When former detective Ray Mercer takes a job driving bodies for a small-town funeral home, he thinks he's found peace in monotony—just miles of empty road, the low hum of the engine, and the silence that used to scare him less than the living. But when the dead start arriving under false names—and missing their real ones—his quiet route begins to unravel into something darker than anything he ever saw on the force.

The deeper Ray digs, the more he realizes that the bodies he's transporting aren't just casualties of crime—they're inventory in a system built to profit from disappearance. Each tag, each ledger entry, each cold hand he loads into the hearse leads him further down a chain of corruption stretching from morgues and hospitals to high offices that swear they don't exist.

And at the heart of it all, buried beneath codes and cover stories, lies a phrase whispered by those who know too much and live too little to talk about it again: Continuation Protocol.

As the walls close in, Ray's quiet investigation turns personal. The faces in the rearview mirror begin to blur with the ones from his own past, and the line between justice and survival fades into the fog. Every mile becomes a reckoning with what it means to live among the dead—and whether some truths are meant to stay buried.

Gritty, atmospheric, and unnervingly real, Borrowed Bones is a slow-burning descent into the spaces between morality and decay—where identity is currency, silence is safety, and every secret has a body.