MELT: A Psychological Thriller (14 page)

'I'm still going to smoke these,' yelled Chrissie from the floor. 'Touch me again and I'll put them out on your FACE!'

Glen's face already stung. He imagined the hand-shaped welt glowing on his cheek. With satisfaction, he stepped on Chrissie's lit cigarette, grinding it under his slipper.

'I was finished with it anyway,' she spat.

'Yes, you were,' said Glen.

'Come on, Glen,' said Alex. 'The vent's replacing the air. We need to start moving. My hands are already numb.’

Glen let Alex draw him away.

Megan hadn't moved, and Glen suddenly wondered:
How much of that did she record?

Chapter Ten

 

Glen was suspicious when Carl called a break.

Walking endless laps sucked, but feeling your body warmth sucked away felt worse. If walking kept them alive, Glen would walk in his sleep.

Even 'stopping' meant shuffling constantly on the spot.

'We can't start fighting with each other,' said Carl.

Glen and Chrissie ignored each other.

‘Let's keep things in perspective,’ said Carl. ‘The smoke hasn't lingered. If Chrissie gives us some warning, maybe it's not a big deal if she smokes.'

Everyone looked at Glen.

'As long as my asthma doesn't start,' he conceded, wanting to get moving again.

'She's only got a few smokes anyway,' said Carl.

Carl waited, perhaps giving Glen and Chrissie a chance to apologize.

Glen felt fine the way things were.

Chrissie apparently felt likewise.

'I'm done walking,' announced Alex, opening his pocket knife. 'I'll dig for a while. This thing looks close to the surface.'

He stabbed into the ice over a dark shape.

I hope it's edible
, Glen thought.
I'm starving. What's that?

Something moved through his peripheral vision. Something was sliding down the ice.
It wasn't as large as the stone calendar, but large enough to give Ericsson some company.

The tallest of them, only Glen had spotted it.

The person underneath it was too preoccupied.

'Watch out!' yelled Glen.

Everyone looked at Glen, then at Alex.

Alex looked up, too late, toward a huge black chunk of death racing for his head.

 

 

#

 

 

Glen dived at Alex.

It looked too late, but adrenaline disagreed.

Spotting the danger, Alex jerked his head away. His body couldn't react in time. His sternum and vital organs still occupied the object's pulverizing path.

Glen knew this while flying through the air.

He hit Alex stiff-armed in the left shoulder.

Alex jolted sideways.

Adrenaline beat gravity.

The object passed so close that Alex seemed to flow around its deadly path like smoke. His sneakers were barely a hair's breadth clear when the object
THUDDED
into the floor with life-ending force.

It didn't bounce.

Glen's face landed six inches from the thing. He could almost smell it.

He
could
smell it.

It smelt like wet batteries and burnt wire.

A padlock. It’s a giant black padlock.

'Holy crap,' yelled Carl, rushing to help Alex. 'That almost crushed you.'

Alex nodded shakily. 'I didn't even see it. Where'd it come from?'

'Right above you,' pointed Megan. 'I think vibrations from your knife made it fall.'

Megan helped Glen to his feet. 'You okay?'

‘I’m fine.'

'Did you hear it coming?' she asked.

'No. I just glimpsed it.'

'Good reactions,' said Megan.

'Or you've got nine lives,' Victoria told Alex.

Alex looked at the lock. 'Then I owe Glen two of them. One for the bomb and one for this.'

Carl pointed from the lock to where Alex was digging. 'What are the chances of that?'

‘The chances of what?' asked Chrissie.

Glen knew what he meant.

'It wasn't an accident,’ said Victoria. ‘It was a trap. I told you not to touch the ice. Do you believe me now?’

‘You think it was
meant
to hit someone?’ asked Megan.

‘Obviously,’ insisted Victoria.

'Now we're getting paranoid,' said Chrissie. 'We have enough to worry about. We don't need to invent problems.’

Glen felt too cold to argue. He wanted a closer look at the lock.

‘I’m warning you,’ said Victoria. ‘Interfering with that ice is suicide. It will kill you.’

Megan began taking photos.

No one seemed to be listening to Victoria.

'There's writing on the lock,' Megan said. 'But not in English.'

Pure black, the huge square padlock dwarfed Glen’s laptop in size. The shackle alone was thicker than Carl’s wrist. Glen traced the strange lettering.

‘What language is this?’

'Can anyone read that?' asked Carl.

Glen wasn't surprised they couldn't.

'Oh, wait a second,' said Megan. 'I think my phone can.'

She began tapping through apps. 'I downloaded this app on vacation. It interprets foreign road signs. You take a picture of the sign and it translates the words into English.'

'Will it work on this?' asked Alex.

'Why not?' said Megan. 'They're all just words.'

She waved Glen back. 'You're blocking the light.'

Megan leaned close to take the picture.

'It's working,' she said.

'What's it say?' asked Alex.

'Hold on. Okay, here it is.'

Megan looked up suspiciously from her phone. 'I think it made a mistake.'

'Why?' asked Carl.

Megan showed him the phone.

'Shit, Glen, get away from it,' Carl warned. 'Everyone get back.'

How can this be dangerous now?
thought Glen.
It can't fall any further.

Carl sounded deadly serious, so Glen retreated.

Alex read the phone's screen. 'Holy shit!'

'What's it say?' asked Glen.

'Read for yourself,' pointed Alex.

Glen did. Megan’s phone had translated three words:

 

CHERNOBYL NUCLEAR FACILITY

 

 

#

 

 

Megan pointed urgently around the ice. 'What are we supposed to do with
that
?'

'Is it still radioactive?' asked Chrissie, sounding close to panic.

'We’ll know soon enough,' replied Carl.

Chrissie’s eyes widened. 'You mean radiation sickness?'

Carl nodded gravely.

‘Oh, God no!’ cried Victoria. ‘Not that.’

'What can we do?' asked Megan. 'We must be able to do something. If it’s radioactive, that means it’s poisoning us right now.'

'We bury it,' said Glen. 'At Chernobyl they buried everything in a big cement sarcophagus. We'll do the same. We'll bury it under the ice with Ericsson.'

'With just one knife?' asked Carl.

‘We’ll never do it fast enough,’ said Chrissie. ‘It’s going to kill us! It’s killing us right now!’

Victoria covered her face with both hands. ‘Radiation poisoning is the worst way to die. The bomb would have been better.’

'We need more tools,' said Alex.

Glen scanned the chamber for anything tool-like. 'The tip of Megan's umbrella?'

'Plastic,' said Megan.

'Come on people, think,' said Carl. 'Every minute we're accumulating radiation. Is there anything we can possibly use as a tool?'

'Pieces of the bomb?' suggested Alex. 'Those tailfins could chip ice.'

'Are you insane?' said Victoria. 'Why not just detonate it now and save us the bother?'

'They're welded on,' said Carl.

Megan pointed at Victoria. 'Wait, Victoria. Last night I felt something hard in your apron. It was poking me, remember?
What was that?'

Victoria frowned. 'Just my hip.'

Megan shook her head. 'No, it wasn't your hip. Have you checked your apron pocket?'

'Of course.'

‘Well check again!’ Carl yelled. ‘We are all dying right now, Victoria. Hurry!’

'I don't need to,' answered Victoria, suddenly flustered.

She's got something
, realized Glen.
She's hiding something in her apron
.

Carl's voice became threatening. 'Victoria, if you have a tool, we need it.'

The group surrounded Victoria.

'I haven't got anything,' she shrieked, turning like a cornered animal. 'I've checked my pocket a dozen times.'

'Just show us then,' said Megan.

Chrissie reached for Victoria's apron. 'You're lying. Is it food? Have you got food?'

'Get away from me!' Victoria swatted away Chrissie's hand. 'How dare you! What gives you the right?'

'Take off the apron,' ordered Carl.

Screw this
, thought Glen.
I'm not dying from radiation sickness for anyone. I'll rip that apron right off her if I have to.

From behind Victoria, Glen spotted an easier option.

Slipper quiet, he reached under Victoria's arm and thrust his hand into her apron pocket.

I've got something!

Victoria screamed, jerking away.

Glen lost his grip, but not before he'd turned Victoria's pocket inside-out.

A white sunhat tumbled to the floor.

Nothing more.

But I felt something hard
, thought Glen.

Megan kicked the hat.

Victoria's secrets tumbled from the hat and scattered across the floor.

'Gardening shears,' pointed Alex.

'And gloves,' said Megan angrily. 'You had gloves this whole time!'