This is it. Chapter 4. Claire unleashes her dark side, resulting in a disturbingly high body count. I do not own Heroes – NBC and Tim Kring do.

February 16

I woke up to the sound of Zach's alarm clock. An arm reached over and hit the snooze button. Since sleeping in was not part of the plan, I hit Zach to wake him up.

"Hey!"

"Time to wake up, Zach."

"Mom? What are you – oh, good morning, Claire." He slowly got up.

"I'm going to get dressed," he said.

"OK."

I packed up my bedroll, stuffed my backpack under Zach's bed, and sauntered into the kitchen. It was smaller than the one at our house, but Zach's house was smaller in general. Zach walked in a minute later as I searched the cabinets.

"Do you have any coffee?" I asked.

Zach shook his head. "My parents avoid caffeine like the plague. We can stop by Starbucks on the way to school."

I found a packet of instant oatmeal, which had been my main breakfast fare for the past four months. I filled a pot with water and lit the stove with my fingers. After staring for a moment, Zach poured himself a bowl of cereal. We sat down at a small table to eat.

"Claire, I don't think you should go to the school."

"Why?"

"There's nothing for you there."

I thought about that. To tell the truth, he was probably right. There was no need to 'say goodbye' to a place I had no love for.

"You're right."

"So, how are you going to get to Primatech?"

"I'll take the bus. I saw a bus stop nearby – I'll walk."

I finished my oatmeal, and got up.

"Is this goodbye?" Zach asked.

"No. I might need your help again. But, if I don't contact you within 24 hours, assume that something has gone wrong, and get out of here."

Zach nodded. "Anything you want me to do while you're gone?"

"Delete all those files you downloaded. I have the hard copies we printed in my jacket."

"Gotcha."

I turned to leave, but then I turned back. "Zach…"

"Yes?"

I walked up to Zach, and hugged him.

"Claire, what are you doing?"

"Informing you that I love you."

"You love me?"

"You're the only friend I have, the only person I can trust. I have to love someone, why not you?"

"Good point." I broke the embrace. "Well, I'd better get going."

"Good luck. Oh, and Claire?"

"Yes?"

"I think I love you too."

I considered spending the bus ride thinking about Zach, but I decided to focus on my plans. I studied the layout of Primatech carefully. I summoned every memory I had about the place. And then I recalled every happy moment I had with my mother and brother. By the time the bus pulled up outside, I was ready.

I got out of the bus, and waited for it to pull away. I walked calmly towards the door, stopping about twenty feet away. It was time.

I summoned flames in my hands and pushed through the door. Everyone turned to look at me, more in surprise than in shock. The sight of a blonde teenage girl with a menacing look and flaming hands has got to be confusing. Blonde teenage girls tend to be good, while people with menacing looks and flaming hands tend to be bad. Which one was I?

I gave them their answer. I extended one arm towards a large stack of butcher paper. Flames rippled along my arm before shooting out, incinerating the butcher paper. I then moved through the large room, releasing more fiery blasts. Reams and reams of paper went up in smoke. The fire alarms went off, but another blast took care of the bell.

"Security! Out of the way!" I heard. Before I could turn, a gunshot rang out, and I felt an incredible pain in my chest. I had been shot. Again. I blacked out.

I came to a minute later. I was on the ground, and eight security guards were standing around me. They were shocked when I opened my eyes, coughed out the bullet, and stood up.

Once more, fire lashed out from my hands. I was like a flamethrower, consuming three security guards in fire. They screamed and writhed with pain, but I did not let up. I did use hotter flames on the next set of guards, killing them much more quickly.

I didn't stop. The door that led to the hallway – and ultimately to the basement – was close. I stepped over the burned corpses, and ran into the hallway. The smell of charred flesh followed me, but I ignored it. Instead, I focused on the door that led into the stairwell. It was painted gray, and made of metal. It was also locked, and not with a regular key – there was a card reader below the handle.

I considered trying to find someone who could open the door for me, but judging from the sounds coming from the first room, everyone there was running for their lives. So I decided to try brute force. I focused the flames from my hands onto the keycard reader until it was a melted lump of plastic. I stuck my hand into it – it was thick and hot. It burned a little, but after trying to kill myself repeatedly, I had built up a high pain tolerance. I fiddled around with the locking mechanism, and managed to open the door. I shook off the melted plastic, and raced down the stairs. I barely noticed the burns healing.

As I exited onto the first floor, a tranquilizer dart buried itself in my neck. I pulled it out, and while I felt dizzy for a moment, it passed. I turned my head to see an older man pointing a tranquilizer gun at me. Ironically, there was a pistol in a shoulder holster.

"That should have worked…" he gasped, as my hands became fiery once more. I was about to kill him, when I realized that he might be able to provide answers.

"Drop the gun," I ordered. He complied, and the gun was soon a smoking pool of melted plastic.

"Do you know where the computer database is?"

"If I took you to it, they'd kill me."

"If you don't show me, I'll kill you." I roasted a potted plant to demonstrate.

"Follow me."

We went down two more flights of stairs. He showed me his personal computer.

"All the major files are on the network."

"What's the computer password?"

"No password. We use biometric IDs now." He stared into a retinal scanner attached to the monitor, and an alert box declared "Access granted."

I pushed him aside, and got to work. The network contained data on people with powers, records of operations – and a complete employee directory. After downloading everything to the hard drive, I opened the employee directory. A cursory scan revealed that the company was in fact global, with offices around the world. I opened the folder for the Texas branch, and found my father's file.

Noah Bennet had been employed with the company for 15 years. I noticed that one of his earliest assignments was to 'bag and tag' Meredith Gordon – my mother. That assignment had ended in the accidental death of the target, and my dad had been given responsibility for her daughter – me. The file noted that his employment had been terminated shortly after the fire at our house. He had been detained briefly before escaping. The final note in his dossier read:

11-8-2006: Confirmed dead in destruction of New York.

Curiosity got the better of me. Another folder contained "Persons of Interest". I did a search, and found a file for myself. My regenerative powers were mentioned, but not my pyrokinesis. They'll be updating that later. A bag-and-tag order on me was in effect.

I then searched for my mother and brother. Nothing. I looked in the 'operations' folder, and found what I was looking for. On November 11, 2006, Sandra and Lyle Bennet were captured and interrogated regarding my whereabouts. In order to prevent them from talking, they were 'terminated'. The operation was carried out by George Seawall and Walt Richards.

Returning to the personnel files, I searched for their names. George Seawall was listed as a 'person of interest' – he had powers. Walt Richards had no powers, but my heart stopped when I saw his picture.

He was standing right behind me.

I turned around, and glared at him. He looked terrified.

"Please don't burn me," he squeaked.

"I was going to, except you just handed me the key to destroying this company." I retrieved the hard drive as I spoke.

"You're going to let me live?"

I took his pistol from his shoulder holster.

"Of course not."

I shot him in the head. As I got up, I noticed a set of keys that had fallen out of his pocket. The key read 'Yamaha'. I glanced to the side, and saw a motorcycle helmet sitting beside the desk.

I wouldn't be taking the bus back to Zach's after all. I pocketed the keys.

Before I left, I emptied the gun into the computer screen. Then I set fire to the room. I marched up the staircase, feeling rather smug. I had gotten what I came for.

Little did I know, I was walking into a nightmare.

I found myself on the main factory floor. The room was filled with wood, pulp, paper, and all the machines needed to transform the former into the latter. It was noisy. Sawdust filled the air. And sitting against one of the machines… was my dad.

Instantly, I was back in Kirby Plaza. I saw Peter glowing brighter. All the emotions of that moment came back to me. Then Peter exploded, and everything went white… to be replaced by Brody Mitchum kissing me. Then holding me down and trying to rape me. Every moment felt like an eternity.

Then I saw Jackie being killed by Sylar. And my mother collapsed on the floor of the kitchen. And then I saw all the images combined. I was simultaneously pointing a gun at Peter, being raped by Brody Mitchum, watching Sylar slice off Jackie's skull, AND kneeling over my unconscious mother, all at the same time. It was too much to bear. I fell to the ground, sobbing.

I heard the sounds of people running on the floor. The guards had come. I shut out the memories, and looked around. Maybe twenty guards were standing at the ready, pointing guns at me.

I let loose with fire once more. But this time, the whole room seemed to catch fire. The sawdust in the air caught fire, making it seem like the air itself was burning. The guards screamed as the flames consumed them. I walked through the flaming room, coming face to face with George Seawall. He was cowering underneath a metal table.

"Stay out of my memories," I told him. Then I torched him. I had found the people who had killed my family, and I had taken revenge.

I walked out of the building into the parking lot. After a few tries, I found Richards' motorcycle. I hopped on, and drove away.

I stopped by a public payphone on the way back to Zach's house and called him.

"Hello?"

"Zach? It's Claire."

"Claire! Are you OK?"

"Of course. I have a hard drive right here. It's protected by a retinal scanner, though. Can you crack that?"

"Yeah. Meet you at my place."

I parked the motorcycle in the bushes. Zach met me at the back door. He stared at me.

"What's wrong, Zach?"

"It's just… I was watching the news. They have dozens of reporters there."

"Let me see."

He led me into the living room, where the local news was showing pictures of a burned-out Primatech. A reporter was gesticulating as she rehashed facts:

"We've been able to confirm that the attacker was a young woman, and that she had pyrokinesis – the ability to create fire. The current death toll is at thirty…"

I turned to Zach. "So, I guess people know about special abilities now?"

"You didn't see Nathan Petrelli's speech?"

"No."

Zach opened his laptop, and went to YouTube. He brought up a video of Nathan addressing a press conference in Staten Island.

"In the past few months, people have emerged around the globe with what can only be called 'special abilities'. One of these people was my brother, Peter. Peter could absorb the abilities of those around him. He absorbed many abilities – including, unfortunately, the radioactive powers of a man named Ted Sprague. New York was destroyed when Peter lost control of his powers."

"Now, some might call for those who have special abilities to be rounded up, to prevent the tragedy in New York from happening again. But I don't think that that is what Peter would have wanted. He would have wanted us to embrace this new world."

Nathan glanced at his watch. "I'm afraid I have to leave now. I'm supposed to be at the White House in two minutes to brief the President." With that, Nathan shot into the air, and took off.

I stared at the screen for a moment.

"You want me to crack that hard drive?" Zach asked.

"Sure." I handed it to him. I followed him up to his room, and watched as he did his thing. Five minutes later, we had total access.

"Claire, are you planning on taking all these files with you?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Well, there are over 400 personnel files in here. That's going to be a lot of paper."

I hadn't thought of that. But Zach had a solution.

"Here, I'll put them on a flash drive."

As he copied the files over, I perused them. The Company had agents around the world. I focused on those agents in the United States, and mentally tracked where they lived. Excluding the now-dead agents in Odessa and New York, a lot of people lived in and around Boulder, Colorado and Atlanta, Georgia. The files didn't contain the location of their offices, but I figured that I could get the information another way.

"You think I can evade your parents for one more night?"

"Probably."

"Then I'll stay here tonight, and leave tomorrow."

"Where will you go?"

"Atlanta. I've had enough of cold weather, so I'll handle Colorado in the spring."

It was rather arbitrary, but I had nothing else to go on.

"Sounds like a plan."

Well, what do you think? Claire has officially declared her love for Zach, while the Company is down thirty men plus a major facility. And now she has two more targets.

Anyone who gives me a story idea that I like will be credited at the end of Chapter 5!