Dissolve

by Andrea Heltsley

  “What’s up guys?” I implored.

  “Umm, you might want to be sitting for this,” Nessa replied.

  I sat on the edge of the bed obediently, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “Okay, what happened in the last fifteen minutes to freak you out so much?”

  Silently, Nessa looked at a white card, and then reluctantly handed it over. It was a plain hotel greeting card. I opened it and see the handwriting scrolled across it. My blood turned to ice in my veins as I read it.

  You can hide, but you can’t escape what is coming. Things are not what they seem. If you want answers, ask Shane Dawson. Check the cemetery plots before the clock runs out for him.

  -S

  It took me a minute to process everything. This person clearly had access to our room first 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 blue ink and the handwriting was clear and concise blocky lettering. There was nothing unusual about it to give it character. The only thing I managed to discover that Nessa and Noah hadn’t was the embossed recycle sign on the back of the card.

  Most recycled symbols are embossed clear or some variation of green. This one was a sky blue. It was odd, but still not enough to get us any closer to the truth. I showed it to Nessa and she frowned but lifted her shoulders, just as confused.

  “Alright, looks like we are doing this. Are you ladies ready?” Noah asked, tucking the card in his back pocket.

  “As ready as we will ever be,” I grumbled as we left the hotel and made our way to the car.

  Chapter 8:

  We once again entered the car in silence. All of us were so keyed up, the tension was palpable. No one quite knew what to say on the subject. I knew that I was creeped out and not even close to calming down. Someone wanted to make it clear that they could get to us at any given time.

  Just returning to that hotel room was going to give me nightmares. There wasn’t much of a choice given the situation. We had a limited amount of time to save this Shane guy and the clock was ticking. I tried to shake off the paralyzing fear and watch as Noah opened the map of Florida. He was navigating Nessa to the first cemetery we had chosen to check.

  About fifteen minutes later we pulled up to the parking lot and looked at the looming gate signifying we had made it to the Ragland Cemetery. The pointed wrought iron fence was tall, intimidating and appeared to surround the perimeter.

  “How are we going to do this exactly? They are closed and that fence is tall,” Noah asked.

  “I think I have an idea,” Nessa said. “Cora and I can lift you up and you can pull yourself over to the other side. Then, Cora can give me a boost and you can help me over on the other side of the fence.”

  “What about Cora?” Noah prodded.

  “Easy, she will dissolve and reform on this side of the fence. I will grab her clothes through the gates openings and she will redress on this side. It’s the best plan I can think of,” Nessa admitted.

  “I agree, it sounds like the best plan. Let’s get going. Time is wasting and we don’t even know if we are at the right cemetery,” Noah said.

  Nessa and I just nodded, cupping our hands together for his feet. We counted to three and Noah jumped into our hands and we swung him up on queue. He reached the top and used the bar just below the jagged points lining the top of the fence to pull him safely over before dropping to the ground with a thud.

  “One down, two to go,” he said in relief.

  “Okay Nessa, lets pull you up onto my shoulders and let you pull yourself over and into Noah’s arms. Then I will do what I have to do,” I told her.

  Nessa nodded nervously but did as I told her and we managed to align her a little shakily with the top of the fence. Once she had her hands on the top bar, I used my hands to thrust her up the best I could. She flipped over and Noah caught her with a pleased grin before setting her down. She said thanks before they both turned to me.

  “Showtime,” Nessa said.

  This time I tried it standing up, swaying on the breeze and shutting my eyes. I took a few calming breathes and imagined floating away like a balloon, weightless. It wasn’t long until I dissolved into a million swirling particles and slipped
through the fence effortlessly. I snapped back into place and scrambled to pull my clothes from the other side of the fence. I got redressed although I was growing more comfortable with the nudity I was so often inflicted with.

  Nessa nodded to me and we turned to face the dimly lit cemetery. The old fashioned street lights were sparingly placed throughout, giving off an eerie feel. Headstones made of limestone and marble of all shapes and sizes jutted out of the rolling landscape. A row of white crosses line a spot by the side fence. In the middle, a few mausoleums blocked the view of the back half of the cemetery.

  We made our way through the rows of headstones scouring the scenery for any newly buried plots. I was so busy looking for fresh plots that I missed a jutted out headstone and my feet came out from beneath me. Luckily Noah was there to catch me and I sighed in relief. Moving forward I was much more careful to watch where I was going.

  I was trailing behind now, deep in thought. We were forgetting something and I couldn’t put my finger on it. “Guys, I think we are forgetting something, I just can’t remember what the hell it is.”

  “Damn, we forgot the shovels,” Noah said shaking his head.

  Nessa was quick to jump in, clearly spooked in the cemetery. “Cora and I will go back and get them, you continue looking. We will find you once we have them.”

  Nessa placed her hand in mine and we turned before we can hear any protest from Noah. She must have read that I was feeling less than comfortable in this situation. A week ago, we were leading normal lives and thinking about weddings and clothes.

  I couldn’t even think about the fallout back home. My mother would know I was innocent and Beverly had probably already labeled me as the murderer. I thought about what a mess it all was until I thought about the real mess we were now ensconced in. Now, we were on the run and involved in something so big we couldn’t escape it.

  Once we got to the fence, Nessa nodded and I followed the process of dissolving. As soon as I was on the other side, she handed me my clothes and I tossed them on with haste. Then she handed me the keys and I ran for the car. As soon as I retrieved the three bulky shovels, I tossed them over the fence a few feet away from Nessa. Then I handed her the keys back before doing my disappearing act.

  This time, I grabbed my own clothes after snapping back into my own body and put them back on. Nessa laughed at me and I realized my shorts were on backwards. I shot her a playful look and turned them around. We grabbed the shovels and headed back into the cemetery, searching for Noah. We were soon plunged into an eerie darkness in the back of the cemetery, following the star strung inky sky for guidance.

  It was dark that is, until a large spotlight swept over the cemetery grounds. Damn, we were going to get caught. Nessa and I rushed to hide behind a mausoleum until the light had passed and the lights projection had subsided. Taking a deep breath, I returned to searching for Noah.

  “Over here,” Noah said.

  We both turned towards his voice and saw him crouching over a freshly buried grave.

  “How do you know if this is the right one?” I inquired.

  “That is the thing. I didn’t at first. Look at the name on the grave though. It reads “Dan Shonesaw” which can translate to Shane Dawson if you switch the letters around. It is no wonder we couldn’t find anyone buried anywhere with his name.”

  “Looks like we get started then,” I said reluctantly.

  We each grabbed a shovel and began to dig. Sweat was running down my face in droplets before I slowed to wipe it away. It was taking longer than I expected to reach the casket. Tired and thirsty, I returned to digging.

  About a half hour later I heard a thud and looked up. Noah had finally hit the casket. “Bingo, now we just have to get the last of the dirt off before we can open it.”

  We continued to shovel piles of dirt until the glossy black casket was mostly uncovered. Noah laid down his shovel and wiped his sweaty, dirty hands on his jeans. Then he looked at both of us as we looked on in half anticipation, half fear. We nodded and he slowly began to work the latches and open the top half of the coffin.

  What we found, was a blond haired guy in his late teens or early twenties dead or even unconscious. Noah hurried to unlatch the second half and he lifted the boy up onto the grass above. The boy didn’t even stir. Nessa and I exchanged worried looks. This could turn out to be a horrible situation. Digging up a guy in need is one thing, but digging up a dead guy was just plain morbid.

  Noah pulled himself out of the grave and returned to the boy. He brought his ear down to the boy’s mouth and took a deep breath. He told us he was still alive, but just barely.

  “Looks like we were just in time,” Nessa said. “How are we going to wake him up? We have to get him out of here and back to the motel.”

  “I am fresh out of ideas, does anyone have any other ideas?” I asked.

  Obviously, we hadn’t thought this out, because everyone exchanged blank stares. No one quite knew what to do now. I racked my brain for any plan to form, desperate to get out of here now that we found what we came for.

  Noah slapped Shane’s cheek gently, but there was no response. He checked his pulse and reports that it was weak but there.

  “We are going to have to go out the same way we got in, only we will have to lift him up and over the best we can. I don’t see any other way and we need to get the hell out of here,” Noah said.

  We nodded solemnly and I collected the shovels.

  “Leave them. We have no need of them now,” Noah told me.

  Noah lifted the boy in his arms and we followed, making our way back to the patch of fence towards our car. It took nearly ten minutes to find our way back, careful not to trip on any more headstones. Once we made it to the fence, Noah set the boy down and sighed.

  “Okay, here is the real test. Now we have to get his unconscious body over the tall pointy fence,” I said.

  Nessa’s eyes lit up and it was clear a light bulb had turned on inside.

  “What’s up Nessa?” I asked.

  “An idea, that’s what is up. Cora, could you get the car and pull it up as close to the fence as possible?”

  “Yeah, I think I know where you are going with this and it is a great idea,” I said.

  Without bothering to fill Noah in, I concentrated on dissolving. It was getting easier each time I did it and this time was no exception. I reformed on the other side and Nessa was already tossing me my clothes and the keys. I slid on my flip flops and reached the ground, scooping up the keys. Wasting no time, I hurried to the car and tried to get as close as possible by sidling up to the fence just inches from it.

  Noah finally nodded in understanding. “Ok, you go first Nessa, I will lift you up. Then I will lift him up and you two can carry him down. It is a brilliant idea.”

  Nessa made it over without a problem and we stood on the edge of the car, leaning over to grasp the unconscious guy. The points of the fence grazed the bottoms of our arms but we managed to get him into our grasp and lowered him to the hood of the car. Three down, one to go, but it was clear that Noah had thought it through and had it covered.

  He grasped the wrought iron fence and climbed up it using the car as leverage through the bars. Then he lifted himself up and over, landing on the hood of the car, leaving a small dent.

  Once he made his way down, we all went to check on the unconscious guy. He was still out cold through all that and Noah carried him to the backseat before getting in himself. I slid into the passenger seat and let Nessa turn the engine to a loud growl before we high tailed it out of the cemetery.

  “We cut that really close. It is a good thing we didn’t start at the other cemetery,” Noah commented.

  “Yeah, but now we have a guy near death that for all we know could be a serial killer. We don’t know anything about this Shane Dawson guy and yet we trust him with our lives,” I replied.

  “Three against one are good odds, especially against a guy just short of comatose. Don’t forget that it wasn�
�t very long ago that you took a chance and trusted me, even though I wasn’t sure I could trust you.”

  “True, I guess we have to take a chance. He could be in just as much danger,” Nessa agreed.

  I looked back and studied the unfamiliar boy. His blond hair was dirty, assuming from the whole buried alive experience. He looked to be close to our age, maybe slightly younger, about nineteen or twenty like I had originally thought. His clothes were filthy as well, but stylish. His faded jeans and tee fit him perfectly. I wondered if Nessa could read his mind in this condition. Before I got the chance to ask her though, she cut off my thought.

  “No, I can’t read his mind. I tried and it is no use. He is just barely alive right now. Maybe after some rest and actual oxygen, I will get a read.”