Chapter 14: The Road to Damascus

Samuel could feel all of their eyes on him. He knew he was being scrutinized, judged, feared, all for letting his emotions get in the way yesterday. Every time he approached someone, they turned away, moved on with their activities. It was enough to break his heart. He sat down at a table with Lydia.

"I found Sarah," she said, not looking up.

The news brought Samuel happiness. "That's wonderful! Is she alright?"

"She's . . . alive. At least, she was when I saw her. Right after I left, the earthquake happened."

"Where is she?"

"Hiding."

Samuel laughed. "That doesn't tell me where she is."

"Because I don't want to tell you."

Samuel's expression went serious. "Why not?"

"There's a reason why she ran away. She was afraid, more afraid than ever. I don't know why, but I could feel it so strongly in her."

"Did she touch you, or allowed you to touch her?"

Lydia smiled. "She hugged me, very tightly too, and she did not want to let go."

"And yet she didn't reveal . . ."

"Nothing specifically. She probably knew about the earthquake, yet I can't help but think there was something more. All I know is she never wants to come back to the carnival."

"Did she give you a dream?"

"Maybe, but I couldn't sleep. I was too worried about what happened yesterday."

Samuel sighed. "So . . . we lost her. After all we've done."

"I don't think so. She spoke to me. Not verbally, but she communicated a message to me." Lydia made the "I love you" sign.

"She did that to you? Why? Why would she say that to you and not to me?"

"Because you scare her."

Samuel's tone became bitter. "After all I've done for her, for you, for everyone, I'm the villain! And you, you seem to become the empath to replace Joseph."

She shook her head. "No, I'm not Joseph's replacement. Joseph could do things I never can."

"Still, you placate her. She's looking to you now for her voice. Everyone is, aren't they? You've always been somewhat of Sarah's mouthpiece; you've said so yourself. What have you been telling them?"

"Nobody respects you anymore, especially her."

Samuel burned with anger. "Then I'm gonna win it back! I love them! I need them! And I'll do whatever I need to do to prove my worth!"

"I fear that's the problem."

Samuel got up and left. The plan was already starting to form in his head.

Gabe woke up early that morning and started reading some of the literature Mohinder gave him when his phone rang. He answered, "Allo?"

"Hey, Gabe?"

"Peter? How are you?"

"OK. Listen, I have a favor to ask of you, and it's gonna sound kinda weird."

"What is it?"

"You remember our friend Emma?"

"Oui."

"I need you to . . . hang out with her."

"Huh?"

"You know, go where she goes, talk to her, maybe take her out to eat lunch somewhere. But all that time, I really need for you to . . . keep up that resistance."

"You mean, you don't want her power to work?"

"Yeah, that's what I mean."

"Why?"

"I took my mother's power, and I've been having dreams. I don't really understand, but Emma's power is going to be responsible for killing a lot of people. I just want to make sure that doesn't happen."

"Why don't you call Renee, the man from Haiti?"

"I thought about that, but I think you'd be the better choice because she doesn't know Renee. She knows you."

"And why don't you take his power?"

"Because I gotta look for . . . somebody else, someone who might be important according to the dream. What's the matter? Don't you want to spend time with Emma?"

"Well, she is a nice woman, but . . . I don't know. I just don't feel right doing that to her. It would be like leading her on."

"Well, if you were her friend, you wouldn't want her to kill a lot of people. So, you'd be doing her a favor."

"I guess you're right."

"OK, I'll pick you up, drop you off at the hospital. I've been having a hard time reaching her, but hopefully she'll be there."

Later that day, Peter called Michael and asked to meet him at Central Park. He found Michael at the same place where he first saw him, except without the piano.

"What is it you need, Peter?" Michael asked.

"I can't believe I'm asking you this, but . . . do you know where Sylar is?"

Michael nodded. "I do. He's on the road to Damascus."

"Damascus? Where's that?"

Michael shook his head. "It's a metaphor. Remember the story from Acts 9? Saul was on the road to Damascus, intent on imprisoning Christians. But on the way, he saw a light from Heaven and heard the voice of the Lord. After the vision, he was blinded. For three days, he had nowhere to look but within himself. And then he was healed of his blindness, and he was baptized, and he went on to become one of the most important figures of early Christianity."

"You think that's Sylar? Look, man, it's never going to happen."

"I think it is. Gabriel told me that he was going away to purge his soul. I'm not exactly sure what that means, but he knows, as does God."

"Well, even if he does, do you even deserves salvation?"

"Of course not! Who does?"

"No, I mean, how would you feel if that man who killed so many people went to Heaven?"

"I'd feel triumphant in the grace of God, that even such a man can be redeemed. Peter, Paul probably was responsible for much more than Gabriel, and look what happened to him."

Peter sighed. "Let's argue this later. I need to know where he is, literally."

"Why?"

"Because . . . I need his help."

"He didn't tell me where he was going, but I think I can help you find him."

In the evening, Claire Bennet came to the carnival. Lydia heard her coming. "Claire, what are you doing here?"

"We need to talk," Claire answered.

She held both of Lydia's hands, and Lydia saw everything. "Your father's coming for Samuel . . . to kill him." Immediately, she tensed up. She could hear her heart pounding in her ears. It had been a long time since she felt so afraid. "Oh no. This could be bad."

"It's not going to be bad. That's why I came ahead. I don't want my dad or anyone else getting hurt."

"You don't understand, Claire. I'm not the only fortune teller here. We have another one, who actually sees a lot more than I do. Something terrified her, and she ran away. This could be it! This could be a disaster!"

"It doesn't have to be! All we have to do is have Samuel turn himself in. No one else has to be hurt."

"He won't do it."

"We have to try!"

"Claire, he's not listening to me, or anyone. If your father is really on his way, I should get Amanda."

"Then what, Lydia?" Samuel suddenly jumped into their conversation to ask. "Run away after Sarah? Has it come to that?"

"You don't understand, Samuel. I think there may have been a reason why Sarah didn't want me to leave."

"Then I can't say I blame you."

The three of them had a long talk, and Claire did eventually convince Samuel to turn himself over. However, Lydia kept contemplating in her mind whether or not she should leave. Why didn't Sarah want her to go? Why was she so afraid?

In the end, she didn't know why she stayed. Maybe she thought it would really work and Samuel would hand himself in peaceably. Maybe it was out of concern for the rest of the family. Whatever it was, the decision came with the fatal consequence. She saw with her own eyes what Sarah had seen two days earlier, the massacre. And then she felt the pain of the bullets tear into her flesh, into her heart. Pain that washed over her and refused to relent. Perhaps it was a miracle that she clung to life as long as she did.

Samuel was by her side, holding her gently. "You wanted to know what was in my heart?" he said. Then he knelt down and kissed her lips. The whole scene, the horrible truth was revealed to her in these last moments. She almost gagged it down.

"You . . . did . . . this?"

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he whispered.

Lydia wailed. She suddenly knew how Sarah felt like.

"They needed a villain, someone worse than me. You gave that to them. Thank you."

He kissed her gently on her head, but she had only one thought. "Sarah . . . I shouldn't have left . . . Sarah."

Claire ran up to her with rags, but Samuel said, "It's too late, Claire, she's gone." He set her down and watched as her tattoos faded. He happened to notice a strange one he hadn't seen before on her upper left arm. It looked like a cellar. He wept, but he knew in the depths of his soul that it was just for show.

Gabe day with Emma was, in a word, awkward. Peter had strictly told him not to let her know about his vision. He said the last time he tried to explain it to her, she told him "Goodbye" with a tone that implied that it was for forever. So even though asked several times, both verbally and in sign language, why he was there, Gabe couldn't think of a good answer. He tried to help her with small tasks like getting the files she needed. They talked a little. Emma asked him what it was like to be autistic, and Gabe asked her if she ever been to Martha's Vineyard and what it was like. He brought his Sudoku puzzle book, and when they had free time, they did some puzzles together.

About 6:00, Gabe signed to her, "I am hungry. Would you like to go out somewhere to eat?"

A uncertain look crossed Emma's face. She looked at him and said aloud, "Gabe, you are a nice boy, and a good friend, and you are kinda cute, but . . . you're a little young for me."

"What? Oh!" Gabe started to laugh, and he signed quickly, "No, no, no, no, it's not a date. I'm not infatuated with you, even though you are kinda pretty, and nice, and a good friend. I'm just hungry, and I didn't bring anything for supper, and I would like to go somewhere with you . . . as a friend."

"Well, you have to admit, this is strange. Why else would you want this much time with me?"

"Please, do not ask me that again."

"Well, I'll go get into my street clothes. Mexican sounds good tonight."

"Mexican. Yummy."

Emma went back into the locker room. Soon after she left, a man appeared at the window. "Excuse me, I'm looking for Emma Coolidge?"

"She's about to get off her shift. Anything I can do for you, sir?"

"It's really important that I see her. I have a message for her, and it's kinda an emergency." He held out an envelope. Gabe and looked closer at the man. He looked sorta familiar.

"Has anyone ever told you that you look like Dave Matthews?"

The man chuckled. "I get that a lot. Too bad I can't play . . . or sing."

As soon as Emma came back, Gabe handed her the envelope. Emma opened it, and she gasped. "Oh no! Something terrible's happened at Samuel's carnival."

"What is it?" Gabe asked.

"This says someone opened fired on them. They had a casualty."

"We need you to come as soon as possible," the messenger said.

"Wait," Gabe said. "You're from the carnival?"

"That's right."

"What do you do?"

"This," the man voice came from behind him. Gabe turned around, but he only saw an identical form of the man for a second before he disappeared. He turned back to the original.

"You really are like Sarah, aren't you?" the man said, annoyed.

"Is she alright?" Gabe asked.

"I don't know. I haven't seen her."

"Gabe, let's go," Emma signed. "We can pick something up on the way down, but this takes priority."

"I agree," he nodded.

"We're coming," she said aloud to the messenger.

After Samuel ordered Bennet to be tied up in the House of Mirrors and Claire be locked in his trailer, the crowd thinned out. It was the perfect time. "Doyle, I need your help."

"Sure, Samuel, anything."

They walked around until they found the cellar doors from Lydia's tattoo. "Wait here," Samuel ordered. He pulled opened the door and walked down the stairs. He saw her there, sitting in the corner. She looked up at him pitifully, shivering.

"Oh, Sarah," he said mournfully. "Here you are, all alone. No one to kiss your ears. No one to take your tears. No one to placate you." He sat down on his knees in front of her. "Poor, poor child. You know, what I told you all along was true. I do love so much. In fact, I may have loved you the most. And I never knew why it seemed like you didn't love me back. But now, I understand. It's because you knew, all along, didn't you. You know what happened out at the carnival tonight and all that's behind it. You revealed it to Lydia, or at least tried to. And I can't have you reveal the truth to everyone else. It will ruin everything. So, I need you to go to sleep. It will be easier if you were asleep."

Sarah shook her head with a sad look on her face.

So, Samuel went back up the stairs and got Doyle. "I need you to make her lie down and close her eyes."

"Sorry, Samuel," Doyle answered, "if she's like Harmony, I can't make her do anything."

"She needs to have her defenses broken down, get relaxed. I think I know ways to do that." He sang to her "You Are My Sunshine" a few times, but she kept looking at him in terror. Then Samuel picked up her crystal ball, shook it up so that the rainbow glitter rained down, and turned the key as tight as it would go. He put it back into her hand, and she stared into it as the music box played, "Somewhere Over the Rainbow." "That should do it."

So Doyle lowered his hands, like a conductor commanding a decrescendo. Sarah gently fell down on her back. Then with a quick movement with his right index finger, he caused her eyes to close.

"Good. Now, keep her like that. Don't make her feel too uncomfortable." They watched until Sarah started breathing evenly. "That's it. She's asleep." Samuel cautiously got up and shook Doyle's hand. "Thanks, Doyle. You can go."

"Glad to be of help." As he went up, he looked back. "Should I tell everybody that we found her?"

Samuel shook his head. "No."

"It might lighten the mood a little."

"Trust me, Doyle, I know what I'm doing. Now, go on. Tell them I'll be there shortly."

When Samuel got out of the cellar, he checked around and made sure Doyle was completely gone. Then he took a deep breath, closed both of his fists, and slammed them down. The doors of the cellar collapsed, and he could feel the rest of the cellar crumble. A tear trickled down his cheek as he released his hands. This time, he knew it was genuine. He wiped the tear away, regained his composure, and went back to the carnival.

Two birds landed on the curb of a neighborhood and then changed into two people. "This is Matt's house," Peter said.

"Matt Parkman, yes," Michael answered.

"How do you know he's here?"

"This was where he was last time. Something tells me he came back."

"What?"

Michael sighed. "It's hard to explain. Why don't you take his power next? Maybe then it will make more sense to you."

"Good idea." Peter knocked on the door. "Matt?" he called. He knocked a few times and called out his name a little louder.

Soon, Matt Parkman came and open the door. "Hey man! Sorry, I was just working downstairs."

"At least you're sober this time," Michael spoke up.

"Huh? Oh yeah! Hey. Uh, sorry about that."

"Am I welcome here?"

"Yeah, of course. Come on in."

Peter took Matt's hand to shake it, but then he paused. "Sylar is here."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about what you're thinking." He walked past Matt toward the basement.

"You here to take him? You can't just take him!"

"People will die, Matt! Sylar has to save him!"

"But he's a murderer!"

"Even so," Michael spoke up, "he's still entitled to–AAAAAAAAAAGH!" He saw it first, the brick wall, and Sylar lying unconscious behind it. He turned and looked at his host. "FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, PARKMAN!"

"YES, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD! You think He'd want a monster like that out there?"

"He's a human being!"

"HE'S A MONSTER!"

"What did you do?" Peter asked.

"I went inside his head and trapped him in his worst nightmare. He'll never hurt anyone again."

"I have to bring him back."

He went straight to Sylar's body despite Matt's protests. Peter touched Sylar's head, and the moment he did, he fell over unconscious.

"Peter?" Michael called. He shook his friend and kept calling his name, but Peter stayed limp.

"It's no use," Matt said. "He's stuck in Sylar's nightmare, and I don't think there's a way to bring him back. I got to finish what I started." He grabbed a brick and continued to lay cement.

"How could you do this?"

"Is that part of his consciousness still in you?"

"Yes."

"Then you understand. There's no humanity left in him. He's all evil."

"No, he's not. He's starting to repent. He told me he came here to purge his soul."

"A hour ago, he threatened my wife's life! Does that strike you as someone who's penitent?"

"Perhaps that's all he knows. I don't see why all of you don't believe that he can change his ways, like there's no hope for him. It happened to Paul! He arranged for the torture and death of hundreds, maybe thousands of people. But he completely changed!"

"That was thousands of years ago, and not very many people talk about having an experience like that. If they do talk about meeting Jesus face to face, they're usually branded as nuts."

"What about Jeffrey Dahmer?"

"What about Jeffrey Dahmer?"

"He did worse things that Sylar ever did, unspeakable things, but someone saw hope even in him, studied the Bible with him in prison, and he became a Christian!"

Matt scoffed. "Do you honestly think we'll see Jeffrey Dahmer in Heaven?"

"Yes! That's what grace is all about. I mean, read Ezekiel!"

Matt stopped working, turned to Michael, and pointed his trowel at him. "Look, I don't have your faith, and I'm not willing to take a risk. So, I'm not going to stop."

"Very well," Michael said. "Then I will stay down here and pray until my legs go numb and I am unable to stand that Gabriel will come to his senses and his heart will turn again."

Matt sighed and went back to work. Michael got down on his knees, bowed his head, and started whispering.

Gabe followed Emma as she walked through the carnival. Everyone ran past them, looking so frightened and confused. Some people were badly injured. To Gabe, this was much more disturbing and disorienting than when all the bright lights were on and all the sound was everywhere.

A man who looked somewhat familiar approached Emma. "Samuel said you'd come. Thank goodness you're here. We need your help." He led them back to a tent which had all sorts of medical supplies and injured people sitting on cots. Among them was Samuel.

"Finally, there's a doctor in the house!" he said aloud while signing. Gabe came closer to see what this was about. Samuel's shirt was open, and he had a bad wound on his shoulder. As Samuel saw him, he smiled even bigger. "Gabriel! You always come at such surprising times. It's nice to see you here."

"What happened?" Emma asked.

"We were attacked."

"Oui, that's what your message said, but by whom?" Gabe asked.

Samuel signed again, "People who don't understand us. People who fear us."

"That doesn't tell me anything," Gabe said.

"It doesn't matter." He grabbed Emma's hand. "What matters is that you're here. You're not just gonna heal me, Emma. You're gonna help us make a new world for ourselves."

"New world?" she signed back.

"Yeah," he answered. "We'll show them, Emma. We'll show them how great we can be."

Gabe didn't like how vague he was. Besides, what he was proposing was his job. After Emma treated Samuel's wound and put his arm in a sling, Gabe cleared his throat impatiently.

"Well, I suppose that you do need to know more, Gabriel. Come with me." He signed to Emma, directing her to help another victim. They walked outside, and Samuel explained, "This evening, Claire sent word to us that her father was coming for me. She urged me to surrender peacefully so that no one would get hurt. I fully intended to, and I went out into the field to explain to everyone what I was doing, the same place Joseph once explained the truth about Sarah's origin. But then, Bennet opened fire on us, and . . . well, see for yourself."

He led Gabe to a trailer, opened the door, and Gabe saw Lydia's lifeless body on the couch. He started hyperventilating. Samuel went to the body and closed her eyes.

"Where's Sarah?" Gabe asked. "Is she alright?"

Samuel choked back tears. "Sarah ran away yesterday. Part of me thinks that's a blessing, that she wasn't involved in this. But there was a really bad earthquake yesterday that destroyed the nearest town. I fear that she might have been a casualty in that disaster."

Suddenly, there was an eddy of air. A man that Gabe saw in the vision, the man with the beard, Edgar, was at Lydia's side, holding her hand.

"Look what they've done," Samuel whispered, "the so-called 'normal' people."

Gabe turned to him in rage. "Don't call anyone that! Normalcy's an illusion! You of all people should know!"

"But I do. The sad fact is, no one else does. It's time we changed that, Gabriel. It's time we make people respect us, accept us. This is what you want, is it not? You can be a part of it."

But Gabe had a flashback to his nightmare–Samuel telling him that this was what he wanted. "I fear we have two very different plans of how to achieve that. I will not be part of anything until I know if Sarah is safe. I'm going out to look for her." He walked out before Samuel could stop him.

To be continued . . .