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    Unseen
    Unseen
    Unseen
    Ebook41 pages32 minutes

    Unseen

    By Christopher Watson

    ()

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    About this ebook

    In a deadly world of secrets, life in service to a shadow agency means no connections, no ties, and – ultimately – not trusting anyone. In order to safeguard humanity, one must commit atrocities others cannot fathom. One must sacrifice self, but keep from becoming a complete monster. In such a world, Kurt Ramsey holds the only job with a life expectancy shorter than an investigative reporter’s.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherXinXii
    Release dateDec 17, 2013
    ISBN9781625380067
    Unseen

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      Book preview

      Unseen - Christopher Watson

      permission.

      ???? hrs

      I struggle to remain still and assess my surroundings. Though I’m laying, the world ungulates and spins without a discernable pattern. The area smells of barbeque, mustard, and roses. The side of my face is pressed against the moist ground, and the dampness has soaked through my shirt. Something heavy is on my back, and I taste grass. My arms are behind my back; chilly bracelets—handcuffs—hold them there.

      The weight on my back, a knee, shifts. It rocks me, but without my equilibrium settled, everything feels like it is being flung from a building. The move awakens a deep throb just above my right temple, sending flashes of light across my closed eyes.

      Easy, buddy.

      I must have groaned.

      You’ve got quite the knot. The voice, female with a Canadian accent, comes from above and behind. What can you tell me about her? The weight on my back shifts again.

      The world moves more than it should, but less than before. Please run me. I spit grass, and a bit of dirt on my lip falls between my cheek and gum. I sputter to get it, and a reluctant blade, out of my mouth.

      I would, but you don’t have a wallet.

      Equilibrium returning, I open my eyes, and pain from my temple makes the right clamp shut. Half of my vision through the left is a horizon of grass. With only one eye, I don’t have depth perception, but I see a woman in a yellow sundress laid out like I am. The neckline is bright red with fresh blood. How about my name and social?

      Sure. Hold on. The knob of her knee rolls away from my spine, giving some relief but making it a bit harder to breathe. What’s your info?

      Name’s Kurt: Kilo, Uniform, Romeo, Tango. Ramsey: Romeo, Alpha, Mike, Sierra, Echo, Yankee. I try my right eye again, and it protests.

      A military man, huh?

      She’s quite chatty. Part of me hates when cops are talkative. It means they know how to casually pry information from the unsuspecting – which I’m not. Overall, it’s good. The grind hasn’t gotten to her yet or she is still in love with her job and tries, daily, to make a difference. Give me a burnout any day. Former.

      A Marine, huh?

      She’s sharp. I’m concussed; at least that’s what I’m going to blame the slip on. Should have said yup or uh–huh. Good catch.

      Thanks, and thanks for serving. She shifts her weight again. It’s her right knee. She adjusts behind me to keep the advantage but relieve all pressure. I’m ready for your social.

      Making sure not to give her a reason to hop back on me, I scan for the

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