Graham blinks a few times, like his eyes are adjusting to a change in light. He peers around the empty space, openly curious, and only glancing back to Diana when she speaks.
He takes a breath, and then turns slightly, just enough to look over his shoulder. Wisps of light and color appear in the dark space, gathering and coalescing into the form of Alana Bloom, white flowers patterned over her blue blouse, her dark hair down over her shoulders, the glazing bars of a window splitting her image. She closes a folder, sets papers down, her actions flickering and jittering, like she's moving backwards.
He moves his head the other way, and sees Abel Gideon standing in the dark space, eyes forward as though he were looking past Graham to watch Alana. His figure slips and flitters, and shifts in to Garrett Jacob Hobbs, blood splattered across his shirt, bullet holes in his chest, eyes glazed over – and then back again.
The light scatters, and reasserts itself briefly into the form of Dr. Lecter, removing his coat. Then Jack Crawford's voice sounds around them: "You've got to let go of as much of it as you can. You've just got to let go."
"It's hard to shake off something that's already under your skin," Graham answers.
And abruptly, they're standing in snow, about three inches deep. On a small hill, not too far off, there's a round white building, with a blue door and domed top. At first, only moonlight touches it and the dark trees beyond it, but then flashes of red and blue crawl up along the bright walls – a police car and two black SUVs are behind them, and figures in black uniforms and helmets are quietly climbing the steps toward the building. Mostly – one has a long brown coat, and is holding a shotgun.
And Graham has lingered behind the rest. This version is wearing jeans and a dark green jacket; his steps are slow, and even in the dim light it's apparent he's drenched in sweat. He comes to a stop at the base of the stairs, looking up at the building, and then off toward the woods.
"The observatory," answers the one who's holding the rope with Diana.
no subject
He takes a breath, and then turns slightly, just enough to look over his shoulder. Wisps of light and color appear in the dark space, gathering and coalescing into the form of Alana Bloom, white flowers patterned over her blue blouse, her dark hair down over her shoulders, the glazing bars of a window splitting her image. She closes a folder, sets papers down, her actions flickering and jittering, like she's moving backwards.
He moves his head the other way, and sees Abel Gideon standing in the dark space, eyes forward as though he were looking past Graham to watch Alana. His figure slips and flitters, and shifts in to Garrett Jacob Hobbs, blood splattered across his shirt, bullet holes in his chest, eyes glazed over – and then back again.
The light scatters, and reasserts itself briefly into the form of Dr. Lecter, removing his coat. Then Jack Crawford's voice sounds around them: "You've got to let go of as much of it as you can. You've just got to let go."
"It's hard to shake off something that's already under your skin," Graham answers.
And abruptly, they're standing in snow, about three inches deep. On a small hill, not too far off, there's a round white building, with a blue door and domed top. At first, only moonlight touches it and the dark trees beyond it, but then flashes of red and blue crawl up along the bright walls – a police car and two black SUVs are behind them, and figures in black uniforms and helmets are quietly climbing the steps toward the building. Mostly – one has a long brown coat, and is holding a shotgun.
And Graham has lingered behind the rest. This version is wearing jeans and a dark green jacket; his steps are slow, and even in the dim light it's apparent he's drenched in sweat. He comes to a stop at the base of the stairs, looking up at the building, and then off toward the woods.
"The observatory," answers the one who's holding the rope with Diana.