Pyros: DarkWorld: Skinwalker 0.5 (Novella) (DarkWorld: Origins Book 1) Read Free Page B

to his fellow agents. What better way to eliminate potential disaster than by eliminating the source of the trauma?
    Memories of the family were to remain, just everything to do with the girl must go. Gunther's words, not hers.
    Easier said than done.
     
    ***
     

Chapter 5
    Jess sat watching the sleeping boy through the window as she rubbed her forehead, tired and drained. Even Titans eventually tire after a day like hers.
    Graham had taken almost twenty hours to complete her wipe. Twenty hours during which neither had left the room, or ate or even taken a bathroom break. During which two smartly attired women went from immaculate suits and hair to untucked shirts, overly creased pants and hair that looked like a brush hadn't touched it in weeks.
    The Eraser had left looking as if she had been run over by a semi. A part of Jess felt sorry for the girl. She had probed Graham's emotions and seen the doubt she had about the job. Seen her take extra care with the boy. Seen her stop so many times, ready to put an end to the wipe. But Gunther had told her the public version of the truth so neither Graham nor Logan had ever had a chance.
    Graham was young, only sixteen. Brilliant, but still just a kid herself. She will learn eventually. Someday she will become hard and jaded and angry, someday she will cease trusting everyone around her.
    Jess stopped herself from gritting her teeth just as Gunther entered the viewing room.
    "Looked like it went well." He stopped beside her, two feet from the two-way mirror. His spine was stiff as he stared at the boy.
    "Looks that way." Jess remained non-committal. She wasn't yet sure what information Gunther was after.
    "Any problems with Graham."
    "No. She was efficient and thorough."
    "Any doubts?" Gunther turned his head, spearing her with his cool gaze.
    Jess met his eyes without flinching. "Not that I could see."
    "Good. Get him to Colman as soon as he's awake and ready." He turned on his heel and left without another word.
    Jess stifled a huff and returned her gaze to the sheet in front of her. More unnecessary forms to fill. More bureaucratic red-tape to wade through.
    She bent to her task
    ***
     

Chapter 6
    One Week Later
    Dr. Colman's Office
     
    Logan wriggled in the cushioned seat as the man in the glasses wrote something in his little book. Colman was his name. Dr. Colman. Here to help him get through the dreams that plagued him. But what good will a doctor do for Logan when his nights are filled with visions that repeat over and over again. Dreams that raise an accusing finger at him and say, "Look what you did."
    Dreams of his father were the worst.
    The blackened, shriveled corpse of his father. Horrible hands wrapped around Logan's neck, squeezing and squeezing until he could no longer breathe. The rank smell of charred flesh from the fingers round his neck making him want to throw up. And even when he woke screaming and shaking with the threads of the dream slowly disappearing, they never truly left. Every time he closed his eyes he could see them.
    The family he killed.
    Dr. Colman cleared his throat and Logan looked up. He was bald with round wire glasses that sat at the tip of his nose. His eyes were small and round and he reminded Logan of Porky the Pig. But even that comparison didn't tease a smile from Logan's lips. What was there to smile about?
    Killers don't deserve to smile.
    The doctor smiled. "Now, Logan. May I call you Logan?" The question stumped Logan. What else was the doctor going to call him? Mr. Westin? You don't call kids Mister. The request made Logan suspicious but he just nodded and kept his thoughts from him face the way he'd learned to do with Father. Father hated when their faces made him think they were angry or upset. Logan had mastered the art of a neutral expression when he was eight. Colman's voice pulled him from his memories. "Okay, Logan. I understand you've been through a rather traumatic ordeal. Would you like to talk about it?"
    "No," said