Chapter 14: 1961, Part One

"This is just wrong," Peter said, lifting a child's baseball glove from the grave and holding it up to the morning sunshine. "Digging up these graves. Why is she making us do this?"

Nathan, handling his shovel in a grave some ways off said, "Mom has her reasons Pete, she'll share when she's ready. Give her time"

"Oh yeah? Even about him?" Peter shot back, pointing at Sylar.

Sylar's night had been far more productive and much less dirty. His trench revealed that the individual graves dug by Claire, Nathan, Noah and Peter were part of a mass grave. His efforts and theirs had exposed dozens of bodies lain shoulder to shoulder, still clad in the rotten tatters of the clothes they had died in. In this place a trench had been dug and people had been buried, then left with nothing to mark their passing. It was eerily reminiscent of the Holocaust and a shudder ran through Peter's body.

Sylar climbed down into his trench to take a better look, stepping carefully to avoid the skeletons. A broken gold watch lay atop a thin wrist bone, and he bent down to pick it up. It was a woman's Bulova, with a golden chain and rosewood face, dating from the 1950s. It had long since wound down and when he wound it he found that it was badly off, gaining a second each minute. He paused for a moment to enjoy the simple pleasure of having a watch in his hand before he opened his mind to its memories.

May 1961

There were gunshots, and a many people were running and screaming. A black haired woman with a Bulova watch on her wrist was pulling a small boy along behind her. The man next to her screamed and fell as a bullet caught him in the back, and the woman shrieked and pulled to her left. Suddenly she fell as the boy she was dragging became dead weight, and looked back to see a growing pool of blood under his crumpled form.

As she looked down at her dead son her eyes lit and then became balls of fire, flames curling up from them to burn the ends of her hair. She turned to see a soldier advancing on her, the barrel of his rifle still smoking. A stream of fire arced out from her eyes to the soldier, causing him to erupt into flames and run screaming in circles. She smiled and looked for the next soldier when a bullet slammed into her chest. She looked down and touched the blood before she was hit again, then fell.

"This woman had abilities! Did all of them?" Sylar tucked the watch into his pocket., then climbed out of the grave and strode towards Angela. Claire jumped out of the grave she had been excavating and blocked his path to her grandmother, warding him off. Sylar looked at Claire patronizingly, allowing himself to give her one telekinetic shove to remind her how feeble a defence she provided. Angela's eyes were red and worn, and she looked older than Peter had ever seen her.

"What are we doing here Mom?" Peter walked to stand at his mother's shoulder and look down into her weary face. "You said we came here to find your sister. We didn't know you had a sister. Look, we need some answers. Mom, what happened out here?"

"My sister, my parents, they all died here. If we don't come together, if we don't settle our differences, I'm afraid history is going to repeat itself." She took a deep breath and looked around again at the buildings, then shook herself. She straightened her bun and a little of her sharpness reasserted itself. "Let's go inside."

They followed Angela into one of the derelict buildings. Angela walked to a window and stared up at the sky, her back to them.

"1961 was a different time. Kennedy was President, we were all patriots. When the government found out about us, they rounded us up and brought us here. Me, my parents, my sister, and my brother."

She turned back toward the group, her eyes lingering on each of their faces. "Angela, Alice, and Samson Gray."

Sylar leaped away from the wall he had been lounging on toward Angela, and grabbed her by her shoulders before anyone could intervene.

"Say that again! Say it clearly so I can tell if you're lying!"

"Your father was my brother. You are my nephew."

Sylar waited for his ability to tell him Angela was lying. When the tingle didn't come, when he knew it was true, he reeled away from her.

"Oh my God, it's true isn't it," Claire breathed. Peter, Nathan and Noah looked sharply at her, but her eyes were on Sylar.

Sylar stumbled backwards until he reached the wall, then slid down against it. He closed his eyes and slammed the back of his head against the rough wood, then again and again. Finally he dropped his head back against the wall limply and started laughing, the sound a confusing medley of anger, hope and hysteria.

"Guess I'm back in the family."

"What the hell is this, Mom?" Peter exploded, "Why now, why not just tell him the truth back at Primatech?"

"I have never wanted you to know about my brother, and I have not spoken of him for almost 20 years." She turned to Sylar who was still sitting against the wall with his knees up. "I almost told you that night at Primatech, do you remember?"

"Yes, and as I recall you were interrupted by a cheerleader driving a six inch shard of glass into the back of my head."

"Well deserved, I might add," Claire shot back.

Sylar's eye twitched, and he pulled himself up. "Tell us the rest, Angela. What happened out here?" His need for answers brought the dark growl of the Hunger into his voice, causing Angela's sons to step between them protectively. She was unperturbed, and turned back out the window and began to speak.

February 1961

As Angela and Alice began settling into their new beds in the girls' cabin, they heard a tap at the door. Angela looked up to see her brother flanked by three young men. There was a weaselly looking boy with platinum blonde hair, as well as a nondescript boy with thick glasses. Angela's attention was immediately fixed on the extraordinarily handsome black boy standing beside Samson.

"Hi girls, these are the guys in my cabin." Samson said jauntily, waving grandly at his new friends.

The good looking boy walked past him, his eyes on Angela. "I see you got the milk and cookies. We wanted to give you the official welcome."

"Welcome to Crapola Sands" The blonde boy spoke with an English accent and a dramatic lift to his voice.

"This is Charles Deveaux, the guy with the funny accent is Daniel Lindermann, and the guy with the glasses is Bobby Bishop." Samson gestured to each in turn before wandering over to plop himself down on the bed beside Alice. She giggled and Samson tweaked her nose, then looked up to be met by his younger sister's disapproving eyes.

"Samson, you know that boys are not allowed in the girls' dorm!"

"Well yeah, but Charles over here wanted to tell you how beautiful you were." Samson chortled along with Bobby and Daniel. "I had to get him over here so he could get a better look, obviously his eyes were deceiving him."

Charles was not embarrassed by this and he kept his eyes locked with hers. "What, you don't think she's beautiful?" Angela broke his gaze and looked around the room desperately, her cheeks a bright red. She had never been called beautiful by a boy before.

"We just wanted to say hi," Charles continued, then tipped his head toward the door. Samson stood and followed the other boys outside, there was no doubt about who was already the leader of this little pack. Charles followed them, looking over his shoulder at Angela all the way out the door.

Angela turned around and walked towards their beds, her colour still high and a smile on her lips. Alice had saddened upon watching her big brother leave the room, and her brow drew forward petulantly.

"I don't like this. Our whole family separated like this? How come we can't all stay with Mom and Dad?"

"We already talked about this. It's gonna be fun, just like camp!" Angela was not sure who she was trying to convince, but her attempt clearly failed with Alice.

"Come on!" she continued with false brightness. "Let's get you unpacked."

"What happened here?" Claire spoke softly into the quiet the story left.

Angela shook her head, turning back from the window for the first time since she had begun to speak. "I don't know. Samson and I were lucky, we survived. But Alice, our entire family...didn't."

"I know what happened. They were all shot to death, then buried in that hole out there." Sylar also spoke quietly, his air of deadly menace eroded by the impact of her tale. Family, he thought, I have family. He didn't know what to do with this knowledge, but the words kept spinning through his mind.

"But that leaves more questions, Mom. Why did we have to come here to learn this? Why are we digging up these bodies?" Peter was not willing to soften his tone. He was so tired of his mother's lies, the unending web of deceit.

"I've been dreaming about my sister." Angela, turned all this time toward the window, finally turned to fix Peter with her eyes. "Alive. That doesn't make sense, but my dreams often don't, they're open to interpretation. They - they're confusing, but I think I have to see her for myself. I have to find her body, find a piece of her clothing, something, anything to give her a proper burial."

"So why him?" Nathan gestured at Sylar You've kept him – and us - in the dark about this our whole lives, why suddenly drag us out here?"

"I have dreamed of more than Alice. My dreams show me darkness and death, and as always Sylar is in the centre of them. In my dreams, if I didn't bring him here, if I didn't tell all of you the truth, the tragedy of this place would be repeated."

Sylar thought of his plans to use Danko and the American taxpayer to build death camps like Coyote Sands all over the country. In one stroke he would gain all the abilities he wanted and then exterminate his competition. The plan he'd crafted on that long drive from his father's house to D.C. made less sense now. He reached into his pocket to touch the watch in his pocket, seeing again a dead mother who'd died trying to avenge her murdered son. Much less sense.

"You should have told us about this place, that you had a sister and a brother. That Sylar is our cousin" Peter stalked around the room, his indignation making it impossible for him to stand still. Family meant everything to Peter, and his mother kept jerking him around with it like a dog on a chain.

"I didn't want you to know the pain! A mother is allowed to do that, I'm allowed to protect you!"

Nathan walked towards his mothers, making soothing gestures. "You're absolutely allowed to do that, Ma."

Angela's eyes remained locked on her youngest son who continued to pace around, shaking his head in irritation. "It's my nightmare Peter, I never wanted you to know what I suffered. I tried to forget. We made everyone forget."

"Who is we?" Claire asked.

"How do you think the Company was formed? It started here, with a vow to never let this happen again. We destroyed files, erased memories, anything to keep our existence secret. And it worked, for almost fifty years."

Noah stepped out of the shadows for the first time since Angela had begun speaking, walking to stand shoulder to shoulder with his daughter.

"Noah and I," Angela nodded at him, and he returned it with his enigmatic smile, "have tried to fix this current situation situation but Mr. Danko has proved resourceful.

"So that's what you were trying to do," Claire said, glancing sidelong up at her father.

"Yes."

"But you blew it," Sylar cut in, and Noah cast him a deadly look. "Danko is more resourceful than you think. He was working with me in D.C. to create a Coyote Sands in every state. Your tax payers dollars at work."

"That reminds me, why in the world would you be helping Danko?" Noah rounded on Sylar, hand drifting inside his coat.

"That's why it is so important to put our secret back, so we can all stop running and return to our lives." Angela interrupted impatiently. "It's time to go back to the old methods."

"You mean erasing people's memories and killing people," Claire said baldly.

"It's a necessary evil."

"I'm sorry about what happened here," Peter broke in, patience expended. "But it doesn't give you the right to do the things that you've done, and it still doesn't."

"We need you, Peter. I need you," Angela looked at her youngest son over the shoulders of her oldest, her eyes desperate.

"That Company tore this family apart."

Peter looked at Sylar, remembering when they'd been brothers. How much would be different if Angela had told the truth then? Peter was not the only one whose need for family was abused by Angela to serve her own purposes, and he knew it.

"I'm not going to be a part of it." Peter walked up to Nathan to take his ability, then out the door and into the sky.

"Peter!" His mother called after him.

"I'll get him," Nathan said, then zipped up his jacket and followed Peter into the blue.