Canticles of the Prophet Zachariah:

They Lurk in the Shadows

Notes by Anthony

“Welcome back, dear listeners, to the DJ Prophet Radio Hour, where we’re spinning the hottest alt-apocalyptic tracks this side of Gehenna. I suppose I can’t hold you in too much suspense, since I am speaking to you live in 1995. So, spoilers, I lived to ring in the New Year. We won, I think. Most of us even lived. Not all, though. I’ll get to that.

“Let’s see, where did I last leave you? Oh yes, falling asleep the morning of December 31st, snuggled up tight between Ben and Asa. You know, before Ben…died, I woke at the same time as Asa. These past few days, however, I’ve found Asa already staring at me as I scream myself awake from another nightmare. Ben, too. I remember George saying something about…age and humanity affecting the time we wake? Did I lose part of myself when Ben died in my arms? Something to ponder once I find that mythical vampire therapist. 

“Anyway, the plan. Team “Bait” would be Ben, Asa, and myself, with Cedric Obfuscating us. Since Cedric and I hit the snooze button a little harder than our compatriots, Ben and Asa would drag us out to the car that had been left at the farmhouse and drive, taking the backroads to Manassas. Cedric would “break” Obfuscation at strategic times so that any nosey Nancy overhearing our plans would intercept us at Sibly Cemetery. We’d drive around Manassas, giving Team “Sneak Attack,” aka Gwen, Rose, Comet, and the Giovanni ghouls, time to position themselves the other side of the Sudario in Sibly Cemetery, ready to take our pursuers down.

“Sometime after closing my eyes, I’d found myself suspended above a bleak, desolate world. One city rose above the death. Animals lay where they had been boiled alive, stretched towards the city as if they had been running towards salvation. Even earthworms and snakes were coiled up tight in tiny burnt strands. There had been no shelter from this nuclear holocaust.

“I flew towards the city. Someone inside it still moved. Caine. He looked bored and sad. I flew towards him. He did not notice me until I was nearly nose to nose with him. He barely parted his lips to speak, yet his “why” echoed in my ears and across the landscape. It was older than any language. Or maybe it wasn’t words at all, but rather the death rattle of a thousand birds that had echoed around the globe for millennia. Caine spoke again. “It’s too late for me. Too late for you.” He sounded sad. I hoped he was. I asked him: “Did you do all this?” He turned away from me. “You cannot understand. You are an insect.” He raised his hand and slapped me away. His arm moved with a languid, indolent grace, and yet it struck me before I could twitch a muscle. I flew back into the ruined world. It shook as billions of souls screamed in agony and terror.

“I awoke screaming in the backseat. Ben’s eyes were wide as he shushed me. He was holding my chest and legs down, as I’d nearly kicked Cedric in the passenger seat and broken our Obfuscation. It took longer than I’d like to admit, but eventually I relaxed and nodded. Their screams still echoed in my ears, but I had a job to do. I kicked Cedric’s chair. He huffed, but I could feel the obscuring fog clinging to the car. I kicked again, harder. 

“I was panicked. Frantic. We’d just escaped a cult that had held us hostage. They’d used us to open the Temple. They’d threatened Ben and Asa with Final Death. We had maybe minutes until their sleek black vans caught up with us. I could feel my Blood rushing, trying to respond to the imminent threats. I turned to Asa in the driver’s seat. “I know they took your sire. The Tremere hate Malkavians. It’s a death sentence for us in Alexandria. But George is powerful. He will protect us.” Asa and Cedric stared calmly back at me in the rearview mirror. This wasn’t going to work. They were too relaxed. I wasn’t telling them anything they didn’t already expect to hear.

“And…listeners, here’s where I got too cute. I decided to improv. Classic radio sin, I know. Now, the fresh banter you hear live on air is never rehearsed, dear listeners. But Ben and I know the playlist. We know which segments to introduce, and we know how long until our next commercial break. It’s improvised, but within a framework we both agreed to. You don’t break that agreement, listeners. But I was scared that George and Four would see this trap from a mile away. I had to throw Asa and Cedric off their rhythm. Make them question. Make them unsure. 

“I took a breath. “Go to the radio station. We’ll put out a call. George will know it’s me. He’ll know to listen to the radio.” There it was. The reaction I needed. Cedric shook his head. Asa’s eyes went wide and then narrowed. Ben stiffened beside me. The car filled with confusion. Doubt. Fear. Suspicion. I kicked the back of Cedric’s seat once, and then again. 

“I smiled after the obfuscation took hold, feeling smug. Then Ben grabbed my arm, hard. He knocked loudly in the Cobweb. I let him in. We were the only two in the car. Ben had manifested a space for us the very first time he’d tried. But this was no time to celebrate. Ben was scared and angry. “I don’t know the plan. Tell me the plan.” My good mood evaporated in an instant as doubt crept in. Couldn’t Ben see what I saw? Had I gotten too clever? Did I let my insanity and paranoia win and doom us all? “Cedric is bad at acting. I had to throw you all off. And we need to wait to hear from Comet. We can’t send the Tremere to Sibly Cemetery until we’re sure they’re ready.” Ben nodded, but he still looked unsure. Disappointed? I couldn’t tell. He broke the connection and nodded at Asa as we crept along the neighborhoods of residential Manassas towards the radio tower. It got steadily more crowded as the native Manassians – Manassites? – and those who had fled the chaos in D.C. and Alexandria drank and partied in the New Year.

“Fifteen minutes later, we were a block from the radio station when I felt a tickle on the back of my neck. I sunk into the Cobweb. Comet didn’t bother manifesting, only muttering “we’re ready. This shit is weird” before slipping away. I opened my eyes and kicked Cedric’s chair. Fortunately, he got the message this time. I pretended to have a vision, something along the lines of “Oh god! I saw them at the radio station. The cult will find us there. It’s New Years Eve. The radio station is surrounded by people! They’ll eat everyone. How could I be so stupid. We need to find somewhere safe. Quiet. A library, a park – oh! There’s a cemetery to the left. Sibly Cemetery. I’ll call George from a payphone. He’ll find us there.” I fell back into the seat, breathing hard. 

“We parked a block away. The lock was already picked, likely by one of Gwen’s ghouls. We stepped inside and waited by the mausoleum she told us to. Cedric and Asa hid behind it while I paced back and forth with Ben. I checked my watch. Ten minutes. Fifteen. Twenty. Twenty-five. It was minute twenty-six when a car pulled up, driving at exactly the speed limit. A man stepped out and entered the cemetery. He was white, and younger than George had been. He lacked George’s muscles and good looks. He had a mullet, which certainly hasn’t been fashionable for at least five years. But he walked with George’s confident, predatory stride. His eyes focused with George’s unnatural intensity on my own. 

“And here again, listeners, is where I fucked up. Auspex lets me read someone’s emotional state. It also tells if they’re a human, ghoul, or vampire. George taught me that himself back when we entered Desireé’s club. But I didn’t check. I didn’t even think of it. I remembered how George’s skin had writhed under my own as we pulled the stake from Joan’s heart. A Tzimisce like Sascha could change her body, and George had diablerized Dr. Gavreau. Could George not have transformed to avoid detection? He even spoke with the same not-quite British accent. But why didn’t I check, listeners? Why didn’t I think? And now an innocent man is dead because of my failure.

“I gave him the sob story we concocted, listeners. I left because I was scared. George had frightened me after Gallaudet. I’d thought Desirée and Thaïs would protect me, but they’d tasted my blood and it corrupted them. They cast a ritual so I could escape the Bubble, but then they’d eaten some important Ventrue and abandoned me. Then I was captured by a cult who used me to open the Temple. I’d had to Embrace Ben or lose him forever. I was a fool. I never should have left George. 

“I could feel myself getting hysterical as I confessed my sins. It was all true. I was scared. I had seen so many terrible things since I left George. Ben’s presence was a comfort and a reminder of all I had lost. Maybe George could have gotten Ben out. Protected him from me. But I could see this not-George holding back a smile, even as his face softened in mock sympathy. Like I’d been a naughty child stealing cookies and was now suffering a well-deserved stomachache.

“I gestured to Asa, and he stepped out from behind the Mausoleum. I asked George to protect us. To rescue us from the cult that held us and the Sabbat to the East. We wanted back in the Bubble. His grin broke free as he stared at Asa’s forehead. “Here’s what’s going to happen now. Go somewhere safe. I will find you. Where we are going, the Bubble will be no barrier or concern. You will be safe in the bosom of the Camarilla. But tell me of the ritual — how did you escape the Bubble?” I hesitated. I couldn’t tell him how we actually escaped, or where we landed. I’d lost myself the method acting, but I knew I could not give away the Temple’s location.

“My panic was interrupted as the air behind George tore open and Gwen leapt out. Her sword bisected George at the stomach. It felt like my dream, where the violence lasted forever and yet I had no time to move at all. Blood spurted from the bottom of his ribs to just above his hipbone. The two halves slid apart and fell to the ground with two wet thuds. Gwen had avoided lodging her sword in the bone. She stood above George, ready to strike again. Gwen looked confused that he had fallen so easily. I was, too.

“Something in the man’s pocket began to ring. Gwen answered the cellphone. Then she held it out to me. “It’s for you.” The Blood that pretended to be my stomach sank. I’d fucked up. I had to salvage this. I took the phone. George’s voice, his real voice, called my name: “Zachariah.” He sounded disappointed and pleased and turned on all at the same time. 

“It made my skin crawl. I let the bloody tears of frustration well up, and my anger and disappointment at myself came out as a petulant whine: “You were supposed to come for me. You were supposed to protect me! And now the cult is here. They have me.” My only option was to pretend that this cult had killed George without my cooperation. That I still wanted to escape. We could think of another plan later, but George needed to believe I wanted rescue. His not-quite British voice purred through the tinny speakers: “Don’t worry. I will make this all go away, Zachariah. You will be with me soon.” The dial tone echoed in my ear, and I threw the phone on the ground. I’d fucked up. Neither Four nor George had fallen for our trap. Four might still even be at the Radio Station, waiting for a Malkavian and Salubri who would never show.  

Gwen and Asa walked to the corpse. Asa pulled out his wallet. He read aloud: “Andrew H. Daigle” and then “Walter Peabody.” He showed the ID cards to us. Andrew’s matched George’s face, while Walter’s matched the dead man at our feet. George had taken Walter and…I don’t know, listeners. George had put his mind inside this Walter’s body and puppeted him to Sibly Cemetery. And because I thought I was so clever, I let him get killed with nothing to show for it.

“I walked away from the corpse. I couldn’t bear to see what I had done. But then I noticed something trickling down one of the headstones. A bit of slime, maybe? Something shifted behind it. I picked up the phone and walked around it, acting nonchalant. As I stepped behind it, I lunged and bear hugged the gooey, shimmering space. It squished beneath me. Maggots wriggled against my chest and between my fingers. A corpse-like Nosferatu appeared and slipped free of my grasp.

“I’ll spare you the details, listeners. This was not our finest fight. Rose’s arrows missed, despite her enchantments on them to take George down. Gwen’s sword, so deadly against Walter, was too slow for the slippery Nosferatu. Asa and I tackled it, and I did the only thing violent thing I knew how to. I sunk my teeth past the slime coating his neck and deep into the spongy tissue. 

“I’d thought to bite and hurt, but the urge for violence was gone the second his blood touched my lips. Birthday. His real name had been lost a long, long time ago. Birthday heralded his transformation to this new form. I could not see his life before his Embrace, but that did not matter. I could see those close to him, feel his conflicted loyalty and fear and resentment and comradery. Alexander was the “lord” of Manassas, a Gangrel who had laid claim to this outskirt, backwater town. Catrina was his partner, a Nosferatu like Birthday. He had never seen her true form, as unlike him, she chose to perpetually Obfuscate herself as a beautiful woman. I had a brief moment of wonder – could I do that? Make myself attractive? 

“But then I was back in the memories. A Toreador lingered at the edge of my vision, as stunning and terrifying as Desirée. She had the Sight but had been cast off by the clan for some reason I could not find. Something in Birthday held her back from me. He was protecting her. The four of them had formed a small coterie. Hangers-on to the Camarilla, but not part of it. Tolerated, if only to serve as a warning bell if the Sabbat drew too close to Alexandria’s southern border. They’d been here twenty years, and Birthday was content. He’d felt safe here. At least, until, a terrifying pack of vampires had stalked into town, killing campers and homeless people and stealing blood from the hospital. Us, I realized with a jolt. We were the monsters in his story.”