Fic: Primatech 815 - Ch. 2
Title: Primatech 815
Author: starrdust411
Fandom: Heroes (Crossover with Lost)
Characters: Ando, Bennet, Claire, Claude, Hiro, Isaac, Peter, Matt, Micah, Mohinder, Niki, Simone, Sylar (more to come)
Rating: R
Summary: A plane crash unites a group of strangers.
Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or Lost.
Warnings: AU, Violence, Action/Adventure, Drug use, Het, Slash, Crossover/Fusion
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Mohinder had overheard the nurse's plan to go into the jungle last night and knew that he had to act quickly. As soon as dawn had peaked onto the horizon he had snuck into the medical tent to check on Audrey. She was still unconscious and weak, but Mohinder knew that he could count on Peter to look after her, for now at least. Carefully, he dug through the small pile that Peter had placed her belongings in and searched for her gun. He knew that Audrey had brought five in a case, but she had also had one on her. At the moment, she wasn't going to be able to use it, but he could try to put it to some use.
It didn't take long before Mohinder's fingers touched the cold metal object. Once he had it safely secured on his body he crept away from his fellow survivors and into the jungle.
He was out there. Mohinder knew it. The man was like a cockroach; impossible to be rid of. He doubted that even a plane crash could kill him. Yet the jungle was dense, and there was barely enough sunlight for him to make out anything. He wandered aimlessly for what seemed like hours before his eyes caught sight of something shiny. He crouched down to inspect the object, brushing away a few stray twigs.
Mohinder felt his heart stop dead in his chest when he lifted the object and found that it was a pair of handcuffs. There was only one passenger that had been wearing these. He was about to get up, knowing that he was on the right track, but something stopped him. Before he could even figure out what it was, something slammed into the back of his head, causing the world to fade to black.
-+-+-+-
Peter sighed as he checked his watch. From what he could tell, it was still working, but was it accurate? He was still running on Australia time and the plane... They must have been well out of that time zone when they crashed here. He tapped the faceplate absentmindedly. According to the wrist watch, it was now eleven in the morning, but it felt much earlier than that.
Audrey's condition hadn't changed since yesterday. The head wound she'd sustained during the crash would have normally gotten his full attention, if it weren't for the large piece of metal sticking out of her stomach. If his quest into the jungle didn't go well, he'd probably have to remove it and hope for the best. He could only pray that they'd be able to find enough alcohol in the plane to help clean her injuries before he could attempt to preform "surgery" on her.
"Hey. Hey! Has anybody seen the doctor?"
Peter felt his head snap up at the sound of a man's frantic voice. He turned to see a tall man with pale skin and short black hair emerge from the jungle. The young man felt his eyes widen and his throat go dry when he noticed that the man had an unconscious Mohinder slung over his shoulders.
"Nurse," Claire corrected as she led the man in his direction. "He's a nurse... and what happened to Mr. Suresh?"
The man grunted as he staggered over towards Peter's tent. The young nurse rushed over to his side, helping him to slide Mohinder's still body gently to the ground. "We were in the woods... jungle," he began, huffing wearily as he adjusted the Indian man's body onto the sand. "He... he said he was looking for something... didn't say what. Then... then he fell. He fell and banged his head."
Peter sucked his teeth as he gently turned Mohinder's head. A small amount of blood was seeping from the back of his skull, but it didn't look too serious. "Claire, go grab me some alcohol," he instructed as he picked up a clean rag beside him. "He'll be alright. Just need to put pressure on his wound."
"Good," the other man breathed, worry etched all over his face. "That's good."
The young man shifted uncomfortably as he studied the stranger's intense gaze. "Do you know him?" he asked. He hadn't seen him yesterday. In fact, yesterday, the only person Mohinder had been concerned with was the woman lying unconscious just a few inches away from them.
The pale man looked at him then, his dark eyes strangely unsettling. "Yeah," he nodded. "It's... it's complicated. Sorry 'bout the whole... 'doctor' thing."
"It's alright," Peter shrugged as his eyes suddenly caught sight of the other man's wrists. They were red and the skin was torn and bruised. "It happens all the time. What's your name?"
"Gabriel. Gabriel Gray."
-+-+-+-
"So how much money do you think we're all going to get after we sue Primatech Airlines?"
Simone laughed softly at Isaac's joke. The last thing she needed was money. Her father had more than enough of that. What she did need was a nice hot shower. And some sun screen. "I doubt we'll even have to sue," she pointed out, adjusting herself so that her skin was out of the intense light. "Their plane crashed. They'd have to give us something."
"Anybody have any sunblock?" Niki asked, checking her fair skin for sun burns.
"I probably have some in my bag," Matt announced. "You know, we should probably start sorting through the luggage. Who knows how long we're going to be here, and the nurse could probably use some of the medicine people packed."
"Doesn't that seem kind of... wrong?" Simone asked timidly. Somehow, even in their situation, it just felt strange to go through other people's belongings.
"Well, yeah," Matt shrugged. "But it's not like we won't be letting people claim their own stuff. We'll just take what we need from the..." The man's words trailed off as all eyes slowly drifted to Micah. The poor kid couldn't have been more than ten years old, and yet he was already surround by so much death. "From the ones who won't be needing it."
"But what about the bodies?" Micah pipped up. "Are we going to bury them?"
"Don't talk like that, baby," Niki chided, wrapping an awkward arm around her son's shoulders. "When the rescue boats come, they'll take care of them."
"But Mom, it's been a whole day," Micah reminded her. "If anyone was going to save us, they should have come by now."
The circle of strangers quickly fell silent at the child's words. They all knew he was right.
Simone looked up and felt a smile spread across her features when she saw Peter approaching the group. She had never really considered herself to be a very spiritual person, but she couldn't help but feel blessed to have someone like Peter here on the island with them.
"Claire and I are heading into the jungle to find the plane's transceiver," Peter announced as he crouched down between Matt and Niki.
"Do you think you'll be able to find it?" Matt asked, giving the younger man a quizzical look.
Peter nodded, adjusting his weight as he sunk into the sand. "The transceiver will most likely be in the cockpit. Claire saw some smoke coming from the center of the jungle, so we figured that's where the front of the plane landed." Peter paused, focusing his attention solely on Matt. "The woman in my tent is still sleeping. If she wakes up, just try to keep her calm until I come back and whatever you do, don't let her take out the shrapnel in her stomach."
Matt nodded thoughtfully as the young nurse started to stand up, but Isaac jumped up before he could fully straighten himself.
"Why don't I come with you guys?" Isaac quickly suggested, causing Simone to turn and give her boyfriend an incredulous look.
"You want to go?" she asked.
"Yeah," the painter shrugged, seeming far too peppy and eager for Simone's liking. Something was up. "Sitting around doing nothing is making me feel a bit jittery. Besides, I could use the exercise."
Peter shrugged indifferently, although Simone could see from his tense posture that something about Isaac was making the other man feel uneasy. "Th-that's fine," Peter stuttered. "But if you want to go, then you'd better get ready now. We're leaving soon."
Isaac nodded as he followed Peter towards the line of trees where Claire was waiting.
"Alright," Simone shrugged as she picked herself up off of the beach. "I guess I'll help you guys clear the beach."
"Good," Matt nodded. "I suppose I should be sure to stay near Peter's tent though."
The tanned woman smiled as she brushed a few grains of sand off of her legs. "So Matt, what was it you did back in the 'real world'?"
The man chuckled as he headed towards the fuselage. "I'm a cop."
-+-+-+-
Mohinder moaned as he slowly came back into the conscious world. His head ached and his vision was blurred. Looking over to his left, he could see that he was in the medical tent, lying less than a foot away from Audrey's still form. She was turning white and barely breathing, but the fact that she was still alive comforted him.
The Indian man groaned as he closed his eyes and cradled his head in his hands. The last thing that he could remember was wandering through the jungle looking for...
As soon as the thought entered his mind, a strong hand grasped his shoulder, pressing him deeper into the soft ground. His eyes flew open, and his brown skin drained of its color as he gazed into the intense brown orbs staring down at him.
"Enjoy your nap, Professor?"
The Indian man felt his whole body tighten as the figure looming above him slowly pulled out a piece of metal that he had sharpened into a knife. That's how he worked. That was how he always killed his victims: take a knife, and slit their throats. Quick and quiet.
"Sylar," he gasped as the man pressed his make shift weapon against his throat.
"Shh," he hushed. "We don't want to wake up Marshal Hanson."
"Where's Peter?"
"Nurse Handsome took his two friends, Blondie and Droopy, into the woods to look for the cockpit." Sylar flashed him a cold smile as he lightly slid the blade along Mohinder's neck. He hadn't broken any skin, Mohinder could tell as much, but that didn't stop the chill from running up and down his spine. "It's just you and me, Professor."
Mohinder swallowed, feeling the shard of metal dig into his skin as he did so. Sweat was pouring down his face and his throat felt bone dry. "Are you going to kill me?"
Sylar chuckled, a humorless sound that made his stomach tighten, as he leaned in closer. "Now why would I do a thing like that?"
He shuddered, feeling Sylar's hot breath on his face as the gravity of the situation finally sunk in. He never should have gone to Australia in the first place.
+-+-+-+
Mohinder shifted uncomfortably in his seat, trying his best to press himself against the window of the plane. He didn't care to take in the clear blue sky or bright white clouds passing by. He only wanted to pretend that he wasn't sitting next to a doped up serial killer on board a plane with far too many innocent passengers. Even pumped full of drugs, Sylar was a dangerous man and Mohinder couldn't imagine why they had allowed them on the plane with only one US Marshall and a handgun to protect everyone.
No. Not one gun. Six guns. Hanson had to check her other five. Although she had tried to convince the airline to allow Mohinder to carry a weapon as well, but they wouldn't allow it. A big part of him was relieved for that. God forbid he actually had to use it and ended up hitting a passenger instead of the serial killer.
"Take it easy, Mohinder," Hanson muttered as she took another sip of her orange juice. Placing the small plastic cup back down on her tray, she went back to flipping through her magazine absentmindedly. He wished she would take this more seriously. Just because Sylar had been drugged into unconsciousness and handcuffed to his seat, didn't mean he wasn't still dangerous. "The worst part is over."
Mohinder frowned as he adjusted himself so that he was able to see her over Sylar's lumbering form. "Ms. Hanson-"
"Audrey," she corrected.
"Audrey," he started again, "I don't see how you can be so relaxed. If Sylar wakes up-"
"He won't wake up," she snorted, flipping a page roughly. "And if he does, we'll just give him another shot and put him back out. You don't have to worry about anything Mohinder. This is the easy part. We caught Sylar. As soon as we land in LAX, we'll be heroes."
The Indian man stiffened as the plane suddenly jerked as it was hit by turbulence. Sylar groaned and slumped towards him, his head mere inches away from his shoulder. Mohinder felt his insides twist into knots as the pilot flicked on the "fasten seatbelt" sign and one of the flight attendances made an announcement over the intercom. His hands began to tremble as he buckled himself into his seat. The turbulence didn't bother him, but the idea of having to stand trial, of having to finger Sylar in court did.
"I wish-"
His words were quickly cut short when the plane suddenly hit an air pocket, causing many of the other passengers who hadn't fastened their seatbelt to crash into the ceiling and slam back to the floor. The doors of the overhead compartments suddenly flew open sending luggage flying around the cabin. A metal suitcase came crashing down and banging Audrey on the head.
Mohinder gasped as blood began to well on the side of the blond woman's head. Oxygen masks suddenly appeared before his eyes and Mohinder had to scramble as he reached across Sylar's sedated body to attach one of the masks onto the unconscious Marshall's face. Almost without thinking, Mohinder went ahead and did the same for Sylar before grabbing his own mask and taking deep breaths.
+-+-+-+
Mohinder felt his breath hitch as Sylar hovered over him, staring intensely at his exposed neck. "I... I'm the reason you're here," Mohinder gasped. "If it weren't for me, Hanson never would have caught you."
The Indian professor felt his muscles tighten as Sylar's dark eyes met his. He shifted uncomfortably underneath Sylar's bulk as the serial killer's dark grin disappeared from his face. "I know," the man whispered. "I always knew you'd be the one to catch me, but that doesn't matter now. We're stuck here. It's just you and me now."
"Audrey-"
"Marshal Hanson is going to die," Sylar told him bluntly. "That nurse won't be able to save her, and we're stuck on this island for God knows how long. This is my chance to get away. So I'll make you a deal; you keep quiet about me and I won't slit your throat from ear to ear. Do we have a deal?"
"How do I know you won't kill someone anyway?"
"Because these people mean nothing to me. I'm not some random slasher. I kill for a reason, and right now, there's no reason. That is, of course, unless you want to be a hero? Do you want to be a hero, Mohinder?"
He hissed as Sylar pressed his blade into Mohinder's neck, splitting his skin. "I don't trust you."
Sylar smiled down at him, tightening his grip on the other man's shoulder. "Well, then you can just be my shadow. Feel free to follow me around and make sure that I'm a good boy."
Mohinder felt his whole body relax as Sylar finally removed the piece of metal from his throat and slid it back into his pocket. "I won't let you out of my sight," he gasped.
"I'll be looking forward to it."
-+-+-+-
Isaac smiled as Claire looked over her shoulder at him. It must have been the third time she'd done it since they'd started this trek into the jungle and, God help him, he loved the attention.
"Do I know you from somewhere?" Claire asked him as she turned to look at him one more time.
"I look familiar, don't I?" Isaac practically beamed as he brushed his wavy brown hair out of his eyes.
"Yeah," she shrugged. "Kinda."
"Well, I'm impressed," he smirked. "Not many kids your age are into art."
Claire came to a complete stop as she turned her wide eyes to take a good look at his face. It didn't take long before realization dawned on her. "You're Isaac Mendez?" He nodded and the girl all but gushed. "The Isaac Mendez? Get out! My friend Zach was obsessed with you! He used to collect all of your paintings."
He flashed her his most bashful smile as he pretended to kick a rock out of his path. "Well that's great to hear. Hey, maybe when we get off the island I could send him an autographed picture."
"He'd love that!"
"Guys?" Peter cut in suddenly, finally noticing that the two people he had taken on the quest with him had fallen several paces behind. "Do you mind picking up the pace?"
"Hey, Peter, are you an art lover?" Claire asked innocently as she quickened her steps to fall in back with the male nurse.
He shrugged sheepishly as he sent Isaac an apologetic look. "Not really," he mumbled. "But I'm sure your work is great."
-+-+-+-
It wasn't natural. The sun had been shining less than a second ago, and now all of a sudden the sky was as black as night. Thick storm clouds had gathered above them and began dumping rain down onto the island. It wasn't long before Claire found that her cloths were practically stuck to her body, and from the looks of things, Peter and Isaac weren't doing much better when it came to staying dry in the dense forest. She was thankful when the trio finally came across what had once been the front of the plane.
The cockpit had been flung deep into the jungle, tangle up in a mess of trees, and was currently resting in an awkward angle towards the sky. Climbing into that thing was going to be interesting to say the least.
They came in from the back of the plane, the easiest access point seeing how it was ripped wide open, and once they crawled inside the group was instantly greeted by several dead bodies still strapped into their seats. Claire felt her stomach lurch at the sight and quickly turned her head away.
If Peter felt something, he didn't show it. Instead, he just began to crawl towards the cockpit doors, using the chairs to support his weight. Claire followed his lead and from the sound of groans coming from behind her, Isaac was bringing up the rear. She felt herself slip several times and had to struggle to maintain balance. Her hands connected with the bare leg of one of the dead passengers, and Claire had to fight back against the strong urge to vomit.
It seemed like a blessing when the three of them finally made it to the cockpit door, each of them turning red from effort and taking greedy gulps of breath.
"You don't have to come in if you don't want to," Peter announced as he readied himself to open the door.
"You go, I go," Claire breathed.
"I'll... I'll stay back here," Isaac called, clinging to one of the seats for support. Claire couldn't really begrudge the man's reluctance. If things were grim out here, they wouldn't be much better in the cockpit.
Peter nodded before jerking the handle on the door several times. It was stuck. Claire reached to her side and handed the nurse a fire extinguisher to help pry it open. Peter took the extinguisher gratefully and began smashing it against the door. After smalling it against the handle several times, the door flew open and the dead body of the co-pilot came with it, flying past the three of them. The teenager felt her heart pounding like a drum inside of her, but when Peter reached down and offered her his hand, she took it anyway. She'd already promised to go in with him, she wasn't going to let herself look like a coward now. She wiggled and squirmed as Peter pulled her into the cockpit, a cramped space filled with broken glass, leaves, and a very dead pilot.
Claire cringed and turned her head away from the dead man still strapped into his seat. "W-what does the transceiver look like?" she gasp, trying her best to distract herself from her grim surroundings.
"Like a really complicated walkie-talkie," Peter explained as he carefully poked around the cockpit.
Claire nodded to herself, trying her best to get to her feet and stand in the slanted space. Unfortunately, for the teenager, she was knocked right back on her rear when the pilot suddenly jerked back to life.
Peter jumped, sliding across the wet surface in surprise as he scrambled to the injured man's side. He was a heavy set man with a balding head and wire thin glasses. His eye was swollen and most of his skin was starting to turn black and blue.
Once she had gotten back on her own two feet, Claire managed to climb over to rest on the arm of the co-pilot's chair. Leaning over towards the pilot, she was able to see that his name tag read "A. Malsky."
Malsky's whole body shook as he took in several deep breaths, cough and sputtering as he did so. "W-whuh...? Where?"
"Here, drink this," Peter instructed as he pulled out a bottle of water he had been carrying in his backpack. He poured the water slowly down the man's throat, making sure that he did not choke on the fluids. "We crashed on a tropical island."
"H-how... how many survived?"
"There are forty-eight of us," Peter told him. "Does anything feel broken?"
"No... but my head feels a little woozy."
"You probably have a concussion," Peter noted, studying the man's swollen face with a critical eye.
"How... how long as it been?"
"About sixteen hours."
"Six... sixteen?" Malsky stammered in surprise. "Has anybody come?"
Peter frowned, biting his lip in regret. "No."
Malsky sighed, processing the information slowly. "Six hours in... our radio went out. No-one could see us. We turned back to land in Fiji. By the time we hit turbulence, we … we were a thousand miles off course. They're looking for us in the wrong place."
Peter and Claire fell silent as they began to take in the new information. The words "turned back" and "off course" kept swimming around in her head. How would anyone find them?
"Th-there's a transceiver," Malsky started, twisting around in his seat in an attempt to reach behind him. Placing a gentle hand on the wounded man's arm, Peter stopped his struggles and went ahead and dug around for the transceiver himself. Once he had found the device, Peter froze as if a thought suddenly popped into his head.
"Where's Isaac?"
Claire felt her eyes widen at the mention of the artist's name. Isaac had announced he wouldn't be joining them in the cabin, yet he hadn't made a sound the entire time they had been in there. Worry suddenly started to build up inside of the girl as images of the poor man losing his balance and falling to his death suddenly flashed through her mind. Without bothering to say a word, Claire scrambled out of the cockpit and back towards the door. Easing herself through the door frame, she peaked around the corner and was unable to find any trace of Isaac Mendez.
"Isaac?" she called out hesitantly. "Mr. Mendez?"
As soon as the man's surname escaped her lips, he suddenly re-emerged from the bathroom, flinging the door open with near violent force. Claire felt her heart jump into her throat at the man's sudden appearance. His eyes were wide and unfocused and for some reason Claire couldn't help, but think that he looked far too relaxed given their current situation.
"What were you doing in there?" she asked, gripping the walls for balance.
Isaac flashed her a lopsided smile as he eased himself out of the bathroom stall. "When ya gotta go..."
Claire frowned, deciding it was best not to think too hard about the situation as she climbed back into the cockpit, only to find that Peter and Malsky were having trouble getting the transceiver to work. Peter sighed, switching the device off. The teenager was about to ask what was wrong when suddenly, the strange noise that they had heard last night in the jungle filled the air. The four people all froze in fear as thunderous booms circled their location, rocking the already unsteady cabin.
"What was-" Malsky began, but Peter signaled him to keep quiet.
The noise soon disappeared and they were left in an uncomfortable silence. Malsky frowned, as he lifted himself out of his seat, peaking out the plane's broken windshield. Claire held her breath as the silence spread between them. The girl relaxed once Malsky backed away from the window, apparently having become satisfied that nothing was out there. Unfortunately, that's when the monster had decided to reach inside the cabin and drag the poor man through the windshield.
Claire screamed, screwing her eyes shut as the man was repeatedly slammed against the plane. She was barely able to process Peter's words as the man quickly grabbed her arms and began pushing her towards the door. They didn't make it, however, as the nose of the plane began to shake before crashing into the jungle. The three survivors fell face first to the floor, but wasted no time in scrambling back to their feet and running towards the door.
Once outside, Claire watched as Isaac shot like a dart into the woods zig-zagging wildly. She followed his lead, hoping that it could possibly help her escaped from the creature, but soon, she found herself running alone. Isaac and Peter had all but disappeared. With the combination of the heavy rain and the fear coursing through her body, Claire was practically blind in the now unfamiliar area. Before long, the girl found herself trapped in a field of bamboo shoots. Her whole body was trembling with fear as her wide eyes scanned the area.
"P-P-Peter!" she screeched. She repeated the name, over and over, until her voice felt sore from the effort. Tears began to well in her eyes. Peter... What if that thing had caught him? No. Peter couldn't be dead. He was too strong of a person to die like this.
Gathering up whatever courage was left inside of her being, Claire sprang forward in hopes of finding Peter, only to slam face first into another warm body. The two collided with an "oof," tumbling towards the soggy ground below. Claire grunted as she pulled herself back up and saw that she had run into Isaac.
"Isaac?" she gasped, noticing that the rain was finally starting to ease up. "Where's Peter?"
"I don't know," he admitted. "I just remember falling... Then he picked me up... Then he was just... gone."
The blond girl let out a long huff as she pushed her wet hair out of her face. "We have to find him," she stated, rolling off of Isaac and trying her best to stand on the slippery earth. Once she was back on her own two feet, she began wandering through the jungle, not bothering to check whether or not Isaac was behind her.
"You didn't call my name," Isaac said from behind her. "In the woods? When we were running from that... Monster. You said 'Peter.'" He paused briefly, most likely waiting for some sort of apology from Claire, but the girl didn't feel like she needed to give him one. She had been frightened and Peter had been the one taking care of her since the crash, not Isaac. It was only natural that her mind went to the male nurse first. "I'm Isaac."
Claire sighed, shaking her head and ignoring the older man as she continued to wander through the jungle, calling out Peter's name. There was no response. Nothing except the soft dripping of water on leaves and the eerie bird songs. It didn't take long before the two of them reached a small clearing. Water had pooled beneath the trees, and Claire felt her breath catch in her throat when she noticed the odd reflection in the water. It looked like... No. It couldn't be.
Craning her neck skyward, Claire was horrified to see that there was a man's body, bloody and nearly ripped to shreds, tangled lifelessly between the tree branches.
"W-what is that?" Isaac gapped.
"That's the pilot."
Claire spun around and was relieved to see Peter, dripping wet and nearly out of breath, walking towards them. In spite of the bloody mess hanging over head, Claire felt a wave a relief wash over her. "You're alive," she breathed gratefully.
"Yeah," Peter smiled, as he pulled the transceiver out of his pocket. "I'm alive."
"And that's great," Isaac said slowly, his eyes never leaving the dead body hanging above them, "but does anybody know, what kind of creature does something like that?"
Next Chapter
Author: starrdust411
Fandom: Heroes (Crossover with Lost)
Characters: Ando, Bennet, Claire, Claude, Hiro, Isaac, Peter, Matt, Micah, Mohinder, Niki, Simone, Sylar (more to come)
Rating: R
Summary: A plane crash unites a group of strangers.
Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or Lost.
Warnings: AU, Violence, Action/Adventure, Drug use, Het, Slash, Crossover/Fusion
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Mohinder had overheard the nurse's plan to go into the jungle last night and knew that he had to act quickly. As soon as dawn had peaked onto the horizon he had snuck into the medical tent to check on Audrey. She was still unconscious and weak, but Mohinder knew that he could count on Peter to look after her, for now at least. Carefully, he dug through the small pile that Peter had placed her belongings in and searched for her gun. He knew that Audrey had brought five in a case, but she had also had one on her. At the moment, she wasn't going to be able to use it, but he could try to put it to some use.
It didn't take long before Mohinder's fingers touched the cold metal object. Once he had it safely secured on his body he crept away from his fellow survivors and into the jungle.
He was out there. Mohinder knew it. The man was like a cockroach; impossible to be rid of. He doubted that even a plane crash could kill him. Yet the jungle was dense, and there was barely enough sunlight for him to make out anything. He wandered aimlessly for what seemed like hours before his eyes caught sight of something shiny. He crouched down to inspect the object, brushing away a few stray twigs.
Mohinder felt his heart stop dead in his chest when he lifted the object and found that it was a pair of handcuffs. There was only one passenger that had been wearing these. He was about to get up, knowing that he was on the right track, but something stopped him. Before he could even figure out what it was, something slammed into the back of his head, causing the world to fade to black.
-+-+-+-
Peter sighed as he checked his watch. From what he could tell, it was still working, but was it accurate? He was still running on Australia time and the plane... They must have been well out of that time zone when they crashed here. He tapped the faceplate absentmindedly. According to the wrist watch, it was now eleven in the morning, but it felt much earlier than that.
Audrey's condition hadn't changed since yesterday. The head wound she'd sustained during the crash would have normally gotten his full attention, if it weren't for the large piece of metal sticking out of her stomach. If his quest into the jungle didn't go well, he'd probably have to remove it and hope for the best. He could only pray that they'd be able to find enough alcohol in the plane to help clean her injuries before he could attempt to preform "surgery" on her.
"Hey. Hey! Has anybody seen the doctor?"
Peter felt his head snap up at the sound of a man's frantic voice. He turned to see a tall man with pale skin and short black hair emerge from the jungle. The young man felt his eyes widen and his throat go dry when he noticed that the man had an unconscious Mohinder slung over his shoulders.
"Nurse," Claire corrected as she led the man in his direction. "He's a nurse... and what happened to Mr. Suresh?"
The man grunted as he staggered over towards Peter's tent. The young nurse rushed over to his side, helping him to slide Mohinder's still body gently to the ground. "We were in the woods... jungle," he began, huffing wearily as he adjusted the Indian man's body onto the sand. "He... he said he was looking for something... didn't say what. Then... then he fell. He fell and banged his head."
Peter sucked his teeth as he gently turned Mohinder's head. A small amount of blood was seeping from the back of his skull, but it didn't look too serious. "Claire, go grab me some alcohol," he instructed as he picked up a clean rag beside him. "He'll be alright. Just need to put pressure on his wound."
"Good," the other man breathed, worry etched all over his face. "That's good."
The young man shifted uncomfortably as he studied the stranger's intense gaze. "Do you know him?" he asked. He hadn't seen him yesterday. In fact, yesterday, the only person Mohinder had been concerned with was the woman lying unconscious just a few inches away from them.
The pale man looked at him then, his dark eyes strangely unsettling. "Yeah," he nodded. "It's... it's complicated. Sorry 'bout the whole... 'doctor' thing."
"It's alright," Peter shrugged as his eyes suddenly caught sight of the other man's wrists. They were red and the skin was torn and bruised. "It happens all the time. What's your name?"
"Gabriel. Gabriel Gray."
-+-+-+-
"So how much money do you think we're all going to get after we sue Primatech Airlines?"
Simone laughed softly at Isaac's joke. The last thing she needed was money. Her father had more than enough of that. What she did need was a nice hot shower. And some sun screen. "I doubt we'll even have to sue," she pointed out, adjusting herself so that her skin was out of the intense light. "Their plane crashed. They'd have to give us something."
"Anybody have any sunblock?" Niki asked, checking her fair skin for sun burns.
"I probably have some in my bag," Matt announced. "You know, we should probably start sorting through the luggage. Who knows how long we're going to be here, and the nurse could probably use some of the medicine people packed."
"Doesn't that seem kind of... wrong?" Simone asked timidly. Somehow, even in their situation, it just felt strange to go through other people's belongings.
"Well, yeah," Matt shrugged. "But it's not like we won't be letting people claim their own stuff. We'll just take what we need from the..." The man's words trailed off as all eyes slowly drifted to Micah. The poor kid couldn't have been more than ten years old, and yet he was already surround by so much death. "From the ones who won't be needing it."
"But what about the bodies?" Micah pipped up. "Are we going to bury them?"
"Don't talk like that, baby," Niki chided, wrapping an awkward arm around her son's shoulders. "When the rescue boats come, they'll take care of them."
"But Mom, it's been a whole day," Micah reminded her. "If anyone was going to save us, they should have come by now."
The circle of strangers quickly fell silent at the child's words. They all knew he was right.
Simone looked up and felt a smile spread across her features when she saw Peter approaching the group. She had never really considered herself to be a very spiritual person, but she couldn't help but feel blessed to have someone like Peter here on the island with them.
"Claire and I are heading into the jungle to find the plane's transceiver," Peter announced as he crouched down between Matt and Niki.
"Do you think you'll be able to find it?" Matt asked, giving the younger man a quizzical look.
Peter nodded, adjusting his weight as he sunk into the sand. "The transceiver will most likely be in the cockpit. Claire saw some smoke coming from the center of the jungle, so we figured that's where the front of the plane landed." Peter paused, focusing his attention solely on Matt. "The woman in my tent is still sleeping. If she wakes up, just try to keep her calm until I come back and whatever you do, don't let her take out the shrapnel in her stomach."
Matt nodded thoughtfully as the young nurse started to stand up, but Isaac jumped up before he could fully straighten himself.
"Why don't I come with you guys?" Isaac quickly suggested, causing Simone to turn and give her boyfriend an incredulous look.
"You want to go?" she asked.
"Yeah," the painter shrugged, seeming far too peppy and eager for Simone's liking. Something was up. "Sitting around doing nothing is making me feel a bit jittery. Besides, I could use the exercise."
Peter shrugged indifferently, although Simone could see from his tense posture that something about Isaac was making the other man feel uneasy. "Th-that's fine," Peter stuttered. "But if you want to go, then you'd better get ready now. We're leaving soon."
Isaac nodded as he followed Peter towards the line of trees where Claire was waiting.
"Alright," Simone shrugged as she picked herself up off of the beach. "I guess I'll help you guys clear the beach."
"Good," Matt nodded. "I suppose I should be sure to stay near Peter's tent though."
The tanned woman smiled as she brushed a few grains of sand off of her legs. "So Matt, what was it you did back in the 'real world'?"
The man chuckled as he headed towards the fuselage. "I'm a cop."
-+-+-+-
Mohinder moaned as he slowly came back into the conscious world. His head ached and his vision was blurred. Looking over to his left, he could see that he was in the medical tent, lying less than a foot away from Audrey's still form. She was turning white and barely breathing, but the fact that she was still alive comforted him.
The Indian man groaned as he closed his eyes and cradled his head in his hands. The last thing that he could remember was wandering through the jungle looking for...
As soon as the thought entered his mind, a strong hand grasped his shoulder, pressing him deeper into the soft ground. His eyes flew open, and his brown skin drained of its color as he gazed into the intense brown orbs staring down at him.
"Enjoy your nap, Professor?"
The Indian man felt his whole body tighten as the figure looming above him slowly pulled out a piece of metal that he had sharpened into a knife. That's how he worked. That was how he always killed his victims: take a knife, and slit their throats. Quick and quiet.
"Sylar," he gasped as the man pressed his make shift weapon against his throat.
"Shh," he hushed. "We don't want to wake up Marshal Hanson."
"Where's Peter?"
"Nurse Handsome took his two friends, Blondie and Droopy, into the woods to look for the cockpit." Sylar flashed him a cold smile as he lightly slid the blade along Mohinder's neck. He hadn't broken any skin, Mohinder could tell as much, but that didn't stop the chill from running up and down his spine. "It's just you and me, Professor."
Mohinder swallowed, feeling the shard of metal dig into his skin as he did so. Sweat was pouring down his face and his throat felt bone dry. "Are you going to kill me?"
Sylar chuckled, a humorless sound that made his stomach tighten, as he leaned in closer. "Now why would I do a thing like that?"
He shuddered, feeling Sylar's hot breath on his face as the gravity of the situation finally sunk in. He never should have gone to Australia in the first place.
+-+-+-+
Mohinder shifted uncomfortably in his seat, trying his best to press himself against the window of the plane. He didn't care to take in the clear blue sky or bright white clouds passing by. He only wanted to pretend that he wasn't sitting next to a doped up serial killer on board a plane with far too many innocent passengers. Even pumped full of drugs, Sylar was a dangerous man and Mohinder couldn't imagine why they had allowed them on the plane with only one US Marshall and a handgun to protect everyone.
No. Not one gun. Six guns. Hanson had to check her other five. Although she had tried to convince the airline to allow Mohinder to carry a weapon as well, but they wouldn't allow it. A big part of him was relieved for that. God forbid he actually had to use it and ended up hitting a passenger instead of the serial killer.
"Take it easy, Mohinder," Hanson muttered as she took another sip of her orange juice. Placing the small plastic cup back down on her tray, she went back to flipping through her magazine absentmindedly. He wished she would take this more seriously. Just because Sylar had been drugged into unconsciousness and handcuffed to his seat, didn't mean he wasn't still dangerous. "The worst part is over."
Mohinder frowned as he adjusted himself so that he was able to see her over Sylar's lumbering form. "Ms. Hanson-"
"Audrey," she corrected.
"Audrey," he started again, "I don't see how you can be so relaxed. If Sylar wakes up-"
"He won't wake up," she snorted, flipping a page roughly. "And if he does, we'll just give him another shot and put him back out. You don't have to worry about anything Mohinder. This is the easy part. We caught Sylar. As soon as we land in LAX, we'll be heroes."
The Indian man stiffened as the plane suddenly jerked as it was hit by turbulence. Sylar groaned and slumped towards him, his head mere inches away from his shoulder. Mohinder felt his insides twist into knots as the pilot flicked on the "fasten seatbelt" sign and one of the flight attendances made an announcement over the intercom. His hands began to tremble as he buckled himself into his seat. The turbulence didn't bother him, but the idea of having to stand trial, of having to finger Sylar in court did.
"I wish-"
His words were quickly cut short when the plane suddenly hit an air pocket, causing many of the other passengers who hadn't fastened their seatbelt to crash into the ceiling and slam back to the floor. The doors of the overhead compartments suddenly flew open sending luggage flying around the cabin. A metal suitcase came crashing down and banging Audrey on the head.
Mohinder gasped as blood began to well on the side of the blond woman's head. Oxygen masks suddenly appeared before his eyes and Mohinder had to scramble as he reached across Sylar's sedated body to attach one of the masks onto the unconscious Marshall's face. Almost without thinking, Mohinder went ahead and did the same for Sylar before grabbing his own mask and taking deep breaths.
+-+-+-+
Mohinder felt his breath hitch as Sylar hovered over him, staring intensely at his exposed neck. "I... I'm the reason you're here," Mohinder gasped. "If it weren't for me, Hanson never would have caught you."
The Indian professor felt his muscles tighten as Sylar's dark eyes met his. He shifted uncomfortably underneath Sylar's bulk as the serial killer's dark grin disappeared from his face. "I know," the man whispered. "I always knew you'd be the one to catch me, but that doesn't matter now. We're stuck here. It's just you and me now."
"Audrey-"
"Marshal Hanson is going to die," Sylar told him bluntly. "That nurse won't be able to save her, and we're stuck on this island for God knows how long. This is my chance to get away. So I'll make you a deal; you keep quiet about me and I won't slit your throat from ear to ear. Do we have a deal?"
"How do I know you won't kill someone anyway?"
"Because these people mean nothing to me. I'm not some random slasher. I kill for a reason, and right now, there's no reason. That is, of course, unless you want to be a hero? Do you want to be a hero, Mohinder?"
He hissed as Sylar pressed his blade into Mohinder's neck, splitting his skin. "I don't trust you."
Sylar smiled down at him, tightening his grip on the other man's shoulder. "Well, then you can just be my shadow. Feel free to follow me around and make sure that I'm a good boy."
Mohinder felt his whole body relax as Sylar finally removed the piece of metal from his throat and slid it back into his pocket. "I won't let you out of my sight," he gasped.
"I'll be looking forward to it."
-+-+-+-
Isaac smiled as Claire looked over her shoulder at him. It must have been the third time she'd done it since they'd started this trek into the jungle and, God help him, he loved the attention.
"Do I know you from somewhere?" Claire asked him as she turned to look at him one more time.
"I look familiar, don't I?" Isaac practically beamed as he brushed his wavy brown hair out of his eyes.
"Yeah," she shrugged. "Kinda."
"Well, I'm impressed," he smirked. "Not many kids your age are into art."
Claire came to a complete stop as she turned her wide eyes to take a good look at his face. It didn't take long before realization dawned on her. "You're Isaac Mendez?" He nodded and the girl all but gushed. "The Isaac Mendez? Get out! My friend Zach was obsessed with you! He used to collect all of your paintings."
He flashed her his most bashful smile as he pretended to kick a rock out of his path. "Well that's great to hear. Hey, maybe when we get off the island I could send him an autographed picture."
"He'd love that!"
"Guys?" Peter cut in suddenly, finally noticing that the two people he had taken on the quest with him had fallen several paces behind. "Do you mind picking up the pace?"
"Hey, Peter, are you an art lover?" Claire asked innocently as she quickened her steps to fall in back with the male nurse.
He shrugged sheepishly as he sent Isaac an apologetic look. "Not really," he mumbled. "But I'm sure your work is great."
-+-+-+-
It wasn't natural. The sun had been shining less than a second ago, and now all of a sudden the sky was as black as night. Thick storm clouds had gathered above them and began dumping rain down onto the island. It wasn't long before Claire found that her cloths were practically stuck to her body, and from the looks of things, Peter and Isaac weren't doing much better when it came to staying dry in the dense forest. She was thankful when the trio finally came across what had once been the front of the plane.
The cockpit had been flung deep into the jungle, tangle up in a mess of trees, and was currently resting in an awkward angle towards the sky. Climbing into that thing was going to be interesting to say the least.
They came in from the back of the plane, the easiest access point seeing how it was ripped wide open, and once they crawled inside the group was instantly greeted by several dead bodies still strapped into their seats. Claire felt her stomach lurch at the sight and quickly turned her head away.
If Peter felt something, he didn't show it. Instead, he just began to crawl towards the cockpit doors, using the chairs to support his weight. Claire followed his lead and from the sound of groans coming from behind her, Isaac was bringing up the rear. She felt herself slip several times and had to struggle to maintain balance. Her hands connected with the bare leg of one of the dead passengers, and Claire had to fight back against the strong urge to vomit.
It seemed like a blessing when the three of them finally made it to the cockpit door, each of them turning red from effort and taking greedy gulps of breath.
"You don't have to come in if you don't want to," Peter announced as he readied himself to open the door.
"You go, I go," Claire breathed.
"I'll... I'll stay back here," Isaac called, clinging to one of the seats for support. Claire couldn't really begrudge the man's reluctance. If things were grim out here, they wouldn't be much better in the cockpit.
Peter nodded before jerking the handle on the door several times. It was stuck. Claire reached to her side and handed the nurse a fire extinguisher to help pry it open. Peter took the extinguisher gratefully and began smashing it against the door. After smalling it against the handle several times, the door flew open and the dead body of the co-pilot came with it, flying past the three of them. The teenager felt her heart pounding like a drum inside of her, but when Peter reached down and offered her his hand, she took it anyway. She'd already promised to go in with him, she wasn't going to let herself look like a coward now. She wiggled and squirmed as Peter pulled her into the cockpit, a cramped space filled with broken glass, leaves, and a very dead pilot.
Claire cringed and turned her head away from the dead man still strapped into his seat. "W-what does the transceiver look like?" she gasp, trying her best to distract herself from her grim surroundings.
"Like a really complicated walkie-talkie," Peter explained as he carefully poked around the cockpit.
Claire nodded to herself, trying her best to get to her feet and stand in the slanted space. Unfortunately, for the teenager, she was knocked right back on her rear when the pilot suddenly jerked back to life.
Peter jumped, sliding across the wet surface in surprise as he scrambled to the injured man's side. He was a heavy set man with a balding head and wire thin glasses. His eye was swollen and most of his skin was starting to turn black and blue.
Once she had gotten back on her own two feet, Claire managed to climb over to rest on the arm of the co-pilot's chair. Leaning over towards the pilot, she was able to see that his name tag read "A. Malsky."
Malsky's whole body shook as he took in several deep breaths, cough and sputtering as he did so. "W-whuh...? Where?"
"Here, drink this," Peter instructed as he pulled out a bottle of water he had been carrying in his backpack. He poured the water slowly down the man's throat, making sure that he did not choke on the fluids. "We crashed on a tropical island."
"H-how... how many survived?"
"There are forty-eight of us," Peter told him. "Does anything feel broken?"
"No... but my head feels a little woozy."
"You probably have a concussion," Peter noted, studying the man's swollen face with a critical eye.
"How... how long as it been?"
"About sixteen hours."
"Six... sixteen?" Malsky stammered in surprise. "Has anybody come?"
Peter frowned, biting his lip in regret. "No."
Malsky sighed, processing the information slowly. "Six hours in... our radio went out. No-one could see us. We turned back to land in Fiji. By the time we hit turbulence, we … we were a thousand miles off course. They're looking for us in the wrong place."
Peter and Claire fell silent as they began to take in the new information. The words "turned back" and "off course" kept swimming around in her head. How would anyone find them?
"Th-there's a transceiver," Malsky started, twisting around in his seat in an attempt to reach behind him. Placing a gentle hand on the wounded man's arm, Peter stopped his struggles and went ahead and dug around for the transceiver himself. Once he had found the device, Peter froze as if a thought suddenly popped into his head.
"Where's Isaac?"
Claire felt her eyes widen at the mention of the artist's name. Isaac had announced he wouldn't be joining them in the cabin, yet he hadn't made a sound the entire time they had been in there. Worry suddenly started to build up inside of the girl as images of the poor man losing his balance and falling to his death suddenly flashed through her mind. Without bothering to say a word, Claire scrambled out of the cockpit and back towards the door. Easing herself through the door frame, she peaked around the corner and was unable to find any trace of Isaac Mendez.
"Isaac?" she called out hesitantly. "Mr. Mendez?"
As soon as the man's surname escaped her lips, he suddenly re-emerged from the bathroom, flinging the door open with near violent force. Claire felt her heart jump into her throat at the man's sudden appearance. His eyes were wide and unfocused and for some reason Claire couldn't help, but think that he looked far too relaxed given their current situation.
"What were you doing in there?" she asked, gripping the walls for balance.
Isaac flashed her a lopsided smile as he eased himself out of the bathroom stall. "When ya gotta go..."
Claire frowned, deciding it was best not to think too hard about the situation as she climbed back into the cockpit, only to find that Peter and Malsky were having trouble getting the transceiver to work. Peter sighed, switching the device off. The teenager was about to ask what was wrong when suddenly, the strange noise that they had heard last night in the jungle filled the air. The four people all froze in fear as thunderous booms circled their location, rocking the already unsteady cabin.
"What was-" Malsky began, but Peter signaled him to keep quiet.
The noise soon disappeared and they were left in an uncomfortable silence. Malsky frowned, as he lifted himself out of his seat, peaking out the plane's broken windshield. Claire held her breath as the silence spread between them. The girl relaxed once Malsky backed away from the window, apparently having become satisfied that nothing was out there. Unfortunately, that's when the monster had decided to reach inside the cabin and drag the poor man through the windshield.
Claire screamed, screwing her eyes shut as the man was repeatedly slammed against the plane. She was barely able to process Peter's words as the man quickly grabbed her arms and began pushing her towards the door. They didn't make it, however, as the nose of the plane began to shake before crashing into the jungle. The three survivors fell face first to the floor, but wasted no time in scrambling back to their feet and running towards the door.
Once outside, Claire watched as Isaac shot like a dart into the woods zig-zagging wildly. She followed his lead, hoping that it could possibly help her escaped from the creature, but soon, she found herself running alone. Isaac and Peter had all but disappeared. With the combination of the heavy rain and the fear coursing through her body, Claire was practically blind in the now unfamiliar area. Before long, the girl found herself trapped in a field of bamboo shoots. Her whole body was trembling with fear as her wide eyes scanned the area.
"P-P-Peter!" she screeched. She repeated the name, over and over, until her voice felt sore from the effort. Tears began to well in her eyes. Peter... What if that thing had caught him? No. Peter couldn't be dead. He was too strong of a person to die like this.
Gathering up whatever courage was left inside of her being, Claire sprang forward in hopes of finding Peter, only to slam face first into another warm body. The two collided with an "oof," tumbling towards the soggy ground below. Claire grunted as she pulled herself back up and saw that she had run into Isaac.
"Isaac?" she gasped, noticing that the rain was finally starting to ease up. "Where's Peter?"
"I don't know," he admitted. "I just remember falling... Then he picked me up... Then he was just... gone."
The blond girl let out a long huff as she pushed her wet hair out of her face. "We have to find him," she stated, rolling off of Isaac and trying her best to stand on the slippery earth. Once she was back on her own two feet, she began wandering through the jungle, not bothering to check whether or not Isaac was behind her.
"You didn't call my name," Isaac said from behind her. "In the woods? When we were running from that... Monster. You said 'Peter.'" He paused briefly, most likely waiting for some sort of apology from Claire, but the girl didn't feel like she needed to give him one. She had been frightened and Peter had been the one taking care of her since the crash, not Isaac. It was only natural that her mind went to the male nurse first. "I'm Isaac."
Claire sighed, shaking her head and ignoring the older man as she continued to wander through the jungle, calling out Peter's name. There was no response. Nothing except the soft dripping of water on leaves and the eerie bird songs. It didn't take long before the two of them reached a small clearing. Water had pooled beneath the trees, and Claire felt her breath catch in her throat when she noticed the odd reflection in the water. It looked like... No. It couldn't be.
Craning her neck skyward, Claire was horrified to see that there was a man's body, bloody and nearly ripped to shreds, tangled lifelessly between the tree branches.
"W-what is that?" Isaac gapped.
"That's the pilot."
Claire spun around and was relieved to see Peter, dripping wet and nearly out of breath, walking towards them. In spite of the bloody mess hanging over head, Claire felt a wave a relief wash over her. "You're alive," she breathed gratefully.
"Yeah," Peter smiled, as he pulled the transceiver out of his pocket. "I'm alive."
"And that's great," Isaac said slowly, his eyes never leaving the dead body hanging above them, "but does anybody know, what kind of creature does something like that?"
Next Chapter