The Broken Places: A Novel by Blaine Daigle & Wicked House Publishing

Author:Blaine Daigle & Wicked House Publishing [Daigle, Blaine & Publishing, Wicked House]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Wicked House Publishing
Published: 2023-03-23T16:00:00+00:00

Ryne's breath caught inside his throat and for a few seconds he struggled to create words. Finally, a whimpering, "what?" escaped his lips. He collapsed backwards and began to hyperventilate, his breath a heavy push through struggling lungs. He shifted the light to the next animal; this one a large bear. There was a stone beneath it as well. Ryne scurried over to it. He moved the stone and found another carefully folded piece of linen paper.

Richard Burdette.

"Who is Richard Burdette?" asked Shawn.

Ryne’s voice sounded hollow, empty. "My great-grandfather."

Blood boiled beneath Ryne's skin, and a deep ache manifested itself behind his eyes. He felt Shawn’s stare even through the darkness. As he turned and saw the intensity all over Shawn’s face, he knew what his friend was thinking. He was thinking that Ryne was lying. He had to be. There was no explaining away the godforsaken sight in the bowels of his family's cabin, or the presence of his family members' names entombed beneath crucified animals. Even Ryne could admit that.

"Get the fuck back upstairs," Shawn said through gritted teeth.

Ryne got to his feet and started moving back towards the ladder's base. He felt Shawn’s glare track him the entire way. As they reached the steps, Noah froze.

"Move," said Shawn.

"Look," said Noah. He raised a shivering arm and extended a long finger. "Behind the ladder."

Ryne cautiously stepped forward. When he reached the ladder, the lighter illuminated enough of the darkness, and he could see what Noah was looking at. Shawn saw it as well, and gasped.

Behind the ladder was a small alcove, dug another few feet into the permafrost. Tucked away enough that they hadn’t seen in coming down, now the lighter provided just enough light to make out another animal nailed to its far wall. This one was fresher than the deer, the blood still shining in the glow of dancing light.

Hanging dead on the wall was a large, black, wolf.

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