The Foundlings: Book One of the Urban Fantasy Paranormal Vampire Series, The Foundlings

by R. M. Garcia

  “What happened here?” Nox said.

  “I don’t know,” Donnie said and started walking toward the warehouse. He could see a few figures moving about near the entrance. As they got closer, Donnie could make out one of them clearly.

  “Father Dom!” Donnie called out. Father Dominick looked at Donnie and began marching toward him. He reached the trio and reached into the folds of his robes.

  “You bring vampires here?” Father Dominick asked.

  “They are with us, Father Dom. What happened?” Donnie was still in shock at the amount of body parts strewn about.

  “The Reich,” Father Dominick said. “They hit us a little while ago.”

  “No . . . ” Donnie said and looked around at the bodies looking for Father Benny.

  “It was glorious!” Father Dominick said. “There must have been a thousand of them.” Espee started looking around nervously.

  “Glorious?” Nox asked. “I see at least a hundred bodies.”

  “Yes, Glorious! Less than fifty of them made it out of the warehouse,” Father Dom said. “We made them pay dearly for their treachery.”

  “Did you say ‘treachery’?” Espee asked.

  “Yes, they sent a note, hoping to parlay and then attacked us anyway,” Father Dominick explained.

  “Where are Lazarus and Father Benitez?” Donnie asked.

  “They went after Gestapo,” Father Dominick replied.

  “No, we were supposed to go together!” Donnie said in anger.

  “There’s still time,” Father Dominick said. “There are only a handful of us left here now, delivering final rights. I’m ready when you are.”

  “Let me suit up,” Donnie said. Father Dom smiled when he spotted the chest, turned around, and escorted them inside the warehouse. The scene of carnage on the outside was nothing compared to what awaited them inside. There were rows of bodies lining the walls. Espee and Nox looked away as there were crosses everywhere.

  “We better wait outside,” Espee said. Donnie nodded, and she and Nox went outside to wait.

  “This is terrible,” Donnie whispered softly, “so many dead.”

  “Don’t worry,” Father Dom placed a hand on his shoulder. “They are with God now.”

  “How did this happen?” Donnie asked. “Didn’t you take precautions?”

  “We did, but they threw such a large number at us, they got in easily,” Father Dominick replied. Donnie opened his chest and began getting dressed. Father Dominick walked over and took a look at him.

  “It suits you, son,” Father Dominick said, admiring the garb. “I think you wear it better than your father did.”

  “Thanks,” Donnie said. “One last piece.” Donnie reached in and grabbed the chain he had grabbed from the roof and latched it around his waist.

  “I don’t remember that as part of your father’s gear, what is it?” Father Dominick asked, pointing at the belt chain.

  “A reminder,” Donnie replied and started to close the chest.

  “Wait,” Father Dom said. “Can I have the hat? I always liked it.”

  “Sure, I think it will suit you well,” Donnie replied.

  “Wait out front. I will get the car,” Father Dominick said excitedly. Donnie walked out front and met up with Espee and Nox.

  “Well, aren’t we all bad in black,” Espee said.

  “I feel underdressed now,” Nox said.

  “Are you still in?” Donnie asked. “Last chance to bail.”

  “No way,” Espee said. “I’m with you.”

  “Where she goes, I follow,” Nox said. Father Dominick pulled up in an old Cadillac, and everyone got in. He had the most confident smile on his face, and the hat really did look excellent on him.

  “Time for holy retribution,” Father Dominick said and started driving toward One Shell Square.

  Lazarus and Father Benitez had broken through the Reich’s front lines and were making their way through the building. The elevators had been disabled so they were forced to make their way up the stairwell. Unfortunately, the stairwell was a veritable kill-zone. The Reich had the high ground and had an easy time, making it extremely difficult for anyone to move upward. Father Benitez already had a large gash across his abdomen from the initial ambush at the warehouse. “Are you all right, old friend?” Lazarus asked as he pulled back on a bow made of fire and loosed an arrow made out of the same white-hot flames.

  “It will take a lot more than a small cut to stop me,” Father Benitez replied. Lazarus pulled back on the bow again and another arrow formed. He loosed it; it struck a Reich and incinerated him.

  “I will never tire of seeing you do that,” Father Benitez said.

  “Faithfire,” Lazarus replied. “The bane to everything wicked.” They continued making their way into the building’s interior and were quickly leaving a trail of destroyed vampires behind them. Whenever an enemy would get close, Lazarus would morph his Faithfire into a sword. It’s white-hot kiss left nothing it touched un-singed. Father Benitez’s choice of weapons was a pair of axes that had been coated in martyr’s blood. This along with razor-sharp edges made them especially deadly. The Reich knew to keep their distance from The Order at all costs. Any close combat usually ended in severed heads or limbs. The Reich’s strategy here consisted of tossing grenades and spraying them with bullets. Lazarus would use his Faithfire and shape it into a shield and stop most of the attacks. The shield did little to stop the shockwaves the explosives were causing. They were taking their toll on Father Benitez as explosion after explosion kept assailing the pair.

  “I can’t take much more!” Father Benitez cried out. “You need to leave me. I’m only slowing you down. I’ll turn back.” Lazarus looked at Father Benitez and could see that his robes had been shredded by the constant shrapnel, and blood was flowing from several punctures.

  “Be safe, my friend, and pray this day shall be ours,” Lazarus said and charged headlong into a barricade. Father Benitez could hear panicked German shrieks from the stairwell above him.

  “Go with God, my old friend,” Father Benitez said and turned around. When he reached the bottom floor, to his surprise, there were five armed Reich vampires standing between him and the exit. They had flanked him by using a secret passage, a sliding door that he could now see. They smiled baring their fangs and opened fire with submachine guns. “Dios mio.” Lazarus heard the gunfire behind him and closed his eyes in sadness. He wanted to go back, but he knew that he needed to press on.

  “May God have mercy on your soul, my dear friend,” Lazarus said as he redoubled his efforts and summoned a second Faithfire sword. The Reich before him fell by the dozens. He moved up floor by floor, clearing it of any opposition. Bullets, grenades, and even the occasional mine did little to stop Lazarus’s relentless ascent.

  After what seemed an eternity and countless minions destroyed, Lazarus had reached the top floor of this fifty-story building. He pushed the large ornate marble doors open and walked in. He could see Gestapo sitting on a throne made out of marble and gold. The rest of the room was kept intentionally dark. The only light source was a chandelier that was suspended high above Gestapo. “Welcome,” Gestapo said. “I am pleased you made it this far, now burn!” Anna and Frieda each pulled the triggers on the flamethrowers strapped to their backs and let loose a pair of fiery jets. The streams of liquid fire struck Lazarus and engulfed him in an inferno. Gestapo laughed maniacally as the fire continued to pour onto Lazarus.

  CHAPTER 45

  The End Game

  FATHER DOMINICK PUT the fear of God into everyone riding in the Cadillac. His driving was erratic and haphazard. A quick glance in the rearview mirror gave him an immense sense of gratifications. Espee was the first to jump out of the car when they arrived at the designated address. “Are you OK, Espee?” Donnie asked. She actually looked sick.

  “If I could throw up, I think I would right about now,” she replied and dry-heaved a few times. She could count on her finger the number of decades s
ince she had ridden in any wagon, much less a car. Nox moved to her and gently rubbed her back. Donnie looked up at the building they had driven to. One Shell Square was a large fifty-story building; its white exterior cynically concealing the darkness it contained within. Donnie got out of the car and looked around. The area was devoid of any people. The entire block seemed to have been simply abandoned, and even traffic seemed to be avoiding the area.

  “How many left?” Father Dominick asked. “Can you tell?” Donnie closed his eyes and concentrated.

  “Just over one hundred.” Less than an hour ago, he had sensed so many, and now there was just a handful left. Donnie was impressed that the Order had dispatched so many, even though the cost was high.

  “Yes!” Father Dominick cried out. “They left us scraps, but I’ll take whatever the Lord places before me.” Father Dominick began walking up the steps, but Donnie paused for a moment.

  “I sense him.”

  “Who do you sense?” Espee had regained her composure and joined Donnie.

  “Gestapo,” he replied. “It’s overpowering. It feels like I’m drowning in syrup that tastes like crap.”

  Father Dominick laughed and said, “I have never heard a better description for these spawns of evil.” He looked at Nox and Espee. “Present company excluded of course.”

  “Of course,” Espee replied dryly. They began moving up the steps together.

  “So, Father Dominick, why have I never come across this Order of the Second Life before?” Espee asked.

  “We don’t hunt after Foundlings.” Father Dominick continued moving with deadly intent.

  “You don’t?” Nox asked surprised.

  “Our Order believes in taking out the cause and not the effect,” Father Dominick replied. “Foundlings are victims. It would be no different than stoning a woman who had been raped for being unfaithful to her husband.”

  “Well, that makes me feel all warm and fuzzy,” Espee replied. “Glad I’m not on the hit list.”

  “You should be glad, Ms. Alonso,” Father Dominick replied. “Although we don’t hunt you, we do monitor you.” Espee was momentarily shocked by his comments. How long had the Order known about her, how much did they actually know about her, about her past? They reached the interior of the building, and were disquieted to find Father Benitez lying against a wall. He was sitting in a pool of his own blood. Father Dominick and Donnie rushed to his side.

  “Father Benny!” Donnie cried out as he reached the priest he had known his entire life and knelt down beside him.

  “Rodrigo,” Father Dominick said quietly and checked him for a pulse. He shook his head when there was none. “He’s with the Lord now.” Donnie closed his eyes and visibly shook.

  “Donnie?” Espee asked as she and Nox got closer. Father Dominick reached over and grabbed Donnie’s head and turned his face and made him look at him.

  “Use it! Drive the anger down, and let it fill you with righteous fury!” Father Dominick’s intensity was unquestionable. “Then release it upon your enemies.” Donnie nodded quietly. Father Dominick performed a quick prayer over Father Benitez’s body and then stood up and walked over to the stairwells. Donnie said his own silent prayer over Father Benny, a man that had meant a great deal to him, and who was now gone.

  “They can’t hurt him anymore,” Espee said as she placed a hand on his shoulder.

  “There are two stairwells going up, and the power to the elevator is turned off,” Father Dominick informed. “I suggest we split up into two groups and each take a stairwell.”

  “Should we split up?” Espee’s natural instinct told her to stay together.

  “No, but they might not expect a two-pronged attack,” he replied. “You three go up one, and I’ll take the other.”

  “Father Dom, you shouldn’t go alone,” Donnie urged.

  “I work better alone.” Father Dominick smiled. “Besides, I don’t think fighting along a vampire would be a good idea.” He removed his robes to reveal an outfit similar to Donnie’s with one obvious exception.

  “Crosses,” Espee said and turned her head away. Father Dominick’s suit was embedded with dozens of crosses.

  “Race you to the top!” he said and grabbed both of Father Benny’s axes. With a hearty ha-ha, he ran up the left stairwell. “Make ready spawns of Satan! The hammer of righteousness is upon you!”

  On the top floor, the torrent of flames that had engulfed Lazarus continued to burn, and Frieda and Anna joined Gestapo in his laughter. “Fool,” Lazarus said as he fired an arrow of sheer Faithfire toward Gestapo.

  “My Führer, watch out!” Anna cried as she watched the arrow fly unerringly toward Gestapo’s heart. He managed to move at the last moment narrowly dodging the projectile.

  “How is this possible?” Gestapo yelled as Lazarus walked out of the flames completely unscathed, only his clothing bore the scars of the inferno.

  “When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee, and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee: when thou walkest through the fire, thou shalt not be burned, neither shall the flame kindle upon thee,” Lazarus replied. “Isaiah 43:2, as long as I have the Lord in my heart, no flame may harm me.”

  “Oh, scheisse,” Frieda said and backed up into the shadows. Anna followed her lead and dropped her blowtorch and backed up next to Gestapo.

  “I see the legend of your battle with the Marked One, inside a volcano appears to have some truth to it,” Gestapo said. “I guess we do this the hard way.” Gestapo began walking toward Lazarus, and his skin turned a dark marble-like shade. Lazarus summoned a sword and shield made out of Faithfire and began running toward Gestapo.

  “Time to end your evil once and for all,” Lazarus said and took a swing with his sword. Gestapo moved under the swing and delivered a kick to Lazarus’s chin. The blow propelled him backward. While still in midair, Lazarus hurled his sword at Gestapo, and it struck him in the arm. Gestapo’s arm caught fire and began to burn. Gestapo didn’t pause and continued advancing forward. He struck Lazarus several more times with thunderous stoned fists. Lazarus raised his shield to try and stop the blows, but the shield did little to stop Gestapo’s powerful blows. Gestapo finished his merciless barrage with a bone-crushing kick that slid Lazarus across the floor until he hit a pillar.

  “As you can see, my die Mauer can withstand the hottest of flames as well, holy or not.” Gestapo smiled sadistically as Lazarus stood up and quickly healed his wounds.

  “I have other weapons at my disposal,” Lazarus said as he began to walk toward Gestapo once again, he forged a two-handed sword made out of Faithfire. This time, the fire was so hot and bright that half the room was lit. “I am the weapon meant for your destruction.”

  “Is that so?” Gestapo replied as he walked next to a pillar. “Then why has not even one Source ever been destroyed by your hand? I mean, if you are meant to destroy us?”

  “I have killed countless vampires,” Lazarus replied as he maneuvered into an attack position.

  “Yet our numbers still grow,” Gestapo replied. “Our power and influence surges. What have you truly done to stop us? In truth, you have done nothing.”

  “I am here and now.” Lazarus prepared himself. “And I will destroy you.”

  “I know a lot about you, Lazarus,” Gestapo said. “What I cannot figure out is why you continue to fight us.”

  “It is my divine duty,” Lazarus replied, “an order by God.”

  “Ordered?” Gestapo asked. “You mean you weren’t given a choice? I was given a choice. Hmm hardly seems fair.” Lazarus’s sword began to flicker.

  “Your snake-tongued rhetoric will not save you.” Lazarus continued moving forward. “It is my job to fight your evil.”

  Gestapo looked at his opponent and could see his plan working. “A job, which you have conveniently forgotten to do, for the last eighteen hundred years,” he replied sarcastically. “So I have asked myself many times, when exactly did you stop trying?”

&
nbsp; “My Order . . .”

  “You r Order means nothing!” Gestapo yelled. “Lambs of God, fed to hungry wolves. Admit it. The sole purpose of the Order was to give you a place to hide. In one night, I have decimated your numbers.” Lazarus’s sword visibly dimmed once more.

  “There will be others who will join the battle!” Lazarus roared in contempt.

  “We have claimed hundreds of thousands of souls.” Gestapo strolled around the massive stone pillar and emerged on the other side, obviously trying to stay out of the reach of the sword. “How many more will you hand over to us?” Lazarus’s sword began to shrink like a fire starving for air.

  “I cannot resign,” Lazarus replied. “I must endure.”

  “You have already resigned, Lazarus, a long time ago,” Gestapo pointed out. “What I want to know is, did it happen when you were forced to kill your older sister or the youngest?” Lazarus’s sword flickered once again and fell in size once more.

  “Curse you for bringing up such dreadful memories.” Lazarus lowered the sword slightly. “It was the Marked One who took them from me and defiled them and made them into one of your filthy kind.”

  “Don’t blame us,” Gestapo replied. “We were not the ones who brought you into the war. It was you who chose to . . . oh wait, you did not get a choice did you? My Dark Lord has given me choice. I chose the power, and I could not be happier. What did your Lord give you?”

  “Stop it!” Lazarus’s Faithfire sword began to struggle to burn once again.

  “He gave you two thousand years of guilt and suffering and made you kill your own flesh and blood.” Gestapo sneered. “While I got to keep my loved one at my side. So tell me, Lazarus of Bethany, whose Lord is grander, whose Lord truly loves us?” Lazarus lowered his head and arms as the Faithfire sword simply vanished.

  “I . . .”

  Gestapo suddenly grabbed the pillar he was standing next to and ripped it off its floor and ceiling mounts and viciously smashed it over Lazarus’s head, crushing him under the massive weight of the marble pillar. For good measure, Gestapo brought the weight of the pillar upon Lazarus twice more. Lazarus lay crushed and nearly flat. He looked up at Gestapo and desperately concentrated on healing his body.