Chapter Two: “Golden Arches”
Thirty-six hours before, Josephine watched through her binoculars the homeless man searching through the trash can. He had a bald spot, but it was hard to tell with the dirt covering the man in big blotches all over his body. He grinned, exposing that his two front teeth were missing, as he retrieved a half-eaten burger wrapped in a blue and yellow paper with the words, “Golden Arches” printed in cursive.
“God, what I’d give to have one of those right now,” said Josephine under her breath. Her stomach grumbled.
She pulled away her binoculars and leaned back on the small building that held a generator. She took out a candy bar and began eating. It was early in the morning. Usually vampires by this time would hide in a basement or some dark place sleeping.
However, sometimes at this time of day, there was not enough sunlight to hurt a vampire if they were quick, covered themselves or even had on a really good sunblock. She chuckled at the last part. Sunblock didn’t work, but some movies ran with it.
“And that poor man is going to be someone’s breakfast, “ she said to herself softly.
She should do something. She should kill the vampire whom she had seen stalking the homeless man from the shadows of the apartment complex. Unconsciously, she reached into her pockets of her jacket and felt the handles of her trusty pistol in their holsters. She shook her head. No, that part of her life was long gone.
She no longer hunted the creatures that stalked the night. No longer served the Order to protect the innocence. Now she hunted a different kind of creature.
She turned into the direction to a pointed rooftop of a church. Her family were antique dealers and recognizing pricey old things was natural for her. A smile curled as her eyes gazed at the exquisite stained glass windows that lined the side of the church. Even at the distance she was at and without the aid of her binoculars, she could clearly see the multiple colors reflecting off old stained glass. By her estimation, the glass had to be a little over a hundred years and would fetch easily six figures.
She sighed. Too bad those stained glass windows were part of a church that housed her target.
Her teeth clenched. Her eyes narrowed. After all the time she spent tracking the motherfucker, he was finally within her grasp once more. Now all she has to do is pick the right moment to make her move.
Speaking of the right moment. She took her binoculars and turned back to the homeless man. The man had just finished eating the burger when a dark shadow grabbed him and pulled him into an alleyway. There were no screams or sounds of thrashing.
She shrugged. It was too late to act. The homeless man was now that vampire’s breakfast. Perhaps she felt a tinge of guilt, but not really. She looked at her watch and nodded. It was now, or she will have to wait for months for the next opportunity.
***
The doorknob rattled a few seconds before finally clicking and the door opened. A wizen man draped in a black robe of a priest entered the room. He was humming a song he couldn’t get out of his head.
The light from the hall spilled into the room. Books and papers were on the ground, a few chairs overturned and all the drawers in his desk were opened. He switched on the light and saw even more devastation.
“What in the Holy Father?“ he blurted, his English accent strong. Did someone rob them? He couldn’t believe that. There was nothing valuable in the room worth selling in the streets.
He took a step in.
Bang!
The door behind him closed. He snapped around and came to face a tall woman, a little over six foot, in a hooded jacket. The shadow of her hood obscured her face but he could see threads of golden hair and her sapphire colored eyes. “Who are you? Why did you steal from the church?” he demanded.
“You’re late, Father George. I was about to leave,“ said the woman.
Father George recoiled at the immediate recognition of the voice. “Josephine?”
“In the flesh,“ said Josephine. She took a step forward and pulled down her hood. If she were a vampire, she’d be baring her fangs. Instead, she pulled back her jacket to reveal two pistols in their hostlers. "Tricking those vampires in London to come after me was a waste. Their master was not pleased his bloodlings were being used by the Order.”
“I couldn’t risk any more lives on you,“ spat Father George. He looked at the corner of the shadows. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead. He gripped the hanging cross on his necklace.
“For Christ’s sake,” said Josephine, noticing where his eyes were looking. “Don’t be stupid! I didn’t stash those vampires in here. I killed them all.”
“Then what? If you’re not with them then why? Why against the very Order that is in your veins, your bloodline?“ said Father George. His face was now slick with sweat.
“You know damn well why,” snapped Josephine. She placed a hand on one of her holsters. She will make this quick despite her wanting to torture the priest before killing him.
“Don’t,“ pleaded Father George. He started to back away, thinking of any way out of his situation. Was it hopeless?
"Don’t what? Kill you?” Josephine pulled out one of her guns. This gun had a particularly large and long barrel. “Make your prayer.”
Father George suddenly relaxed and placed a hand over his heart. He looked at her straight in the eye and spoke, “I forgive you.”
“Go to Hell.“ Josephine pulled the trigger.
There was no sound, but there was a puff of white smoke at the mouth of the gun where a bullet had shot out.
Father George snapped back into a chair behind him and then slumped in an awkward sitting position. At first there was just a hole in the middle of his forehead but then, in a blink, blood started flowing out.
Josephine holstered her gun. "Now let’s see if he has it on his body.”
She checked the dead priest’s pockets and found nothing. She frowned as she started patting down his robe for some secret compartment in his clothes. Nothing.
Then her eyes saw the cross that the priest had gripped earlier. She yanked the cross off from the simple chain and examined it. Then her eyes narrowed as she flipped the cross and saw the blinking red led light.
“Fucking asshole.“
Josephine dashed behind a nearby bookcase and hunkered down.
The rounds of bullets pierced through the door in a barrage of holes. Books, papers and even bits of the heavy desk flew. A grey gun-powdered smoke filled the room. When the door opened up, it fell out of its hinges in a heavy thud.
“Still alive?” called out a deep voice.
Josephine grimaced as she looked over to where Father George was slumped in. He was now looking like grounded meat. Half of his face and parts of his torso was on the floor in fine pieces.
“Coming in then!“
A large, built, dark man dressed in a long black coat came in with an automatic rifle at this hip. He looked around scanning for her, ignoring the dead priest. "I know you are still here,” he bellowed. He noticed the bookcase had not been touched and his lips twitched slightly. He lifted his rifle at it.
“Can you just let me go this one time for old time's sake?“ called out Josephine as she took out her shorter barrelled gun and cocked it. The silencer one would not do well against a man with a semi-automatic.
The man lowered his rifle momentarily. “I cannot allow you to leave. The Order commanded capturing you alive but,” the man hesitated. “ I prefer you dead.”
Josephine smiled. She didn’t expect any less from him. Charles was his name, and they had been hunting buddies for a short period when she had come into the Order eight years ago. “Well, since you want to kill me so bad how about we take it outside?” she said.
“Do you expect me to just let you walk out here and we shoot each other to death?“ scoffed Charles.
“Yeah, sorta. I was actually going to dance my way out. Game?” she called out. She remembered the stained glass windows and found one near to her.
“You’re full of shit–“
Taking as a cue, Josephine dashed toward the stained glass window. In the corner of her eyes, she saw Charles lift his rifle. She jumped at the stained window the moment he fired.
Bullets sprayed and a few of them caught Josephine in her right shoulder and left calf as she smashed into the window. Instinctively, she rolled onto the concrete pavement and got onto her feet. Behind her, she could hear Charles howling out a curse. Adrenaline pumping in her veins, she barely registered her wounds as she ran.
Where to? She banked hard around the corner. She couldn’t be seen. Too many witnesses and she may have a problem. She looked up ahead and saw the building she had been using to scope out the church. “Rooftop it is,” she said under her breath. At least she could make Charles death seem like an accident.
The sound of a revving engine had her looking back. Her eyes narrowed as she saw Charles on a motorcycle coming at her. His bald head gleamed under the light like a miniature halo.
“Goddamn,“ she cursed as she sprinted toward the alleyway that bordered the building.
When she arrived, she found the rope she had used to climb down.
Then it came.
It wasn’t often but always, if her life was to end, it came unannounced. It came like a shadowy hand that sucked her out of where she was and into a dark room with only a rectangle of light in front of her. In that light she would watch what would happen.
And what will happen is that Charles would enter the alleyway and stop in front of the rope as she was nearing the ledge of the building. He’d then take out his rifle and shoot. She watched herself get hit and fall off the rope. Then she died, sprawled on the floor of the alleyway, with Charles praying over her body.
“That was a really stupid plan,” she said to herself as she snapped back into the present. She took a step back from the rope. Time was short and she could no longer go with her initial plan of going to the rooftop and battle Charles there. Then what? she thought. Run? No, he’ll catch up. I have to hide.
She looked over and caught a pile of trash. She closed her eyes tight and had to fight the urge to hurl at the thought of hiding in there. Yeah he’d definitely wouldn’t think I’d be there, she thought. The sound of the motorcycle was getting louder, so she quickly dove into the pile of trash.
Josephine had barely enough time to cover any exposed area with whatever trash she could get her hands on and lower her breath when Charles appeared in front of the alleyway, stopping at the entrance. She watched him put his motorcycle on its stand and got off and entered the alleyway. He looked around before approaching the slightly swinging rope. Then he stopped in front of the rope and tugged on it. For a moment, he was still. Was Charles contemplating if this was a trap or perhaps a foolish mistake she had made?
The thought of pulling out her gun and shooting him crossed Josephine’s mind but, now feeling the bullet wounds in her right shoulder and left calf, she would not be fast enough against his semi-automatic rifle. She needed to keep hiding and then... she watched Charles start to climb up the rope with one arm holding his rifle.
Josephine's eyes then wandered down to the motorcycle where she caught the gleam of keys. She had to stop herself from laughing. Charles had left his keys in his motorcycle! What an idiot, she thought. She waited until she could see Charles go over the building’s ledge and out of sight.
Not wasting another moment, she burst out of the trash and ran, now with a limp, to the motorcycle. She hopped on it and immediately drove off as fast as she could. She did not look back upon hearing the fire-crackling sound of an automatic rifle going off behind her.
***
It was getting dark when Josephine finally parked. She had been driving through the city aimlessly hoping to confuse Charles and whoever the Order had sent to hunt her down. She only stopped momentarily to bind her two bullet wounds in makeshift tourniquets before continuing with her aimlessness.
Despite that, her wounds still bleed—albeit much slower—as she looked into the rearview mirror of her motorcycle. A large, dark red spot had spread over her shoulder. She didn’t bother to look down as she was sure the lower part of her left leg was drenched with dark blood.
The pain was manageable then, but now it was like a roaring fire. Damn it to hell, she cursed to herself. She looked up at the very recognizable large yellow arch over a white building with a blue roof.
This was a Golden Arches, a fast food burger joint. Usually, when she was with the Order, she’d go to a church and heal. However, since she had left, she had to make do with this place.
Lots has changed since the beginning of the Order. In the past it was just a ragtag of different organizations around the world, each calling themselves “Hunters” and fighting the evils of the night. Then a near world ending incident had the Vatican consolidate most of the organizations into one known entity as the Vatican’s Order of the Hunters or the Order for short.
Such consolidation prompted the sharing of ideas. One particular idea was to have other sanctuaries for its soldiers that wasn’t so obvious to their enemies to know. So it came to be that the Vatican offered blessings, particularly newly built buildings, in the guise as a kind of heavenly good luck. In reality, they were to become sanctuaries for hunters like herself to heal and recuperate.
This Golden Arches she chose on purpose as her recovery site. After all, she knew who had blessed it. A smile spread across her face. She had killed him this morning.
She got off of the motorcycle and limped toward the back. She stopped and hid in the shadows when the backdoor opened up. A dark-haired, olive skinned woman wearing the blue and white uniform came out with a bag of trash. She watched the dark-haired woman throw the trash bag and then cursed as the trash bag landed on the ledge of the garbage bin. The dark-haired woman then kicked the garbage bin only to have the trash bag fall off the garbage bin and onto the ground. The woman shrugged and then went back inside into the fast food building.
Josephine hadn’t seen that worker before. She must be new. She moved out of the shadows and toward the back door. She rummaged in the hidden pocket of her jacket for a key, grimacing as she felt a new burst of pain from her right shoulder.
Once she found the key, she unlocked the door and entered. She quickly turned right into a small enclave where a boxed fire extinguishing was hidden away. She peeked out from the enclave just in time to see the dark-haired woman conversing with a man who was wearing a solid blue polo-shirt and white pants. By the uniform on the man, she recognized him as the manager of the Golden Arches.
“I know this is just your first week and I don’t expect you to remember all the items on the menu, however…,“ said the manager.
Josephine shut her mind off from the conversation as a wave of pain emanating from her calf nearly knocked her into a blackout. She had to go to the restroom quickly or else the employees of Golden Arches may find her passed out here.
Silently, she slipped out of the enclave.
Nobody seemed to notice her. This was the high time for demand for their burgers and the manager was still conversing with the new employee which she noted was the same one she saw earlier taking out trash. She continued onward, quietly going through the aisle way and around the kitchen toward the restroom area.
Along the way she picked up an “Out of Order” sign on a counter before putting it on the handle of one of the restrooms she had prepped before. Once inside, she aptly locked it. This particular restroom she had chosen due to the lack of traffic and not often preoccupied due to its awkward position near the kitchen.
However, if there was anybody in here at this moment, she’d have to take them out. She quickly hobbled around with a hand on her silencer and debated whether to shoot or just knock anybody she found. She finally let out a sigh of relief when she confirmed no one was around.
Josephine then went to the sink and turned the hot and cold knobs in a certain sequence until she heard a click. She grinned as the mirror above the sink opened up.
When she had been scoping the city and chosen this place as her safe house, she had secretly installed this secret compartment. It was no easy feat as she had to bribe some schmuck contractor to come into this facility under the lie of updating the plumbing.Then she made sure the contractor could not tell anyone about this when the job was done.
She found her medical kit and a water bottle next to some spare clothes before shutting the mirror. Slowly, she undid the tourniquets, biting down a groan as her right shoulder and left calf throbbed. She was not worried she’d bleed to death and was sure that the bleeding had stopped the moment she entered the fast-food joint. She then removed her jacket and the clothes underneath, leaving her bra and underwear on. She tossed them to the wall behind her, guns in holsters and all, without any care.
Josephine, with her hands on the sink, saw in the mirror herself. She made a face as she noticed her blonde hair looked like a wet shaggy dog. Even the hair tattoo of three arrows, her family crest, over her under shave glistened from her sweat.
Then her eyes wandered over to her shoulder where the bullet wound had stopped bleeding but there was an ugly mixture of puss and dried blood. She looked backward and down to see the same thing with her left calf.
“Nothing that holy water couldn’t fix,“ she grumbled to herself.
She opened up her medical kit and began treating her wounds. She took out some clean rags and opened up the water bottle. Carelessly, she splashed them onto her wounds. Her wounds made a hissing sound, and she wiped away the dried blood and puss with the rags.
As Josephine wiped more and more of the puss and dried blood, she could see her wounds beginning to close up. An hour later, two bullets popped out. Then her wounds fully healed leaving behind two scars.
That was one of the gifts of an ordained hunter or “Ordained” as they were called within the Order.
She couldn’t recall exactly how this came to be, but she knew the reasoning. As the spawns of evil became increasingly more dangerous, there was a need for hunters to be on par with them. Each Ordained was given a special blessing that granted them various supernatural abilities. Enhanced healing was one of them, but only if they were at a holy site or drink holy water.
As great as that sounds, the enhanced healing has its drawbacks. It wasn’t like a werewolf’s near instantaneous healing when they shifted into their beast form or the vampire’s perfect healing that left no scars. On her body were scars from previous wounds she had gotten. Some were minor nicks, and some were large, nearly death-ending types of wounds. There was one particular one she had across her well defined six-pack abs.
A werewolf, the largest she had ever seen that towered about nine feet, had given her that. If it wasn’t for a friend, she would probably be that werewolf’s meal. Another scar, not life threatening, but it was meaningful as it was her first scar as an official Hunter. She traced the faded scar over the ridge of her nose.
Suddenly, she was tired. That was the second and main drawback with the healing. This healing gift always took a toll on one’s body, leaving one to vulnerability. Something that the creatures of the night took to their advantage and many Ordained before her fell.
She moved to the back wall and leaned on it, sliding down until she was sitting next to her clothes. She closed her eyes and slept. How long did she sleep she didn’t know, but the hard knock had her eyes fluttering open and her hands reaching for her guns that were still in their holsters.
"Hey, yeah, I know this isn’t out of order. I cleaned it last evening. So,” said a voice from behind the door. There was an incoherent grumble. “I can smell you through the door and I know you need a place to sleep and all being homeless. Look, this is the first week for me, so I shouldn’t be doing this but I will keep the sign until the end of breakfast. After that, you have to leave.”
There was an awkward silence. Josephine was not sure what to do. Then she sniffed her forearm and scrunched up her nose. Apparently, her time in the trash pile had gifted her with its smell.
“Okay,“ said the voice, breaking the silence. "I’ll take that as a yes. Remember, end of breakfast.”
Josephine could hear the footsteps fade away. She let out a sigh of relief. She recognized the voice belonging to that new employee who also seemed to think she was a homeless person.
At least she was decent enough to leave me be for the moment, she thought. Feeling much more rejuvenated, Josephine got up and went back to the mirror. She repeated the sequence and opened up the mirror once more. There she started to clean up. Once done, she put on her spare clothes and she wore her Golden Warriors jacket she had hidden behind the mirror as well.
At first she was going to put on her holster, but she found a note in her pockets. It read, “Please, just have fun and relaxed when you can.” She recognized the curvy handwriting belonging to her good friend.
“I should, shouldn’t I?“ she said to herself. After all, she took down one of the men and women responsible for her father’s demise. It had been months in the making, and she finally did it.
She nodded. She deserves a bit of peace before she moves to her next target. Hopefully, this down time will also cool down her trail and confuse Charles and whatever pursers the Order may have sent.
She put away her guns behind the mirror. She will retrieve them later. Her stomach growled, and she patted it. “Right on time,” she said.
Josephine, after cleaning up any dried blood or stains that would show her presence, exited the bathroom. Her mouth watered as she entered the dining room. A line had formed, and she saw the new employee helming the ordering as if she always belonged at the fast-food joint.
The hunter smirked as she got into line. Now that daylight was filling the Golden Arches, and she wasn’t preoccupied with her wounds, she could see that the new employee was cute despite the uniform. She licked her lips. Perhaps even fun.
Josephine waited until it was her turn at the counter.
“Welcome to the Golden Arches! Happily serving over one billion customers. What would you like to order today?“ said the new employee, sunlight bouncing off of her silver small plate name tag.
Josephine read the name tag on the new employee. “Leora.”
“Yes,“ drawled Leora. “That is my name. Okay, so, m’am, what would you like to order?”
“I think I will go with the number one meal. Yes, make it extra and, uh, could I get you to go out for an evening with me?“ said Josephine.
“Gotcha, one number one meal. Extra. What was the other part?” said Leora as she was typing in the order cash register.
“Uh,“ Josephine cleared her throat. Usually that worked. “I said if you wanted to go out tonight?”
Leora looked up from the cash register. “Oh, Ohhhhhhh. Huh, I, ah–”
“That’s a yes,“ said the manager who swooped in out of nowhere.
“What?” said Leora. Her dark eyes went wide.
“Don’t worry, I have you penciled out for the evening. You are doing such a good job right now I was already giving you this evening off. Besides, she’s hot,“ said the manager who nudged Leora with a mischievous grin.
“So?” smiled Josephine and gave a thankful nod at the manager.
“Um, yeah.“ said Leora.
“Good, you got a pen? You’ll need my number,” said Josephine.
The manager pulled out his pen and took a napkin from a nearby pile. He placed them in front of Leora. “I’ll just leave these two here,” he said before winking at Leora once more and then going off to the drive-through window where a worker needed his help.
“Okay, yeah,“ said Leora with a deep breath. She pushed the pen and napkin to Josephine.
Josephine jotted down her number but realized she also had to give a name. She couldn’t give her real name. Just in case, maybe, Leora happened to know someone in the Order. Though she doubted it. Mostly.
“Hmm, sorry, uh, I think people are getting anxious,” said Leora in an awkward smile.
Perhaps her subconscious mind was still lingering on her last kill, but she wrote, “Georgie.” She pushed the pen and napkin back to Leora. “Call me with a time and I’ll give a place,” she winked.
“Okay, Georgie,“ nodded Leora.
With that, they sealed their fate for that evening.
Chapter 3 - Eternity