Read Online MELT: A Psychological Thriller by Shane M Brown - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Shane M Brown
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supposed to be watching the bomb.
Megan and Victoria froze, too close now to backtrack.
'What's she doing?' whispered Megan, but Victoria ignored her.
Chrissie lifted Ericsson's right leg and jerked his hips from the wall.
She's moving his corpse .
Still holding Ericsson’s leg, Chrissie turned and looked at them. 'Well?'
'Well, what?' asked Megan.
'Well, why are you just standing there? Either help or keep walking.'
'What are you even doing?'
Chrissie waved from Ericsson to the ice. ‘Are you blind and stupid?’
What am I missing?
Megan approached a few steps. Oh, of course!
Megan remembered falling on Glen. He'd felt like a bony trampoline. Ericsson’s solid frame would make a perfect human trampoline for when the bomb fell.
‘You're putting Ericsson under the bomb. Will it work?'
'Not if he’s all the way over here,' Chrissie shot back.
Megan glanced back at Victoria.
'Hurry up,’ hissed Victoria. ‘Help her.'
Megan braced herself for gore, but Chrissie had concealed Ericsson's head with his shirt.
'What's that?'
'A nicotine patch,’ answered Chrissie. ‘An old one. Lazy prick never took it off.'
Megan shouldn't have asked. The patch on Ericsson’s shoulder made him a real person again.
'I'll get the others,' said Megan.
Chrissie snatched her arm.
'Don't you dare,' she hissed. ‘We don't need their permission.'
Megan yanked her arm free. 'I meant their help , not their permission .'
'It's the same thing now,' said Victoria. ‘They're making enough decisions already.’
‘They’re making the wrong decisions,’ said Chrissie. 'They didn't even put Ericsson against the ice. They'd let him rot. Have you ever stopped in traffic near road kill, Megan? It makes you almost vomit in your lap. Well, we've got two hundred pounds of human road kill in our bedroom now.'
Two hundred pounds of rotting Ericsson , thought Megan. Locked in here with us.
'We need to bury him in ice,' said Megan. 'Not just move
him.'
Chrissie nodded. 'Help me then.'
A better corpse-moving technique occurred to Megan.
'You're doing it wrong,’ she said. ‘When I did first-aid training they taught us how to roll an unconscious person into the recovery position. Let’s roll him. '
Chrissie waved at Ericsson. 'Go ahead.'
Megan knelt and grasped Ericsson's leg.
She snatched her hand back.
He feels like plastic. Cold disgusting plastic.
'Not that easy, is it?' said Chrissie.
Megan's self-control wavered. Why are they leaving a corpse in here with us? I shouldn't have to do this. No one should have to do this.
An acid-hot tear scorched down Megan's cheek and dripped off her chin.
'Jesus Christ,' complained Chrissie. 'Are you crying now, Megan?'
Am I? thought Megan. Is this too much for me?
'No,' she said. ‘I just need something to cover my hands. Can I use your apron, Victoria?'
'Don't be disgusting,' said Victoria. 'He won’t bite you. Just hurry up and do it.'
Megan glared at Victoria. While you do nothing, as usual, you nasty old witch .
'Get ready to pull his shoulder,' said Megan.
Megan bent Ericsson's knee into a lever.
'Pull now, Chrissie.'
Both women pulled.
Ericsson's body flopped over and whumped onto its front.
And farted.
Braaaaaat!
'Oh, my God!' shrieked Megan, scrambling backward until her back hit the ice.
Both women stared at the body, waiting for any further sign of life.
Ericsson farted again.
Long and loud.
Brraaaaaattttt....taaat...tat...tat.
'He's dead,' said Victoria. 'It's just the gas escaping.'
'Still think your way is better?' asked Chrissie. 'He wasn't doing thatwhen I was moving him.'
'He's probably empty now,' said Victoria.
Then the smell hit.
Megan covered her nose too late. She dry-wretched, gagged, and then barely managed not to vomit in her pullover.
Dead man's fart!
'Let's just finish this,' said Chrissie, glancing sideways at the bomb.
They did. One roll at a time. Thankfully Ericsson had nothing more to say on the matter.
Breathless, they
Megan and Victoria froze, too close now to backtrack.
'What's she doing?' whispered Megan, but Victoria ignored her.
Chrissie lifted Ericsson's right leg and jerked his hips from the wall.
She's moving his corpse .
Still holding Ericsson’s leg, Chrissie turned and looked at them. 'Well?'
'Well, what?' asked Megan.
'Well, why are you just standing there? Either help or keep walking.'
'What are you even doing?'
Chrissie waved from Ericsson to the ice. ‘Are you blind and stupid?’
What am I missing?
Megan approached a few steps. Oh, of course!
Megan remembered falling on Glen. He'd felt like a bony trampoline. Ericsson’s solid frame would make a perfect human trampoline for when the bomb fell.
‘You're putting Ericsson under the bomb. Will it work?'
'Not if he’s all the way over here,' Chrissie shot back.
Megan glanced back at Victoria.
'Hurry up,’ hissed Victoria. ‘Help her.'
Megan braced herself for gore, but Chrissie had concealed Ericsson's head with his shirt.
'What's that?'
'A nicotine patch,’ answered Chrissie. ‘An old one. Lazy prick never took it off.'
Megan shouldn't have asked. The patch on Ericsson’s shoulder made him a real person again.
'I'll get the others,' said Megan.
Chrissie snatched her arm.
'Don't you dare,' she hissed. ‘We don't need their permission.'
Megan yanked her arm free. 'I meant their help , not their permission .'
'It's the same thing now,' said Victoria. ‘They're making enough decisions already.’
‘They’re making the wrong decisions,’ said Chrissie. 'They didn't even put Ericsson against the ice. They'd let him rot. Have you ever stopped in traffic near road kill, Megan? It makes you almost vomit in your lap. Well, we've got two hundred pounds of human road kill in our bedroom now.'
Two hundred pounds of rotting Ericsson , thought Megan. Locked in here with us.
'We need to bury him in ice,' said Megan. 'Not just move
him.'
Chrissie nodded. 'Help me then.'
A better corpse-moving technique occurred to Megan.
'You're doing it wrong,’ she said. ‘When I did first-aid training they taught us how to roll an unconscious person into the recovery position. Let’s roll him. '
Chrissie waved at Ericsson. 'Go ahead.'
Megan knelt and grasped Ericsson's leg.
She snatched her hand back.
He feels like plastic. Cold disgusting plastic.
'Not that easy, is it?' said Chrissie.
Megan's self-control wavered. Why are they leaving a corpse in here with us? I shouldn't have to do this. No one should have to do this.
An acid-hot tear scorched down Megan's cheek and dripped off her chin.
'Jesus Christ,' complained Chrissie. 'Are you crying now, Megan?'
Am I? thought Megan. Is this too much for me?
'No,' she said. ‘I just need something to cover my hands. Can I use your apron, Victoria?'
'Don't be disgusting,' said Victoria. 'He won’t bite you. Just hurry up and do it.'
Megan glared at Victoria. While you do nothing, as usual, you nasty old witch .
'Get ready to pull his shoulder,' said Megan.
Megan bent Ericsson's knee into a lever.
'Pull now, Chrissie.'
Both women pulled.
Ericsson's body flopped over and whumped onto its front.
And farted.
Braaaaaat!
'Oh, my God!' shrieked Megan, scrambling backward until her back hit the ice.
Both women stared at the body, waiting for any further sign of life.
Ericsson farted again.
Long and loud.
Brraaaaaattttt....taaat...tat...tat.
'He's dead,' said Victoria. 'It's just the gas escaping.'
'Still think your way is better?' asked Chrissie. 'He wasn't doing thatwhen I was moving him.'
'He's probably empty now,' said Victoria.
Then the smell hit.
Megan covered her nose too late. She dry-wretched, gagged, and then barely managed not to vomit in her pullover.
Dead man's fart!
'Let's just finish this,' said Chrissie, glancing sideways at the bomb.
They did. One roll at a time. Thankfully Ericsson had nothing more to say on the matter.
Breathless, they
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