The Bone Carousel: The Lost Ones Trilogy, #1

The

Bone

Carousel

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J. Peter W.

Into the woods, under the trees

We follow the trail down to the sea

There's nowhere to hide

Don't wait for me

Don't look behind you

There's nothing to see

Below

Let me go

From here I know, it's a long way home.

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-The Birthday Massacre, The Long Way Home

CHAPTER

ONE

Do you see them?

See what?

Right there! Makin pointed.

There’s nothing there, Stevie replied.  What are you pointing at?

Give me your camera.  Makin wrenched the digital camera from his little brother’s hand.  He held it up and took aim, snapping off three shots. When he looked down at the screen panel there were only a few light glares and an unfocused tree.

Well, let me see it.

Makin handed the camera over disappointed.  They didn’t come through.

The sunlight? Stevie asked.

Just try and focus on them.  They’re floating right there in front of the tree.  He was once again pointing.

Is it faeries or pixies this time?

Look at them!  Three faeries are floating right there in front of your face.

Mom’s right about you.  You’re getting worse, Stevie said.  He stood up, tired of hiding from dust particles floating in the sunlight. So is she.

I’m sorry I wasn’t there. Makin got to his feet, trying not to stare at the purple bruise swelling on his brother’s face. I should’ve done something.

It’s not your fault she’s drinking so much, Stevie said.

It’s not your fault either.  Dad left us too and we aren’t falling apart.  She needs to get it together.

Yeah, well dad’s an asshole, Stevie said as he started to walk away.

Hey, I promise I won’t let her hit you again, Makin called out.

Stevie stopped in place and turned around.  Just like you promised before, Makin.  I don’t need your promises.  I can take care of myself.  He turned and walked through the woods towards their house.

Makin looked back at the faeries, watching them dance playfully through the late summer air.  He couldn’t figure out why he could see them and no one else could.  It bothered him the most that Stevie couldn’t see.  They were brothers.  Close brothers.  Their parents had them within a year of each other.  Irish twins, he remembered someone calling them.

The faeries twirled around in circles, seemingly carefree.  Makin was in awe of them.  Ever since he was a young child he had the ability to see things that others couldn’t.  Where he sees faeries, goblins, and ghosts, others see light glares, tree stumps, and fog.  Why he had this sight wasn’t clear to him, but he was determined to prove the creatures he saw were real.

Makin followed the three faeries as they descended deeper into the woods.  They would fly up high, nearly to the tops of the trees, where he would have to strain to see them.  Then they would flutter down, entwined in each other, spinning in tight circles until they were just feet from the ground.  He felt like he could watch them all day.  When he was out there, he didn’t think about his father leaving or his mother’s drinking.  He thought about how amazing it was that the faeries were here, living among the people and no one even knew it.  No one knew yet.

I will prove to the world that you exist.

The faeries landed on the trunk of a large tree, crawling along it with their humanoid limbs.  Makin moved in closer.  It never crossed his mind to capture one before.  They were always so elusive that he was just happy to see them.  But here he was, just feet away and they hadn’t noticed him yet.  This was his opportunity to prove to his brother that he wasn’t crazy.

He lifted his arms above his head, preparing to swing with an open hand.  His eyes focused on a faerie with a bluish-yellow tint glistening across its wings.  This was it.  This was his chance to grab one.

What are you doing?

A voice startled Makin.  He shot upright, dropping his hands to his sides.  He turned around and saw a boy about his age and height, but much heavier, standing behind him. Nothing, he replied.

What is it?  What’s on the tree?

Makin stepped to the side, hoping the boy would be able to see the faeries. Check for yourself.

The husky boy moved forward, all the way to the tree.  Yeah, well.  I don’t like strangers hanging around my place.

Makin spun around.  The faeries were gone.  He looked up and down the tree and then the air around it.  There was no sign of them. Great, just great!  You scared them off.

I did what? the boy asked.  He hocked up something in his mouth and then spit it to the ground.

Never mind, you can’t see them, Makin said.

You are really freaking me out.

Sorry.  I’m Makin Riley, he said, reaching out a hand.  Did you say you lived around here?

The heavy boy hesitated, but then shook Makin’s hand.  Marcus Tibble.  My dad and I live back there, the white house with red shutters.  But I was talking about this tree.

The tree?

Yep.  Marcus pointed up.

Makin’s eyes followed his finger and then up the tree trunk.  He kept going all the way to the top before he saw what the boy was referring to. Wow, that’s some tree house!

It’s a tree fort, not a tree house, Marcus said.  There’s a big difference.

Sure.  I meant tree fort.

The fort was enormous.  It filled out the top of the tree, expanding across the entire width of the branches.  Makin couldn’t even imagine how it was built.  It must have taken a small army.  He walked around the tree and saw chunks of two-by-fours nailed up the trunk serving as a makeshift ladder.  They went all the way up to the top, most of them looking unstable in his opinion.

Want to go up? Marcus asked.

Um, I uh-

Makin Riley! The sound of Makin’s mother’s voice cut through the trees like a banshee siren.  He knew when she used that pitch it meant he was in trouble.

Sorry, I gotta go, he told Marcus.  I live right across the woods.  We just moved in the other day.  Maybe we can do this some other time.

Yeah, okay.  But even think about going in there without me.  It’s booby-trapped.

Of course not, Makin said smiling, then started to run home. See you later.  He hoped his mother wasn’t too drunk and that Stevie hadn’t already run into her already.

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xXx

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Where’s your brother?

I don’t know.  We got separated outside.  I thought he came in already, Makin told his mother. 

Find him or it’s your ass, Makin.  You’re the big brother, you’re supposed to keep an eye on him, she said, the smell of vodka on her breath.

Makin turned to go back outside.  I thought that was your job, he mumbled.

What was that?

Nothing, he replied and walked out the door.

The sun was in the early stages of setting.  Half the sky was lit up orange, melting into a darkening blue.  The woods behind their house were still calling for him.  The monsters that hid there were tempting him to go play.  He hoped their latest move to the small city of Goblintown (seriously, that was the name) would provide the opportunity he had been waiting for.

Makin walked along the edge of the wood line, peering in for any sign of Stevie.  With the sun setting, the darkness emerged to the point that it was impossible to see more than a few feet inside.  As he walked, he could sense eyes were on him.  He could feel them following his every movement.

Stevie! he called out.

There was no response.

Stevie! he said it once more and thought he heard a faint growling sound.  His mind raced through the list of creatures it could be.  Goblins, trolls, werewolves, even orcs.  No, he'd never seen an orc, he wasn’t even sure if they were indigenous to that part of the country.

Maybe it was just a stray dog.

The sound of rustling leaves was approaching.  He felt a ping of fear.  He worried the monsters would smell it on him.  Run or stay, run or stay.  The choices flashed through his mind.

A dark figure was coming into view.  It was too tall to be a goblin and too short to be a troll.

Could it be an actual orc?  Around here?

What are you looking at? Stevie said, pushing through the branches and stepping from the dark woods.

I thought you were something else, Makin replied.

"Something else?"

Whatever. Anyway, Mom is at it again.  She’s pissed and looking for you.

Stevie walked up to Makin.  He was just a few inches shorter and barely thinner.  It was easy to tell why they were mistaken for twins.  Yeah, I know.  I heard her yelling.  Great way to introduce ourselves to the neighbors, Stevie said.  He nodded toward a girl at the house next door. 

She was leaning over the engine of a rusty, green VW beetle.  The license plate read GOBLIN.

Makin’s eyes lit up.  He watched her tall, thin figure bend over the block.  She pulled her brunette hair back into a ponytail with greasy hands.

Hey, Stevie said, snapping his fingers in front of Makin’s face.  Earth to Makin.  Earth to Makin.  You’re staring pretty hard there, buddy.

Huh, what?  He realized he was staring.  Whatever, just get in the house.

Stevie went up the yard towards the back door, stopping just before it.  He saw Makin still staring at the girl.  Hey, stop stalking that girl! he shouted and then jumped in the house before Makin could respond.

The girl turned around and saw Makin standing awkwardly alone, staring right back at her. 

His face blushed bright red. Sorry, he managed to say before running inside.  He wasn’t sure if she heard him or not, he was too embarrassed to care.

You ass! Makin said as he burst through the back door.

Stevie was standing in the kitchen.  Their mother had a handful of his shirt in her hands.  She was coming down on him hard.  The usual insults, but she seemed angrier tonight.

Mom, he’s here.  It’s okay.  He learned his lesson.  Makin tried to get in between them.

I told you two to be home before dark. She was slurring her words.  You kids don’t respect me, especially this one.

Mom lay off it.  It’s not even dark yet.  You’re drunk, Stevie said.  He was daring her to hit him again.

Makin saw the anger growing in her eyes.  She was close to exploding.  Stevie, come on.  Let’s go, he spoke, breaking his mother’s hand loose and freeing Stevie’s shirt.  I got him, Mom.

Stay out of my sight.  Both of you!  I don’t want to see you again tonight!

Makin pulled Stevie out of the kitchen and down the hall to their bedroom.  The house was tiny, the smallest either of them could remember living in.  The room they had to share was half the size of the last place they stayed. 

Stevie flopped on the bottom bunk.  I’m sick of this crappy house already.

Yeah, tell me about it, Makin replied.

We’re too old to be sharing a room, too old to have to deal with that pathetic excuse of a mother, Stevie went on.  I can’t wait for you to get your license so we can get the hell out of here.  We don’t need her, you know.

I still have another year before I turn sixteen.

Yeah well, I don’t know if I can make it that long, Stevie said.

Come on.  It isn’t that bad, Makin returned.  He climbed up to the top bunk, sprawling out across it.

You’re not the one she’s trying to kill. It's like she blames me for her fucked up life.

I told you I won’t let anything happen to you.  First chance we get, we’re out of here.  I promise.

Makin, stop!  Just stop with the promises.  I don’t want to hear it.

They stayed quiet the rest of the night, until they both fell asleep dreaming of a better life.

CHAPTER

TWO

The following morning Makin woke up alone in the room.  It wasn’t unusual.  Stevie made it his first priority to get out of the house.  He tried to spend as little an amount of time as possible around their mother.  In a few weeks school would start back up and it would be easier to avoid her, until then, he would stay outside as much as he could.

The thought of starting over again at a new school seemed dreadful to Makin.  He hated making new friends.  At least there was the kid across the woods.

What was his name again?  The chunky, spitting boy.  Marcus, I think.  Mucus Marcus.

Makin checked the clock, barely after nine.  He would still have a couple of hours before his mother woke up.  She tended to sleep in after a long night of drinking. As he sat up in bed, he heard a scratching sound above him.  He lifted his head up to the ceiling, turning his ear against it.  It happened again.  It was coming from the attic.  Once more his mind raced.  Having faerie sight wasn’t always a good thing.  It made him immediately expect the worst.

He hopped off the bed and went to his storage trunk, spinning the combination lock until it clicked open.  Inside were all the things he had collected, read, or made in order to help him catch monsters.  There were books on nearly every type of monster and creature ever written about, ranging from ancient mythological creatures to modern day zombies.  On top of that was a plethora of nets, traps, ropes, and even a few dull weapons he had purchased at a Renaissance fair.  The very top was covered in small, plastic cases that were filled with some of the evidence he had actually found over the years.  A couple of suspicious footprints dug out the dirt and plastered, photographs of claw marks on trees, and even a partially crushed skull that either belonged to a forest elf or a large squirrel.

Makin picked up a flashlight and a small net with weighted ends, and then shut the storage trunk back, locking it tight.  He went into the hallway looking for the door to the attic.  When he found it, he reached up and grabbed the rope that hung from the handle.  The door slowly creaked open.  It sounded like the rusted springs hadn’t been used in years. 

He flipped the ladder out and went up, flicking on the flashlight before he made it to the top.  The smell of stale air, wood, and installation were overpowering.  It hit like a wave as he popped his head inside.  Even though it was still early in the day, he could feel the summer heat, thick and unforgiving.

The ceiling was unfinished, nothing but rafters and plywood with random nails poking through.  Dusty cobwebs were everywhere, stringing the room together like an old spider kingdom.  He shined the flashlight from one end to the other.  In the corners the shadows lurked, dark and menacing.  The light was too dull to illuminate them from that distance.  He would have to get closer.

Makin climbed up onto the floor rafters.  No one ever built a proper floor so he had to balance on the narrow wood.  He stayed down on his hands and knees, crawling from one rafter to the next.  He felt his weight bend them in the middle like they were old and decaying.  His heart skipped a beat and he held his breath as the wood started whining under him.  Quickly, he kept moving, trying to find a sturdier one.

When he got to the area he figured was above his bedroom, he stopped and shined the light all around.  A protruding nail snagged his hair, combing through it.  He ducked down and pulled free with a shiver.  There was no sign of anything.  No monsters were hiding in the attic.

Just before he turned to leave, Makin heard the sound of someone talking.  He noticed the vent against the outside wall.  He moved over closer to it.  There was just enough room between the slots that he could see out.  The chubby kid, Mucus Marcus, was standing with the neighbor girl.  They were laughing about something.  Makin watched her smiling and he started to smile in return before he caught himself.

Okay, she seems cool, and obviously pretty, but as soon as she finds out you’re a total weirdo she is going to ignore you, so why are you still staring at her?

He finally turned and started back to the attic door when he heard the scratching sound again.  Makin moved the flashlight into the spot he thought it was coming from.  He saw something moving across a rafter.  It was small and dark.

A brownie is living in my attic!

He rushed over to it, watching it burrow down in the pink installation.  He reached with the weighted-net and snagged the lower half of the brownie, pulling it out.  The thing thrashed and slung itself around in his hand before biting him.  Makin dropped the net and shined the flashlight on to it, realizing he hadn’t been bitten by a brownie after all.  It was just a normal house mouse.  A little, brown mouse that was posing as a fantastical brownie. 

He was disappointed, and in pain where it had bit his finger.  Makin released the mouse and put the net in his pocket.  He then climbed back down the attic step ladder, the rusty springs squeaking the whole way.  He quickly washed off his finger and then put the net and flashlight away. 

When he came back out of his room, he saw his mother’s door was still closed and there was still no sign of Stevie.  Makin went to the kitchen and grabbed a cereal bar then walked out into the backyard.  He opened the wrapper to the bar and took a bite just as he heard Marcus call his name.

Makin!

Hey, he replied between chews.  It’s Marcus, right?

Yeah, this is my friend Frankie.  Come here. The chubby boy stood next to the tall, thin girl and waved him over.

Makin swallowed hard, barely able to get the granola down.  He had to remind himself how to walk as he made his way over to them.

Right leg. Left leg. Repeat.  Stay calm.  It’s just a girl.  You’ve seen a troll before.  How can a girl be scary compared to that?

Hi. I'm Frankie, she said and reached out to shake his hand.

Makin Riley, he said, trying not to make a complete fool of himself as he took her hand.

They both locked eyes for a second too long, before turning and looking to the ground.

Oh-kay, Marcus spoke.  He could feel the energy between them. This isn’t suddenly awkward.

So, um, how do you two know each other? Makin asked.  He tried to end the moment.  Frankie looked older, tougher, and of course,  prettier, while Marcus came off a little like a spoiled, chubby kid.  He couldn’t make the connection.

We met at school, Marcus immediately answered.  She’s a grade higher, but we’re still friends.

You’re a junior?

Will be, but enough with school.  It’s still summer, why are you guys talking about school? Frankie said.

Yeah, she’s right.  Let’s go hang out at my tree fort.  Makin hasn’t seen inside it yet.

Um, I don’t know if I-

Come on, Frankie spoke.  It’s not as lame as it sounds.

Makin was hesitant but didn’t want to lose the opportunity to spend time with Frankie.  He followed them into the woods.

Frankie walked beside him, telling him about the fort. 

Marcus’ dad really fixed it up.  I mean, like seriously fixed this thing up.  He's the best construction guy in the city.

He owns the largest construction business in the city.  He makes bank, Marcus said and then spit on a tree.

Makin shook his head, he never saw anyone spit that much before.

Out the corner of his eye, Makin saw a flurry of tiny white pixies bouncing around a small flowering bush.  They seemed so happy and oblivious to everything around them.

Frankie followed his gaze. You see something? 

Oh, uh, no. Nothing.  The fort sounds cool, he replied. Tell me more about it.

She watched the bush a few more seconds before turning back to Makin and giving him an inquisitive look.

Great, just great!  You blew it already!  It hasn’t even been thirty minutes and she thinks you're crazy.

When they finally reached it, the tree fort seemed even higher than Makin had remembered it.  The top was peeking out of the treetops.  He felt his stomach drop to the ground and his knees start to feel weak. 

Marcus went up first, grabbing the planks of wood that served as a ladder, and pulling himself up.  Frankie followed him, giving Makin a quick smile as she reached for the first two-by-four.

They were going up fast, making it look easy.

Makin’s eyes narrowed.  He lost his peripheral vision to enclosing cloudy blackness.  He felt like he was about to faint.

You coming up?  Frankie stopped climbing, looking over her shoulder at him.

Yeah. Yeah. I’m right behind you, he said, hearing the fear in his own voice.

He grabbed firmly onto the bottom plank.  There were three nails holding it to the tree and one that had been bent over only halfway through the wood.  His stomach was still dragging down heavily.  He felt it starting to twist.  Trying his best to ignore it, Makin pulled himself up, climbing up the makeshift ladder.  Each step was filled with both a tiny triumph and a paralyzing terror.

The going was slow but eventually, Makin made it to the top.  He refused to look anywhere but at the tree in front of him until he had made it safely inside.  Both Marcus and Frankie watched with