
Alex noticed the bandage on Megan's left hand where she'd forced it through the shackle. Her acid burns looked much like his, but thankfully she had fewer.
'How's your hand?' he asked.
'How's my hand? How is your hand, more like it?'
Alex lifted his bandaged limb. 'Not sure yet. The surgeons sounded happy.'
Megan sat on the bed beside him. 'How does sleeping in a real bed feel?'
'Wonderful. I thought you weren't coming for another week. Did I get the dates wrong?'
Megan shook her head. 'No. I couldn't wait. I started to wonder if I'd just made you up in my head to keep myself sane.'
Alex knew exactly what she meant.
He touched her watch. The watch Glen had given her. 'I miss him.'
'Me too,' said Megan. 'I wrote to his sister. Perhaps when you're better we can go and see her.'
Alex thought for a moment. 'Did everyone get their goodbye messages from your phone?'
'I think so,' replied Megan. 'Did your Mom hear yours?'
Alex nodded. 'What about your Dad?'
'I heard it,' said someone from the doorway.
Alex recognized the tall man standing in the doorway.
Megan turned. 'This is my Dad.'
'I know,' said Alex. 'From your photos.'
Megan's father stepped into the room. He seemed lost for words, but only for a moment. 'I'm sorry for what you went through, Alex. But I'm glad you were there to watch over my daughter when I couldn't be. Megan told me everything you did for her.'
Alex looked back at Megan. 'She saved me. She's the hero.'
Megan hugged Alex.
When she straightened, her eyes were glistening.
She squeezed his hand and then gently pushed some hair from his eyes.
'We're a team. We look out for each other, right?'
Alex nodded. Life on the outside was just getting better and better.
Thanks for reading my book!
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Acknowledgements
A very special thanks goes to those generous people who volunteered their time and skills to test read this novel. Special thanks to Margaret Brown from Texas, and also Sandra Barrios, Paul Resnikoff, Steve Wilson, Steve Owen, Bobbie Henry, Lisa Putman, Rob Molina, and Mike Lee.
I know this novel would be far less entertaining without their help.
MELT is my third novel.
My first novel is titled FAST, and is available at AMAZON by CLICKING HERE
Likewise, PLAZA, my second novel, can be found HERE
Special thanks to Alexa
nder Ovchinnikov, (Creative Director for Milk Creative Agency) for permitting me to freely use his evocative artwork on my title page.
© Shane M Brown 2013
All rights reserved
MELT: A Psychological Thriller Page 31
