Vampires vs. Zombies PRT- Chapter 22 of 38

[r4punz3l]

Title: Vampires vs. Zombies PRT
Chapter Rating: PG-13
Chapter Summary: In which Glenn Beck reaches out to Anderson, Rachel, and Keith, and someone from Orly’s past makes an appearance.
Disclaimer: #NotIntendedToBeAFactualStatement
All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
Word Count: ~3000
Author's Note: Continued thanks to themistoklis for beta-reading and constructive suggestions. I’m so glad that you’re feeling better now. You are a wonderful and thorough beta, and I would never feel comfortable posting this without your help. <3

Previous chapters


Chapter 22

It was still dark in the grocery store when Anderson’s cell phone rang. He groaned, and reached over to stop the sound. Rachel stirred, but didn’t wake. Keith didn’t make any sound at all. Anderson figured he was dead asleep, or wide-awake and unable to sleep at all. Not for the first time, Anderson was glad he’d spent so much time in war-torn and disaster-stricken areas. At the very least, he’d learned how to sleep anywhere, under any conditions.

“Hello?” he said softly.

“Speak up,” Keith said, startling Anderson. “I think we all want to hear this. Don’t we, Rachel?”

“Mm-hmm,” Rachel said drowsily.

Anderson punched a button, and put the call on speaker. “Hello?” he said again.

“Anderson,” Glenn Beck said. He sounded just like he did on his radio show. Anderson wondered if the call was being broadcast. “Don’t worry,” Beck replied, seemingly reading his mind. “This is a private call. You’re not on the air.”

Anderson looked over at Rachel. She was fumbling with her pack. Anderson smiled as she pulled out a small radio, and pulled in earbuds. She was checking the radio anyway, just in case.

“Hello, Glenn,” Keith said. His voice dripped with disdain. “What’s up with the zombie apocalypse?”

“It’s not the end of the world,” Beck said. “Or, it doesn’t have to be. Look, just come to Fox studios. I’ll explain everything.”

“I don’t think we need your explanation,” Keith retorted. “I think the entire situation is self-explanatory. You sold your soul to take over the world, turning everyone around you into mindless, obedient freaks. Oddly appropriate, coming from the man who thinks that President Obama is one of the four horsemen of the apocalypse.”

“You really like that word, don’t you?” Beck retorted. “Apocalypse.”

“It’s appropriate,” Anderson commented.

“Anderson,” Beck said, latching on to Anderson’s voice. “Anderson, please. Please come here, and tell the people that everything is all right.”

“It isn’t all right,” Anderson said. “It isn’t even close. The Haitian earthquake, the Japanese tsunami, and the civil uprisings in the Middle East, all put together, are more all right that this situation.”

“Fine, fine,” Beck said. “But it will be all right. If everyone just stops fighting, if they could all just agree, everything would be fine. Don’t you think so?”

Anderson opened his mouth respond, and stopped. He could feel it, a fluttery buzzing in his head. It was similar to the felling Rachel had given him, when she was exerting her influence. She had been much more subtle that Beck was being.

Beck must have noticed something was wrong, because the feeling stopped abruptly. “Who else is with you?” Beck asked.

“Holy crap,” Anderson said. “Holy crap! You were in my head, weren’t you, Glenn? You were screwing with my thoughts, trying to make me agree with you.”

“Who else is there?” Beck shouted. “Damn it, someone else has been there first!”

“You couldn’t force him anyway, Beck,” Rachel said. She had set down the radio and taken out her earbuds. “You still haven’t figured it out, have you? You cannot force people to agree with you. You can only give them the option. And really, that’s only the option ever. You didn’t need to deal with that wretched woman.”

“Don’t you dare talk about Orly Graves like that,” Beck snapped. “Rachel Maddow. Of course. All the MSNBC losers sticking together. It’s almost touching, really.”

“I’m on Current, now,” Keith said.

“And I’m on CNN,” Anderson said. “And CBS.”

“Give it up, Beck,” Rachel said. “Stop this now. You can fix this.”

Beck laughed. “You can’t make me, Maddow,” he retorted. Anderson could hear the smile in his voice. It was positively gleeful. “You’ve got influence, but it’s not as strong as mine.”

“Not strong enough, if you had to call,” Rachel replied, her own grin plastered on her face. “If you were strong enough, we’d have come at your call. How many people came to you after your broadcast, Beck?” she taunted.

“Lots!” Beck shouted. “Plenty! Enough!”

“Did anyone show up?” Rachel asked, chuckling. “Oh, that’s great. You got five people to show up. Five. At least you had enough fingers to count them all.”

“Shut up!” Beck snarled. “Shut up, now, or I’ll make you.”

Anderson froze at that. Make us? he thought. How could he—oh, God, don’t do it. No.

Keith sat up straight at that comment, drawing Rachel’s attention. She closed her mouth on her next comment.

“So, are you coming or what?” Beck asked. He sounded sulky, now.

“No,” Rachel said.

“No,” Anderson said.

“Hell, no,” Keith said.

“Fine,” Beck said flatly. “Have it your way.” The line cut out.

“Did he hang up on us?” Rachel asked. “How juvenile of him.”

Keith looked at Anderson uneasily. Anderson caught his eye. Keith nodded toward Rachel, and put his finger on his nose. Anderson frowned at Keith. The older man only grinned back at him, briefly. Anderson sighed. “Rachel?” he asked.

“Yes?” Rachel replied.

“Can you, uh, sense, where there are zombies around?”

Rachel frowned. “I don’t know,” she said. “If I can it’s pretty useless. They’re everywhere, you know.”

“But could you tell if there were any that were getting closer?” Anderson persisted.

Rachel shrugged. “Maybe.”

“You did it today,” Keith said. “Or yesterday. What day is this? Anyway,” he went on. “You found your supporters, and you had them come to us. Could you tell if, I don’t know, hostile zombies were approaching? With intent,” he clarified. “Not just milling about, but seriously approaching.”

Understanding dawned on Rachel’s face, her skin losing color as the reality of what Keith was asking sunk in. “Could I tell if Beck sent a hostile force to take us out?” she asked. “That’s what you mean.”

“Yes,” Keith said. “We should get out of here.”

“It’s three in the morning,” Anderson pointed out.

“Oh, so Rachel called them yesterday, good,” Keith said. “I’m glad that’s been cleared up.”

“Knock it off,” Anderson said. “The point is, it’s dark out. We can’t see, and we have no idea where we’re going to go.”

“We could just steal a car from the dealership, like we planned to in the morning,” Rachel said.

“It is morning,” Keith pointed out.

“When it’s light out again,” Rachel said.

“You really want to steal a car in the dark?” Keith asked.

“Carjackers do it all the time,” Rachel said. “Besides, with all the streetlights, it’s never really ever dark out. How long have you lived in New York?”

“Both of you, stop it,” Anderson said firmly. He looked at Rachel, and then over at Keith. Both stopped talking. It was hard to tell, but Anderson thought that Rachel’s face was flushed with embarrassment. Keith just looked back at him stonily. “We can’t do this,” Anderson pleaded. “We can’t turn on each other. That’s how everyone dies in the movies.”

“I didn’t know you liked zombie movies,” Rachel said.

“Neither did I,” Keith said.

“Are you kidding?” Anderson said. “They’re the only thing that make my job look easy. Or they were.”

Rachel sighed. She went over to Anderson, and hugged him tight. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t think there’s anything coming.”

“I know,” Anderson replied. He squeezed her back, and then unwrapped one arm. He held out his hand to Keith. “Get over here,” he said. He opened and closed his hand, like a child insisting on being held.

Keith got up and crawled over the short distance between them. He wrapped Rachel and Anderson in his arms. “Sorry,” he muttered.

“It’s okay,” Rachel said. “We’re all cool again. We’ll beat this guy,” she added. “I know it.”

Anderson sighed. “I don’t want to move, now,” he said.

“It’s almost kinky,” Rachel said. “You know, except for the whole, possibly imminent zombie attack thing.”

“That just makes it even kinkier,” Keith said.

Anderson giggled. Rachel huffed a bit, and then began to laugh. Keith was the last one to crack, but soon, they were all laughing together.

“Oh, I needed that,” Rachel said.

“Either that, or sex,” Keith said. “But laughing’s faster.”

Anderson swatted at Keith. He wasn’t sure if he got his boyfriend or not. The comment on laughter had reminded him.

“We should check in with Jon and Stephen,” he said.

“Later,” Keith said firmly. “I’m still not sure that Beck isn’t planning something for us. If he’s got our location, he could get Stewart and Colbert’s, too, if we call them.”

“I guess,” Anderson said softly. He shivered a bit. Rachel rubbed his back and shoulders, and Keith tightened his grip on them both. They lay together like that until Anderson’s alarm went off near sunrise.

&&&

“It didn’t work, did it?” Orly Graves asked. She could tell Beck was upset. Of course, even Helen Keller would have known. Glenn Beck, having been thwarted in turning some other TV personalities to his side, was throwing a fit that would have put a spoiled toddler to shame. Orly was two floors away, and she could still hear him stomping around and throwing things. He’d even summoned a couple of his minions and torn them to shreds. That hadn’t helped anything, and had ruined the carpet in the green room.

“Why?” Beck wailed. Orly’s head rang with Beck’s lament. She was deeply regretting her decision, now, to share the gift with Beck. How could I ever have thought him worthy of it? she thought privately. The man is a subtle as a brick wall.

“Can’t they see I’m right?” Beck went on. He seemed to be near tears now. Orly sighed. In such close proximity, there was no way to close the mental link between them. She could hear him as plainly as if they were in the same room, as he could with her, if either one spoke aloud. “If they’d just join me, this would all be over.”

“Why would they join you?” Orly asked. “They were your competitors on television, and they are your competitors still.”

“I would have thought the other Fox folks would have stuck with me,” Beck pouted.

“They haven’t joined you?” Orly asked.

“I can’t find them!” Beck snapped. He punctuated his comment by throwing a glass paperweight against the wall. It shattered into a thousand beautiful shards. “They’ve just vanished. They’re not on any of the closed-circuit TV camera recordings, and they’re not in my head, either.”

Orly Graves frowned. Even totally overwhelmed by their own powers and their new minions, Beck should have been able to find others like him. Unless someone with a greater power is shielding them, she realized, dread settling in her stomach like a stone.

The call came at that moment, a deep, sonorous tolling that drowned out Beck completely. She still knew where he was, and how he was feeling, but their direct communication had been smothered.

Orly gulped. It was worse than she had feared. Any of the Old Ones could smother the signal of younger vampires, especially the newly made. Ones that were still living, or had been made in such a diluted fashion as flu shots, would be even easier. Even Orly could have done it, if she’d been so inclined.

But to feel this presence again, after so many years…. Orly shivered, and braced herself. Moments later, he appeared.

He was taller than Orly, even taller now that she had aged. His hair was a still a dark silver, long and lustrous. He still wore it pulled back with a ribbon, like at little girl’s ponytail. And yet, it wasn’t feminine looking in the least. He was lean and muscular, and moved like a professional dancer. He dressed all in black, and twirled a pince-nez on a chain, attached to his vest. He looked like a man dressed for a black-tie event, or a dedicated re-enactor of historical events.

He was pure evil.

His eyes gave the game away. His eyes had no pupil, no iris, no white. They were deep, dark pits filled with hatred. Those eyes would pull anyone who looked too deeply into the Abyss. Orly had looked, only once, as she had gained her powers. She had sworn at that moment that she would never look again.

“Hello, my dearest Orly,” the dark figure purred.

“Hello, Demetrius,” Orly replied. “Forgive me if I don’t get up. These old bones are not what they once were.”

“They could be,” Demetrius said. “You have only to say the word, only give to me what you ought to have given in the first place.”

Orly laughed. It was weak, but it was enough to push back Demetrius’s overwhelming presence. She gathered herself and stared at Demetrius’s throat. “No,” she said firmly. “That I will not give.”

“I see you have won another soul for the darkness,” Demetrius said. His face was grave as he said it, but Orly knew that he was mocking her. “Your first, I believe. You’ve waited a long time for this.”

“The ability to persuade others is enough for me,” Orly said.

Demetrius shook his head. “No, my dear,” he said. “It is not enough. Not for you. Not for the bold, brazen girl who summoned me on All Hallows’ Eve and told me that she wanted everything.” He walked closer to Orly’s seat. “No, no,” he went on. “She was meant to rule.”

“And I shall,” Orly said. She meant to sound firm, authoritative. Even to her own ears, she sounded petulant. “He has great potential, Glenn Beck.”

Demetrius looked at her thoughtfully. “Well, we shall see,” he said. He shifted his gaze away, and Orly relaxed a tiny bit. “I should very much like to meet him,” Demetrius said. Orly tensed again.

“Oh, of course,” she said. “In good time. In the meantime, my lord, may I offer you hospitality?” She reached out to the table beside her chair, and opened a compact mirror. “Gretchen, please come here. And bring George with you.”

“Yesss, Mrs. Graves,” Gretchen hissed. Orly closed the mirror, hoping that Demetrius wouldn’t notice the breach of etiquette.

“She does not call you ‘Lady’?” he asked. “How curious.”

“I requested that she not,” Orly said. “It raises too many questions among the mortals. Especially in this country.”

“Yes, I’ve noticed that,” Demetrius said. “It’s changed quite a bit since we last met, hasn’t it?”

“Indeed it has,” Orly said, as Gretchen walked in. George followed meekly behind her.

“Ahh, George,” Demetrius said. He held out his arms and smiled. George looked up at Demetrius and shivered. “So you do remember me,” Demetrius said.

“Yes, my lord,” George said. He stepped close to Demetrius, his chin lifted to expose his neck.

“Ah, George,” Demetrius said again. “So thoughtful of you. Pity you cannot convince your lovely wife to imitate your manners.” George did not respond. “Well, since you are offering so kindly, it would be rude of me to refuse.” Demetrius pressed a finger under George’s ear and drew him closer. George was taller than Demetrius, and he bent his knees to make it easier for Demetrius to reach.

Demetrius wrapped an arm around George’s back and dipped him low. He caressed George’s face. “Such a long time,” he whispered, fingertips delicately tracing the lines around George’s eyes, and his lips. He pressed a soft kiss to George’s throat, just over his pulse. George moaned, his eyes slipping closed. Demetrius licked George’s throat, nipped under his chin. Then he inhaled deeply and bit down delicately.

George shivered again and gasped. His body stirred in Demetrius’s arms. Orly watched, fascinated. She had always looked away as Gretchen and her sisters in darkness had fed on George. It was necessary to feed them, to keep them at bay. And technically George wasn’t hers anymore anyway. Theirs had been a marriage in name only for almost a century, now. But now, watching as Demetrius lapped at George’s neck almost lovingly, Orly felt a warmth in her belly that she had not felt for a very, very long time. She shifted in her seat, and tried to stay very quiet, not wanting to interrupt the scene before her.

Demetrius pulled George tighter, and began to suck on his neck firmly. George shuddered in his grasped. His hips jerked forward against Demetrius. Demetrius grinned and pushed back. George panted and repeated the motion. Demetrius cradled the back of George’s head in his hand and arched against the prone figure in his arms. George’s body jerked unevenly, losing the rhythm. He rubbed against Demetrius shamelessly for a timeless stretch. Then he froze, shuddered, and went completely limp. Demetrius pulled away from George’s neck. He lapped up a rivulet of blood, and lay George gently on the floor. “Thank you, my lovely,” he said, his voice low and warm.

As Demetrius lingered over George, Orly crossed her legs and clenched her fists. She tried very hard to concentrate on anything other than the tableaux before her, tried to find it repulsive, disgusting, wrong. She failed.

At last, Demetrius rose. He gave Orly a bright smiled. “Thank you for your hospitality,” he said. “Gretchen,” he added, turning to the succubus. She hadn’t left after delivering George, and Orly was acutely embarrassed by her presence. “Please tend to George. One does not find many like him.”

“Yes, my lord,” Gretchen replied. She knelt beside him, and picked him up in a princess carry.

“Now,” Demetrius said, turning to Orly. “Let us go and meet this neophyte of yours.”

Orly swallowed hard and stood up from her chair. “Of course, my lord,” she said. “Shall I let him know that we are coming?”

Demetrius smiled again, his expression darker. “No,” he said. “No, I think it would be much better to surprise him.”

“Of course,” Orly said. She headed toward the door, and led the way. Demetrius was perfectly capable of finding Beck on his own. But Orly was technically the hostess, and it was her duty to make the introduction. Demetrius followed closely behind. Last came Gretchen, carrying George. She soon left them, taking George back to… well, wherever it was that he went when he wasn’t needed. Orly had never concerned herself with that before.

Behind her Demetrius chuckled softly. Orly clenched her teeth, and tried very hard not to let her fear show. Because she was afraid of Demetrius. Poor Glenn Beck had no idea what he was in for.