Saving The Dark Side: Book 1: The Devotion

by Joseph Paradis

  Saving The Dark Side

  Book 1: The Devotion

  Joseph Paradis

  Saving the Dark Side Book 1: The Devotion is a work of fiction. Names, Characters, places, and events are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, places, or events is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2018 by Joseph Reynold Paradis.

  All rights reserved.

  Ebook cover design and formatting

  www.ebooklaunch.com

  Edited by Mike Waitz of Sticks and Stones Freelance Editing

  www.stickandstonesediting.net

  Author Website

  www.aeneriaiscoming.com

  From the World of Aeneria

  Saving The Dark Side

  Book 1: The Devotion

  Book 2: The Harbingers

  Book 3: The Unbound

  The Swindlers And The Squall

  Her Gift, For You

  For all Hate mail and love letters:

  www.aeneriaiscoming.com/contact/

  This book is dedicated to those to braved it first.

  Mike Waitz

  Timothy Charest

  Trevor Hornbeck

  Melanie Kasparian

  Terri Paradis

  James Miller

  Lydia Gill

  And to Brandon Courcy,

  who showed me just how real Aeneria was.

  Contents

  Chapter 1: Ridicule

  Chapter 2: Breaking Point

  Chapter 3: Time Travel

  Chapter 4: Questions

  Chapter 5: Fading

  Chapter 6: Egress

  Chapter 7: Arrival

  Chapter 8: Nightfall

  Chapter 9: Proper Introductions

  Chapter 10: Falling

  Chapter 11: Enlisting

  Chapter 12: Among Giants

  Chapter 13: Passions

  Chapter 14: Orientation

  Chapter 15: Contribution

  Chapter 16: Descent

  Chapter 17: Trials

  Chapter 18: Reunited

  Chapter 19: Angels and Burdens

  Chapter 20: Lore

  Chapter 21: Warrior

  Chapter 22: Rise and Enter

  Chapter 23: Final Rendezvous

  Chapter 24: The End of Habbad

  From the World of Aeneria

  From the Author

  Chapter 1

  Ridicule

  “I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe.”

  “Miss, miss look at me. Jesus she’s really losing it here. HEY! There we are, okay? My name is Officer Daniels. I need you to tell me what’s going on. Why did you call 9-1-1 tonight?”

  “I can’t breathe, I… I…”

  “Daniels look at her, you’re spinning your wheels right now.” Sergeant Brady sighed, taking off his cap and tossing it onto the kitchen table. Two decades on the department taught him this girl wouldn’t be much help. Her bony frame sat like a crumpled umbrella on the floor. Her bleach-blonde hair covered her face and eyes, though it did nothing to muffle her wailing. Annoyed, Brady turned to his partner, “The EMTs will be here in five minutes. Let them have a go with her. Look, there’s a stroller in the corner, why don’t you look around and see if there’s any other kids in the house.”

  “Alrighty then,” Daniels said and took his hand off the girl’s shoulder. Scowling, he started his scan of the first floor.

  Sergeant Brady watched out of the corner of his eye as his partner left the kitchen. He hoped the house could tell them something. There were signs of kids all over the apartment. Hopefully they weren’t in a bad way. Brady had seen more than his fair share of hurt kids in this neighborhood. The Tree Streets were not a safe place in broad daylight, let alone at 3 o’clock in the morning. This neighborhood held the record every year for the most calls. Domestics, drugs, noise complaints, shootings, and other things associated with this caliber of ‘ghetto trash’.

  “Got a kid over here in the pack-n-play. Six months or so, but he looks fine,” Daniels called from the living room. “Might be another one upstairs.” He held up a cheap ninja sword that Sergeant Brady recognized as having come from the dollar-store down the street. “Heading up now.”

  Unbuckling his portable radio, Sergeant Brady waited for the girl to quiet down so he could make the call. Her wailing seemed to be on the rise however, so he cupped his hand over the microphone, “Twenty-Eight on scene at Blossom Street. Got a female, early twenties, no injury. One child, six months, no injury. Searching the rest of the house now.” He rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger as he turned the volume down on his radio. Judging by her hyperventilating sobs, he guessed the girl was no closer to telling him what was wrong. He took a look around the first floor, which didn’t take long considering it had two rooms and a closet. The place was a bit messy, but not dirty. There were dishes on every counter and blankets on the floor, but the small apartment didn’t have that stink that you found in most places around here.

  Careful not to wake the little one, Sergeant Brady sidled past the couch to see if the room could tell him what the girl couldn’t. He bent low and gripped a family photo off the end table. There was the girl and what looked like the infant, but there was another boy as well, three maybe four years old. They all had matching white collared shirts. The older boy reminded Brady of his nephew. He frowned, wondering what kind of low-life the boy would turn out to be. This damned neighborhood did it to them. Nearly every kid in these streets had their wings clipped before they ever had a chance to be someone. Brady said a silent prayer for both boys, hoping they would amount to more than his nephew had.

  Sergeant Brady made his way back into the kitchen as Officer Daniels came stomping down the creaky stairs. Daniels reached out to grab the banister, but seemed to think better of it after a quick glance at the broken spindles.

  “Do you have to be so loud?” Brady hissed as his mouth disappeared behind his moustache.

  Officer Daniels rolled his eyes, motioning around him as if to showcase that there was no point keeping quiet. Red and blue lights flashed through the apartment and another squad car’s siren could be heard screaming down Pine Street nearby. A few neighbors started to pop up like alley cats perched on their front stoops, eyes peering for a better view into the apartment.

  “You think I’m going to wake anybody up on this street?” Daniels whispered as loudly as he could, “These people don’t wake up for nothin’ less than a gunshot. And if you haven’t noticed, the chick is belting out a pretty good tune for somebody who can’t breathe.” Daniels winced as the infant in the living room started crying softly. “There’s no one upstairs, but I think another kid lives here,” Daniels whispered, quietly this time.

  Sergeant Brady’s moustache twitched as he held Daniel’s eyes with an iron glare. The kid was still a rookie, but he had the attitude of a jaded detective. “Come on then,” Brady grumbled.

  The girl was still fighting for air as though choking on tear gas. Daniels craned his neck. Sergeant Brady adjusted his belt under his ample belly and squatted down next to the girl, who sat with her legs straight out like a doll’s. It was as if she didn’t even know he was there. Gently, he placed a finger under her chin and tilted her head up just an inch. He held out the family photo and her sobbing stopped abruptly.

  Sergeant Brady adopted a voice which he normally reserved for his granddaughter: “Sweetie, where is your other son?”

  She looked as if she was going to break down again as she grasped the hair at the sides of her head. Shaking, she squeaked, “He’s gone.”

  Brady’s wispy eyebrows came together, “Honey, I need you to tell m
e exactly what you mean by that. Where is your son right now?”

  His gentle voice seemed to calm her as she unraveled her fingers from her hair and wrapped her arms around her middle. “I…I woke…I mean… Joshy woke me up a couple hours ago because he was hungry. I went into the boy’s room to feed him and Cole was…Cole wasn’t… I can’t… I can’t breathe.” The incoherent sobbing stole her voice and wracked her small frame.

  Sergeant Brady’s eyes went wide as he stood up. Daniels was looking intently at him, his flashlight at the ready. “Check the exterior.” Daniels nodded and rushed outside, leaving the door open.

  • • • •

  Two days passed in a riot of activity. The girl’s name turned out to be Tara Carter. Her little apartment was visited at all hours by crime scene investigators and a detective from the state. Though they assured her they were doing everything they could to find her oldest son, they didn’t have much to go off of, and she seemed to know it.

  Investigators discovered the windows and doors were locked from the inside, and no one else had a key to her apartment. There was no sign of a break-in and Tara didn’t have any close friends, relatives, or enemies who might want to cause her family harm. With her permission, the local news offered what help they could. Cole’s big smile and neatly combed hair could be seen several times a day on the broadcast channels. Her neighbors, with whom she had never said a word to, offered a hand as well. Every night they went out calling his name, poking through dumpsters, cars, garages, sewer drains, every place an imaginative toddler might crawl into.

  Tara had eventually stopped crying, but she also stopped eating, sleeping, and showering. Her upstairs neighbor, a matronly woman known for her heavy hand when dealing with troublemakers, offered to take Joshua for a night or two while they sorted this out. Tara, however, refused. She claimed she couldn’t bear to be without her remaining child. Brady and Daniels stopped by a few times a day to offer condolences and what little updates they had.

  On the evening of the third day the department had yet to make any measurable progress. Brady and Daniels stopped by Tara’s apartment at the beginning of their shift. Both officers were determined to get something out of her. Their window for finding the child alive would soon come to a close.

  The smell of cleaning sprays and fresh coffee permeated throughout the small apartment. The kitchen gleaming, Tara set aside two mugs for her two guests. She looked as unkempt as ever, as if she had done nothing but clean the place for the last few days. Her short blonde hair looked like a toothbrush that was long overdue for replacing. Daniels held Joshua in his arms as he jiggled his keys in front of his wiggling, chubby fists.

  “Do you fellas want any milk or sugar?” Tara asked. Her voice was empty and monotone.

  “Black is just fine for me, hon,” Sergeant Brady replied.

  “Extra-extra for me, please and thank you,” said Daniels. “No-no-no Joshy, not in your mouth. That’s for Officer Daniels, yes it is. Do you want to be a cop someday too? You do don’t you?” The squirming Joshua had just unfastened Daniels’s badge and immediately tried to gum it.

  “So, Tara…” Sergeant Brady spun his hat awkwardly in his wrinkled hands. “The state’s detective wants you to come down to the station tomorrow. It’s not an interrogation or anything of the sort, he just wants to go over some details. Work history, past boyfriends, known relatives. You know, little pieces of the puzzle. To be honest hon, you’ve been mighty quiet the last couple days. Help us bring Cole home.”

  Tara placed two red mugs on the table with a dull clunk. “We’re at sixty-eight hours. When I talked to that detective guy he told me if missing children aren’t found within seventy-two hours, the chances of finding them alive is…” her voice trailed off for a moment. “I don’t know the ‘how’s or the ‘why’s or any other questions you’ve been asking. I’ve told you everything. My baby is gone. He just vanished.” Her tone shifted from hard wood to brittle glass, “I’ve never felt so helpless. He’s probably angry with me for not being there for him. He’s never gone more than a few hours without me. He must be so scared. I just want my Cole back.”

  She walked back to the counter and grabbed another mug, but she merely held it in both hands close to her chest as she gazed out the window. “Cole took his first steps right out in the driveway, right in the middle there next to the crack. He was so nervous, but he trusted me. He would fall and start crying, but then I was always there to pick him back up. He would give me the biggest smile and try over and over. He barely ever smiled too. I thought there was something wrong with him, never smiling you know, but now I think he was just busy trying to figure things out. Now he’s all alone in the dark somewhere and I’m not there to pick him back up. I’m never going to see him smile again.”

  Sergeant Brady rubbed the stubble on his chin, trying to find the words. She was right of course. At this point the odds were pretty long. “Tara don’t…don’t think like that. We don’t have any leads yet but that certainly doesn’t mean Cole has been harmed in any way.” Sergeant Brady cut his hand through the air. “We’ve only just started looking and forensics haven’t finished their bit. There’s no sense carrying on with that talk. What Cole needs now is for you to get a solid night’s sleep so you can hit it hard in the morning with the detective.”

  “Come on, Brady, be real with the kid,” Daniels cut in, plopping Joshua down in his walker. “You know as well as I do that things ain’t looking good. We’ve got nothing and she’s clamming up whenever we push her too hard.” Daniels raised his hands defensively as Sergeant Brady gave him a look that indicated he had better change his tone. “Now I’m not saying that she’s a suspect or anything but I’m telling you she knows something. Doors locked, windows locked, not to mention this neighborhood doesn’t have a stellar reputation. Somebody came in here, I’m telling you. She needs to come clean with who she knows or who she’s protecting. Maybe she’s got a pissed-off boyfriend or something. Do you even know who the kid’s father-”

  “Dammit boy that’s enough!” Sergeant Brady leaped to his feet, his face flushing the same color as his mug. “You’re-not-helping.” He jabbed a finger into Daniels’s chest with each word. “How is she supposed to keep a level head with talk like that, you hot-headed fool.”

  “She needs to hear it!” Daniels pushed back against Brady’s finger. “The kid’s gone and the friggin clock’s ticking! The sooner she rolls on whatever friends she’s trying to protect, the sooner we can track down the crack head responsible.”

  Sergeant Brady placed his mug down as slowly as he could, keeping his eyes locked on his partner. “Go.”

  “Go where?” Daniels asked, crossing his arms.

  “Question the neighbors, wait in the car, I don’t care. Just go before I reconsider your probationary status,” Sergeant Brady responded in a quiet voice.

  Daniels looked as if he was about to throw a punch, but seemed to think better of it. He cast a poisonous look at Tara’s back and stepped towards the door. As he reached for the handle an empty mug smashed on the linoleum floor.

  Thump-thump, thump-thump

  With eyes as big as blooming lilies, Tara turned her head towards the stairs.

  Thump-thump, thump-thump

  A boy stood at the landing, one hand curled around the broken spindle. His little belly poked out from under his dinosaur t-shirt as he greeted the room with a smile.

  “It’s time for fruity peeeebels mommy!”

  • • • •

  Over the next week Tara’s little apartment was swamped with neighbors, all demanding to see the boy with their own eyes and share their relief. Reporters stopped by to request information so they could write up their pieces. It’s not every day that stories like this turn out with a positive ending. Tara had no new information to give them, however. Over and over she told them she was deeply disturbed by the whole ordeal and just wanted to move on. The reporters were tactful enough not to press the subject, and agreed to make it seem
like Cole had just turned up in the middle of the night, which he had, sort of.

  The local police department as well as the state detective were very curious as to how the boy could show up out of nowhere. They couldn’t completely rule out Tara as a suspect. After all, who else could have provided a three-year-old with the means to disappear and reappear? There was some deliberation, which culminated in a shouting match between a red-faced Sergeant Brady and his command staff. All things considered, there was no proof of foul play so the investigation was closed, and Blossom Street shone just a tad brighter for a time.

  With the reporters gone and the investigation finally over, Tara was able to get back to her normal life. She couldn’t afford to take any more time off from work, so she took her neighbor up on her offer to watch her boys. The woman, who preferred to be called ‘Nana Beth’, had been retired for a few years and had all the time and attention in the world. Furthermore, Nana Beth was much cheaper than daycare, at the cost of a few nice cozy dinners a week, which she usually cooked for anyway. Nana Beth was sweet as could be and definitely had enough fire in her bones to protect the boys. The old woman was also unusually tall and impossibly strong. Groceries never took her more than one trip, and she shoveled the whole driveway by herself in the winters. There was a rumor that she had been a champion boxer in her youth, back when there were no women’s leagues. It was only a rumor, but her towering frame and hard-as-nails attitude were enough to stop trouble before it started. More than one mischief maker in the neighborhood had felt her massive bony hands across their backside at one time or another. Even the teenagers straightened their backs and filtered their language around her. Still, despite how safe the boys were in Nana Beth’s capable hands, Tara called every few hours just to be sure.

  Several weeks had passed and the world had all but forgotten all about Tara and her lost boy, and that was just the way Tara preferred it. Nana Beth turned out to be a steadfast and reliable friend who was always good for a story or sagely advice. Things were indeed looking up for Tara’s little family. Cole stayed within sight, and Joshua became more mobile by the day as his chubby legs began to find traction on the carpet.