Prologue

The sirens blared at full capacity as the cop cars sped down Walker Street.

Deputy Halden pressed his right foot onto the gas pedal harder, and the car’s engine revved violently. These were the cases that broke even the hardest men down, and he knew that this one would be no different. He sighed as his partner placed a hand on his shoulder, they had to stay as calm as possible, and Halden knew it.

He stopped the car once they reached the address the dispatcher had given them. This was it, and there was no going back. With one hand on his gun and the other on his walkie talkie, he advanced towards the beaten down door. A man was being dragged out in cuffs, and hurtling crude words towards the officers restraining him, and Halden had to suck in a deep breath to keep from losing his cool. Officers were lining the streets, and residents were clamoring out of their houses to see what was going on in their quiet neighborhood. Halden told a few of them to remain on their own property and to await further instructions. As he ducked under the neon yellow tape, he saw that a little boy was being carried out and his heart stopped. He couldn’t have been more than ten years of age.

The boy’s black hair had been caked in dried blood, as well as fresh blood. Fickle strands matted to his bruised forehead, and his ankle was disfigured in a way that made him sick to his stomach.

What made matters worse, was the glimpse he had of the child’s back. The rage that he had tried so desperately to push down, resurfaced at full force, and he swallowed harshly before turning to face the officer carrying him.

“Take him to the ambulance, get his ankle checked out, and report back to me. Understood?” He barked the order, and made his way inside of the home.

The atmosphere was somber as he entered the completely destroyed living room to see a smaller woman in handcuffs arguing with the police officer in front of her. Her hair matched that of the little boy. Deputy Halden’s blood ran cold when he heard the woman defending the man that was dragged out in cuffs, instead of her own child.

She looked as if she were strung out on some drug, and the scratching at her arms only confirmed his theory further. He couldn’t stand to be near them any longer and made his way to the basement. The smell of blood, and other bodily fluids coated his nostrils, and to his horror, the basement was worse than the living room, far worse.