The Unseen Trilogy

by Stephanie Erickson

  “Right, but it’s dangerous. If you can’t keep them in the prison, you risk giving them control of your mind or worse. Plus, the concentration it takes to do anything in the real world while keeping someone trapped in your mind is ridiculous.” I paused as I considered the realistic possibilities this technique might have for us. “It’s not perfect.”

  “No, nothing is,” she said as she gathered her things. “But it’s a start.” She squeezed my shoulder and left the room.

  In the days that followed, Rebecca pushed me in a way Tracy never had. She created fake or unimportant memories for me to destroy, told me how it felt, and then showed me how to do it better. Her method was much more elegant than mine—she almost dissolved them instead of just crushing them and moving on. We practiced control, pushing each other out, reading each other’s thoughts, everything. But I still felt like we were one step behind the Potestas. These were all things they already knew how to do.

  While Rebecca and I were sequestered in our own little world, everyone else was buried in research on the Potestas. Our division had been charged with finding as much information as possible to help those in the Unseen’s Washington headquarters. While we worked in the training rooms, Mitchell and the others were scouring the Internet, secure databases, and any other intel they could hack into for everything they could find out about Zero, its location and quantities, where it might be unleashed next, and who would be responsible for doing it.

  One day, toward the end of the week, we were sitting in the training room just looking at each other, when a question occurred to me. “What do you typically need on a mission?”

  “Well, focus…and sometimes reinforcements.”

  “Right. But you don’t always know you need reinforcements until you’re knee deep in it, right?”

  “Right…” She trailed off, not quite understanding what I was getting at.

  “And reinforcements often take too long to arrive. You’re left to make decisions for yourself on the fly.”

  “Yes. Thinking on your feet is an important skill for our agents.”

  “But what if we could hear one another and communicate while we’re out on missions?” I stood up and paced around the room as the idea worked itself out in my head.

  “Well, that would be very useful. You could have direct access to the researchers for more information, or to David for advice and help. Or you could talk someone through a tight spot.”

  “But there would be drawbacks.”

  “Like what?” she asked, clearly not ready to stop listing the positives.

  “Well, if you were captured, it could theoretically create a direct line for the Potestas to everyone here.”

  Her mouth opened, and then shut as she leaned back in her chair, all the excitement draining out of her.

  “Now, I don’t think we should abandon the idea entirely. I just think we need to come up with a failsafe—a way to hide or defend the connection in the event of danger. Much like the way we protect our own minds.”

  “All missions are dangerous, Mac. Every time we leave the compound, we risk getting caught.”

  I nodded. “All the more reason to have as many reinforcements as possible, don’t you think?”

  That night, I rushed to the hospital wing to see Owen, excited to share my idea with him. I’d been to see him every night, but I felt different tonight. No amount of his gloom could bring me down.

  I bounded into his room and started in immediately. “What do you think of this idea? What if we were able to communicate internally even when we weren’t in the same room, when we were out on assignment, say?”

  He thought for a moment, and I felt heartened by the fact he was actually considering my question. “Well, I’d say that would be a pretty helpful skill. Particularly since it seems like I’m never going to get out of this hospital bed for any respectable length of time. I fear I may melt and meld with the bed.”

  “Then you really would be a Sesame Street monster. I’m pretty sure Bert and Ernie had a talking bed at one point.”

  Instead of laughing, he morosely stared at the ceiling. “Hey, I heard they were going to let you go up to your room soon,” I said, changing gears. “What happened to that?”

  “Soon. That’s what happened. They won’t give me a date. They won’t say if soon means tomorrow or next week. I’m sick of being in here. I want out. I want to work with you guys. I want to be part of this.”

  His frustration was plain on his face, and I think if he could have reached for something, he would’ve thrown it.

  I sighed. “Owen, you have a long, hard road ahead of you. Why are you so eager to start walking on it, when you should be resting and building up your strength for the journey?”

  “Isn’t that poetic?” The contempt in his voice stung, and it must’ve shown on my face, because he softened a bit. “The sooner I start walking the road, the sooner I come out on the other side. That’s all.”

  I moved to his bedside and sat down. “That’s probably true. But the stronger you are, the further you’ll be able to walk. Please,” I begged. “Anyway, just yesterday, you were whining about therapy being too much work. Sounds like your taskmaster nurse won’t let you ‘meld with the bed,’ if you ask me.”

  He chuckled a little, and the sound made my heart sing. “She must’ve taken a page from Tracey’s book. She’s merciless.”

  “It’s good for you. Builds character,” I said, wanting to take his hand but still unsure if I could touch his brand-new skin. Instead, I rested my hand near his, so our fingers—his peeking out of his bandages—barely touched. He’d been doing therapy in some form since before he woke up. At first, it was just the nurse moving his body around. But now, they were making him move himself, walk, lift things, pushing him to his limits every day, but on a much more basic—and frustrating—level than what Rebecca and I were doing.

  He was quiet for a moment. “The world is collapsing to chaos around us. And I can barely get my pants down to go to the bathroom by myself.” I knew he was talking about the attack at the British Museum. The last of the memorials had been held, and ISIS still refused to take responsibility. The media’s resolve that ISIS was responsible was starting to crumble, but no one else was stepping forward to claim it. Half the general public’s panic was a result of a very understandable fear of the unknown. Of course, we knew who was responsible, and worse, that they’d strike again before this was over, which didn’t help me rest any easier than the average Joe.

  “Owen, this is talk for another day. A day when there aren’t so many other things to worry about.”

  “There will always be other things to worry about. Why shouldn’t we worry about the lives of thousands of people today? Just because I’m lying in a hospital bed with injuries from the very chemical the Potestas are using to attack innocent people?”

  “I just meant that there are other people who are dealing with this situation. Today, you’re not one of them. Maybe you will be tomorrow, but for now, this isn’t your concern.”

  That turned his mood even darker. “It should be my concern. Of everyone here, I know firsthand what Zero can do. I should be helping to stop it.” He paused for a moment, considering what to say. “Mackenzie, this is bigger than you or me. I don’t mean to sound dramatic, but this toxin could be used to end the world as we know it. They’re going to need every one of us to stop it. This is no time for me to act like an invalid. Every second counts in this battle. I should be helping.”

  “You are. You will. You’ve been included in all the meetings via Skype. Please be content with helping us in that capacity until you can help yourself. You need to concentrate your energy on your recovery, instead of focusing on all the bad things in life,” I begged. His mood was starting to worry me. “Seriously Owen, soon is better than never. And soon, you’ll be out of here and back in action.”

  “Soon might as well be never,” he muttered, but even though I understood his frustration, I ignored him. Honestly, I didn�
��t know what else to do. I wasn’t sure how to help him. All I could do was hope.

  On my way back to my room, I found Mitchell watching TV with Rebecca. They were sitting on the couch together, their legs just barely touching. I smiled to myself and cleared my throat. “Mitchell. A word?”

  Rebecca smiled as he got up, and the complete adoration I saw in her eyes made it even more difficult to hide a grin of my own.

  We maneuvered the main walkway to the secondary door, then went out and sat near the edge of the lake. It took the better part of three minutes to make our way outside, but we didn’t speak.

  The night sky was filled with thousands of stars, more than I’d ever seen when I lived in Florida. Light pollution there made it impossible to see so many systems. But in the shadow of the mountains around us, stars shone so brightly it seemed like I could reach up and grab a handful of them.

  Taking a deep breath, I told Mitchell what was on my mind. “I’m worried about Owen.”

  “Mmhmm,” he said, looking out over the water as he picked at a long piece of grass.

  “I think his attitude is hurting his recovery.”

  “Agreed.”

  “What can we do?” I asked, not considering for a moment that the man next to me wouldn’t have an answer. He knew Owen like a brother. He would know how to help.

  “Nothing, really. He’ll come out of it on his own, when he’s ready.”

  “But what if he doesn’t?”

  “And he goes on a killing rampage?” He looked sidelong at me, and I smacked him. Regardless of whether or not what I’d done to Washington had been right, or just, I’d never live it down.

  “Well!” I said with a hint of indignation.

  “We both came through our ordeals okay. He will too. Just give him time.” He stood up and brushed the grass off his pants, but I wasn’t quite ready. The man I loved was hurting. I couldn’t just sit idly by while he wasted away.

  “With everything that’s going on, I’m not sure he’ll get the time he needs.” Owen was right. The Potestas were on the move, and it was only a matter of time before their real intentions were revealed.

  “Well, maybe that’ll be the kick in the pants he needs, hmm?” He held his hand out to me and hoisted me onto my feet. Apparently, we were done talking, whether I liked it or not.

  “He’s already had a pretty good kick in the pants,” I said, almost under my breath. We were quiet as we made our way back to the door, so I wasn’t sure he’d heard me.

  He came to a stop on the path and turned to face me. “Listen, Owen is wired differently than you and me. Even though his whole family died around him, he wasn’t bitter. He’s…” He trailed off.

  “He’s more forgiving,” I filled in. I had reason to know. Considering the self-righteous way I’d acted after discovering the Unseen’s true purpose—that we existed to wipe out terrorists before they could carry out their murderous plots—Owen had forgiven me rather quickly for taking justice into my own hands with one of Maddie’s killers.

  Mitchell nodded as we went back inside. “He’ll come around, you’ll see.”

  I followed him back into the living room, where Rebecca welcomed him with a glowing smile, and I couldn’t help but notice the glimmer in his eyes as he reclaimed his seat next to her.

  He’d been broken once, but you wouldn’t know it to look at him. That could happen for Owen too. And it would. Soon, I hoped.

  In the meantime, all I had to do was find a way to save the world from Zero. The weight of it made me hunch over a little as I made my way to my room.

  “Sure. No problem. Just save the world,” I said as I leaned on the inside of my bedroom door, in the middle of a mountain, where no one could hear me.

  Three

  Rebecca and I worked through the weekend, trying to establish a strong, stable connection between us that would not sever at a distance. It was frustrating at first. She could hear me, and I could hear her just fine, but as soon as we got out of range, it was over. And our range was frustratingly short. Only a few yards if we couldn’t see each other, further if we could. But the whole point was to be able to do it over thousands of miles.

  By Sunday night, we were both feeling a little defeated. We sat in the training room in silence, each staring off into our own world.

  I was so burned out from the last forty-eight hours, I wasn’t really thinking about anything at all. But still, I reached out lazily for nothing in particular. It was then I noticed Rebecca’s mind was recognizable, unique. Her mind had a signature, so to speak. It felt warm and bubbly. It packed everything that made her her into this tiny little ball of light, feeling, and energy. What would happen if I hung on to that signature as I moved farther away from her?

  Hey, I thought as I stood up.

  Hey yourself. Where ya going?

  Just roll with me.

  You got it, especially if it means I get to stay here. She leaned back in her chair and rested her head against the wall.

  Don’t fall asleep!

  You’re quite the taskmaster. She gave me a wink as I walked out of the training room and closed the door behind me.

  I walked all the way across the floor before I tried to speak to her. But I knew it would work, because I could still feel her. Her signature stood out to me now.

  Still there?

  Yeah, where are you? she asked

  Heading toward the kitchen.

  You’ve done it!

  Maybe. I didn’t want to jump the gun, so I kept walking. I wasn’t sure when I would feel sure that I had, in fact, done it, but two rooms over wasn’t instilling enough confidence to stake a mission on our ability to train the others in this newfound skill.

  Once I was outside, I tried again. It’s nice out tonight. Getting pretty cold.

  Are you outside?

  No, I’m just checking the weather on my phone. Of course I’m outside, I teased.

  This is amazing! Come back in here and tell me how to do it!

  Her enthusiasm made me pick up my pace as I headed back toward the training room. I’d done it. I’d created a connection to another mind that could withstand distance. The question was—could I repeat it?

  On my way back to the training room, I grabbed David. Just like in our old place, his new office was near the training rooms, and I wondered if that placement was standard in all Unseen facilities. I knocked on his door and popped my head inside.

  “You busy?”

  He looked up from some files. His new space was bigger, with a huge, modern black desk in the center of the room. There were two big, black cabinets with frosted glass doors on the top half of the wall and massive file drawers on the bottom behind him. I wondered if one of them was the door to his apartment, or if that was hidden somewhere else in the room. “That depends on what you want.” By the look of his smile, his threat was empty.

  “Can you help us out for a second?”

  “Oh, sure. I’ll be there in just a moment.” He gathered his papers together, and I left him to it, knowing he’d follow soon.

  What’s taking you so long? Rebecca asked just as I was walking back into the room.

  “I wanted reinforcements to see if I can duplicate the experiment. The results are nothing but coincidence unless you can reliably duplicate them.”

  “I didn’t know you were such a scientist.”

  I was too excited to acknowledge her quip. “Once we’ve done that, we need to figure out how to protect the connection. Then I can teach you how to do it. But not before. That way we won’t risk you getting inadvertently captured and exposing all of us.”

  She frowned. “Well, I don’t have any dangerous kamikaze missions on my calendar yet, but if one pops up, you’ll be the first to know.”

  She ignored my laughter, reluctantly relenting. “You’re right, of course. But aren’t I the one who’s in charge of training?”

  My smile turned mischievous. “Are you?”

  She threw a wad of paper at me just as Davi
d walked in.

  “David. This is a nice surprise,” she said, and I could tell she meant it.

  “Mackenzie asked me to pop in.”

  I nodded toward him. “Duplicate,” I said to Rebecca.

  “Ah. Good. This will be fun,” she said, but David looked skeptical.

  “The last time I helped you with your training, Tracy nearly got lost in your head. I’m not sure what you have in mind, but I’d rather not be your guinea pig.”

  “Come on, you big chicken.” His skeptical expression made me push a little harder. “Da-vid, please?” I stumbled over his name because Dad was on the tip of my tongue, but I held the word back. I didn’t relish the idea of calling him Dad for the first time to manipulate him into doing things my way.

  He sighed heavily. “Fine. But I swear, if something happens to me, you do not want to be in charge of this place. These kids are a bunch of renegade vigilantes,” he said to Rebecca.

  “I prefer spirited, loyal individuals, but whatever. Also, we’re not kids.” Of course, David hadn’t known me when I was a kid. Back then, I’d been more of a rule follower.

  He looked at me with a bit of nostalgia in his eyes. “You are to me.”

  Rebecca chuckled. “Aw. That’s sweet.” She knew David was my father just like everyone else in our group did. His secret had stopped being…well, secret, the minute he invited me to join the Unseen.

  “Just get it over with,” he grumbled

  Reaching out for him, I felt for his signature. I could still pinpoint Rebecca, which I took as a positive. But David was harder to pick out. Maybe it was because he was my dad. Or maybe his signature was better disguised. I couldn’t really say. Several silent minutes passed. Eventually, David got antsy.