Shallow Grave Read Online Free PDF

me.
    â€œWhy are you here?”
    Nothing.
    â€œToo broad,” Shannon says under her breath. She raises her voice a bit. “When did you die?”
    The cap skids forward. A sudden tightness seizes the back of my brain, and my vision blurs. I want to tell Shannon to stop, but my tongue feels thick, like someone’s stuffed a sock in my mouth.
    The cap slides to a halt.
    J
    Slides away.
    U
    Slides again.
    N
    I have a vague notion that I’m leaning backward, my head turned away from the board.
    Shannon’s brow furrows. “J-U-N?” she asks. “Do you mean June? Did you die in June?”
    Moving again.
    YES.
    I bite down on a little moan.
    There’s an invisible presence in here, and it’s talking to us.
    â€œYou died in June,” Shannon says. “Was it this past June?”
    YES.
    Shannon blinks. Licks her lips.
    â€œAre you a girl?”
    YES.
    Shannon’s eyes widen, and she takes a little breath. “Oh my god,” she whispers. Then she looks at me. “I think I know who this is.”
    â€œWhat?” I mouth back. So now she actually knows this dead person we’re talking to? Man, this is just too much for me.
    â€œWere you ready to die?” Shannon asks.
    The lid shoots toward the corner of the board.
    NO.
    A shiver starts somewhere in my core and works itself outward, leaving me cold. So cold. Like I’ve fallen through ice. But yet, my fingers are still burning. My stomach curls in on itself.
    â€œWhat is your name?” Shannon asks.
    The cap moves fast.
    GOODBYE.
    Shannon lets out a shaky breath. I can’t pull my hands from the lid soon enough. I blow on my fingertips to cool them.
    We sit, ghostly white and staring at each other.
    Then the phone rings.

Chapter Nine
    Shannon screams. She screams so loud, it drowns out my own scream. Then she grabs me and we scream together.
    We stare at the phone. I don’t remember taking it out of my pocket. But then, yes, I do. I checked the time before we ate the donuts.
    The display clearly tells me it’s my swim coach. Not hell calling. But I can’t move to pick it up.
    When the phone stops ringing, we stay like that, locked together, for a few seconds. Panting, we stare at the phone.
    I’m the first to release. Shannon moves back to her side of the board, gathering her hair to one side of her neck. “Holy cats,” she says. “That was intense.”
    â€œThat’s one way to describe it,” I agree. If this wasn’t happening to me, I’d be laughing. Because it’s straight out of a horror movie.
    Lucky for us, the scary part is behind us. We’re not stupid like the idiots in the movies. The fools who open doors to strangers at nighttime or who follow the big bad crashing noises through the woods to see what’s making them.
    We’re not stupid like that, because we’re going to put the Ouija board back with the rest of the chalkboards and hang up our PFD s and then get the hell out of here. I’ll talk Hatch and Mike into coming back with me on Sunday after practice. We’ll bring a few of those big-ass bright camping lanterns and get this place cleaned up.
    I gather up the cardboard and the paper towels and stuff them into the garbage bag by the door. Screw recycling. I’m getting out of here.
    â€œWhere are you going?” Shannon asks.
    â€œHome,” I say. “I’ve had enough fun for the next few years, I think.”
    Shannon laughs. “Pretty freaky, eh? I love it.”
    â€œI’m not feeling the love,” I say. “I’m feeling like it’s time to go.”
    â€œBut I want to find out more,” she protests. “We’ve only just begun. And I think I know who we’re talking to.”
    â€œHow? Who?” I ask. Then quickly I add, “Never mind. Tell me in the car. I gotta get going. I have practice early tomorrow.”
    Shannon looks around. “But what about all the