"To those who seek to awaken I say: welcome, you madmen! You know not what it is you seek, but you are brave enough to take a plunge that could be fatal. We trust in our goddess to save us, but she was once human. Humans are fallible, fickle creatures responsible for more pain and torment than could be imagined. It is an eternal badge of shame that I identify myself as one, but we need not suffer an eternity.
At the risk of plagiarism, only through her can we be saved. Do not mistake this for religion. I do not believe in any power beyond that which I control myself every day. I am merely witness to her miracles and messenger of her power.
Which, of course, is claiming myself a prophet when I repeat this aloud. When did I become so spiritual? I've embraced my own worst nightmare... This entry will be finished later. I need to spend time with Ruby and get my thoughts in order."
~Cinza, the Rallsburg Diaries
"I think she did okay," said Jonathan, sitting on the edge of the bed.
The TV had changed to a generic "stand-by" message, with a text crawl stating that the broadcast had been shut down by order of the New York City mayor's office. Jeremy had only been giving it half his attention, focused on the camera feeds on his laptop.
"Why'd they shut down?" he asked, glancing over.
"Dunno. Maybe they thought Russ was being a dick."
"Can you rewind?"
He shrugged. "It was live."
Jeremy kept watching the feed of the dingy motel walkway, bored out of his mind. "You're sure it was the guy from before following you."
"Yeah. He saw me, and he saw me get in my car and drive this way."
Fuck, what I wouldn't give for a proper surveillance squad right now. Jeremy only had the support of a few volunteer officers from the Tacoma P.D, recently reinstated thanks to a call from the FBI director's office. He wished he'd been there to see the look on Aderholt's face when Hailey flew right through the front door of the station, her lawyer in tow.
Unfortunately, they weren't so forgiving to their own.
Figures. Big difference between filin' legitimate reports that sound crazy, and actually actin' crazy and insubordinate. Jeremy didn't care, so long as they maintained this level of mutual ignorance. He'd rather they let him do what he liked than have to fight through layers of bureaucracy to get anything done.
"Am I gonna be okay?" Jonathan asked, voice shaky. "I'm scared as hell, man."
Jeremy picked up the handheld radio on the table next to his laptop. "Stebbins, check in."
"This is Stebbins. All green. Over," replied the voice of the ex-military officer Jeremy had met back at the bar standoff. Seeing his name on the list of volunteers was a relief—both that he'd been reinstated, and that he was still willing to lend an experienced hand to Jeremy. The other two officers also reported green, which left them once again sitting idle.
"Don't you have schoolwork or some shit to do?" Jeremy asked, glancing over at the pacing kid. "They got it for you from your teachers."
"Yeah. Yeah. I'll do that." Jonathan paused. "Thanks again. For, you know. Protecting me."
"It's my job, kid."
"But didn't you get suspended?"
"Still am, officially."
"So yeah. Thank you."
Jeremy nodded. You wouldn't be singin' the same tune if you knew I was usin' you as bait, kid. If this were just a protection detail, there wouldn't be much reason for Jeremy to be there. He could hold his own in a fight, sure—but he had bigger fish to fry, and a whole hell of a lot more important shit going on than one theater kid in Tacoma.
Rachel, along with Jeremy's sisters and a bevy of trusted lawyers, policy advisors and other hangers-on had been barricaded in Courtney's offices all weekend. After their impromptu meeting on Friday, Courtney agreed to Rachel's demands almost in full, in exchange for cooperation and support. She was determined, as was Maddie, to be the worldwide representative for everything magic-related going forward.
Who the fuck would want that hassle, anyway? Let 'em at it. Jeremy just hoped they didn't tear each other to pieces clawing for supremacy. His sisters had always been very competitive, ever since they first sat on a city council together.
He leaned back in his chair and sighed. The camera feeds hadn't changed in an hour, besides a couple known guests of the cheap motel. "Did you really have to do another fuckin' magic show?"
"I can't just ditch my commitments. I'm trying to build a reputation. I want to get real bookings, you know?"
"You're eighteen. You got time."
Jonathan shook his head. "I gotta jump on this before people catch on, you know?" He glanced at the TV, which had finally swapped over to a pair of talking heads recapping the show. "Everyone knows about magic now. If I already have people to talk to, I can get a new show going right away."
Jeremy grunted noncommittally. He was more interested in the TV now, since it wasn't a bland talk show anymore, but it was turned down so low he could only guess at what they were talking about, and he didn't feel like getting up for the remote.
"Honestly, from what I read online, I'm way ahead of most people," Jonathan went on. "Except for the special ones, I've been picking up new spells faster than anyone. And way better, too. I'm probably the best mage around that's not a Greycloak."
Probably somethin' I missed ignoring half of Rachel's story... "The fuck is a Greycloak?"
"Cinza's followers."
"...'cause they all wear grey cloaks?" Jeremy asked dryly, rolling his eyes.
"...Yeah." Jonathan shrugged. "I think it's pretty dumb too."
"How many of them are there, anyway?"
"...I don't know. Eleven, maybe?"
"Huh." Jeremy got distracted again by the TV, which had switched to something labeled 'Viewer Submitted'. "Turn the volume up," he added, pointing at the remote.
The view was from across the street of the bar in Tacoma, after the police had zoomed up, and after Jeremy had gone in. He watched again as the golems appeared, tossing police cruisers aside, pulling off the front of the building and generally rampaging through the place. It was too clean for a cell phone video though, too well-composed. Staged... they were always planning to rip that place apart.
"With all the news about magic, one courageous viewer submitted this footage early this morning, which we have just finished authenticating. According to multiple experts, the video is genuine. Let's turn to our commentary panel. Your thoughts?"
"Horrifying. To think people are capable of something like that? They're destroying everything. For what?"
"You heard it yourself tonight, Becky. They call us 'humans'. We're beneath them."
"Now hang on, a clear reason for the standoff was never established. The Tacoma P.D. still considers it an open case."
"Come on, Phil. You can see it through the windows. There's Hailey herself, and that... thing, that monster attacking people at random."
"Hailey was trying to save people, wasn't she?"
"Was she? She didn't touch a single person in there. Agent Ashe is the only one actually rescuing people. Hailey seems more concerned with fighting the monster."
"That's a bit of a stretch, Mike. Were you expecting an unarmed FBI agent to take that thing on? It tossed the entire police line."
"I'm just saying. The only deaths in that place were at the hands of those things, same as the ones in Rallsburg. It's us normal people getting caught in the crossfire. Russ had it right—they don't care about us one bit. We're collateral damage."
The debate continued while the video replayed on the side, bringing up witness statements, coroner reports, and details even Jeremy didn't know. Several of the witnesses—people Jeremy had carried out of the damn building—were paraded on screen, calling for action. They'd clearly been prepared for this broadcast after the main event, if not to confront Hailey herself on screen. Who the hell planned all this?
"None of that's true though, right?" Jonathan asked.
"Hell no." Jeremy pulled out his phone, dashing off a text to Maddie about what he'd seen and asking if she needed him to make a statement about the night. "Hailey and I were working together. She saved the fuck outta everyone in that place."
"Right." Jonathan was on his on phone too, his homework totally forgotten. "That's not what everyone's saying though."
"What?"
"Social media." Jonathan flashed his screen at Jeremy, which didn't help him one bit. "It's a whole witch hunt. And it's only getting worse."
"Jesus," Jeremy murmured, as he glanced through the news feeds himself. "The broadcast was shut down by Kendra fucking Laushire."
"So?"
"So a very famous, very rich, very dead person who everyone's gonna immediately connect with magic just tried to suppress a tell-all book about the murder of hundreds of people." Jeremy slouched in his chair, suddenly feeling very exhausted. "If people weren't against you already, they sure as hell are now."
"...Oh."
"I'm just wonderin' why she went public with it," he continued, delving into analysis from his own sources. "You'd think Laushire would keep her name out... ah."
"What?"
"It leaked. 'Sources in the Washington governor's office'." Jeremy tossed his phone on the table in frustration. "Goddamn leeches in Courtney's own fuckin' staff."
"Who's Courtney?"
"My half-sister. Your state governor."
"Wow." Jonathan whistled. "You're like, super important, aren't you?"
"I sure fuckin' hope not." Jeremy leaned up next to the window, peering through the gaps in the blinds. "Looks all quiet," he added, hiding his disappointment.
"Are you leaving?"
"I think you're good, kid." He shrugged. "Not sayin' you weren't in danger, but there's nothin' comin' down the pipe tonight at least."
"Are you sure?" Jonathan's voice pitched up slightly. "That guy knows exactly who I am. What am I supposed to do?"
"Go live your life. He's known who you are for weeks now, yeah?"
"...I guess?"
"So if he was gonna make a move, he probably would have by now." Jeremy shrugged. "These people aren't exactly patient, or well-organized. That shitshow in Tacoma was proof enough." But whoever's pulling the strings clearly knows what's up... This Brian guy? Or someone else?
"But—"
Jesus Christ. "Look, kid. I'll make sure Stebbins keeps an eye on you all night. Sound good?"
"...Okay."
Jeremy relayed the message, then stood up and headed out the door. Lani's car was parked down and around the block, out of sight of the motel. As he walked, he pulled out his phone, bringing up the news feed, both his own personal Bureau feed and the public.
This day has been a fuckin' circus... Hailey managed to grab headlines all day between her explosive landing at the FBI station in the morning, and her public meltdown in front of the whole world that evening. On top of that, Kendra Laushire suppressing the story wasn't doing them any favors.
Rachel and Maddie are waitin'. They'll know what to do next. It's not my job, thank God.
His police scanner was buzzing as he got in the car.
"Ten-fifty-five. Repeat, ten-fifty-five at one-one-oh-two Commerce. Requesting backup."
A bomb threat? In Tacoma? Jeremy stared down at the speaker, dread creeping up through his stomach. Somehow, he knew what was coming next.
"Subject has demonstrated magical abilities, suspected 'awakened'. Officer requesting backup. Over."
Before anyone else could respond, Jeremy snatched up the radio. Thank God I kept this stupid thing. "Copy ten-fifty-five at one-one-oh-two Commerce. Agent Ashe responding. I'm on my way. Over." He jumped into the seat and reached for the keys.
A huge crash of metal deafened him.
Jeremy twisted around. His phone clattered to the floor of the car. A hulking, monstrous shape had erupted behind him, lifting the car up from behind. He reached for the keys again, but his front door was ripped open and flung wide.
"Shit!"
He plunged his hand into his coat for his holstered gun, but a massive block-like hand had him around the waist. He was pulled out, his seatbelt snapping as it stretched past its limit.
Jeremy couldn't move, but the monster didn't seem to be interested in crushing him. He beat against the hand with his fists a few times, but it didn't accomplish anything.
The thing glided across the pavement like it was floating, moving down into a dark alley. Jeremy couldn't see forward, and the thing's grip was too tight to twist around. He heard a car engine start up. Something substantial.
The click of a lock. Jeremy had just a brief glimpse of a covered face before he was dumped into the car. The trunk slammed shut, and they sped off into the night.