Chapter Text
The truck stopped underneath the Manhattan Bridge; Quinlan was the first to jump out from the back. As soon as he stepped onto the street, he scanned the area, and then motioned for the others to follow. One by one, the hunters dispatched from the back of the truck with their weapons in their hands – rifles, shotguns, knives and machetes. Gus simply preferred a pistol; it was light-weight and allowed him to move quickly. Quinlan, as always, was equipped with his two machine pistols, holstered on each side, and the sword on his back that he had carried with him through the ages; it was a heavy weapon, forged by hand from ancient blacksmiths, sharp, double edged, and its hilt made of bone with ancient engravings.
Quinlan lead the team towards a nearby subway entrance that appeared like the mouth of a cave descending into a dark oblivion, and who knew what lay in the darkness below. Even the trained hunters were afraid, and Quinlan could smell their fear; he did not blame them, for it was only human. Just a few paces down the stairs into the subway entrance, the darkness engulfed them. The hunters turn on their head torches, and from a distance it looked like eerie beams of light illuminating from faceless heads of shadowy figures. The hunters continued their descent.
Deep below the street was a platform littered with junk and rubble. In the dark, empty space, tall steel columns spaced every few meters stood like giants, casting looming shadows at different angles depending on where the light from the torches hit them. With Quinlan in front, the team walked slowly and carefully down the platform.
Suddenly, Quinlan stopped and held up his fist, signalling the hunters behind him to halt. Their steps came to an abrupt stop; everyone was silent and still as they listened and looked around their surroundings. The darkness meant that they could only see within the beam of light from their head torches, like a spotlight in the dark, revealing a small area at a time. The hunters could not hear or see anything out of the ordinary, however, what scared them was the fact that they knew Quinlan could, and they trusted his senses.
Suddenly, from behind the large steel column next to Gus, a ghastly white face stuck through the darkness and into the light of his torch, just inches from his face. Its white skin was creeping with dark veins, eyes were red and bloodshot, and the mouth was wide open, letting out a bloodcurdling shriek. Gus fell backwards, paralysed for a moment from the fright. The creature's chest heaved as if it was about to regurgitate, and then out shot its stinger, flying towards Gus, whose eyes were wide with fear. Before he had time to react, Quinlan caught the creature's stinger in one hand, and with a hard tug, he pulled the whole organ out of its body through its mouth. The creature lay limp and motionless on the floor.
Then, behind the group, another creature leaped out from the darkness. Everyone spun around. The large African-American man with the shaved head and tattoos, a beast of man, stood the closest to the creature. He showed no emotion or surprise when the creature lunged out. He reacted quickly and aimed his double-barrel shotgun at the creature's chest and pulled the trigger. The gun let out a loud explosive sound as it sent the creature flying back. The creature lay on the ground for a moment, and then got up into a crawling position, its joints contorted and limbs spread out like a spider. It shrieked at the hunters before scampering into the darkness in a spider-like crawl. The hunters tried to follow it with their torches, but it moved too quickly; it disappeared into the darkness. Quinlan could see it in a far corner, glaring at them. But he could sense that it had no intention of attacking again; it was severely wounded. He decided to leave it. He began to walk towards the tracks and motioned for the others to follow. Gus walked beside him.
"You froze," said Quinlan. "That will get you killed."
"I would've shot that thing if you gave me the chance," Gus retorted, annoyed at himself that he did in fact freeze, and would have been stung if Quinlan had not been there.
Quinlan turned to him and smirked. "Next time I will be sure to not interfere."
The team continued down the tracks, deeper and deeper into the tunnel. There was an uncomfortable silence around them, like the type of dead silence that comes before a storm. They could hear their footsteps on the loose rocks beneath their feet, and if they could hear it, then so could anything else that was down there. Ahead, the tunnel split in two. Quinlan stopped and turned to his men.
"You three," he pointed to Gus and two others, "follow me. The rest of you take the tunnel on the right. Try to avoid using your guns."
"And make sure you keep these switched on," Gus reminded, holding up his radio.
The men gave each other a nod as they split off into their teams.
Moments later, the mood had become quite different in the two tunnels. Among the five men who separated from Quinlan, fear was beginning to set in. They imagined scenarios of what they could encounter in these depths, and it became apparent that they were vulnerable without Quinlan. Quinlan's eyes were more useful in the dark than their torches, his senses could not be matched by any man, and he was more effective in battle than five men with guns. Without him, even the bravest of warriors would feel a sense of trepidation in a place like this. To these five men, it seemed as though they had taken the darker and more foreboding route.
A few hundred meters in, Quinlan and his group reached a wide part of the tunnel, where further ahead there was a large open space where the tracks split into three different directions. That part of the tunnel was close to the surface of the city, as there was an opening in the ceiling and a single beam of light shined down from the world above – a dim glow from the natural light of the night sky. Quinlan stopped and looked towards the light in the distance. The other men stopped beside him.
"Turn off your lights," Quinlan commanded.
"What are you…" Gus began, but Quinlan raised his hand sharply, motioning for immediate silence.
All three men looked towards the direction that Quinlan was looking, as he appeared to be staring transfixed on something ahead. At first, they could not see anything. Then, a single strigoi stumbled into the beam of light like an actor walking into the spotlight. The creature moved in a rigid and jerky manner. Its pale white body twitched as it made a soft gurgling sound. Then, it moved into the darkness again and the men could no longer see it. However, they could still hear its noises echoing through the silence. A moment later, it moved into the light again. This time, it stood there, looking up the beam of light towards the world above. Its head twitched as it tilted, staring into the light as if it was seeing God. Its body was gaunt and its bony fingers were locked in a claw-like position. Unaware of human presence, the creature was almost in a trance. It was rare to see one just standing there and not attacking. In that moment, the creature almost looked frail and vulnerable.
One of the hunters, who carried a scoped rifle, quietly raised his gun and took aim, looking down the scope. The crosshairs were right on the creature's head; he would've had the perfect shot, but Quinlan put his hand on the rifle and lowered it. He shook his head, indicating not to shoot. The man looked at Quinlan and saw an intense expression on his face as he continued to stare towards the creature. The expression on his face was as if he was seeing something that was deeply troubling. Indeed, Quinlan was not looking at this creature; he was looking behind it, further into the dark, where only he could see the disturbing sight of what lay ahead - an entire horde of strigoi was lurking in the darkness, all standing in that trance-like state. There were about thirty that Quinlan could see, but who knew how many more were down the dark tunnel. The slightest sound or movement would wake them and then the devastating horde would be unleashed.
The five men in the other tunnel had not made as much progress navigating through the dark. The light from their head torches provided no clear view of what lay ahead or around them. They were beginning to feel as though the walls were closing in, but it was just the darkness engulfing them that was bringing about a sense of claustrophobia. Nerves were tense as the men walked slowly and hesitantly. Suddenly, they heard a sound behind them, as if one of the rocks on the ground had been kicked. The men spun around, their fingers trembling over their triggers. The rays of light from their torches moved with them, revealing a different piece of the darkness each time they turned. Just as the tension was close to breaking point, one of the men turned and looked straight into the face of a creature with its stinger already emerged from its mouth. Before he could react, the stinger shot out and latched onto the man's neck as he let out a scream. In a moment of panic, without thinking or remember Quinlan's words, all the men opened fire. Their bullets hit the man as well as the creature, but it made no difference; he was gone anyway. The loud sounds of their guns echoed through the tunnels.
The creature that stood before Quinlan and his group suddenly came to life; its whole body jerked as it woke from its trance. Now alert, it was trying to sense its surroundings. The men held their breaths and stayed motionless. Their hearts were beating fast. Their muscles were tense and spring-loaded, ready to react. The moment seemed like an eternity; frozen in time, until suddenly, it snapped. More gunfire sounded from down the tunnel, louder this time. The creature spun around and looked right at Quinlan and his men. It let out a loud shriek, and then there was a rumbling sound from behind the creature. Gus squinted as he looked into the darkness; he thought he could see something very large moving in the shadows. All the men saw it.
"Get out of here," Quinlan whispered.
As the men turned on their head torches, their lights revealed a sea of strigoi standing behind the one in the front, all waking from their slumber. It was like looking into a crowd at a concert; there were that many. Simultaneously, all the creatures' heads snapped towards the men. They postured up… and then they charged!
"Run!" Quinlan bellowed.
Frozen in fear and awe, it took a moment for their bodies to respond. Once they did, the men turned and sprinted as fast as they could. Quinlan stood where he was, with his sword in his hand. He needed to kill as many of them as he could for his men to have a chance. The sea of strigoi was upon him like a wave, engulfing him. He moved through them, swinging his sword. He went straight for their necks, for decapitation – one swing for one head, clean and swift. He had to keep moving otherwise they all be upon him at once, but even then, it was getting difficult; claws were grabbing him, trying to drag him down. He shook them off, then holstered his sword, and started to run himself. He needed to be cautious; not even he could fight that many.
He quickly caught up to his men. The creatures were close behind them. The men didn't turn around, but they could tell they were close from the sound of their shrieks. Quinlan fired his guns behind him as he ran, killing off the closest ones to buy themselves more distance.
They reached the part of the tunnel that forked in two directions, where the team had split up. Just ahead, on the side of the tunnel, there was a small door. Quinlan ran towards it.
"Over here," Quinlan called. The door was locked. He rammed it open with his shoulder and then stood to the side to let his men through. One by one, they ran through the door. Quinlan looked towards where the tunnel split; he could see the creatures about to break through the tunnel on the left. Then suddenly, he noticed movement in the tunnel on the right, and the sound of gunfire. Out of the darkness, four men from the other group emerged, running. Quinlan realized at this rate, they would intersect the horde of strigoi coming from the other tunnel.
"Move!" he shouted. "Faster!"
Do not fail!
With just a split second's difference, the four men ran out of the tunnel, followed by a few strigoi behind them, and then the large horde exploded out from the other tunnel.
The men turned their heads and looked behind them. Even though it slowed them down, they couldn't not look at the staggering sight.
"What the fuck…" said one of the men.
"Shit!"
They all sprinted faster towards the door. Quinlan tried his best to shoot the ones that were getting close to them. The three smaller men were fast and quickly got ahead of the horde, reaching the door. However, the large African-American man, with his enormous size, was struggling to get ahead. Even though he was almost at the door, so were the strigoi.
"Come on," Quinlan urged through grit teeth. He would only hold the door open so much longer, otherwise he would jeopardise the rest of the team. But the decision was soon made for him, when a strigoi launched itself at the man, tackling him to the ground. Before Quinlan could see anything else, a group of them crowded over the man. Quinlan could only hear his screams.
Quinlan turned and walked through the door, slamming it behind him just as the first few strigoi lunged at him. He stood with his back to the door, using all his strength to hold it closed as bodies slammed against it on the other side. He looked around; there was nothing that he could put in front of the door. He knew there was only one option; he had to hold it. He looked up towards the ladder on the wall; it went a long way up, with a hatch at the top that was open. His team had made it through; they were safe, or so he hoped.
His muscles were beginning to ache. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes. His mind drowned out the sound of the banging against the door and loud shrieks of the creatures. He ignored the door pushing into his back every time a creature rammed into it. And he overcame the feeling of pain and weakness in his body as he strained to hold the door in place. He didn't know how long he stood there for, but eventually the creatures gave up, and everything became quiet.
The night was long and the battle was lost. And for two more hunters, it was the last battle they would ever fight. Now the group was down to six. It was inevitable, Quinlan thought. Just as it is inevitable that those creatures would eventually find their way into the city through these tunnels. They needed to be stopped.