(A/N – I'm glad people liked the last chapter. I was worried I was over-stepping my Teen rating with the torture scene. I'm used to reading things like Stephen King, and I'm a little more than desensitized to things like that. I was afraid of offending someone with that. If anyone has any problem with the amount of description of the scene, I will be more than happy to revise it more. Yes, I said more. I would have gone into a lot more detail if I didn't want to keep my teen rating. With it, I'm restricted by the same rules and regulations that NBC faces..

I was also more than a little afraid that people would completely hate the idea of Gabriel and Sylar's split.

There is a small preview of the next few chapters at the end of this one, kind of a teaser if you will. I hope you enjoy it.)

Mackenzie Wilkes

New York

The man she knew as Gabriel slept hard in the single bed room she could afford. In his sleep, he mumbled names that meant little to nothing to her. Clare, Peter, Michael, and others. Claire was the only she recognized, and Peter sounded familiar, but there were common names. What were the chances Gabriel was talking about he same people

Mackenzie sighed, sitting on the edge of the bathtub, rinsing her face of. Her neck was still frozen and stiff from whatever Gabriel had done to it. Something was now in her blood, she knew that much.

She stood and looked at herself in the mirror. Maybe it wasn't too late to not be alone. Gabriel seemed to know what being alone felt like; he was constantly nervous, jittery, Always eager to avoid people. Maybe she could go with him.

Outside, a car backfired, and she instinctively threw her hands up in protection. Where they lived in Seattle, gunshots were not a common occurrence, but you always prepared for the worst.

She was amazed at what happened. Floating in the air before her was a small blue circle, alive with energy. She dropped her hands, and the circle disappeared. What the hell? Her mind instantly gave her an answer. Gabriel did it.

Bursting from the bathroom, she shook Gabriel awake, near out of her mind. "What did you do to me?" she screamed in his face.

Bleary, Gabriel blinked. "What are you talking about?" He couldn't even tell where he was, let alone what he'd done.

Mackenzie threw her hands up again, bringing that little circle back into existence. "This, you half-dazed moron! What is this?"

He tapped it with one finger, careful. There was no sound, but he couldn't get past it. "It appears to be a force field," he said, and started to drift off again.

Mackenzie left him alone and went out to the pool, to resume her sitting and thinking. It was what she wanted, to have a talent like Will or Teagan, but she wanted it to keep them from fighting, and now both of them were gone. It was a little late. She looked over her shoulder, at her room. Gabriel would have to take her now. She could do something. She was special.

Will Stone

Emil pushed through the back of the civic building. Whatever was trying to get at them was gone, and Will prayed he'd never find out. Emil said they were like dogs turned inside out, constantly on the prowl for fresh meat.

The two of them made their way through the maze of village buildings, for that's what Emil called it. In all the time he was here, he spent as much time as possible exploring the buildings. He found the civic center the best place to sleep, because you could lock yourself in and keep an eye on things that want to get you. He never did explain why he had an eye patch.

"Bogey, ten o'clock," Emil said, pushing Will towards another building. Will looked up and saw a massive shadow in the clouds above them. It looked almost like a human, except for the wings that grew out of either side.

'What the hell is that?"

"Trust me, bro, you don't want to know," Emil said, shoving him inside the building. Will looked up once more before his new friend shut the door. It made his stomach wobble to see it. "Crap, not the chapel," Emil said, walking away.

Will turned around, looking upon another room filled with pews. Set up in twenty or so rows, a path lead straight up them to an altar, where two doors on either side split off in opposite directions. "What's wrong with the chapel?"

"Too open," the one eyed man said. "Anything could break those windows and come right in to get us. This place is un-defendable." He stalked off to the front of the door on the left of the altar. "See if you can find any food over there," he said, motioning towards the other door. Then he was gone.

The sudden quiet unnerved Will, but he made his way through the door Emil had pointed at. He found himself in a small hallway, branching off into several rooms. A small confessional booth sat, dusty and unused, between two doorways. Will, with a new-born curiosity, opened one of the doors. Inside was a tiny room with a bench where a priest would sit and wait to hear the sinners tell all. On the bench, however, was a notebook, with a W carved into front, like the ones tattooed on the guys who sent them there's arm.

Will picked it up and opened it. On the inside cover was the words 'Property of Billy Jamison'. He read through the first few pages, finding out that it was more of a diary or journal for Billy, who was eight and loved soccer and football. He mostly talked about his father, Edgar, and his brother, Ed. Ed, it seemed, had tattoos on his arm; W's like the man who pushed them in. "Ed, huh?" Will said. "Looks like I owe Ed a visit when I get out of here."

He tucked the journal under his arm so he could read it later and closed the confessional door. He made to push open one of the doors next to the big box for sinners, when he heard something inside it, move. Will stopped and stared at the confessional. He reached out for the door, when Emil emerged from the door Will entered. "What's up?" he asked.

"I found some interesting information," Will said, putting the movement out of his mind, telling himself it was just a rat. "The guy who put us here is named Ed Jamison."

One of Emil's eyebrows went up. He seemed to sense something was wrong. "What was that?" he asked. "You just changed a little."

"What do you mean?"

"Your emotions, they changed. I can tell. Don't ever lie to an empath, my friend," Emil said.

So, Emil is an empath, Will thought to himself. "Something in here just moved. I figured it was a rat."

The one-eyed man eyed the box, carefully. "Tell me, Will, my bright and shiny new friend. Have you seen any rats around here? Do you think the dogs would hunt men if there were rats to chase and eat? I don't think so. Watch that door." He put a finger to his lips, and then opened the priests door in the booth.

"What are you…?"

"Shh!" Emil hissed. He carefully slid the small partition that hid the confessor to the priest and peered into the other side. Something slammed into the small partition, and Emil shut backward. The whole booth shook.

The other door flew open and a small woman rushed out, crashing into Will. He quickly wrapped her up, holding her still as she tried to thrash her way out. "It's okay, we're not going to hurt you. Just calm down," Will said, going through variations of it, hammering the message in.

She relaxed in his arms, going limp. "Do what ever you're going to do to me and get it over with," she said, sounding rather defeated. Will surprised her by letting go. He got a good look at her as she stepped back, waiting for Will to lash out at her. She was a thin girl, almost skinny, and had bumblebee stings under her shirt. Despite that, she was older than Will, and possibly Emil. She had stringy black hair that fell over her face. When she pulled it back, Will saw that one of her eyes were black.

"We just want to talk," he said, still trying to calm her down.

"Speak for yourself," Emil said, coming out of the confessional booth. He looked shaken, unscrewed. "I owe you a scare, little girl, a very big one."

"Calm down, Emil," Will said, getting a puzzled look from the one-eyed man. "If we're going to get out of this, we need to be thinking clearly and working together. The more people we have, the better we can act."

"You sure talk like you know a lot," Emil said. "You don't even know who I am. Hell, you don't even know who you are!" His temper rose rapidly, his cheeks turning red, and his nostrils flared. "How do you think she's going to help us out of here? Can she open a portal like that freak Ed, or teleport us back to Kansas, or do you think we need to go see the Wizard? If you do, then you need to look around, because there is no yellow brick road around here, and no wizard, but there are plenty of flying monkeys!" Emil stormed off, leaving Will and the new girl wondering just what set him off.

She leaned down, lifting the fallen notebook and handed it back to him. "You're right, I think, if that makes it any better." She smiled, delicately. "My name is Emily, Emily North."

Will stuck his hand out to shake. "Will Stone. I'd say it's good to meet you, but, well…" He trailed off, and she laughed.

Mackenzie Wilkes

New York

Night was starting to fall, and Gabriel was waking up. She stared at him hard from her seat near the TV. He looked at the ceiling for a while, obviously thinking, and then he shot up. "You produced a force field? You didn't tell me you could do that!"

Mackenzie shook her head. "I wasn't able until you did whatever you did out by the pool. You need to tell me why, and now."

"I don't know," Gabriel said, honestly. "The truth is, I don't even know what I'm capable of, not since Michael."

"Well, until you do know, I'm going with you," she said, effectively trapping him.

He shrugged. "Fine, but at least we know you can keep yourself safe."

Hiro Nakamura

Hart Center, Seattle

He looked over the group of people with a sick feeling in his stomach. They were effectively soldiers now, in a war none of them ever saw coming. They all knew about Blueberry Hill, and all of them wanted to fight. Hiro was now in charge of whether they lived or died.

Matt Parkman stood with his pistol in his holster. He could read the mind of whatever enemy came before them and know what they were going to do before they did it. Kit Frost could something similar, but better yet, he could tell what dangers were head of them by touching the ground. Ashley Tisdale could fight as well as anyone they had before them, using weapons made of her own bones. Bartholomew Ridge could lift a tank and throw it, if only a few feet. Imagine what he could do to a two-hundred pound man. Hector Ortega could send out arcs of electricity. Sakura Miyamoto could blind the enemy with bright lights.

The other two people with them, however, seemed to be only a hindrance. Gavin Stone could manipulate darkness, that at least could be useful for an escape, but it would affect the others as well. And Claire Bennet? She could get hurt and heal, but even now, she knew she had limitations. She still had the indents of the nail clippers between her fingers.

Hiro sighed, deeply. He wished he had more help, and that Heidi would forbid Claire to go. He prepared to start teleporting people to the small concentration camp, outside Tahoe, Nevada, hoping no one dies that night.

Claire Bennet

Hart Center, Seattle

Claire?

Claire, are you there?

The voice filled her head, like when Matt talks to her with his telepathy, but Matt was right there, and the voice didn't sound like him. Claire looked around, waiting to see someone step out from the shadows and grab her, tearing away from her friends, back to the chair where she was held and tortured by Armstrong.

Claire, this is Alphonse, are you there?

Alphonse? She asked herself. The voice did seem familiar, but it didn't seem like the young boy who projected her conscious to the Statue of Liberty could also to do such long distance telepathy.

Yes, the Statue of Liberty. I need to know where you are, Claire. Peter's here, and he's going to come see you.

"Peter?" she whispered.

Gavin looked over at her, confused. "What about Peter?" he asked.

Yes, Peter Petrelli lives, and you need him with you, or he needs you. It doesn't matter. The point is, you need each other, and he's coming to get you.

But I'm leaving here. I'm going to Blueberry Hill, in Nevada. And how is he going to get there?

Don't worry about that, Claire. He'll be there, and he'll bring help for you and Hiro. This is a fight we must win if we want to go on.

(A/N continued –

By the end of the Siege arc, I plan on doing a little purging of my character load. In the next chapter, for example, someone will die

I also plan on revealing the truth behind Emil, bring back a couple of characters from the first season whose stories kind of fizzled out, and delve further into the mysteries of the world Ed 'W' Jamison has been stashing people.

With as much love as an writer can have for his readers, Traumedy101)