Shallow Grave by Alex Van Tol Read Free Book Online Page A

too.
    No blood.
    No breaks.
    No biggie.
    I look at Shannon in wonder.
    â€œAre you okay?” she says.
    â€œI’m not sure if okay’s the word,” I say. “But my fingers are fine.”
    Shannon lets out a long breath.
    I look at her. “That was scary.”
    Shannon’s wide eyes follow my gaze toward the door. She runs her hands through her hair. “That was Amityville scary.”
    â€œAmityville?”
    â€œYeah. Didn’t you ever watch The Amityville Horror ?”
    â€œNo. Do I want to?”
    â€œProbably not, after today.”
    We’re quiet for a few seconds. “Act of god?” I ask.
    She gives a weak laugh. “Well, I hope to hell that wasn’t karma.”
    She looks at me. She tries to smile, but her lower lip trembles. When she speaks, her voice is only a whisper. “Are we going to get out of here, Elliot?”

Chapter Thirteen
    This is bad.
    We’re trapped in an old boathouse on a Friday night with a ghost that’s as pissed as a bull whose balls have just been burned off.
    But I think I’ve got it figured out.
    â€œWe are going to get out of here,” I tell Shannon.
    I can tell she doesn’t believe me.
    â€œRight,” she says, gesturing toward the door. “Like we can just open the door and walk out.” She stands and walks to the door. Pushes on it. It won’t budge.
    â€œSee?” she says. “So easy. Look! I’m outside already!”
    She braces both arms against it and shoves.
    â€œShannon,” I say, my voice a warning.
    She ignores me. Pounds on the door with her fist. Kicks at it. Slams her shoulder into it.
    Nothing. Which is probably good, because this is usually around the time all the weird stuff starts to happen. This ghost doesn’t want us to leave, and any movement we make in that direction seems to rile it up.
    Shannon points at the hook, which is dangling down, clearly not locking us in. “You think we’ll get out?” she asks. “How do you figure? You just saw for yourself how easy it is to leave, Elliot.” I can hear the tears in her voice. “We’re trapped in here.”
    â€œWe are not trapped,” I say. Maybe it’s a lie. But the words make me feel better.
    Shannon leans her head against the door. I hear her sniff. “I don’t want this to be happening,” she whispers.
    â€œWell, we’re in it now,” I say. “Not much we can do except to give this… Jessica…what she wants.”
    â€œWhich is?”
    â€œTo be heard. She seems to have something to say.”
    Shannon snorts. “I’ll say.”
    â€œWhy don’t you spare me all the mystery, Shannon, and tell me who she is?”
    After a moment, Shannon lifts her head. She turns and slides down the door until her butt’s resting on the floor. She leans her elbows on her knees and sighs. “She was a senior,” she says. “Jessica Chapman. She was pretty. Beautiful. Ridiculous, really. Captain of the cheerleading team. She disappeared after a football game last spring. Just vanished. It made the news and everything. They had a manhunt going for days. They couldn’t find any trace of her.” She shivers.
    News to me. I don’t read the paper or listen to the radio.
    â€œI haven’t heard anything about it,” I say. Even though I’m new to Wildwood, surely people are still talking about a missing person?
    She shakes her head. “I haven’t heard much, either, since school started up,” she says. “Maybe we talked it all out in June. And I guess life goes on. She was two grades ahead of me anyway.”
    â€œWhat do they think happened?”
    Shannon shrugs. “Some people said she ran away,” she says. “Too much pressure at home, too much pressure at school. She was the best at, like, everything. Good marks, lots of friends. She was expected to flatten everyone at the regional