The Unseen Trilogy

by Stephanie Erickson

  I made another effort to find Agusto. There was still only the void. “What are you, some kind of robot?” I said out of frustration. Agusto laughed, and I heard him stop struggling.

  “You’ll never be able to find your way inside my mind.”

  “Don’t bet on it,” I said, trying to think fast. The guard was so close to the void that I could almost feel it, feel him, but almost wasn’t good enough.

  “You three, can you get closer to him?” I pointed to the three guards separating me from Agusto.

  That left one standing at my side. “Maybe you should watch the door?” He nodded and walked stiffly to the door. That still left Amanda’s secret door unguarded, but it was a risk I had to take at the moment.

  “Okay good. One on each side, please?” I asked the guards, and they positioned themselves around him.

  Closing my eyes again, I tightened my focus. The void was so obvious now, but I had no idea how to penetrate it. With four minds on all sides of him, it felt almost like a black hole of nothing in the middle of so much activity.

  As I got closer to finding him, I heard him start to struggle again. His laugh changed from confident to slightly nervous. “You’ll never find me. My defenses are flawless. They were created by the best readers in the world.”

  “Created?” I asked, coming back to myself.

  But the original guard holding him begged me to keep working. “We don’t have much time, Mackenzie. He’s just trying to distract you, and it’s working. Keep going.”

  But the phrase bothered me. Why would his defenses have been created by some of the best mind readers in the world? I thought about Dr. Jeppe. His defenses had been created for him too, but his had been almost laughably bad. This was something different. It was a work of art, as far as defenses were concerned. To another reader, Agusto didn’t exist. How had he accomplished that? Or rather, how had someone else accomplished that for him?

  And, more importantly, why would someone else need to accomplish that for the leader of the Potestas?

  I looked at him, desperately flailing as he tried to escape the guards. “You’re not a reader.” It was a statement, not a question.

  In that moment he stopped struggling and got very still. A smile crept its way across my face as I let that truth reveal him to me.

  He was a fraud.

  Tracy’s words came back to me one last time. Reality is a fluid concept in the world of the mind. It’s real because your mind believes it to be. His defenses weren’t real. Creative to be sure, but they were nothing but lies. And there was nothing inside of him with the ability to bolster them.

  The truth spread away from me, like roots reaching for him, pulling away the void with its tendrils. “The truth will set you free, Agusto,” I said with a smile as I started to feel him.

  Then, all at once, I knew everything.

  I had always assumed the Potestas had existed for generations. But I was wrong. The Potestas had popped up fairly recently, started by a young Agusto Masterson and his best friend, a rather talented and sadistic reader gone rogue from the Unseen.

  I watched as they slowly gained followers over time, ones like Washington, who staunchly supported their cause and justified their means to an end, and others like Amanda, who got in over their heads and became too afraid to leave. They made empty promises, meaningful threats, anything they could to attract supporters.

  Agusto was extremely charismatic, as I already knew, but his friend wasn’t. He was creepy, and people shied away from him. Agusto felt they were losing too many readers to his attitude, so he approached him about adopting a softer approach. His friend refused. Agusto persisted, saying it was for the greater good, and implored him to think of their dream, their bigger picture.

  They wanted so badly to overthrow the Unseen. They’d reprimanded Agusto’s friend for his sadistic ways, prompting his AWOL status, and he’d never forgotten or forgiven it. For him, taking over the world one step at a time was no more than bonus. It was necessary because of the number and variety of Unseen chapters across the world.

  But Agusto disagreed. For him, felling the Unseen was no more than an excuse for him to gain the power he’d always wanted.

  It ended in a fight, leaving Agusto’s best friend, the only person with whom he’d shared a meaningful relationship, dead. Somehow, it surprised me that Agusto didn’t seem to feel any remorse over the act. In fact, he seemed pleased that he wouldn’t have to share his empire with anyone else.

  After that, I flashed forward a decade, maybe two, and watched him hatch the idea of Zero. He gave the project to Dylan Shields and their newest—and most promising—recruit, Amanda, who in turn recruited the members they would need to successfully complete the project. It was hard to see Amanda so full of life. She’d been so pumped, so excited about the new direction her life was taking.

  But it all crumbled as I watched. He tortured her for information, trying to piece together how one of their most valuable assets had slipped through his fingers. He struggled to understand what it meant for him, and whether it would affect the success of his plan.

  And I saw his plan laid out in front of me, like blueprints. He didn’t intend to stop once he was declared president of the U.S. After all these years, he was a patient man. Slowly but surely, he would extend his tentacles out into the world, taking it over country by country, until he had control of all the world’s resources. His terrorist tactics wouldn’t end with Zero. He would buy a weapons company to help fuel the wars in the Middle East—not only supporting, but also controlling groups like ISIS. And then he planned to take control of the world’s economy by bending the oil companies to his whim, driving the cost of gas up so high that no one would be able to afford to drive anywhere, halting transport of all kind until he said go. All in the name of bringing down the Unseen for a perceived wrong that wasn’t even his to claim.

  It was a nightmare, a living nightmare. Once everything he knew was out in the open, I didn’t know what to do. Slowly, I came back to myself, but I almost collapsed right there. The urge to fall to my knees from total and utter hopelessness was overwhelming.

  The guards looked at me, waiting, and I had no idea what to do. They were all still holding him, and Agusto was staring at me, knowing he’d been violated. His eyes were wide, frantic, and feral. But now that I knew him for who he was, his fear didn’t bother me a bit.

  “I thought you hated liars,” I said. He didn’t respond. “You’re one of the worst liars of all. You don’t have any special talent, except maybe the power of deception.”

  “Do you have what you need?” asked the guard who had restrained him first.

  I nodded, and he reached around and took Agusto in a hold by the neck. Before too long, he collapsed into unconsciousness. Then, just like that, the three guards around him fell to the ground, as did the guard at the door, leaving the original guard the only one standing.

  He was looking directly at me.

  Twenty One

  Stunned, I stared the original guard down, not sure what he had in mind at this point. Was he still an ally of sorts? Before I could make a move, he spoke to me.

  “Well, you people have really managed to pull something off here, haven’t you?” His eyes were clearing. Blind rage replaced the vacancy I’d seen there only moments ago.

  “Who are you?” I asked, still reeling.

  “Someone who’s stronger than these other guards, apparently.” He reached around behind him, and I knew he was going for his gun. I had to act fast, but I was tired of being on my toes, tired of trying to stay one step ahead of all these people who were trying to kill me.

  The lag hurt me, and before I could stop him, he leveled his weapon at me. “Enough mental games. This ends right here, right now.”

  The door opened behind us, and he looked over my shoulder.

  A shot rang out, and I screamed. I’d been shot. Even though I felt nothing, I knew that one of the enemies who’d surrounded me for weeks must have finall
y ended my life. It had to be shock or something that was blocking out the pain. I thought of Owen, David, Maddie, and Mitchell in those long, taut moments.

  Then the feeling of a hand clasping my shoulder brought me back to the world, back to that office where bodies were strewn around the floor. One more lay at my feet with a gunshot wound in his head.

  I braced myself to see an enemy as I turned around. But it wasn’t an enemy at all, and I threw myself into his open arms.

  “Daddy,” I breathed into his chest as he hugged me close to him.

  “It’s okay. Everything is okay now,” he said, but I wasn’t sure which one of us he was trying to reassure. He pulled back, and I saw Owen waiting in the doorway, along with Mitchell, Rebecca, and Camden—one for each guard.

  No wonder the guards felt so familiar, I thought as I surveyed my rescuers.

  “How did you guys get in?” I asked, almost breathless.

  “Very carefully. The police milling around due to Amanda’s untimely death presented an added challenge, but they’ve dispersed now, with some…ahem…encouragement. Mitchell’s been working on disassembling their security for weeks in the event of a storm-the-castle approach. Thanks to him, we didn’t have to worry about pesky things like cameras and keycards,” David answered, and all I could do was smile. They had been there for me when it mattered most. All along, they’d been keeping me safe from behind the scenes.

  David released me and I went to Owen, feeling like laughing and crying all at once. Mitchell didn’t let me fall apart.

  “We don’t have all day for emotional reunions, Mac. Need I remind you that we’re in enemy territory?”

  Glancing back at Agusto, I saw him stirring. “Why didn’t you kill him too?”

  “He’s our proof,” David said. “We need him. You can’t be the only one who knows who, and what, he is. As long as he has information about the Potestas and Zero, he’s valuable.”

  As he said it, an idea occurred to me. “He’s also our getaway.”

  Now that Agusto’s defenses had been obliterated, I infiltrated Agusto’s mind easily. I even found I could do so while easily maintaining control of myself. I walked him out in front of me, and then followed him out of his office. The rest of our group followed silently behind.

  We made our way to the elevator, and I held my breath as the doors opened. We were reentering a world that didn’t know what had just happened.

  We were careful not to make eye contact as we made our way out of the building and onto the street, but no one even looked our way. Everyone was so afraid of Agusto that we easily exited enemy territory and reentered neutral ground.

  We got into three separate cabs, keeping Agusto with David and me, and made our way back to headquarters.

  The receptionist recognized him right away. “Mr. Masterson,” she said, “what a surprise. It’s a pleasure to have you here. What can we do for you?”

  But David showed her his ID and waved her off. It was the closest we’d come to being stopped.

  Given the time of day, the building was frustratingly populated. So, Mitchell and a few of the others took charge of making people feel like they had somewhere else to be, giving us an opportunity to gain entry to our headquarters.

  Not knowing where else to go, I took him to the main conference room. It was the only private place that was big enough for all of us. Davis was already there.

  “Yes, Mr. President. I assure you, we have our best men and women on the case.” He looked up at us and smiled when he saw Agusto. “And as it happens, they’ve returned with quite the spoils of war, I must say.”

  “Agusto Masterson was indeed a master of deception,” the report declared, documentary style. It had only been a few hours since his apprehension, but word had spread like wildfire, fanned by some well-placed members of the Unseen.

  “Though he was charismatic and loved by the public, most of his employees have come forward to say they were terrified of him, and had received numerous threats from him or his vice president, Amanda Pierce, who died suspiciously in his office earlier today.

  “Now that Masterson is in custody, the full scope of his plan is finally coming to light. But here’s what we know: Masterson was the head of a huge terrorist organization. That organization was in fact responsible for the attacks using Zero.” The reporter paused for dramatic effect while a slideshow of muted video clips and file photos of Agusto played in the background. “It seems the former presidential candidate wasn’t working to protect the world from Zero after all—he was the cause of it. Details are still pouring in about this shocking revelation involving the world’s self-proclaimed savior.”

  The slideshow ended, returning viewers to the newsroom, where the anchors transitioned to a similar story. “In related news, Masterson’s main office building in Washington DC was raided today, resulting in over one hundred and fifty arrests. No injuries have been reported, as most employees are said to have gone with officers quietly.”

  “But not all of them were guilty, David. Some of them weren’t even readers at all. They didn’t know what was going on; they were just trying to earn a living,” I protested as the frame showed droves of people being led away in handcuffs.

  “The innocent will be sorted out, I promise.”

  Nodding, I turned my attention back to the television.

  “Masterson is currently being held behind bars without bail, while authorities gather evidence against him. Nationally, he is currently facing first-degree murder charges for the attack on Coda, the international music festival held in Tallahassee, Florida, last fall. Internationally, it appears he will face a myriad of charges, as the nations wait to take their shot at this outed terrorist.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked, wrinkling my nose at the jargon.

  “It means they’re not ready to divulge all the charges they’re going to throw at him, but they have to charge him with something in order to hold him.”

  I sat back in my chair, relishing the feeling of being surrounded by my family, and reached out for Owen’s hand. It felt so good to be back with them, to be myself again. No one was pretending any more, at least not until the next mission. “Now what? Do we at least get to take a vacation before the next crazy person decides to kill everyone on Earth?”

  David smiled at me, and I felt Owen take my left hand and slip a ring onto my finger. I looked at the ring—a rose gold swirl of diamonds. After studying it for a few moments, I realized it was a sideways treble cleft. I peered into his deep brown eyes, so filled with love, and knew I was finally home.

  “Now, we live,” he said.

  Epilogue

  I sat at the piano, my dress spilling over the back of the bench, the riot of lace and pearls resting in the grass at my feet. I’d always wanted to play outside, and what better occasion than our wedding?

  Owen sat next to me on the bench, watching my hands dance across the keys as I effortlessly played Gaspard de la Nuit for him, and only him, despite the guests who sat at a distance. It was the concert of my life.

  Gaspard possessed me, surrounding us both, and even though I looked into Owen’s eyes rather than at the keys, I didn’t miss a single note. Tears filled both of our eyes as I finished the long piece. Perhaps our guests were bored, but I didn’t care. This wasn’t for them. It was for us. It felt like the end of one chapter of our lives and the beginning of something new and beautiful.

  As the spring breeze carried the notes away, I couldn’t help but let the joy I felt bubble out of me as I threw my arms around my new husband.

  I was not alone at the piano, and I never would be again.

  Acknowledgements (Undivided)

  First, and foremost, I need to thank God. I am blown away by this journey, and the blessings we’ve received along the way. Thank You so much. Even in the tough times, God is good, every day.

  To my wonderful husband: Can you believe it? We made it! The trilogy is finished! Congratulations go to him as much as they do to me, because
he has been such an awesome help. He’s been involved in everything from bouncing ideas off each other to handling the marketing of the series, as well as the business end of things. You are my rock when I wonder if this is all worth it. Thank you. I wouldn’t be here without you.

  To Shannon Mayer, my dear friend and colleague. It’s your fault The Dead World isn’t being published right now, and I think a lot of my readers are very grateful for that. You are such a constant inspiration, and motivator. Thank you for being in my life.

  To my awesome team—Angela, Cynthia, and Damonza—what would I do without you? You all make my books what they are, each with your own touch. They are perfect because of you. I love getting to my publication date, and saying there isn’t a darn thing I would change about this book. And that happens every time. It’s magic that I am so thankful to be a part of.

  My friends, Christian, Mary, and Dannie, I love you. You relentlessly ride the ups and downs with me, and for that, I am forever grateful. Hold on tight! I think this ride is only going to get more fun!

  To my family, Mom, Dad, Shane, you guys are amazing supporters. Thank you for reading my books and telling literally everyone you know, and a lot of people you don’t know, including a lot of radio listeners in Connecticut, about my books. Love you guys!

  That leaves me with you, dear reader. You’ve stayed with me through this entire series. That’s quite a commitment, and for that, I think you are Awesome, with a capital A. Thank you so much for sacrificing your time to spend it with my characters and me. I truly appreciate it, more than I can say.

  Until December guys, happy reading!

  —S

  About the Author

  Stephanie Erickson is an English Literature graduate from Flagler College. She lives in Florida with her family. Undivided is her sixth novel.