The Power of Five Oblivion

she had been visiting for as long as she could remember. It was here, in this empty landscape that she had first met Matt, Pedro, Scott and Jamie, although she hadn’t then known their names. The dreamworld seemed to have been constructed specially for them. It allowed them to communicate with each other. Although Pedro spoke only Spanish, he and Matt had been able to have conversations there, and when they woke up they remembered everything they’d said. If Matt was still alive, Scarlett was certain she would find him here. He was probably looking for her even now.
    Scarlett slept and went back into the dreamworld. As always, there was no colour. The land was grey, the sea black, the sky a mixture of the two. What had happened here? she wondered. Had it always been like this? Surely dreams should be able to offer something more. She put aside her disappointment and called out for the others, her voice sounding as empty and lifeless as everything else.
    And then, ahead of her, something moved. A man had appeared as if from nowhere, standing with his back to her. She saw that he was wearing a white shirt with a waistcoat but no jacket. Scarlett was completely shocked. She knew that the dreamworld could send strange messages. Jamie had met a cowboy figure who had seemed hostile but who had in fact warned him of an attempted assassination. Matt had been threatened by a giant swan.
    Was this man here for her?
    “Excuse me…” she said.
    Slowly the man turned. Scarlett blinked. She was looking at a perfectly round face with a small, neat moustache. The man was wearing very black glasses, shaped like coins, that completely hid his eyes. He smiled at her, revealing more gold teeth than real ones.
    “Five,” he said.
    The Five. She was one of them. He had recognized her.
    Scarlett woke up and knew at once that something had happened. Doctors often talk about a tunnel of pain and she realized that, at last, she had come out the other side. There was a rush of light and a sensation of leaving the worst behind her. She saw the ceiling then, moving her head, the wall opposite. There was a picture in a frame: a young, very confident-looking man in Arab dress. He was standing in the wind with his fist raised above him. Next to the picture was an open door, leading to a corridor. Early morning light was slanting down, hitting the corner of her bed. She was desperately thirsty. She could feel the bandage tightly woven around her head but that was good. Before, she hadn’t even been aware it was there.
    “Scarlett…?”
    Lohan was still with her. He was moving towards her bed, leaning over her. But as he came into focus, she saw that it wasn’t Lohan at all. Somehow they had all got switched in the escape from the temple. The man had a lean, intelligent face, a slightly crooked nose and dirty blond hair, cut short and tangled. Scarlett recognized the journalist, Richard Cole.
    “Can you hear me?” he asked.
    She nodded.
    “I’ll get the doctor. Is there anything you want?”
    “A drink.”
    “Here…” He picked up a glass, held it to her lips.
    Scarlett swallowed. She felt the water go down.
    “I was so worried about you,” Richard said. “But you’re looking much better now. You’re going to be fine.”
    There were so many questions. The first one was the most obvious. “Where am I?”
    Richard gritted his teeth. He sighed. “You’re going to wish you hadn’t asked.”

TWELVE
    The last minutes in the Tai Shan Temple would stay with Richard for the rest of his life.
    Everything had happened so quickly. The race across the city with Matt and Scarlett as the typhoon relentlessly destroyed everything around them. The temple itself, with dead bodies littering the ground, killed by the Triad soldiers who had been sent ahead to prepare the way for them. The sudden appearance of Scott and Pedro, carried thousands of miles from Peru in the blink of an eye. Then the gunshot. For a dreadful moment, Richard thought that Matt had been hit, but then he had seen Scarlett fall right in front of him and he had scooped her into his arms, knowing that the wound was bad, seeing the blood spread across his shirt.
    And with Scarlett unconscious, the entire temple had given itself to the storm. The walls had been ripped apart like damp paper and he knew that if they waited more than a few seconds, the magical door that was their only way out would disappear. Matt had given the order and of course they had all obeyed. Richard