Rag Doll Bones: A Northern Michigan Asylum Novel

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Rag Doll Bones: A Northern Michigan Asylum Novel Page 27

by Erickson, J. R.


  Ashley shot to her feet, this time the pain in her ankle didn’t register as she ran to the end of her driveway.

  Sid rode into the beam of a streetlight.

  When he saw Ashley, he rode faster. At her driveway, he jumped off and ran to her, throwing his arms around her.

  “You’re alive,” she sputtered, crying as they hugged.

  * * *

  Ashley didn’t tell her mother what had transpired.

  After Max and Percy sat with Ash and Sid and explained Percy’s trip to the Amazon, the doll, and the El Lobizon, they all agreed no one would ever believe them.

  Instead the story was quite simple. Travis Barron chased the kids into the house, and an animal had attacked them.

  Travis told a different story when he awoke, but it was brushed off by the adults. Travis had a tendency to tell tall tales. And here was another one meant to cast the blame on someone else.

  The following day Ashley and Sid sat in Shane’s hospital room. Sid played with the stethoscope, pressing it to different places on his chest. “I must be dead because I can’t hear a thing,” he muttered.

  “Not funny,” Ash told him, rolling her eyes.

  Shane sat in bed, sipping a milkshake. The left half of his head was covered in bandages.

  The monster had bitten off part of his ear, and he’d lost a lot of blood.

  After Sid and Ashley filled him on Percy’s story, he sat incredulous. “So, he was like a werewolf?” he asked, setting his shake aside. “Do you think he’s dead?” he asked Sid.

  Sid’s face fell. “I don’t know. I hope not.”

  “Me too,” Ashley agreed. “But you did the right thing, Sid. He was going to kill you.”

  Sid nodded.

  Shane leaned sideways and scrambled for the remote control on his bedside table. “Look,” he blurted, turning up the volume.

  A reporter stood in front of Vern Ripley’s house. Vern’s mother was crying, barely held up by her large husband.

  “He came home in the middle of the night. Starved, clearly abused, but alive. Thank you, God, he’s alive.” She cast her hands to the sky as if sending her words up to the heavens.

  “Did he tell you who abducted him?” The reporter asked. “What does he know about his captors?”

  Vern’s mother shook her head and wept.

  Darwin Ripley spoke for her. “He’s being treated at the hospital. His doctors believe his memory may come back, but right now.” He shrugged. “He doesn’t remember a thing. He was soaking wet when we opened the door last night. His shirt was stained with blood. That’s all we know.”

  The segment shifted to the pit. In the distance, yellow tape marked off the cliff that led to the Witch’s Cave.

  Sid paled and looked away.

  Shane lifted the remote and clicked off the television.

  “Vern lived,” Ashley said.

  “And Melanie died,” Sid murmured.

  “But it’s over now,” Shane finished. “It’s over.”

  Epilogue

  Max spotted Percy sitting in the corner of the coffee shop, a map spread from end to end on the table before him.

  “Max,” he beamed, standing and pulling Max into a hug.

  The man looked better, good even. A healthy pink color had replaced his pallor and his hair had grown out an inch. A compass hung from a leather strap around his neck.

  “My physician has cleared me for travel. I’m not sure I’ll come back this time,” Percy announced, gesturing at the map.

  Max glanced down and returned his gaze to Percy, surprised.

  “Brazil? You’re going back?”

  Percy nodded.

  “I have to return the bones, Max. I won’t be at peace until I do. And honestly, I miss the simplicity of life in the Amazon. The new world is a complicated place. Sometimes I think I should have been born in another time.”

  Max sat and stared at the crisscross of rivers and the dense patches of forest.

  “Will they hurt you? For stealing the bones?”

  Percy shrugged.

  “Nothing compared to what Guy Lance did to me. And here, this is for you.”

  Percy pulled a leather journal from a canvas bag.

  Max opened it and read the first page.

  Max saw names listed, including Nicholas Watts, Chris Rowe, Vern Ripley and another boy he’d never heard of, Ferris Maloney.

  Max closed the book, disgusted.

  “It’s all in there. When they took the kids, when they turned them, and a lot of other stuff too. Disturbing stuff.” Percy offered.

  Max nodded, pushing the book away though he knew he’d have to read it at some point.

  But not just then.

  Kim’s son Nicholas had been found in Kinglsey, a town south of Traverse City, barefoot and confused. There was no one to claim him. His mother had been murdered and his father rotted in jail.

  Martha from Ellie’s House had called Max and told him.

  Without a moment’s hesitation, Max had gone to the hospital to retrieve him.

  The thought of reading the specifics of the torture Nicholas endured caused a shudder to roll down Max’s spine.

  “Thank you, Percy,” Max said, standing and slipping the journal in his back pocket. “And good luck.”

  * * *

  “Can I go?” Nicholas asked Max, some of the shyness of the previous days had dissolved.

  Ashley, Sid, and Shane stood at the end of his driveway, their bikes beside them, their faces hopeful.

  He grinned at Ashley’s bike, offering her a thumbs up.

  After she’d told him the story of what Travis had done, Max had gone to Travis’s house and demanded his parents pay to fix the bike. Not wanting to attract any more negative attention regarding their son, they’d done just that. Starfire looked as good as new.

  Nicholas watched him expectantly.

  “Yeah, absolutely. Have fun, guys,” Max said, fighting the urge to warn them away from the woods or insist they check back within a couple hours.

  Jake sat on his porch drinking a bottle of beer. He waved goodbye to the kids. “Family life looks good on you, Maxy,” his brother told him.

  Max smiled, still unsure of himself as a parent.

  Technically he wasn’t a parent. Guardianship papers had only just been filed. It would be months before the court ruled on whether or not Nicholas Watts could stay with him permanently, but in the meantime, this was good enough.

  He walked to the chair beside Jake and sat down, lifting his beer and clinking it against his brother’s.

  Max sighed and rested his head back.

  A blue butterfly with black striped wings landed on his outstretched arm. The butterfly paused, flapped its wings several times, and then took flight.

  He watched it arc high, catch a breeze, and float down before flying off in the direction the kids had ridden.

  Want more of the Northern Michigan Asylum Series? Grab your free copy of Kerry Manor today.

  Send Me the Story!

  Also by J.R. Erickson

  Read the Other Books in the Northern Michigan Asylum Series

  Some Can See

  Calling Back the Dead

  Ashes Beneath Her

  Dead Stream Curse

  Rag Doll Bones

  Dark Omen

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you to all the people who helped to make this book, and the series, a reality. Special thanks to my husband, Kyle, my parents and in-laws for all their support in my writing journey. Thank you to Rena Hoberman for the beautiful covers. Thank you to the editor of this book, Kristie. Thank you to my beta readers and advanced readers. Thank you to all of you who have read the series. You bring the books to life.

  About the Author

  J.R. Erickson, also known as Jacki Riegle, is an indie author who writes stories that weave together the threads of fantasy and reality. She is the author of the Northern Michigan Asylum Series as well the urban fantasy series: Born of Shadows. The N
orthern Michigan Asylum Series is inspired by the real Northern Michigan Asylum, a sprawling mental institution in Traverse City, Michigan that closed in 1989. Though the setting for her novel is real, the characters and story are very much fiction.

  Jacki was born and raised near Mason, Michigan, but she wandered to the north in her mid-twenties, and she has never looked back. These days, Jacki passes the time in the Traverse City area with her excavator husband, her wild little boy, and her three kitties: Floki, Beast and Mamoo.

  To find out more about J.R. Erickson, visit her website at www.jrericksonauthor.com.

 

 

 


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