Fallen Heroes (chapter thirteen)
In the bowels of hell
Mohinder sneaked down the staircase, Shawn and Gus right at his heels. He peeked through the door that led out into the hallway and found it empty. They went out. The halls were long, lined with doors that truly looked like prison cell doors, with only a small window to connect to the outside world.
They checked every one of those cells but found them empty. At the corner, Mohinder flattened himself against the wall, to peek into the next hall. It was empty.
“All right.“ he told them. “The cost´s clear. Go. Go. I´m right behind you.“
Shawn and Gus hurried past him and went on checking the next doors, right away. Gus on the right, Shawn on the left side of the hall.
Mohinder threw one last glance behind, to make sure no one was coming for them. Then he followed them. But when he looked ahead, he found the hall as empty as before. What the hell?
Shawn and Gus had just passed him. Where were they?
He started to run, until he reached the next corner. But the two halls that separated from there were empty too. There was no open door or anything, no way they could have taken. They´d just … vanished.
“Shawn.“ he called out as silent as possible. “Gus.“
Again he turned around. No one was there. That was just impossible.
And then he heard footsteps behind him, already believing that he´d fallen for a labyrinth effect of these corridors, that seemed to look all the same. But before he realized what was going on, he felt a pain in his shoulder, a stab, and reacted on pure instinct. When the person grabbed his shoulder, he grabbed right back and swirled the man around.
It all happened so fast that he couldn´t do anything but watch it like through a window. As if someone else had taken over his body´s movements and used it to smash this Company man into the wall, breaking his nose in the process, sending dozens of bone fragments into his brain.
Mohinder stared at what he´d done in shock, stumbling backwards, away from that man, that was now dying on the wall before him. He looked at his hand and the small strains of blood on it. His heart was thudding behind his ribs.
The pain in his shoulder reminded him of the attack and he reached up to pull out, whatever stuck there. He expected to see a knife but instead he held a syringe in his hand.
What had they given him? The same serum they´d injected Peter with? The virus that took away his abilities? Or was it something else instead? Tranquilizer? Poison?
Mohinder started to feel dizzy already.
He threw the syringe to the ground and looked around, to the end of the hallway. It seemed so much longer now than just a minute ago. So long. He started to run. But after only a few steps, his legs started to shake so violently that he couldn´t move them anymore. His head started to spin and another heartbeat later, he just lost every grip to his surroundings, and he dropped to the ground like a bag of bones.
...............
Meanwhile Shawn and Gus had hurried ahead, believing the geneticist would stay behind to keep his eyes open for possible guards. They checked every door they passed, to find Juliet and Lassiter, peering through the small windows. The first three cells Shawn checked were empty. The forth window he peered through brought the change. It wasn´t Jules he saw in there though.
“Lassie!“ he cried and immediately tried the door. To his big surprise it wasn´t locked.
He didn´t wait to find out why, but ran right in.
“Gus, in here, I found Lassie.“ he cried in a whisper tone and crouched next to the unconscious detective. “Lassie.“ he shook his arm. “Lassie, come on, man, wake up. Wake up.“
He was just about to stand up again, to have a look out of the door for Gus, when Lassiter came to life, grabbing him. The unexpected attack surprised Shawn and he lost his balance. Lassiter rolled from his bed and right over him, coming to a perfect stop with his left hand on Shawn´s collar and his right fist an inch before his face.
“Lassie, no.“ Shawn cried through gritted teeth, desperately trying not to lose consciousness because of the pain in his shot shoulder. “It´s me.“ he managed to bring out. When the detective halted in confusion, he added. “Relax, Lassie. Bad boy. Drop it.“
Finally the detective came back around, released him with a shaking hand.
“Spencer?“ he asked. “What the hell …?“
“It´s all right, Lassie.“ Shawn tried to sound soothing, struggling to sit up. “We found you.“
The detective held his head in his hand, as if fighting a nausea. Eventually he looked up. “What happened?“ he demanded to know.
“We hoped you could tell us.“ Shawn had to use the bed on which Lassiter´d been as support, to stand up. “We lost contact.“ he told him. “We came here to get you out.“
Lassiter´s eyes rushed back and forth, in his attempt to remember what happened. His next action was to look Shawn up and down.
“What are you wearing?“ he asked with a frown, regarding the black clothing and bulletproof vest.
“I know. Cool, huh? Wait until Jules sees me in that.“
“O´Hara.“ Lassiter cried, jumping up. “Where is she?“
“I´m sure Gus found her by now.“ Shawn replied and hurried over to the door. “When I found you that easily, he sure will …“ He halted, frowning, looking out into the corridor. “What the … Gus?“
He´d barely finished his call, when Lassiter pulled him back into the cell, pressing a hand over his mouth. He was listening. Shawn could hear something too.
The detective went down, to crouch behind the door, his back pressed against the wall.
“They must have heard you coming.“ he whispered.
“Impossible.“ Shawn hissed. “I was as silent as a ninja. It must have been Gus they heard. Or this doctor Suresh. He´s as clumsy as a bull in an Indian shop.“
Lassiter threw him a brief frown, but decided to better focus, on the sounds of the approaching guards.
“They must have heard you when you broke the door open.“ he guessed.
“The door was open. I didn´t need to break it.“ Shawn explained and got another frown. He raised his finger, remembering something and searched his pockets until he found it. “I brought you something.“ he handed Lassiter the Glock.
The detective´s eyes started to glow when he took it. “Great, Spencer.“ he cheered and after he checked the magazine, looked at Shawn asking.
The fake psychic showed him the gun he´d brought for himself. He´d hoped he wouldn´t have to use it but now it seemed that he wouldn´t have a choice.
Lassiter nodded at him. “I´ll back you up.“ he said. “When they take cover, you run.“
“What? No way. I came in here to get you out. Means I should give you backup and you run.“
“Spencer, I´m the detective here and you are the civilian. You´ll do what I say.“
“But there are rules.“
“What rules?“
“Of rescue missions.“ Shawn cried. “There is one that gets rescued and one that is the hero and you were the one who got caught in the first place, so you can´t be the hero. Besides, I should be rescuing Jules by now, not you. That is so not fair.“
“Spencer, would you stop that nonsense and …“
Someone shouted outside of their cell and shots rang out. Lassiter reacted instinctively and started to shoot back at them. Shawn flinched at the sudden noise all around him. Then he only smelled the gunpowder.
................
Gus opened the door with a surprised frown. He hadn´t expected the door to be open. That he´d tried it after spotting Juliet, had been a reaction of pure hope. Never ever he would have expected it to come true. Now the door was open and Juliet lay there in reachable distance. Gus almost couldn´t believe it.
“Juliet.“ he cried and hurried over to her, calling Shawn over his shoulder and immediately padded the detective´s cheek. “Juliet, wake up. Come on, wake up.“
She opened her eyes, a sleepy moan coming from her lips. As soon as she focused on him, she was fully awake though and sat up. “Gus.“ she cried. “What happened?“
“We lost contact to you and Lassiter.“ he told her. “Don´t worry, we came to get you out.“
“We?“
“Shawn is with me and doctor Suresh. Bennet and the others are holding them off so we can run.“
“What?“ she shook her head in confusion. Her hand shot to her pocket. “The disc!“
“Don´t worry.“ Gus said and sneaked to the door. “Bennet has a copy. He´s taking care of it. He said we should see that we get out of here.“ he reached the door. “Sha …“ but Shawn was not there anymore. What the hell?
“Who´s Bennet?“ Juliet asked behind him, but he barely heard her.
“He … He was right behind me.“ he stuttered.
“Bennet?“
“No, Shawn. And Suresh. I don´t understand that. Where the hell are they?“
“All right.“ Juliet said, still a little weak.
She swayed for a moment and Gus reached out a hand, to support her. She nodded at him that she was okay, taking a breath to clear her head.
“Do you have a weapon?“
“Oh, yeah.“ Gus hurried and gave it to her. She checked the magazine and was satisfied. “You ever shot a gun?“ she asked uncertain, looking at the gun he was carrying himself.
“Hell, no.“ Gus cried. “Bennet just gave it to me without asking.“
“Who is this Bennet you keep talking about?“ she asked him.
“Oh right, you don´t know him. That´s the lawyer who got Petrelli out of the station.“
“The lawyer?“
“Yeah, but he is no lawyer. He´s some sort of ex-hitman or something. I didn´t really understand it all. All I understood is that Claire is mad with him because he betrayed her. But I think deep down she still cares for him.“
“It´s all right, Gus.“ Juliet said, trying to make sense out of that all and failed. “Just stay behind me.“ she said at last. “We´ll find Shawn and Carlton and then we´ll get the hell out of here.“
“Okay.“ Gus agreed, feeling extremely worried.
He followed Juliet outside, the gun in his own hand feeling oddly cold and heavy. Oh, he so hoped that he wouldn´t have to shoot at anyone. He would probably hit Juliet instead or even more likely, himself, before he hit what he was aiming for. And the way he knew Shawn and his stupid one man improvs, he´d accidentally shoot at him, when he suddenly came around the corner with one of his stupid grins on his face. Oh, so god help him, if Shawn should really do that to him, he would so strangle him.
“Which way did you come?“ Juliet whispered at him.
“That way.“ he showed her the direction and together they started to sneak along the corridor.
They reached the next corner and Juliet prepared herself. But when she swirled around it, she aimed at nothing but another empty corridor. They exchanged a glance.
“I don´t understand that.“ Gus said. “They were right behind me. When I saw you through the window in that door, I saw Shawn looking through another. I thought he might have found Lassiter. And now …“
“We´ll find them.“ Juliet assured him.
But somehow Gus had the feeling that her confident tone was fake, that she was as creeped out over this place as he was. Especially since he remembered that there was supposed to be a shootout happening in the upper floors. Even with three floors between them, shouldn´t there be something that they could hear? Why the hell was everything so silent?
...............
Mohinder´s vision was blurred but he came back around. Slowly it cleared again. There was a moving spot a few feet away from him. After his eyes had readjusted to their natural purpose, he could see that it was a cockroach, peacefully passing him as if it was just out for a little walk. Mohinder groaned. Lifting himself up was the hardest thing in the world but somehow he managed it. The man he´d killed, was still lying on the ground. Just looking at him made Mohinder want to vomit. He hadn´t wanted to kill him. How could this happen? He´d just swirled around, had barely touched him. Adrenalin could do a lot but that? That?
He started to move again. He had to find Shawn and Gus. Had they been caught? Where were they? The dizziness was still in his head while he walked along the hall, checking the doors. His legs seemed to get stronger though. At least they didn´t shake any longer. How long had he been out?
He peered through the windows in the doors but the cells were all empty. How many cells did they have down here? And what for? There had to be dozens of them.
“Shawn!“ he called out, taking the risk that he could be heard. “Gus! Where are you?“
He got no answer.
So he went on checking the cells. What else could he do? He´d promised to find the two detectives and he intended to keep his promise. Somehow. It had been him who´d gotten them into this.
He checked the next cell, and was regarded with a sight he hadn´t expected. There was a prisoner lying on the cot, but it was neither of the detectives. It was Sylar.
Mohinder opened the door and went in, completely startled over this discovery. So he was still alive. Why? He was a special and according to their master plan he had to die. They could have killed him. They had the virus to take away his abilities but they hadn´t killed him with it. Did they want to keep him for further studying?
Mohinder needed to support himself on the edge of the cot when a feverish heat rushed through his body and into his head. After it was gone, he looked over his shoulder but no one was coming. Why hadn´t the door been locked?
Sylar looked very pale. Maybe he was dead after all? Mohinder checked his pulse but it was there. That couldn´t be the reason, for the door being unlocked. Something was wrong here. Very wrong.
Mohinder reached out a hand, to shake Sylar, but hesitated. Should he really wake him? Shouldn´t he rather leave him here and lock the door behind him, so he´d be save behind bars where he belonged? But then he remembered where they were and that this place was not a usual prison. It wasn´t even the usual Company anymore. These people were worse than Sylar. Far worse. They were stone cold murderers and not even Sylar deserved to die like that. Besides, Mohinder would need his help if he was really alone in here, with no idea where Shawn and Gus had gone to. The way he felt right now, he was most likely poisoned in some way.
So he grabbed the killer´s shoulder and started to shake him. Halfway through the motion, he noticed something on his hand though, and halted. The light in this cell was dim, so he hadn´t spotted it before. But now he had no chance to overlook it. Those dark spots on the back of his hand … that wasn´t the blood of the guard. It was something standing out from his own skin.
“No.“ he breathed, when realization hit him and skipped away from the cot, as if he´d gotten an infection from it.
But of course he knew where it really came from. The injection had done that to him. He had no idea how but it had to be that way. How else could he explain this? Where else did these scales come from? Oh, god, he´d thought he´d be rid of them for good. He´d thought he´d survived it back then. He´d thought he´d been cured.
But as a scientist he knew that a decease like that didn´t just vanish. It was hiding in the body of the host, inactive, if the host was lucky for the rest of his life. But now he was staring down at his hands and arms and they were over and over covered with scales. The decease had found its way back to the surface again and it was breaking through violently.
“No.“ he whined, his voice shaking, and backed up, until his back was pressed against the wall.
Still he couldn´t take his eyes off this mutation on his arms. The one he´d though that if he´d ever see it again, then only in his nightmares. Never in real life. His arms started to shake when a wave of fear and disgust washed over Mohinder´s whole body. At last his legs gave in and he slid down the wall until he was covering in the corner.
“No, please no.“ he whined.
On the other side of the small room, Sylar´s head started to move. The killer came out of his unconscious state. There were sounds he couldn´t place. When he turned his head to see what it was, he noticed a crouched figure in the corner. He needed a few more seconds to realize what he saw there.
“Mohinder?“ he asked, startled but got no answer.
Slowly he struggled himself up into a sitting position.
“Mohinder, what´s the matter? Where are we?“
Still he got no answer. Instead the scientist was talking to himself in a shaking voice, not even acknowledging Sylar´s presence.
“This is not true.“ he whispered to himself. “It cannot be. It can´t.“
“Mohinder.“ the killer addressed him again. By now the behavior of the geneticist started to scare him. He got up and stumbled over to him, on weak legs. Halfway to him, he saw what had startled the man so much, and Sylar stopped, dead in his tracks.
“Oh, god.“
His legs were still shaking and he went down to his knees, still unable to take his eyes off that mutating man. „What happened?“ he asked.
Finally the scientist payed attention to his voice. One eye peeked through his shaking wrists, first full of rage, then the fear took over again and Mohinder looked at the door, the ceiling, the floor. Everywhere. Like a hunted animal.
“An injection.“ he told Sylar without looking at him. “But that is wrong. It´s happening too fast. Much too fast.“
A wave of cold fear ran over the killer´s back. Mohinder´s voice. It sounded so different. Not only that he sounded haunted and sick. But there was a rasping sound in it, that reminded of something that wasn´t human. The breaths he took in were loud and rattling. And then all the sudden, Mohinder started to cough, his body shaking violently. When he doubled over, Sylar could see that something was standing out from his back, pressing against the cloth of his shirt. Something edgy.
The coughing was hard and violent and it didn´t stop. Sylar inched closer, seriously worried by now, and reached out a hand. But the geneticist hit out.
“Don´t touch me.“ he hissed in a voice that wasn´t human.
The strength that pushed Sylar back, was much more than the killer could handle and a second later he found himself on the other side of the room. Something cracked in his ribcage when he collided with the wall and there was warm liquid running down his cheek. Mohinder looked at him, with shocked eyes but then the haunted look was back. Sylar took a moment to give his injuries time to heal.
“If they did this to you, they must have a cure for it as well.“ he told Mohinder.
“There is no cure.“ was the desperate answer.
“You cured yourself from it once already.“ Sylar recalled.
“No.“ Mohinder denied, breathing heavily and rattling. “A lucky coincidence cured me. And you killed the man who made that possible. There is no cure. Not anymore. Not this time.“ He stared at his own hands. “I´m a monster.“
“First of all you´re a scientist.“ Sylar replied. “You can´t just lie down and give up.“
The dark eyes of the geneticist looked up at him. By now they were really dark, no white was left in them. Mohinder chuckled. It sounded like a rattle snake.
“And you wanted to tell me how it feels when the monster comes out.“ he recalled. “Now look at me.“
“We´ll find a way.“ Sylar assured him.
Again there was that hatred in the scientist´s eyes. “We?“ he repeated coldly.
“I´ll help you.“
“You are a murderer.“ Mohinder recalled, once again.
“And you are a mad scientist.“ Sylar replied with a shrug. “Matches pretty good, doesn´t it? Pinky and Brain?“
Mohinder stared at him for one more minute. Then he started to laugh … and to cough again.
..............
While the killer tried to take care of the mutated scientist in one place and Gus and Juliet were trying to find their way out of a seemingly endless labyrinth of hallways on another, Shawn was crouching next to Lassiter. The detective was shooting out into the hallway and so was Shawn. So far they hadn´t even had a chance to leave the cell.
The guards that were out there, had taken cover behind a corner and this whole thing had become like a typical gang shooting in the streets. Only that they weren´t in a street. They were in a prison. So it was practically more like a prison riot. Anyway, the whole situation was just ridiculous. Because it reminded too much of a bad action movie, where there were shootings in every third scene, only to honor the name action movie.
Lassiter stopped shooting and hurried to put another magazine into his gun, while Shawn kept the guards busy.
“When I shoot next time, you bolt for the corner, understood?“ the detective demanded. “And don´t you dare to argue with me again.“ he added, shutting Shawn´s mouth before the fake psychic could say a word.
He prepared himself and at last nodded at Shawn. When he swirled around the corner again to shoot the guards back into cover, Shawn bolted. He ran with his head ducked down, until he was at the corner. Being there he turned back around, to see where Lassiter was. He saw him at the door, still shooting. One of the guards went down, hit by his bullet.
“Lassie, come on!“ Shawn shouted and prepared to give him the same cover, the detective had given him. Only that he didn´t get a chance to do so, because all the sudden there were footsteps behind him.
“Spencer!“ Lassiter yelled, and Shawn swirled around.
The only thing he saw was the muzzle of the gun that was pointed at his face. And then the shot rang out and his head was thrown around. Dimly he realized that something had hit him beneath his left eye. But that was all he could notice consciously - that and Lassiter yelling his name - before the lights went out in his head and he just fell.
...................
They were just around the corner, to take new cover from the shots, when Gretchen was hit. Claire heard her groan and then she saw her friend lying on the ground, a gunshot wound in her back, despite of the vest she was wearing.
Claire stared at her, shocked. How was that possible? No bullet could shoot through a vest. Right? Right?
“They have cop killers!“ Lauren shouted and kept shooting to hold them off.
Immediately Claire was by Gretchen´s side, dragging her to the safety of the new line, Lauren provided for them. Claire turned her friend around and saw the blood on her lips. No.
“Hold on.“ she told her and hurried to get the syringe out of her pocket. “It´ll be just a sec.“ she promised and started to extract some blood from her own arm.
“Your blood in my veins?“ Gretchen asked with a smile. “Great idea.“
Claire chuckled but hurried to inject her friend with the all-healing substance.
“Hurry up!“ Lauren cried, still desperately trying to keep the guards busy.
The two culprits they had brought in with them, had been shot long ago, and Peter was distracted with more guards, somewhere behind them. The Company had come up with much more manpower than they all had expected. It was as if they had known that they´d come.
But that couldn´t be, Lauren mused. If they would have known they had never allowed them to come in here in the first place. So all of this could only be a mere coincidence. Maybe they´d planned a new mission, to take out a special somewhere. That could explain why there were so many men ready to fight just now. Either that or this new Company was much more paranoid than they could have guessed. This massive, almost army-like presence was just insane.
Claire looked down on her friend, waiting for the healing process to start. When it didn´t happen, she got nervous.
“What is that?“ she cried. “Why is it not working?“
Lauren threw a glance over her shoulder. “Maybe it wasn´t enough.“ she suggested but had to keep shooting the next moment. She pulled a grenade out and threw it. The explosion echoed through the corridor and distracted the guards, for at least a minute.
“It was a full syringe. It has to be enough.“ Claire cried. Gretchen looked up at her as bewildered as she was. Her gaze was full of worry, not only for herself but also for Claire. Suddenly her eyes went wide.
“Claire.“ she brought out and pointed at her head.
First Claire didn´t understand the gesture. But then she noticed the small trickle of blood that ran down her own neck. She reached up, frantically, scared to death. She hadn´t even noticed the little syringe that still stuck there. She pulled it out and threw it away, disgusted. The stitch it had caused, didn´t heal.
Claire´s heart was pounding with fear. It was no severe injury and she didn´t feel dizzy or anything. But her wound should have healed by now.
“Oh, no.“ she breathed when she realized what had happened. She looked at Gretchen with fear. Her wound was severe. And if she couldn´t heal her with her blood …
“You should have listened to me, Claire.“ the voice of her father spoke up behind her. Claire swirled around to him in shock. He was just standing there, looking down on her with these calm uncaring eyes, she loathed so much. “I told you it was a mistake to get normal people into this. Now you see what happened. Her death is on you, Claire.“
“Noah.“ Lauren cried, as startled as Claire. He looked at her and the next moment, she got shot from behind, where the guards had finally closed in. Her vest was defeated as easily as Gretchen´s before. Noah didn´t even flinch when she fell to the ground.
“What did you do?“ Claire shouted at him.
“What I had to.“ was his answer. “To make you understand. All I wanted is to protect you. And if you don´t wanna listen, I need to lock you up. For your own safety.“
“How could you do that?“ she yelled at him.
He just looked at her with that placid face of his. “I´m really sorry, Claire-Bear.“ he said and shook his head. “But you leave me no choice. You´re grounded.“
Next chapter …
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