She was running.
Fast.
She had hoped to simply slip into the night, but there was no chance for that now; smoke was swirling around her, and the fire was spreading. Quickly.
Meredith Gordon stopped to take a breath.
She clutched a stitch in her side, and slumped against a towering brick wall, plastered with posters of government propaganda. She turned towards the burning building, well, buildings; a government compound used to house people like her.
People with abilities.
She had snuck in there, and lit the fire with her ability, her power. The building had gone up in flames as she helped to evacuate the people locked away, helped to take them out onto the street.
But DHS had been waiting for them.
Matt Parkman and his cronies. Chief among them, of course, the towering hunk of muscle known only as the Haitian.
The other had gotten away, but Meredith had gone back into the building to lead Parkman away from them. She had bolted through rooms blackened and burning, ignoring the blistering heat and roaring, spiraling flames. Back out onto the street.
She sat in the alley, listening for the sirens, for the helicopters roaring overhead.
She knew about Parkman, and the Haitian; one could read minds, the other stop powers from working…
Meredith dragged herself to her feet, and stumbled onwards.
She was tired, exhausted. But she had to get away.
Then she heard them.
Helicopters, two of them, swooping in, and a squadron of cop cars, at least six, based on the noise. She looked up. A spotlight focused on her. Bathed in brilliant white light, Meredith stood transfixed.
Five years on the run, fighting the government, but she was trapped.
"Freeze!" A voice bellowed from the loudspeakers strapped to helicopter. "Don't move!"
Meredith raised her hands, slowly, as the second copter appeared over the roof above her. From the smoke choked alley behind her, at least a dozen heavily-armed SWAT troopers surged towards her, shouting, barking repetitive, familiar commands at her.
"Stand down!"
"Put your hands on your head!"
Meredith did as she was told, slowly putting her hands atop her blonde crown.
From the smoke came the two she had feared; Matt and the Haitian. She immediately pushed every thought beneath the layers of mental protection she had developed during four years on the run.
"Well, well, well, Miss Gordon." Parkman shouted over the roar of the flames and the beating of the helicopter's whirring rotors, with a cruel smirk across his face. "The President's gonna be glad I caught you. Are you gonna come peacefully, or should I tell these men to open fire?"
Meredith didn't move.
She didn't speak.
She didn't dare to even breath.
She just focused on keeping her thoughts hidden from the smirking man's mind-reading abilities.
"I take your silence to mean you're gonna come quietly."
Meredith couldn't help herself. One thought drifted to the surface. Matt's eyes creased as he frowned in concentration. His eyes widened, and he took a step back.
Meredith looked directly at him, and allowed herself a smirk.
Her thought had been simple.
Two words.
Screw you.
Matt turned to the Haitian. "Get her."
The giant black man didn't waste a microsecond; his feet pounded the pavement as he bolted towards the slight, blonde woman capable of creating and controlling fire. He never got more than six steps, however.
It was as though he had struck an invisible wall.
He crumpled to the ground, clearly unconscious.
"What the hell?" Matt shouted, drawing his gun and taking a step forward. He looked at Meredith. "How did that happen?" He demanded.
"I don't know!" Meredith shouted.
Matt turned to the squad of SWAT guys behind him. "Get her."
Time seemed to stop. The SWAT men moved forward, and Matt's eyes widened in shock, as Meredith was forced backwards.
A man had suddenly appeared between them, wearing a long dark coat, with a scar cutting deeply across his face. He flicked a finger, and the spot-light helicopter suddenly pitched upwards. Meredith watched in horror as it spun into the other.
She covered her face as they exploded together, sending flaming shards of metal raining towards the alleyway.
Opening her eyes, she saw the man take a few steps towards the SWAT guys, staring in horror at what had been the helicopters, a hunk of twisted, burning metal now falling, quickly, towards the ground, a block away.
A second's confusion was all the man needed.
He swept his hand, and at once, half the SWAT guys had been thrown into the wall Meredith had huddled against moments before, hitting with sickening thuds. The others opened fire, but the bullets never hit the man; they just stopped in mid air before him.
He waved his hand again, and the remaining SWAT men were torn apart.
By their own bullets.
Meredith could do nothing. Just stare.
Parkman took a threatening step forward, but the man just waved his hand. Parkman was thrown backwards, skidding along the pavement.
Peter Petrelli turned towards the cowering fire-lady.
"Meredith Gordon, right?'
Meredith nodded, mutely.
"I'm Peter Petrelli. We need to get out of here."
"Wait, what? Petrelli?" Meredith barked in confusion.
"Nathan is my brother… and you're the mother of my niece."
"I know… why are you helping me? Why aren't you with your brother? Why aren't you helping Parkman and that… that Haitian?"
"Nathan's a bad person these days. C'mon." he took a step towards her, extending his right hand.
Meredith grabbed his wrist, and pulled herself up with his support.
He shuddered slightly, and Meredith felt drained for the briefest of moments. Then, in the distance, she heard the oncoming helicopters, at least four. "How're we gonna get away from them?" Meredith demanded.
"We're gonna fly…"
Peter looped his arms around Meredith's midsection.
"What're you doing? Where're we going?" Meredith shouted. "Did the others get away?"
Peter looked at her. "Yeah, they got away." He planted his feet on the ground, and pushed off. Meredith felt the earth drop away, and they soared upwards into the smoke-filled night.