From behind the car door, a pair of black leather shoes could be seen stepping out of the car, followed by the silver tip of a walking cane, clinking as it tapped down on the asphalt. Then a feeble body struggled to follow its feet out of the car. A fedora hat on top of a hunched figure poked above the door, and then finally, the figure stood straight, showing his old frail face, whose stern expression appeared frozen in the chilling air.
"What is the meaning of this?" Quinlan raged.
The old man closed the door and approached Quinlan. "I'm sorry but this was the only way to get your attention. It seems like getting a word with you is difficult these days."
From inside the car, Malaika heard what she thought was a familiar voice. She crawled into the back seat and kneeled beside Mia, looking out the back window. She wiped the fog with her sleeve and made a small clearing on the misty window, then pressed her face to the glass. She could see Quinlan standing directly behind the car, and in front of him was a figure that aroused a sense of familiarity. Malaika stared at the old man and gradually made out his face beneath his hat.
"Setrakian!" she suddenly exclaimed, reaching for the car door.
"Malaika… wait…" Mia started.
It was too late. Malaika was already out of the car as Mia heard the door slam shut behind her. Quinlan scowled at her disobedience, but before he could say anything, the old man called out to her.
"Malaika?" his old voice croaked. His eyes battled his aging vision, squinting as he stared at her. "You've grown up. You were just a child when I last saw you."
"Now I am old enough to be a hunter," Malaika grinned proudly. "I have already killed three..."
"That's enough," Quinlan said softly. Immediately, Malaika's smile faded as she lowered her head and remained silent.
Alone in the car, Mia was becoming restless. It may have been dangerous outside, but being in the car provided no sense of safety, only isolation. Even if there was danger, she would rather be with the others. She reached for the door, then paused. Quinlan said to stay in the car. She hesitated, pulling her hand back. But Malaika's already out there. What difference does it make now? She reached for the door again and opened it.
"And who is this?" the old man asked, looking past Quinlan.
Quinlan followed the old man's gaze and turned around to see Mia getting out of the car. Quinlan was frustrated that the situation had ensued against his instructions.
"I told you both to stay in the car," he growled softy.
Mia ignored Quinlan's reproach and instead followed the sound of his voice. She walked towards him with slow and careful steps and searching hands, until she felt a familiar touch on her fingertips. Her hands patted his arm as she found his position, and she stood beside him. Her hand reached up and found the bottom of his coat sleeve, and she gently gripped the seam between her thumb and her index finger. Quinlan could tell she was nervous and that she was seeking a sense of security with this small gesture. He shifted across and positioned himself slightly in front of her.
"Who are you?" the old man asked again. His words were blunt, but he meant no rudeness. He glanced at Mia's hand, holding Quinlan's sleeve, and his eyes briefly showed a fleeting thought.
Before Mia could answer, Quinlan interjected. "Perhaps you should tell me first who your friends are." Quinlan nodded towards the black car with the dark windows. He could see two silhouettes inside – one in the driver's seat, and the other in the front passenger seat.
The old man contemplated for a moment, and then turned to the car and nodded at whoever was inside. Following the prompt, the two front doors of the car slowly opened, and two mysterious figures stepped out, dressed to match in all black. They wore reinforced vests over hooded jackets, combat pants equipped with an assortment of weapon holsters, and black boots and gloves to match. Their heads were lowered beneath their hoods and their faces were hidden in the dark. Quinlan sensed an ominous presence from the two figures.
"Show yourselves," Quinlan demanded.
The two figures stood unmoving. Quinlan sneered at their non-compliance, his hands twitching at the guns by his side.
"Oh for heaven's sake, we're on the same side!" the old man grumbled, sensing the growing tension. "Show your faces," he waved his arm at the two figures.
Slowly and reluctantly, the figures tilted up their heads. Before Quinlan could see their faces, he saw a shimmer of eyes beneath their hoods. Suddenly, a surge of adrenaline rushed through him as he immediately drew his gun and stepped in front of Mia, at the same time pushing her back behind him. He stood tall and broad, flaring his chest and his shoulders, forming a barrier in front of her with his body. Mia was startled by Quinlan's abrupt movement. She could hear that deep growl rattling from the base of his throat near his chest; the same sound that told her the very first night that he was not human. Quinlan's reaction suggested there was danger.
"What is it?" Mia pressed forward anxiously, but Quinlan placed his arm across her and held her back behind him.
Malaika watched nervously, but she did not draw her gun. Her eyes darted back and forth between Quinlan and Abraham.
"Quinlan, put down your gun," the old man insisted.
The two figures in black proceeded to remove their hoods, revealing their hairless heads and pale white skin, with an intricate pattern of blue veins weaving beneath the skin. Their ears were pointed likes elves of fantasies, and their mouths were pursed with thin lips that led to gashes in the corners that allowed the mouth to open wider than normal. Their blood-red eyes were buried deep beneath their hairless brows and burned with a predatory glare. The creatures were fierce-looking and distinctly non-human, but not grotesque like the infected. Apart from the colour of the eyes, the two creatures were not dissimilar to Quinlan in appearance.
"Sun Hunters…" Quinlan muttered. "I thought there were none of you left." Quinlan slowly lowered his gun, but the fury remained in his eyes.
"Sorry to disappoint," one of them smirked.
"We are not the enemy, Quinlan," said the other. "I know we've had our differences, but have we not always shared a common goal?"
"The enemy of my enemy is not my friend," said Quinlan.
"But perhaps it is time to work together," Abraham interjected. "The matter has become more serious. We know he found you, Quinlan."
Quinlan's face suddenly changed. His anger appeared to simmer down, or was at least it was redirected, as his eyes glanced to the side, indicating a thought.
"Do you know why he so desperately wanted to find you?" Abraham asked.
"I assume it's because he wants me dead."
Mia's face twisted in confusion as she stepped forward beside Quinlan. This time he did not push her back. She took hold of his arm and pulled herself close to him. "What is he talking about?" she whispered.
Quinlan did not answer.
"You really have no idea," the old man muttered. "I will explain everything, but I need you to come with me."
"This better be worth my while," Quinlan sneered.
"Believe me, it is."
"Alright, but under one condition – you come with me."
The old man nodded. He turned back towards the two figures and gave them a nod, before letting Malaika take his arm and help him with his struggling steps towards the car. The two creatures exchanged a glance with each other before turning to make leave. One of them stopped before getting into the car and looked at Quinlan. "It's good to see you again… brother," he smirked, and then disappeared into car. Quinlan watched as the black car reversed down the narrow street and then drove out of sight.
The old man, hunched over his cane, hobbled slowly. With each step, his cane would come down first, followed by his shuffling feet. Malaika opened the door for him, and with much effort, the old man sat into the back seat of the car. Quinlan helped Mia to the car, but as he tried to escort her into the back seat, she turned and pushed against him.
"Who is that man?" she asked apprehensively.
Quinlan could tell she did not want to get into the car with the stranger. "It's alright, he is not a threat," Quinlan reassured. He tried again to gently push her into the car. But again, she pushed against him, her brows furrowed.
Quinlan stopped. "I promise," he whispered, letting her go and taking a step back. He did not like feeling her struggle against him; it made him feel like a brute. And even if he was, he did not want to feel that way; not with her. After a moment, Mia turned and got into the car, reluctantly, however on her own accord. If Quinlan promised, then it was good enough for her.
As the car drove through the streets of the decaying city, the old man sat stiffly in the back, his hands clutching his cane across his lap. His face held the same wrinkled expression as he looked out the window at the once glorious city that was now almost unrecognisable.
"You still carry that old cane," Quinlan noted, as if he could see it in his hands without looking back.
"These days, it's not so much the memories, but I can barely walk without it," Abraham groaned, tightening his grip around the stick. But it was a lie – the significance of the cane was always in the memories. "You know, Quinlan, your grudge against the Ancients has gone on for long enough. It's time to put that aside."
"The Ancients?" Mia perplexed, as she sat pressed against the door, distancing herself as much as possible from the stranger beside her. "Quinlan said they were all dead."
"Yes. And I will only believe otherwise when I see it with my own eyes," said Quinlan.
"And what are Sun Hunters?" asked Mia.
"Soldiers, guardians and servants of the Ancients," Quinlan replied. "It seems now they are nothing more than trained animals."
"You trained many of these so-called animals," Abraham reminded.
"I did not train them to hunt humans like wild rabbits; to kill the weak and innocent without mercy, and then hide like cowards in the face of danger."
"Ah yes, killing the innocent – you see that as being the point of difference between them and yourself. But tell me, who gets to judge whether or not someone is innocent; whether or not a person has the right to live? You?"
Quinlan did not reply. Mia knew the question would have bothered him. It was not Quinlan's choice to feed on humans, and he did what he could to lessen his guilt. Preying on those who have done wrong was all he could offer the world as compensation for his existence. The last thing he needed was for his already frail morality to be challenged for simply being what he is.
Mia frowned irritably at the old man's question. "We all judge; we all play God in our own minds," she said, staring solemnly ahead. "How many times have you looked at a person and thought the world would better off without them? Most of the time it's just a thought. But then when you realize the evil that humans are capable of, you suddenly wish more people judged with a gun than with their heads."
Abraham's brows raised slightly in surprise. It was only a small change in expression, but for a man with an unchanging face, it meant something significant. Then the old man let out a single chuckle that sounded more like a cough. "I like her," he commented. "Excuse me for not introducing myself. My name is Abraham Setrakian. Quinlan and I once… worked together." He struggled to define their relationship. "And you are?"
"Mia," she replied aloofly.
The old man looked at her, noting her body language. "You don't need to be afraid of me, child. If you could see me, you'd know I'm far too old to hurt anybody."
"As long as a person is breathing, he can still hurt someone," she muttered. Her words seemed cold and bitter.
The old man was now studying her, intrigued, just as Quinlan had found himself staring at her reflection in the wing mirror. She sat leaning her elbow against the window and resting her little heart-shaped face in her hand. Her long, wavy brown hair draped down her sides, contrasted against her pale skin that had lost its colour from the cold. And her captivatingly introverted eyes, holding all her secrets, stared vacantly straight ahead. But once again, it was her words that captured Quinlan more than anything else. They had a way of steering his thoughts and feelings, but he could not explain how or why. Quinlan wondered why he ever allowed her to become a distraction.
"Turn left here!" the old man suddenly exclaimed, breaking a long silence in the car. Malaika turned abruptly, following his instructions.
"Where are we going?" Quinlan questioned.
"You said you want to see with your own eyes. So I'll show you."
