Unforgiven (17 page)

The despair I felt was difficult to describe. It was more than hopelessness.

Looking over at Tracy’s body, I asked, “What do I do? How can I fix this?”

She just lay there like she was sleeping. “Tracy!” I yelled. “People’s lives are at stake here. A lot of people’s lives. What should I do? How could I stop this?”

Silence answered me again. Sighing wearily, I turned away from her lifeless body. “I don’t know either.”

At first, I ran, hoping I could outpace the darkness. But when that didn’t happen, I ran out of steam.

Then I started to walk. I put one foot in front of the other, just to be doing something. My mind alternately was filled with everything and nothing. One moment, it swirled with worries—Owen, David, Mitchell, the Unseen, Coda, and the people of the world—the next, it was totally blank as I wandered aimlessly in the depths of Shields’ mind.

The darkness was odd. There was nothing but blackness all around me, and yet, I could still see myself and where I was walking. It never seemed to change no matter how far I walked. But I never turned back to check on my progress. Really, I didn’t want to know. Besides, I wasn’t trying to escape. Well, maybe that wasn’t entirely true. I wasn’t trying to escape Shields; I was trying to escape myself. I needed to get away, get some peace, so I could figure out what to do next.

After what felt like days of walking, the darkness finally began to lift. The sun rose across a beautiful white sand beach with crystal clear waters lapping gently at its edge. The sound of the waves calmed my despairing mind and drew me closer. I took off my shoes and socks so I could curl my toes in the sugary sand.

I still didn’t turn around. I didn’t need to see the blackness that haunted me. I knew it was there, and although I didn’t understand this unexpected respite I’d found, I couldn’t help but embrace it.

Dipping my foot in the deliciously warm water, I decided to wade in. I didn’t bother taking off my clothes; I just kept walking in until the water closed over my head. Slowly letting the air out of my lungs, I sank to the sandy bottom and sat, letting the current rock me back and forth. I wanted to stay there. Let the ocean take me. End it. At least that way I’d be free, and the others would be safe.

But, defiantly, my lungs demanded air. For a moment, I ignored them, reminding them that this wasn’t real, that they didn’t need air because they had plenty of it wherever the Potestas were keeping me. But eventually, their screaming became louder than the screaming in my mind. Even then, I paused, letting the sound in my head drown out my problems. But instinct finally took over and I broke to the surface, gasping for air.

Reluctantly, I trudged back to the beach, feeling no better than I had before. I’d hoped for some kind of cleansing, some kind of epiphany when I walked into the sea. But there had been nothing. There was no rescue for me.

Dripping wet but not cold, I walked toward the dunes. As I crested them, I saw a beautiful meadow of wildflowers spread out before me. It was at once a lovely and odd juxtaposition of scenery. A clear lake sat quietly off to one side while a huge snowcapped mountain cast a lovely reflection on the water. And there, at the edge of the lake, sat a lovely little log cabin. Longing to rest, I walked through the field of color toward my shelter.

As I got closer, I realized part of the cabin actually extended out over the water. Before going inside, I walked out onto the deck and sat dangling my toes in the water. It was cold, much colder than the ocean I’d just come from, but not uncomfortable. Sitting there, I pleaded for the peace that surrounded me to overtake my mind. When it didn’t, I reluctantly decided to explore.

The interior of the cabin was everything I’d ever wanted in a home without realizing it. The huge entryway opened into a living room area, complete with a baby grand piano. How long had it been since I’d sat at the bench? Too long. I stroked the keys longingly, wondering if I had the courage to play.

Not now
, I thought as I looked around the cabin. It had looked small from the outside, but inside, it was spacious. Windows lined almost every wall, providing lovely views of the meadow, the lake, and the mountain. I ventured upstairs and found the bedroom. The bed was huge and inviting with plush bedding and at least a dozen pillows. But before I could collapse into it and let the darkness take me, I walked over to the window. From that vantage point, I could see the gently rolling waves of the beach just beyond the edges of the meadow. It was lovely, odd, and perfect all at the same time.

“What is this place?” I asked aloud.

“It’s your own personal paradise,” the voice answered. After being in silence for so long, the sound startled me.

“My what?” I looked around the room. It was true. Right down to the personal touches. A guitar sat near the bed, and there was a keyboard on the other side of the room. Both looked identical to my own instruments. The walls were decorated with abstract pictures of instruments and framed sheet music. Bold reds and blacks accented the soft white linens on the bed. It was a perfect retreat for me, complete with a to-die-for view.

Was that what had happened? Had I died? But how could this be heaven if that voice was there with me?

“We thought we might as well keep you comfortable during your imprisonment.”

My imprisonment.
So I wasn’t free, and I wasn’t dead. I’d accomplished nothing in my wanderings. The rage that had been building inside me since I first saw my own face in that projection finally boiled over.

I picked up the guitar by the neck and swung it, sending the lamp on the bedside table flying. Again and again, I swung the guitar until it was toothpicks. Then I picked up the keyboard and smashed the windows with it, turning next on the beautiful cherry wood dresser and mirror, the bookshelves lining the walls, anything within my line of sight. Seeing a shard of glass, I picked it up and went to work on the bedding, shredding it into ribbons.

As the feathers flew, a picture on the ground caught my eye. The glass in the frame was broken, but the image behind remained untouched. Maddie had her arm around me, and she was giving me a broad smile. I wore an equally joyful expression. The piece of glass fell from my miraculously undamaged hand, and I held the picture tightly. I ran my thumb across Maddie’s face, needing her help, wondering how I’d gotten so lost so fast in her absence. My rage dissolved into sadness, and silent tears coursed their way down my cheeks as I stared at her face.

“And that’s why you’ll never escape. I don’t even have to work to keep you here,” the voice said, chuckling softly. “You’ll do it for me.”

“What does that mean?” I asked, but his laughter drowned out my words.

As it faded, the projection screen returned. It wasn’t Shields’ point of view I was seeing—it was my own. I was walking, rather stiffly, across the parking lot to the facility of the Unseen.

Horrified, I watched as I easily passed through all the facility’s outer security measures and slipped inside. And why not? I belonged there.

It’s begun,
I thought.
And there’s not a damn thing you can do except watch the world come crashing down around you.

As I went deeper and deeper into the facility, I held my breath, knowing I shouldn’t be there, but I was powerless to stop it. I couldn’t control my own body, and in that moment, I realized how terrible Washington’s fate had been.

The voice came back when I made it to the main floor. “Congratulations. You have officially gotten us deeper into enemy territory than any other agent in history.”

“Fuck you,” I said through gritted teeth as I watched myself, glued to the projection.

Across the room, Owen was slouched lazily on the couch, watching a movie. His arm was in a sling, and his face was black and blue in places, but he was alive, as were the others who sat near him. Mitchell and Camden both caught sight of me before Owen did, but they let him greet me first.

He got up, grimacing only slightly, and ran to me. Cinching me to him with his one good arm, he didn’t speak for a few moments as the others gathered around. Owen’s breath was coming in short gasps, and I struggled to hold it together.
That’s not me
, I wanted to scream.
Get away from her!
Anything to make him understand the horror that was about to befall him and the others. Instead, I just watched it happen, like a soap opera on television.

As he hugged me, I noticed my body didn’t relax into him like it usually did. I remained stiff as a board as Owen and the others shared an outpouring of emotion.

“What happened?” Owen finally asked me.

“They let me go.” The words were just as robotic as my movements, and I couldn’t help but laugh. Surely, my friends would see through this act.

Owen’s voice brought my attention back to the screen. “What do you mean, they let you go?”

“They let me go,” I repeated in the same robotic tone.

Mitchell stepped forward and took a long look into my eyes. He scrutinized me in a way that sparked a tiny bit of hope. Climbing down off the bed, I moved closer to the projection.

“Mitchell,” I whispered.

His eyes narrowed as he looked right at me on the screen. Frowning, he pulled back and mumbled something into Owen’s ear.

Owen nodded and took the robot’s hand. I looked down at my hand, empty and cold in the destroyed room, and then looked back to the projection half a world away.

Owen led me down to David’s office, with a few of the others in tow. If he noticed any stiffness in my gait, he didn’t comment on it.

Part of me hoped my body would fall down the stairs if it kept walking like that, ending this farce once and for all. That way, none of my friends would have to die. Unfortunately for me, we made it to the bottom.

Owen didn’t even knock before he went into David’s office.

“David. It’s good to see you,” I said in that strange, stiff voice. But it wasn’t me; it was them playing their sadistic little game. He looked up at me from some file he was poring over. His face was haggard, with dark bags under his eyes and a five o’clock shadow that looked more like an eleven o’clock shadow.

“Mackenzie.” It came out like an exhalation as he rushed over and took me in his arms. He’d never hugged me before, and I could tell the robot didn’t respond. I didn’t see my hands go around his neck or torso or anything. I just stood there, letting him hug me.

David didn’t seem to notice. “What happened to you?” he asked as he pulled back and helped me into one of the chairs in front of his desk. He sat on his desk and faced me while Owen took the seat next to mine.

“They let me go.” It sounded exactly the same the third time as it had the first two. There’d been no change in tone or inflection, and the statement hadn’t become any smoother with practice.

“Why?”

I didn’t answer.

I couldn’t believe it. They hadn’t worked out even the simplest of cover stories? Or were they having more trouble controlling my body than they’d expected? I wasn’t sure which option to hope for. Either way, the odds seemed to be tipping slightly in my favor.

David leaned forward and looked deep into my eyes. I hoped they appeared as vacant as they actually were. He was my father. He would see, wouldn’t he?

“Mackenzie, the Potestas don’t just let people go. What happened?”

“I don’t remember.” I saw David glance doubtfully at Owen, who frowned in response.

“Owen, how did she get here? Did you see a car? Where did she come from?”

Owen shook his head. “I don’t know. She just appeared in the living room. We were watching a movie, and I looked up to see her standing there as still as a statue.”

“This is ridiculous,” I shouted at the projection. “David! David! Don’t tell her anything! It’s a trap! David! Look at me! Don’t you see?”

“Mackenzie, are you okay?” The robot didn’t respond, so he went further. “Your eye is twitching.”

Apparently, my body must have brought my hand to my eye and rubbed it, because half the screen went dark.
My eye twitched,
I thought. Had I done that? Could I use it to communicate with them?

“Maybe I can help fill in the gaps for you,” he started. Caught in my snare, I screamed hopelessly and helplessly at David to stop talking, not to tell them anything, but the robot me just kept rubbing my eye.

Yes, keep rubbing that eye,
I thought, willing David to notice, but he didn’t.

“We believe Shields was a more formidable foe than we anticipated,” David said.

“Well
duh,
” I shouted, making the robot take another swipe at her eye.

“Do you need some eye drops or something?” David asked, veering from his story.

Yes! He’s noticing.

But the robot didn’t respond. Apparently, that question was outside her script.

Letting out a tense breath, he continued on with his explanation, adding to my frustration. “He managed to take out Tracy somehow.” He paused, searching my face for a reaction to the news that my friend and colleague had died. The robot gave no such response. He cleared his throat and started to continue, but Owen piped up.

“We could tell something was wrong. Tracy called out for me to run, and then shit hit the fan. The other members of the Potestas who were milling around ambushed us. A bunch of us managed to get away by using your defensive technique. But I couldn’t leave you. Mitchell and I tried to get you down, but they flanked us, ten against two. I told Mitchell to run, and he did, so he managed to get away fairly unscathed. I wasn’t so lucky. But they let me live.”

“Strangely,” David added. “This whole thing is a bit strange.” He circled his desk and sat down heavily in the huge, executive-style chair. “Why kill Tracy and no one else? And it’s not at all like them to let two members of our ranks go free, particularly one as high profile as you, Mackenzie.”

“To be fair, we did get a few good shots in. Camden had no trouble taking out the guy who tried to get him. It was a little comical actually. This puny little white guy ran at him like he thought he was going to best him in hand-to-hand combat or something. Camden clotheslined him, and then tried to take control of his mind. When he didn’t have any luck, he moved on.”

“Camden couldn’t take control of some puny punk?” I asked, but of course, they couldn’t hear me from my prison.

“Your tactics with the Unseen are a bit… primitive,” the voice said.

“So, you
are
still there,” I said, a smile spreading across my face. The voice went silent again, but I didn’t need him to respond. I knew he was there.

For some reason, that gave me hope. Maybe he knew his little scheme wasn’t working and he was pissed. For as ill equipped as Shields and my former aunt seemed to think the Unseen were, I knew the truth. Someone would notice something was wrong. All I had to do was wait.

“At any rate, while they were busy with me, they must’ve taken you away.” Owen’s voice was quiet and distant. I sensed his guilt, and I wanted so desperately to reach for him, to tell him I was okay, even if I wasn’t. But the betrayer didn’t do any of those things. She simply sat stock-still, looking back and forth between the two men in the office with her.

David picked up the story then. “You were gone for over two weeks. We thought you…” He hesitated, clearly not wanting to say what they’d thought. “Well, at any rate, I’m certainly glad we were wrong.”

“You shouldn’t be,” I said aloud, but only the voice heard me.

“You’re right about that,” it said.

Something about what David had said caught me.
Two weeks.
I tried to calculate in my head what that meant—what date it had to be—but I was having trouble keeping up.

Then, my own voice, delivered by the robot, interrupted my train of thought. “Coda.”

“Yes,” David responded. “We’ve made very little progress there.”

“They have a mole in the faculty. They will release the chemical called Zero. Find them to stop it.” I was speechless. The betrayer, the robot, was leading them all to their deaths.

“
Nooo!
” I screamed. “Don’t listen to her! You’ll all die.” The projection cut in and out, as if the robot was blinking rapidly, but David didn’t notice. He was too preoccupied with what the robot had said.

David’s eyes first went wide at the implications of my words, and then narrowed as he thought about it. “How is it that you remember this little tidbit and not what happened to you?”

The betrayer sat there silently and stared back at David. He didn’t look away.

“Good! Keep challenging her, David! Don’t believe a word of it!” I cheered.

“Coda is starting tomorrow, Mackenzie. We don’t have time to research which faculty member might be a mole. We need to save our men for the larger picture. I sense something more is going on here.”

“More than the potential deaths of more than twenty thousand people?” Owen’s voice startled me. “David, we can’t just let them die.”

“It’s Professor Marcia Peterson.” I blanched at betrayer robot’s words.

“How far are you planning to take this? How many people in my life are going to die at your hands?” I asked the voice.

“All of them.”