MELT: A Psychological Thriller (6 page)

BOOK: MELT: A Psychological Thriller
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‘We have enough clothes,’ declared Carl.

'But we'll freeze without our clothes,' said Victoria.

'We'll work quickly,' said Megan.

Carl began unbuttoning his UPS shirt. ‘It’s our only chance. Come on. Everyone. Get your clothes off!’

Megan wrenched open the button on her jeans.

Glen stripped off his bathrobe and began shedding his pajamas. After a second, Alex joined in, throwing his hoodie and shirt to where Carl was twisting and knotting all their clothes together.

Glen had the palest skin Megan had ever seen. Pale and crowded with moles.

'Cancer time-bombs,’ said Glen, touching a mole. ‘Skin cancer runs in my family.’

Megan now understood why Glen was so pale. He wasn’t sick. He was avoiding getting sick. Although he was thin, he was nothing but muscle.

Carl waved at Alex. ‘We need your track pants, Alex. We need everything. Hurry up.'

Alex untied the drawstring and yanked down his track pants.

Everyone stopped what they were doing.

Oh, my God!
thought Megan.

Alex's right leg was mutilated.

'Holy shit,' said Glen, openly staring. 'Were you attacked by a shark?'

Megan tried not to appear repulsed by the glistening pink spider web of scar tissue.

It looks like his leg's been in a blender.

Alex ignored Glen’s question about a shark attack.

'Sorry,' said Glen quickly. 'It’s none of my business.'

Chrissie winced. 'What did that to you, Alex? It doesn't even look healed.'

'It's healed,' said Alex.

'But what happened?' asked Chrissie.

'Mind your own business,' declared Carl, starting work on the rope again.

Alex and Glen both helped Carl.

Megan had never felt so cold in her life. When she knelt to help with the rope, she felt even colder.

'Just wait a second,' said Victoria, pointing at their quickly forming rope. 'This is insane. You can't make decisions that affect us all. We're all trapped together. We should decide as a group.'

'That's true,' said Glen, standing up, shivering, tall and pale and dressed only in his blue cotton boxer shorts. 'Let's vote. Who wants to escape?'

Glen, Carl, Alex and Megan raised their hands.

'We win,' declared Glen. 'Four against two. We're escaping.'

'We all want to escape!' declared Chrissie. ‘But this rope idea is crazy!’

'You're not using our clothes,' declared Victoria, crossing her arms. 'No way.'

Chrissie nodded. 'Your rope isn't long enough. It can’t possibly be long enough.'

Alex and Glen undressed the defiant women with their eyes.

'Don't even
think
about it,' hissed Chrissie. 'I'll tear your balls off and use them for—'

'We’ll have enough,' cut in Carl.

Megan’s bra, underpants and shoes offered practically zero insulation from the cold.

Oh, my God it’s freezing! And Chrissie is right. This rope isn’t long enough without their clothes. Not even close.

‘Shit,’ Glen swore as his knots pulled apart.

Carl frowned over Glen's work. 'Let me do the knots, Glen. You keep twisting the clothes and I'll knot them, okay?'

Glen’s hands were shaking so much from the cold that even twisting the clothes looked difficult.

Chrissie pointed up the ice. ‘Listen to me. This is suicide. None of you can do this. There must be another way.’

‘There’s no other way,’ insisted Carl.

'Who’s going up?' asked Glen.

'I will,' said Alex. 'I'm lightest.’

Carl frowned over the rope. 'You're not the lightest.’

Megan realized who Carl meant. 'I'm lighter than you, Alex.'

'Yeah, but....' Alex motioned up the ice to the vent. 'Can you do that?'

'Can you?' Megan shot straight back.

'I can try.'

'So can I,' said Megan. 'The rope will last longer for me. If the rope breaks, I'll slide down. You'll all catch me, right?'

'Of course,' said Glen. Alex and Carl nodded.

‘Glen's the tallest,’ said Carl. ‘Megan can stand on his shoulders and lean against the ice. I'll throw the rope over the ice and pull her up slowly.'

Carl made it sound easy, but Megan began to have doubts.

Could it really be that easy? Victoria and Chrissie don't think so.

Carl was still talking. 'Megan, you'll just need to hold on tight. Once the phone's in the shaft, we'll lower you down.'

‘How do I put the phone in the shaft?’

'My phone will fit through the vent,’ replied Alex.

Megan nodded.

The immediacy
of what she was about to do made her feel dazed, as though some part of her brain couldn't comprehend that she'd agreed to it.

'The rope is ready,' said Carl.

Glen's pale skin rippled with goose bumps. 'Are you ready for this, Megan?'

Am I?
thought Megan.
Can I really do this?

Making the rope was her idea. Using the ceiling vent was her idea. These guys thought she offered their best chance. What choice did she have?

'I'm ready,' she said, rubbing her own goose-bumpy arms. 'Let's hurry before I freeze.'

Alex gave Megan his phone. 'It's sending our SOS every five minutes.'

Megan pushed the phone down her bra. She’d need both hands for the rope.

Glen braced his hands on the ice.

'Can you hold my weight?'

Glen bent his knees. 'I'm stronger than I look. Don’t worry. I’m ready.'

Megan grasped his shoulders and rested her shoe on his knee. 'Won't my shoes hurt your shoulders?'

'Don't worry about it,' replied Glen. 'Just hurry.'

There's no backing out now.

'Okay, here I go,' she said.

Megan practically slithered up Glen's back. It was the only way. Her shoe wrenched down his boxer shorts.

'Don't worry!' he hissed. 'Just get up there! Help her, Alex!'

'I'm...trying,' groaned Alex.

Megan paused with her left sneaker on Glen's left shoulder, her left hand cupping his forehead, and her own forehead pressed against the ice for balance. Alex supported her right leg, ready to give her a boost into a standing position.

Here comes the tricky part.

She needed to stand straight up on Glen's shoulders. 'Alex, grab my legs when I stand up, okay?’

'I'm ready.'

'I'll grab your knees,' said Glen.

Here goes
.

Megan pushed herself up, sliding her forehead up the ice. Alex pushed from below. Her right shoe found Glen's right shoulder and Megan stood straight up.

I'm UP!

Alex grabbed her calves.

Glen grabbed her knees.

Megan couldn't grab anything.

 Her hands slid uselessly over the ice. Only Alex, Glen, and her own sense of balance kept her upright.

'Don't let go,' she cried. ‘It’s slippery. I need the rope!’

‘Throw the rope!’ yelled Alex.

'Here it comes!' Carl called.

Megan looked up, expecting to see their makeshift rope flop over the ice.

Instead, a heavy black boot sailed over the ice.

That’s Ericsson's boot.

Carl had weighted the rope with the boot. The heavy boot bounced twice before dragging the rope toward her.

Megan hadn't even considered how they'd get the rope over the ice.

What else haven't I thought of? Probably lots of things!

She’d been stupid to think she could do this. Chrissie was right. It was a stupid plan. A suicidal plan. Why had it taken her until now to realize?

'I can't do this!' she yelled to everyone.

'What?' called Carl.

'The rope is too short!' Alex yelled back. 'She can't reach it!'

Megan looked up. The boot hung about five feet out of reach.
The rope is too short! Thank God!

Guilty relief flooded through her. She didn't have to do it now. Their rope was too short.

'That's all we have,' Carl called back.

Before Megan could protest, Alex released her calves and dashed off around the ice.

'I'm coming down,' said Megan. 'How should we do this?'

'No, stay up there. I'm still okay.'

'My hands are freezing and the rope's too short,' said Megan. 'I'm coming down, Glen.'

Carl interrupted Glen’s reply.

'Try now!' Carl called.

Try what?

The boot struck Megan’s head. She looked up. The rope was practically right in her face.

Oh, NO! They made it longer. How could they do that?

'How's that?' called Carl.

Megan couldn't reply because she was panicking.

'Perfect!' yelled Glen. 'She's got it!'

Perfect? They still think I'm doing this?

Carl called, ‘Ready, Megan?'

Megan looked between her knees. 'I'm scared, Glen.'

Without looking up, Glen said, 'You won't get hurt. If the rope breaks, you'll just slide down to me.'

Megan had a desperate idea.

She gripped the rope tightly. With something to hold, she felt less out of control. Now just her elbows, stomach and knees touched the ice.

'OK,' she called out. ‘Pull slowly!’

When they start pulling, I'll let go and say my hands were too numb to hold on. Then someone braver than me can—

Megan never finished that thought.

Her arms nearly jolted from their sockets.

She shot up the ice like a human rocket.

BOOK: MELT: A Psychological Thriller
9.77Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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