Free Dissolve by Andrea Heltsley Page A

of all. They knew who and where we were second of all. Third of all, our answers hung on a man named Shane Dawson who was clearly in a great deal of trouble himself.
     
    Nessa’s eyes met mine and it was clear she was holding back her tears. Noah ran his hands through his brown hair and leaned his head back, eyes closed. This was so much to take in. It was no wonder that they were as forlorn as they were.
     
    “Where was this?” I asked.
     
    “Sitting on the nightstand, in an envelope addressed to all of us. This person knows who we are. It looks like their name starts with an S, which is one step closer than we were. Clearly something big is coming. We need to find this Shane Dawson fellow before it is too late. He may be our only chance to stop whatever is going on,” Noah answered.
     
    “Okay, but what cemetery? There has to be half a dozen in the area. There is no way we can find him. What do you think he means by plot?” I asked, instinctively knowing the answer in my gut already but needing to hear him say it aloud.
     
    “I think he is buried alive and that means the clock is ticking. I suggest we call information and get a list of all the cemeteries first. Then we call them and see if a Shane Dawson was recently buried at any of them,” Noah said.
     
    “I hate cemeteries. They are haunted and spooky. I can’t imagine going to one in the middle of the day, let alone at night. I especially can’t fathom digging up a body,” I said, shivering at the thought. “Maybe he is just at the cemetery, not buried or anything so morbid.”
     
    “We can call the police and get help,” he added.
     
    “No, police are not an option,” I said very matter of fact.
     
    “Okay, then information it is. Who is going to do the calling?” he asked.
     
    “I need to talk to Nessa, it would be best if you did.” Then I added “please.”
     
    Noah nodded and I pulled Nessa by the arm outside and into the car. I didn’t bother to say a thing until we were both seated and the doors were locked.
     
    “What the hell is going on?” Nessa asked, tears flowing freely now.
     
    “I don’t know. Was it Noah?”
     
    “No. I read his mind and he is completely in shock. It wasn’t him.”
     
    “That is much worse. It feels like this nightmare began and has no intention of ending anytime soon. Who buries people alive? That is morbid,” I told Nessa.
     
    “It is no more morbid than injecting us with super powers and then tracking us. It feels like we are the prey and there is a predator out there just waiting to pounce at the right moment.”
     
    “This whole thing is awful. How are we going to unbury this Shane Dawson?”
     
    “The old fashioned way, I guess we are going to have to buy some shovels. We have to wait until the sun completely sets also. I don’t want to get caught and hauled to jail in connection with well, Tom’s murder,” Nessa replied.
     
    “Well hopefully Noah has some luck,” I said, trying not to think about Tom.
     
    I opened my car door, finished with this conversation and watched Nessa follow me back inside the room. Noah was still on the phone and when he saw us, he held his finger up signaling to wait a minute and thanked the person on the other end of the line.
     
    “We have good news and bad news. The good news is there are only three cemeteries nearby. The bad news is that only two have had any recent burials and none named Shane Dawson,” Noah said.
     
    My brows knit as I thought on that. Then I said finally, “Let’s try the two with recent burials. There could be some sort of message or signal there that leads us to the right place.”
     
    “That is my thought as well,” he replied.
     
    “We just need to get some shovels on the way,” Nessa added.
     
    “You guys get changed and then we will go,” I said picking up the card to inspect it one more time.
     
    Nessa and Noah scattered to get a change of clothes and I looked deeper at the card. It was written in