The Devil's Paradise

by Aiden James

  THE

  DEVIL’S PARADISE

  THE TALISMAN CHRONICLES #2

  by

  Aiden James

  Acclaim for Aiden James:

  “Aiden James has written a deeply psychological, gripping tale that keeps the readers hooked from page one.”

  —Bookfinds review for THE FORGOTTEN EDEN

  “Not only is Aiden James a storyteller par excellence, but his material for his story is riveting.”

  —Huntress Reviews

  “The hook to this excellent suspense thriller is the twists that will keep readers wondering what is going on as nothing is quite what it seems. Adding to the excitement is that the audience will wonder whether the terror is an evil supernatural creature or an amoral human…Aiden James provides a dark thriller that grips fans from the opening.”

  —Harriet Klausner, Amazon’s #1 book reviewer for THE FORGOTTEN EDEN

  “Aiden James writing style flows very easily and I found that CADES COVE snowballed into a very gripping tale. Clearly the strengths in the piece were as the spirit's interaction became prevalent with the family… The Indian lore and ceremonies and the flashbacks to Allie Mae's (earthly) demise were very powerful. I think those aspects separated the work from what we've seen before in horror and ghost tales.”

  —Evelyn Klebert, author of A GHOST OF A CHANCE and DRAGONFLIES

  “Aiden James is insanely talented!”

  —J.R. Rain, author of MOON DANCE and THE BODY DEPARTED

  BOOKS BY AIDEN JAMES

  CADES COVE SERIES

  Cades Cove

  The Raven Mocker

  THE TALISMAN CHRONICLES

  The Forgotten Eden

  The Devil’s Paradise

  GHOST HUNTERS 101 SERIES

  Deadly Night

  The Ungrateful Dead (coming soon)

  THE DYING OF THE DARK SERIES

  The Vampires’ Last Lover

  The Scarlet Birthright (coming soon)

  WITH J.R. RAIN

  Plague of Coins (coming soon)

  COLLECTIONS

  Terror X 2

  Dark Legacy

  The Devil’s Paradise by Aiden James

  Published by Aiden James at Barnes and Noble

  Copyright © 2010 by Aiden James

  www.aidenjamesfiction.com

  Cover Art: R.C. Rutter, bookcovers@rcrutter.com

  All rights reserved.

  Barnes and Noble Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Barnes and Noble and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  The Devil’s Paradise

  Prologue

  The sky was golden, and the early evening sun dipped down behind a majestic range of white-tipped mountains in the western horizon. The air warm, a light summer breeze carried the fragrance of roses and wisteria. Jack Kenney relaxed at a small table near the edge of a large veranda of white marble, trimmed in fine gold. From his present vantage point a city of unusual beauty stretched before him, all the way to the mountains’ foothills.

  “Everything is ready for you, Jack,” said the handsome, dark haired, and deeply tanned middle-aged man sitting across from him. “All you have to do is follow my instructions to piece it all together.”

  Dr. Oscar Mensch stood up and moved over to the veranda’s railing, looking down at a courtyard more than a hundred feet below. Surprised by the professor’s young and vigorous appearance, Jack considered the last time he saw him, when his head had been covered with bandages. He seemed very old and frail at that time, as he lay in his hospital bed attempting to recover from the severe beating he received a few days earlier.

  “What do you mean, Doc?” asked Jack, his deep hazel eyes dancing with acute interest.

  Dr. Mensch turned to face him, drawing a sip from the martini he held in his hand, the olive tapping lightly against the edge of the glass. His own pale-blue eyes were ablaze with excitement.

  “You’ll know soon enough,” he replied, his German accent thick. He moved back to his seat at the table. “It will become quite clear once you reach the house. Just remember to follow my notes in the journals stored in the desk I told you about.”

  Jack nodded his consent. But strangely disoriented in this place, for the moment he frowned.

  “Your mind is filled with questions, I can tell,” the professor observed. “Where would you like to begin?”

  “Well, for one thing, you’re ‘dead’, right?” said Jack, grimacing slightly as if unsure how to say this tactfully. “Am I dreaming?”

  “Truly, this is a meeting between two spirits—yours and mine,” he replied, his smile wan. “But make no mistake, Jack. What you and I discuss right now is as valid as any other discussion the two of us shared in the past.” He relaxed in his chair, still nursing the martini. “You have other questions as well, but none greater than the one you have concerning my relationship with Genovene.”

  Jack sat up in his chair and leaned toward him, eager to hear what he had to say. The mere mention of Genovene’s name made him uneasy. Knowing her penchant for extreme wickedness, he and his older brother, Jeremy, would’ve never come back to Tuscaloosa if not for an earlier promise made to Dr. Mensch before his untimely death. The fact she’d so easily seduced the professor greatly dismayed Jack.

  Five federal agents were dead, including Jack’s friend, Peter McNamee. To make matters worse, the FBI’s desperate search for the brothers had spawned a nationwide manhunt rapidly closing in on their whereabouts in Alabama. After being forcefully abducted from Tuscaloosa and taken to a secret FBI holding facility in Manassas, Virginia just a few days ago, they now returned home. Hoping to fulfill Dr. Mensch’s dying wish and somehow clear their names in the process, the reprieve from Jeremy’s adeptness at stealing cars and maneuvering past police roadblocks would only last so long.

  “I know you’ve had your differences with her in the past, but Genovene is not the villain you perceive her to be,” Dr. Mensch advised. “Every promise she’s made to me has come true. She’s seen to it that I’ve stepped into eternity equipped with the physical and mental prowess from a younger and happier time in life—as you’ve already noticed.

  “I’ve been treated like a king since I’ve been here, which is far more than I expected—despite the fact Genovene told me this would be so. Her lovely servants have fulfilled every whim of mine, regardless of how mundane or troublesome. And, their ability to fulfill desires I thought would leave me once my physical life on earth ended has truly amazed me.”

  He gave Jack a playful wink to let him know exactly what he meant by that, as if he couldn’t guess.

  Jack remained unfazed. It wasn’t at all hard to believe a creature as seductive as Genovene would make Dr. Mensch’s entrance into her illusionary world a wonderful experience. So far, he was in her good graces. Similar to the ancient earthly kingdoms Jack learned about in an undergraduate course taught by the professor, all would go well as long as he found favor with her. Knowing her fickleness, Jack worried his own role weighed heavily as to whether or not this afterlife would remain a heaven for his friend.

  “It’ll take some time for you to change your mind, eh?” the professor chuckled lightheartedly. “That’s fine. Just make sure you finish what I started, Jack. As I’ve said, everything you need is in the house at 1016 South Queens Court. Think of it as solving an enormous jigsaw puzzle, but be diligent. Genovene has
made it clear there is no time to dally…. I must go now. Jeremy is calling for you. Take care, my young friend, and remember everything I told you.”

  The entire veranda filled with golden light. The table and Oscar Mensch, still holding his martini while he waved goodbye, faded into an ethereal glow. Jack wanted to ask more questions, but the sensation of being pulled down into a deep chasm distracted him….

  Part I

  1016 South Queens Court

  “...Jack! Damn it, Jackie, wake up!! Oh, now you’re up. Jesus, man, I’ve been trying to wake you for at least the past five minutes!”

  Jack slowly opened his eyes, and as soon as he could focus them in the darkness he saw his brother glaring at him from the driver’s seat of the latest stolen vehicle in their quest to return to Tuscaloosa, Alabama. Jeremy insisted on switching from a Jeep Cherokee to the Nissan Altima just east of Birmingham, to insure the ever-increasing manhunt by federal and local authorities stayed a step behind them.

  “Sorry,” said Jack groggily. “I must’ve dozed off, man. Where are we?”

  “We’re home,” said Jeremy. “We just left the highway fifteen minutes ago, and it’s taken awhile for me to remember where Queens Court is. I hope to God no one recognized me since I must’ve gone by the Student Center at least three times.”

  Jack learned later it had been four times, but Jeremy wasn’t about to admit he momentarily lost his way around the University of Alabama’s main campus. Sleep deprivation could do funny things like that.

  “We’ll have to double back to Queens Court on foot, ‘cause I’m about to ditch this car. Just remember to stay away from the street as we move through the neighborhood. The address you’ve got had better be the right one, Jackie.”

  Jeremy glanced over at him wearily. The red rims around his piercing green eyes brought a haggard look to his otherwise handsome features. At least the welts and bruises across the top of his lip and right cheek had faded noticeably since the beating he received the night before.

  “It’s the right one,” assured Jack. The images from his dream still fresh, he thought about sharing it with him. He started to say something, but decided to wait for a more appropriate time.

  “Good,” said Jeremy. “I know it’s risky, but we can’t be driving around here all night looking for a better place to stash this car. We’ll leave it in that alley up ahead and sneak over to 12th Street. Queens Court should be just a few blocks to the north from there.”

  He turned into the alley and cut the headlights. Halfway down the narrow street sat a large dumpster. He pulled up behind it and parked the car. After advising Jack to grab the pair of flashlights they purchased earlier that day, he tucked Agent Bo Cochran’s 9mm handgun inside the front of his jeans after checking the safety. He then grabbed an extra ammunition clip from beneath his seat and stuffed it in his pants’ pocket.

  Following Jeremy’s direction, Jack left behind a few food items along with the rifles they carried with them since surviving their attempted execution almost twenty-four hours before. Even now, he thought about Agent Peter McNamee, the lone federal agent who befriended him last night, only to be murdered by his colleagues for the dangerous information he shared. Grateful for the miracle that later saved his and Jeremy’s lives, he let out a low sigh as he opened the passenger door and stepped quietly onto the graveled road.

  The dashboard’s clock read 9:14 p.m. when Jeremy withdrew the keys from the ignition, tossing them carelessly over his shoulder into the back seat before joining Jack in the alley. Swift and silent, they moved through the shadows until they reached 12th Street, where they proceeded even more cautiously. Queens Court was still four blocks away. After cutting through several yards they located the engraved street marker for 1016. A solitary watchdog behind one of the larger houses nearby noticed the pair’s presence, uttering a few gruff barks. But at least none of Dr. Mensch’s neighbors were outside enjoying the evening’s pleasant temperature from their porches and balconies.

  “So, this is the place, huh?” whispered Jeremy, after they ran up the circular driveway and stood before the front porch to the stately English Tudor shrouded in darkness. “‘Looks like the lawn’s just been cut, Jackie. You sure ‘1016’ is the right number?”

  “Yeah, I’m positive,” confirmed Jack.

  He, too, was concerned by the recent attention given the front yard. The house grand as any on this street, it sat on a large one-acre lot. The nearest streetlight revealed the yard’s flowerbeds, shrubs and hedges had been recently trimmed and weeded as well. He thought again of his recent dream with the professor.

  “Maybe we should ring the doorbell, just in case.”

  “Maybe so,” agreed Jeremy as the two stepped through a rose-covered trellis and onto the front porch.

  A handful of fliers and newspapers were stacked neatly next to the front door. The brothers approached the door and peered into the house through a row of decorative windows on either side of the entrance. Jeremy pressed the doorbell after neither one detected any movement inside. A series of chimes rang throughout the main floor. Once he tried the doorbell again, and no response, he motioned for Jack to try the house key.

  The door creaked noticeably as it opened and they stepped inside, nearly tripping over a pile of mail that had accumulated through the door’s mail slot. Jack reached for a light switch but Jeremy stopped him, motioning they should use their flashlights instead.

  The main floor was elegantly decorated and furnished with a mixture of expensive antiques and modern pieces. They scarcely believed the property belonged to the professor, since it seemed so unlike him. A man as simple and straightforward as Dr. Mensch wouldn’t need a place like this. They quietly explored the entire floor and the upstairs’ bedrooms until certain they were alone, and then moved into the kitchen.

  “How in the hell did Oscar end up with a home like this?” Jeremy wondered aloud, setting his flashlight on a large kitchen island while he opened the refrigerator. “There’s a twelve-pack of beer in the fridge here, and about six or seven cans of Dr. Pepper. You want anything?”

  “I’ll take a beer if you’re having one.”

  “‘Sounds like a plan.” Jeremy grabbed two beers and closed the refrigerator door. “I saw some luncheon meats and some cheese in there. We might as well check the pantry for some other stuff.”

  Jack moved over to the pantry. “I see some peanut butter and saltine crackers, along with cookies and potato chips. There’s some other shit in here, too.”

  “Any bread?”

  “No. But, I believe I saw a loaf next to the coffee maker on the kitchen counter.”

  “There is,” confirmed Jeremy, who soon grimaced in disgust. “Whew! That’s some nasty shit there! ‘Must be a few weeks old. You sure there are no other loaves that haven’t gone moldy, Jackie?”

  “‘Doesn’t look like it, man,” said Jack, searching the pantry again. “We’ll probably have to settle for cracker sandwiches this evening.”

  “Well, okay. Let’s get on with this.”

  They picked up their beers and moved over to the basement door. Jack pulled out the door’s key from his pocket and unlocked it. When he opened the door, a powerful musty smell greeted them. The beams from their flashlights couldn’t penetrate the thick blackness. As if there wasn’t a basement, but a deep abyss instead.

  “What the hell??” Jeremy cried out, nearly losing his balance. He grabbed onto Jack and staggered away from the doorway. “It’s just a damned hole in the ground!”

  Jack leaned over the edge of the chasm, his flashlight still unable to reveal anything within the hole. He found a light switch on the right wall just inside the doorway.

  “I know we planned on sticking with the flashlights, but they ain’t helping much.”

  Jeremy didn’t stop him from pushing the switch upward. When he did, a pair of ceiling lights above the hole came on. In the ample light now provided, the bottomless pit disappeared and in its place was a gray-painted wooden
staircase.

  ***

  “I’ll go first,” offered Jack, relieved the stairs were actually there, and figuring their tired minds had gotten the better of them a moment ago. Even so, he gingerly stepped onto the top stair. When it didn’t give way, despite creaking under his weight, he slowly ventured down the staircase with Jeremy following close behind.

  They exchanged nervous smiles when they reached the bottom. The basement still shrouded in darkness, another light switch was visible on a post just a few feet away. Jeremy flipped it up and several rows of stringed light bulbs covering the basement’s twelve-foot ceiling sprang to life. A cement floor stretched a few hundred feet in any direction. Windowless, earthen walls extended beyond the original foundation, and it appeared this open room was the only one below the house.

  Other than support posts and additional steel crossbeams, the basement seemed Spartan in its furnishings. In the far right corner sat a sofa and TV, near a large antique desk. Jack soon recognized it as the one Oscar Mensch told him about from his hospital bed. In the center of the room sat a circle of eight card tables. Spaced several lengths apart from one another, the tables’ circumference took up roughly eighty feet. In the circle’s midst sat another table, and on each of the nine tables sat large wooden crates.

  Piecing together the admonitions he received from Dr. Mensch, both while alive and from his dream a short while ago, Jack moved up to the circle. The musty smell grew stronger.