Chapter 3:

Silence of the night whispered across a shovel digging into the earth somewhere nearby. A wind carried sadness as warm tears touch the dirt below them. The light of the full moon dared not come closer to the shadows in the woods.

Hands bound behind her back by masking tape, Bailey Winters looked at the man, who continued to dig a hole in the ground. Tears ran down her face as she tried to speak through the masking tape across her mouth. Lying against the cold ground, her eyes moved up toward the moon and then back to the man, who now stared at her.

Trying to scream through her gag, Bailey was helpless as the man picked her up like a doll. She tried to kick him, but he continued to carry her toward the hole. She grabbed hold of the back of his shirt as he was about to throw her down into the earth.

Waking up in a pool of sweat, Bailey looked at Matt Parkman, who again sat beside her bed. She saw the look of concern on his face as she wiped the sweat off her forehead. She winced when Matt reached over to push away a strand of hair from her face.

"You want to talk about it?"

"No." The concern remained on his face. "It's nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Matt? Can I have a word?"

Looking over his shoulder, Matt saw FBI Agent Audrey Hanson stand in the doorway. She held a medical folder in her hands. A look of concern etched across her face as well.

"Sure." Matt stood up from the chair. "I'll be right back."

"I don't know why. You caught me. Go after the others now." Matt stared at her in response before leaving the room.

Walking out into the hallway, Matt watched Audrey close the door to Bailey's room. He glanced at the two guards posted nearby. Walking a little away from them, he turned to look at Audrey.

"Everything alright, Matt?"

"Yeah. She… She had a nightmare, a bad."

"Well, I got the results back from the lab."

"And?"

"And she is dying."

"Is there anything that the doctors can do for her?"

"Honestly, they never saw anything like this before. Her whole body chemistry is different from ours."

"How long does she have?"

"Less than a year."

"That other doctor gave her about a month to live, but she's still here."

"Yeah, I was wondering about that."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, for starters, that robber shot her in the stomach, and when you tried to shoot her, the bullet didn't even pierce her. Then, she was given a month to live, and then that went up to almost a year."

"So?"

"So, I don't know."

"You think it's because she killed those people back at the Loft? She somehow transferred their energy, their electric current into her?"

"I don't know, Matt, but this whole thing really bothers me."

"This whole thing, or her and everyone like her?" Audrey looked away. "I see."

"Look, you've been here since you brought her in. Why don't you go home to your wife, Janice? Bailey will still be here tomorrow. I'll make sure of it."

"What if Sylar comes for her?"

"Well, maybe Bailey can stop him. Go home, Parkman. You look beat." She walked away from him. "And you're getting too close to her." Freezing in her steps, Audrey turned to look at him.

"I'm going, I'm going." Matt pretended not to have caught that last thought. "See you tomorrow." He paused outside Bailey's room for a moment but then walked away.

"Help me! Someone help me! Please! Please help me!"

A motorcyclist heard Bailey's screams and slammed on the brakes. Taking his helmet off, he tried to pinpoint the direction of her screams. All he saw were dark trees until a young woman, dirty and bloody, ran out into the highway with her hands bound behind her back with masking tape. "Oh my God," and he ran toward her, quickly unbinding her hands. "Who did this to you?"

"This man… I think he's dead." The motorcyclist looked at her. "I think he's dead."

"Okay. Okay, calm down. Just calm down." He took out his cell phone, but there was no service. "Damn it!" He glanced at her when he noticed a car coming in the opposite direction. "Wait here." Bailey nodded as she fell down on the ground. "Wait here."

The young man tried to flag down the car, but it didn't stop. Instead, it swerved around him and continued down the highway. The young man stepped back as he watched the car disappear from sight. As he stepped back, he was struck by another car, and his body flipped up into the air and over the car. He landed hard on cold pavement, trying to breathe, and blood gently flowed out across the highway.

Stumbling out of his car, a man cursed out loud about the idiot standing in the middle of the road. He wrung his hands together when his eyes fell on Bailey. He froze, backing away, and he started to get back into his car when a pain raced through his chest. He stumbled back again, spinning around now, and staring at Bailey, who stared at him intently. He was about to say something, anything when he now fell forward. He hit the pavement, dead.

Bailey ran over to the motorcyclist. She placed her hands on his chest. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her hands glowed white. A moment passed, and then she realized that the motorcyclist was breathing and now staring up into her eyes. He was healed.

"What did you do to me?"

"I saved you."

"Why?' He looked over at the man in the road. "Did you kill him?"

"Yes." Bailey backed away from him. "I had to."

"To save me?" She nodded.

"Can you give me a ride back into town?" Now, he nodded. "Please, don't tell anyone about this. Please."

"I don't know. We can't just leave him in the road." His heart broke at the look of despair on Bailey's face. "I'll come back for him. I'll call the police and tell them something." He held her gaze. "Something not someone."

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me." He walked away from her and toward his motorcycle.

Opening her eyes, Bailey stared out the window of the hospital. She watched kids play in the playground nearby. Sighing, she turned away and pushed her head further into the pillow.

The ride back to town was uncomfortable, silent. Tension wound tight like Bailey wrapping her arms around the motorcyclist, who shivered at her touch. No more cars were seen on their way back to town, no more witnesses.

Once in town, the motorcyclist helped Bailey off his bike. Without a look back, he took off down the road. A moment later, he pulled and just sat there, sat there in darkness and that about everything that had just happened.

His cell phone beeped. Pulling it out of his jacket pocket, he saw the phone now had service. He slowly dialed 9-1-1.

"Hey." Bailey looked at Matt. "I heard you're not eating."

"I'm not hungry."

"Still feeling sick?"

"A little bit." She turned away from him and looked back out the window.

"I also heard that you haven't made an attempt to get out of bed."

"I don't want to. Besides, I'm under arrest, aren't I?"

"Bailey…"

"What? What do you want from me, Matt? What?"

"Bailey." He sat down on her bed. "You're not the monster in this."

"I am a monster, and I should be locked up."

"You're not."

"No? Tell that to the people that I killed." She looked at him.

"Some. Some were bad people, weren't they?"

"Some. Not all."

"What are you talking about, Bailey?" She just stared at him. "Did you kill other people?"

The warmth from his skin was welcoming, and Bailey dug her fingers down into his shirt. She felt him stumble as he tried to throw her down into the hole. She continued to hold on, enjoying the life that she felt from this man. He stumbled again, now falling into the hole that he had dug for her, and Bailey fell backward toward the ground.

Using her knees, she worked at the masking tape around her mouth. It finally started to give way. She used her knees again to pull it off her mouth. She took in a few breaths, enjoying the taste of air in her mouth. Then, she screamed. She looked down into the hole, meeting the dead man's gaze, and she laughed. She laughed, enjoying the look of fear on his face.

Standing over the hole, Matt and Audrey now stared down at this man. They turned around to see other FBI agents and the police scour the woods. Exchanging looks, they walked away from the grave, allowing the Coroner's Office to move the body.

Approaching another FBI agent, Audrey asked, "How many bodies have been found so far?"

"Five. All young women about Bailey's age."

"Bailey would've been six."

"He picked the wrong girl, Matt."

"Same MO on all of them."

"Which is what?" Matt looked at Audrey and then at the other agent. "What?"

"They were all beaten and raped, and then he buried them alive."

Biting his lip, Matt turned back toward the grave. His hands clenched into fists. He shook his head as Audrey thanked the agent for the information.

"You're too close to her, Matt."

"This doesn't bother you?"

"It does, and thanks to her, we have one less serial killer to worry about."

"It's not right. It's not right, Audrey."

"What? What's not right?"

"What's happened to her, and now, we're treating her like the criminal."

"She killed people, Matt. We can't overlook that." Now, she shook her head. "But she isn't a monster."

"She thinks she is."

"We'll find a way to help her, Matt."

"What if we can't? What if she dies?"

Lying in the hospital bed, Bailey looked out the window again. More kids played outside in the playground. She continued to watch them.

"Is this my thank you for not letting you die?" She cringed, recognizing HRG's voice.

"I failed, so maybe."

"You didn't fail. You scared Nathan Petrelli, which was enough. For now anyway." He now stood beside her bed. "Come on. You're not going to waste away here. You're too valuable."

"You think so?"

"I know so."

"And then what?" She finally looked at him.

"Then, we find Sylar before anyone else does. You're a hero, Bailey not a monster."