Chapter 2

I don't own any of the characters. If I did, most likely I wouldn't be writing fanfictions.

Present Day

It had been only a few days since Denise and the others had returned from who knows where, but it had seemed like ages in this prison of mauve concrete. She had heard from police reports that people where scared, but she didn't understand why. They had come back. Sure, it had been a few years, but they were back, and they were happy, and families could be put back together.

She slumped into her cot, staring at the ceiling again. The free 70's spirit in her wanted to see the sky, the trees, anything remotely natural. People where already talking about resistance, and abilities, and she was just scared. Quarantine scared her. It was like a bad story you used to scare small children at night.

She wondered what her parents had been doing all these years. Her little sister. Mike, the boy she had pined for all those years ago. What did they think when she went missing thirty some years ago. Oh, god, what about Juliart? Would they take her in after all these years. Her fingers could still play, could still play those notes she so longed to hear.

A little girl walked up to her, a little blonde haired girl with a quiet expression on her face and bright blue eyes.

"My names Maia. What's yours?" she asked, looking down at the out of date hippie.

"Oh me, I'm Denise," she didn't know if she wanted to talk right now, with all that was going on, but the girl seemed nice.

"You'll play again," Maia smiled at her disbelief, "And you don't have to worry about your family. I have to worry about mine. They're all dead. You have to worry about someone else." Little Maia smiled and sat down on the cot next to a bewildered Denise.

"How do you know about me?" Denise asked.

"Your fingers, they're moving. I used to play on my mothers piano once, with the little keys, but she's dead, and I've got nowhere to go," Maia said matter-o-factly.

"I'm sure you could go home with me," As soon as she said this, Denise realized how absurd it was. She couldn't support a kid, much less Maia, and she couldn't just take her.

"Its okay, someone will take me," Maia got up, "I have to go. That man over there is going to need a tissue." And with that she walked away.

Denise went back to lying in wait for the guards to finally tell them that they were being let go, being released from quarantine.

Maximum Security Prison

"Daniels," the guard read out from his clipboard, looking down at the rows of uniformed prisoners at the forty-something man with graying hair and dead eyes. Benjamin Daniels nodded his head without much gusto, and the guard continued the roll. He was being moved to a lighter facility, because of good behavior. Life without parole seemed to have perks after all.

The skinny Mexican next to him had kept staring at him the whole movement over here, and every time Daniels looked at him, he quickly adjusted so that he wasn't directing his gaze anywhere near him.

"Hey," the Mexican said with a soft voice, "You that guy who killed all those girls on like April Fools Day?"

"I'm innocent, you little funny man," he growled back, aware that the guard had turned his attention elsewhere.

"Yeah, yeah, aren't we all," he gave him a good look over, "James Garcia. You want to get out of here anytime soon."

"Would like and will are two completely different things," he growled back, the guard still occupied with a Tyler Milton at the other end.

"I can make it happen friend, and you don't have to do anything," he started.

"Garcia?" the guard called.