The Hidden

The dreams that filled Scarlet’s unconscious mind came with morning’s light rather than the deepest darkness of the night.

It seemed to Scarlet that she was waking up, roused by the glow of dawn slipping into the room. The sun. But then the sun was suddenly surrounded by a haze, as if a mist had come from nowhere to dull its brilliance. And that notion was ridiculous, she knew, because mist didn’t come in bright sunlight, it came on days when storms were darkening the skies. But logic didn’t matter, because the mist was there, diffusing the glow of the sun. And then...

Someone was walking toward her through the mist.

No, there were two of them...

Two men walking toward her. One moved stiffly, like the living robots she’d seen entertaining tourists in Times Square. The other moved naturally, shaking his head as if in amusement at his companion’s awkwardness.

They both looked to be in their thirties, wearing jeans, Western-style shirts and cowboy hats.

At first she wasn’t afraid.

“We’re just trying to help,” the awkward one assured her, reaching the foot of the bed. It was the statue of Nathan Kendall, she realized.

“You’re one of us,” the other said. She wasn’t sure who he was; she couldn’t see him past Nathan.

“We’re coming back,” Nathan said.

“We’re trying to help,” the other said.

“Trying to save you,” said Nathan...

That was when she awoke, bolting upright from the dream. She stared at the foot of her bed, terrified that the statue would be standing there again.

It wasn’t, and she breathed deeply in relief.

Diego. Diego was here.

She stretched a hand out across the sheets. Diego wasn’t here.

He’d always been an early riser, even when he’d stayed up late. He was probably just in the bathroom or in the kitchen making coffee. And Brett was there somewhere, too. She was safe.

She inhaled deeply and told herself that she’d simply had a weird dream.

All she had to do was let the dream drift away and she would be fine. She reminded herself that she’d had a pretty spectacular night. But now she needed to shower and face the day. At least now she wasn’t alone.

She showered quickly, and realized from the wet towels and familiar razor by the sink that Diego had showered and shaved earlier. There was something comforting about seeing the evidence of his presence there.

She dressed quickly and headed to the kitchen.

There was an unfamiliar older man sitting at the table. His hair was snow white, neatly cut, and he was studying one of Nathan Kendall’s journals.

For a moment, she froze, wondering about her sanity, her dreams and mannequins that moved.

She stood there gaping, wondering if the man was real or not.

He was.

And he proved it by standing up as soon as he noticed her and smiling.

“Scarlet, hello, I’m so sorry to have startled you. Brett let me in a little while ago. I’m Adam Harrison.” He offered her his hand.

Relieved and feeling more than a little silly, she smiled and quickly walked forward to offer him her hand in return.

“It’s very nice to meet you. I’ve heard all about you, of course. You were so kind to send everyone out here so quickly to help me.”

“I was happy to do it. Come, why don’t sit down and join me?”

“Just let me get some coffee,” she said. She poured herself a cup and sat down beside him.

“Phantom photos—now that’s something new,” Adam said.

“I wasn’t the only one who saw them,” she said, and realized that she sounded defensive. “Ben—Ben Kendall, my boss—saw the pictures, too. They were there—and then they weren’t.”

“I don’t doubt you for a minute. The camera will be on its way to our own people back East very soon. We’ll find out what’s going on.”

“That’s great, thank you,” Scarlet said. Then she asked, “Do you know where Diego is?”