Chapter 73
MAGGIE
We spend the rest of the day planning and turn in early after saying goodbyes to Harper and Sarah, who return to Salem as night falls. I don’t let myself think about what’s arranged for tomorrow, or sleep will be impossible. It’s just a long drive, Mags, to drop off some friends.
We set off before dawn, me, Tavi, and another Redhaven woman named Yara sharing the driving in two-hour shifts.
Frey in the back, a tartan blanket over his head, having us in stitches as he wriggles and whines beneath it like a car-sick dog.
I’ve no idea how he can joke, given what we’re driving towards.
We follow the scenic route, giving a wide berth to New Haven and New York and the busier highways where facial recognition tech is being trialled.
That means we swing through Harrisburg, the Penn State capital where Sandra Ortiz’s offices are located.
I wonder when they last saw her there, given how busy she’s been keeping with witch-persecution.
And if she’s had the guts yet to face the son whose magic she destroyed.
I try not to remember how I was the cat’s paw used to track Luka down and bring him in.
I’m at the wheel when, late afternoon and nearly twelve hours later, we approach the outskirts of DC and pull into a mediocre coffee-chain drive-thru. My blood sugar – and my nerves – are demanding a few of its sickly donuts.
‘I’d say this feels like the last meal of a condemned man,’ Frey says as we walk back to the car, in between mouthfuls of a caramel-glazed white-chocolate mocha abandoned in the box coz it’s too sweet even for me. ‘But I’d require something better than this on my way out.’
‘Don’t even joke about it,’ Tavi snaps, watching me warily as I pull out the handcuffs.
‘Last chance. Sure you want to do this?’ I ask him.
‘I’m sure.’
I fasten the cuffs around his wrists. ‘Then I’ll get you as close as I can and stay with you as long as I can.’
The plan is for Tavi and Yara to livestream him, so I loop in DC’s grinding downtown traffic to drop the three of them off.
We’d debated whether the White House would be the best option, given how squarely the President is behind the anti-witchcraft agenda, his party’s control of Congress speeding legislation through.
But I figured that was a quick way to a bullet in Frey’s head from the presidential close protection team – even though Tavi claimed she can shield her boss magically.
Instead, we settled on the time-honoured route of protesters, from the great needle of the Washington Monument, up the Mall toward the Capitol.
Ideally, right to the steps, though let’s see how far Lachlan gets once the cameras start rolling.
Yara has spent the entire journey on her phone, checking in with the Redhaven network of witches’ rights campaigners, and if her planning has gone smoothly – I suspect she’s the sort of woman whose planning only ever goes smoothly – then hundreds among the seeming tourists currently wandering the long green expanse of the Mall are her activists.
They’ll join in livestreaming and form a ring around Frey as he walks, making police interception difficult.
Lachlan hasn’t shared everything he plans to do or say, and my heart is in my throat as I think of Harper and Sarah, who’ll be watching whatever happens next unfold live on their phones, as I will.
I hope we haven’t all made a colossal miscalculation. I hope Frey’s confidence in himself and his abilities – and in the empathy of the American people – isn’t hideously misplaced.
As I force the car into a barely-large-enough parking space and unlock my phone, I think of all the other issues that have brought people to the Mall to protest – gun control, Black unity and solidarity, jobs and workers’ rights.
How many of them truly made a difference?
Will Frey’s actions today achieve anything at all?
I’m not the praying kind, much to my god-fearing daddy’s disappointment, but as I connect to the official Redhaven video platform I offer up a heartfelt plea that Frey’s not making this sacrifice in vain.
Redhaven’s streaming channels haven’t been shut down yet, the tech companies plainly not up to speed with the proscription.
I pick the one on which they’ve most followers, including several news networks and high-profile journalists, who’ll doubtless have been monitoring it in case the organisation issues a response to its prohibition.
The stream is already active, showing a count down:
Going live in 47 … 46 … 45 …
In the comments I see the usernames of journos who’ve been @-ed, and three hashtags.
#Redhaven #LachlanFreysurrender #NoMoreSalems
Then the counter rolls over to zero and there he is, crystal clear audio – the mic went on in the car – and speaking direct to a camera Yara is holding.
‘I’m Lachlan Frey,’ he begins. ‘I’m here in Washington, DC to surrender to federal authorities who claim that I and those like me – people of magical ability – are a threat to your safety and security …’