Chapter 5: Karma pursuit

Karma, Fate, God. No matter what you do you can't hide from it. But this doesn't mean that us, humans don't try to avoid it. Everyone has someone to face or avoid. Living with evil, long forgotten memories, dealing with present lies or facing the dangerous future. It all requires great strength, bravery, wisdom. And the help of this unknown might. The question is, that if you try to run away, what will find you? Because something will.

Claude's life became a lot easier after he left Peter Petrelli alone. And, in fact, it seems, his work had paid off. It has been almost six months since they've gone on separate ways, New York didn't seem to blow up and he had a safe life again. He knew it would be too dangerous to him if he went back to the Deveaux building so he moved to another site. And he really couldn't give up with the pigeons. He might have lost the ones from the rooftop but with a little care and attention others have appeared at 59 Dumont Avenue.

He was feeding them every day, almost at the same moment. This was all left for him. After disappointing and disenchanting out of humanity, only the pigeons were left. He thought, they knew even more what attention and caring means. Some days, he was there for even more than an hour, just standing and looking at them. Like this day.

And suddenly, something pierced his neck with just a small amount of pain. He pulled it out as fast as he could but he felt it slow. He looked at it and he had seen it just before he collapsed. It was one of the needles used by the Company.

He didn't know how could he fail. He has never experienced something like this. Stopped by his own soul, it sounded ridiculous. Instead, he wanted even more powers. He had to become stronger. To become an overman. But he collapsed. He failed and he let Claire walk away again, alive and without any harm. He thought about what could have happened. She must be miles away from him, on the run again, hiding again. He stepped up and looked at the corpse of the man he murdered. Sylar knew he was nothing. Just an ordinary man, brandishing a gun, one who thought he might be able to kill the most powerful, the most unique evolved one. He failed too. That's the rule of evolution.

He walked out, thinking and thinking. Something came to his mind. If Claire and her ability was real, the flying man might also be. It had an awfully small chance to be simply considered as a coincidence. And if it wasn't the flying man might be here. Maybe Claire didn't have enough time to warn him. He thought about the article. What was the girl's name? Debbie Marshall. She may know things, answers to questions she would never be able to really believe.

After a very long night, just forcing the avoidance of a terrible murder, Matt Parkman had even another task to do. He must spoke with Sabine Dailly personally. He arrived just in time, met her before she was leaving.

"Where are you going, Miss Dailly?" he asked. He showed his license.

"What do you think? To work, what else. Have to live. And, if you haven't noticed, I haven't got any heavy bags, so I'm not going to run away."

"As I told you, Miss Dailly, you are not a suspect. We already have one."

She looked at him and silently said "Nolan."

Matt nodded.

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"Me and my partner met him at a would-be victim's flat. But he managed to get away. So, I need your help."

"About what?"

"First, I want to know if there was a place were he can be easily found."

"Well" she started thinking "when he began doing this he said he was at Mercury's. But that was more than a year ago. And in fact, I wouldn't encourage you to go there. It's a night club and a pub with lots of nasty and evil people. Criminals. Villains."

"I could take care of myself." He was doing that in this moment, too. He was reading her mind and he knew she was telling the truth.

"And one more, Miss Dailly. In the last few months or when you saw him last, did you experienced or did he mention something not normal? Something extraordinary?"

She gave a small but bitter laugh. "I those times, he spent more time out than home. He worked at night, came home and met me when I was going to work, just like you did and when I got back he was gone again. I think he just fell into bed, slept for a while and then simply went away without a word. I always had to clean up his room. It was full of rubbish."

"What rubbish?"

"You know, comics torn apart. That was his hobby a long time ago. And lots of dust and lots of spider webs."

And that was the keyword to Matt. The realization of his ability began and she knew nothing about it.

"Well, madame, if he didn't say a word to you, I'm sorry to say that but you've made the right decision." He took a deep breath. "Just like I did."

For a moment she grabbed his hand softly but then she left to live her life. To do her job. Just like Matt had to.

Mohinder picked up his cell phone with a bit of anger. This research needed a lot of attention from him and he didn't want to be disturbed long. But someone called him ten times this morning, so it should have been quite important.

"Mohinder?" asked someone on the other end.

"Nirand?" Mohinder recognized the voice. "What's the matter? I've been busy. And I still am."

"Leave it." his voice turned bitter. "Mohinder, your mother... she's dead."

Naturally, he couldn't stay standing.

"What? How?"

"Peacefully. She went to sleep and never woke up. Her heart stopped."

Mohinder couldn't take it any more.

"I'm going back to Madras immediately." he said as tears started appearing in his eyes.

Peter was walking slowly, still invisible, following his mother to her office. Just when she sat down and started thinking, he began to read her mind. He wanted to hear her thoughts, now and without any lies. One of Olivia's sentences was in her head.

"It seems it's the time for ridiculous things. What did she mean with that? If Olivia realizes our secrets, God doesn't even know what would happen."

Suddenly, the sound of her thoughts turned almost completely silent. Peter tried harder. He wanted to know what she was thinking about. He could hear it again, but it sounded like a disturbed or weak radio signal.

"This cannot be a coincidence... Arthur will understand... we have to... others... help of Bob... Daniel"

Her face suddenly fell down as she lost her consciousness and this shocked Peter. He leaned down to her, noticed her breath and he turned her face so he could look in it. Blood was leaking from her nose and her eyes were also very bloody like she didn't sleep a moment.

"What are you doing to us?" she said with a sound like she was dieing. As Peter looked in her eyes he couldn't really decide if she was asking this from him or from someone non-existing.

Monica was thinking about the whole white guy from Vegas thing all day long. She had to believe Micah, that there really wasn't a street with this name but she couldn't deal with the idea, just let someone dangerous, someone whose purposes aren't really making sense and can also make risky moves to reach these mad goals, to go.

In the afternoon, she told all this to Micah.

"I think I'll go to the police and ask them about this." she said. She tried to be optimistic.

"He might have also given a false identity." he answered.

"This is the police. They can't be fooled like the gang members down the street."

"And will they tell you anything about him?" Skepticism was all over in his voice.

"I'm just trying to get my life." she said with a huge sigh. "I don't want to be a laboratory rat or something like that. I just want to gain control of it."

"The only way for that is losing it." he said sadly.

"How can you say that?" she asked.

"I've lost my life already, Monica! And if you don't want to do that, you'll forget all this stuff."

"And let myself to be beaten up well?"

Now, he sighed.

"The only thing that I know, that it's not like on TV. Using these have rarely caused anything good." As he remembered, tears appeared in his eyes. "Three months ago I wished we were Fantastic Three. And now I'm the only one left of it."

Nicholas was so terrified that he simply wasn't able to enter the Bennet house. He didn't hear Sylar's screams any more but he didn't know why silence had fallen. Was it fleeing or just another move of the silent predator? So he felt he had nothing to do here and he definitely didn't want to stay there, just a few meters away from a crime scene. From the scene of a man's murder. Someone's who he knew and sometimes he liked. He ran away as fast as he could, like hellfire would be on his heels. His hands, his whole body was shaking so it wasn't a wonder that he fell several times. He didn't know how many miles he had run before he had the courage to just slow down. He felt like death was breathing inches away from his ears. But his job hadn't been finished yet. He knew Sylar could pass on at any moment and if the Company realizes the size of the danger they might send someone tougher. And maybe get him out of harm's way.

So he stepped to a pay phone and called an emergency number, at Primatech Paper in Texas. A woman picked up the phone, who introduced herself as Ann Willis.

"Agent Nicholas Senna here. Emergency."

"Senna?" she interrupted. "Where's agent DeFargau. Shouldn't he keep contact with the Company?"

"Our assignment didn't work out as we thought." said he with fear in his voice. "DeFargau's dead."

"Stay where you are. For just two minutes." she said.

"Hey, wait..." he began there was no one on the other end.

He didn't know how he managed to hold out there, with all of his body shaking, constantly looking for danger and wishing he could disappear. But the phone rang like she said.

"Stay where you are." she ordered. "In Costa Verde. You have a new, single assignment. Looking for a blond girl, about 5 feet eight. Her name is Elle Bishop. And be careful with her, she has an electric ability." And silence again.

Nicholas was so shocked about the orders that he couldn't interrupt Ann. But when he could really deal with his work, something in his mind and his heart said "No". Not without DeFargau. Or someone like him. No, he won't stay here for even a moment. This place is really becoming a slaughterhouse.

All three members of the Bennet family felt themselves freed up when the door of the small van finally opened. Sandra and Lyle slept during most of the time of the journey but Claire couldn't, except for a few minutes, she thought. Her theory was that her body simply neutralized the chemicals in the injection. But this just made her journey even worse. There was almost no light in the van and after some time she started to feel claustrophobic. So, for her, it was even more than just opening a door.

Not until he saw the man standing in front of them. A familiar man but someone she didn't want to remember.

"Who the hell are you? And where are we?" asked Lyle.

"Does it matter?" answered the Haitian and laid his fingers on his forehead. Claire started running towards him like a bullet shot out of a gun but someone behind her back grabbed her. She was yelling and trying to get free but there was no use. The Haitian slowly erased the memory of her brother and her mother. After that, he stepped in front of her.

"Why are you doing this to us?" she asked desperately.

"For your own good."

"Shouldn't we decide that?" But there was no answer to that. Everything just turned black around her.

Elle was totally shocked from what she saw. She found the Bennet house quite easily, she just needed a few questions. But the scene was completely different from what she had expected. Almost no drop of blood. It was not like Sylar was here. She only saw one corpse but the top of the head of it wasn't even touched. And she also found a company gun, simply ripped apart. She suspected no fingerprints on it so she left it on the floor. Looking around, she couldn't understand one thing. How could her father leave her in the background with this much danger in front of them? He knew this all along and he knew she was desperate to capture the serial killer. She wanted to hunt him down herself. But, thanks to her father, he managed to get away again. She felt pain and bitterness. She felt like she was trapped. Trapped, being wasted, not valued enough. But she wanted to show how valuable she is. She will show her strength to everybody. She had only one chance. She was given an assignment, and she will fulfill it. But not for the company. On her own. Without any help and she will be the one benefiting from it. She had to turn back. She wanted to go to Byron Bevington.

Niki was recovering surprisingly quickly. After three days, she could get up from her so-called bed. In fact, it was just a plank covered with some slightly damaged textile. But now, she could also meet the people who saved her and this filled her with happiness. Both Samuel and Abraham were kids, Abraham just a few years older than her son. And he had such a wonderful power. He was the one who healed her. First, when she realized that, she thought about Linderman. But Abraham was just different. He was sweet and innocent just like Micah. Maybe that was the reason she didn't want to see him much. And, additionally, Samuel didn't let too much of that. He was a few years older than his brother, but Niki thought, he wasn't even twenty. He had a strange ability. He called it mind impulsing. By touch and concentration he could implant thoughts, emotions to others' mind. Even smaller illusions, like he did to Niki. He said he didn't know what she feels when Abraham's healing him, and he wanted to prevent anything bad.

Although the cure was working, lots of Niki's skin was damaged, so for most of the day she had to lay in bed and the boys came to her. Samuel stepped to her head and Abraham grabbed her hand. She felt the soft, white fog again, but after one single moment it was broken. She felt that Abraham was leaving her hand. Someone was gasping heavily behind her.

She heard Samuel's voice.

"What's that? In your head? Something dark, torn apart."

She was shocked. The cure worked too well. They may have cured her out of the virus. So her ability might be able to return? Because if it does, they all are in terrible danger.

Nathan had a very, very strange feeling when he got up. He thought he was shot. He remembered that he had looked in Peter's face after he collapsed. Then, everything turned black. But if that happened, how could be in pyjamas, and how could he see light and how could he be locked in chains?

Someone opened a door and he turned his head that way. It was Bob with a pleased look on his face.

"Where am I?" asked Nathan with a bit of fury.

"At a safe place." he answered calmly.

"What happened?"

"You're lucky to be alive..."

"I'm not supposed to be. I was shot! What am I doing here? And what are you doing here?"

"That's a long story and I'm going to tell you when the time comes."

"What happened to Peter?" This question was just as important as his own life's was.

"Unfortunately, I have no information about him."

"Damn you!" he cried out. He tried to fly but the bed was too heavy. "If you hide my brother from me again, I'll kill you."

"I'm not hiding him. Your mother does."

"What?" This sentence confused him very much. "Bring him to me. She'll tell it to me." Another question is that he didn't want to tell the Company about that.

"We will. When you both are ready."

"When will be that?" asked Nathan.

"Depends." And Bob left the room quickly. She walked into his office. Hiro Nakamura was waiting for him.

"Good morning." greeted Bob him.

"Who are you?" asked Hiro.

"I'm Bob. We had talked on phone and it's a pleasure to meet you."

"We did?" he asked confusedly. "I don't remember. Why am I here?"

"We're going to Acacia Cemetery. And we're going to pay respects to a great man. Nathan Petrelli."

The Mercury's was a place just like Sabine Dailly described it. Several prostitutes, lots of dark places, smell of vodka and beer and a lot of people who looked like they had a long track record. Matt was a bit afraid that his ability wouldn't work on so many people, but he managed to get to the barman without an insulting move or word, although all of his apparel and movement excelled out of the crowd.

"Give me a beer." he whispered. He didn't want to be heard by too many customers. "And some information about Nolan Jefferson."

"Who the hell?" the barman asked but Matt was listening to his thoughts. "I must alert him with Caylynn. He could get out on the kitchen door before this cop gets a smell of him." he thought.

"Nolan Jefferson." answered Matt calmly. He knew what he was coming for. "It's a pity." he said as he received his beer. "I might have a job for him.

"He haven't been here for a long time." the barman said as Matt was going away.

He went out, to the streets, to the alley where guessed the back door was. After a few minutes, he saw a door opening and a man moving out. He jumped out with the gun in his hand and yelled. "Freeze! Hands up!"

There wasn't too much light, in fact, it wasn't enough. He didn't see Nolan's face and he only saw one of his hands. So Nolan snapped the scourge-like thing in his other hand. The string picked Matt"s flesh and caused so much pain that he couldn't think and dropped the gun, too. Nolan stepped closer to him. Now, Matt saw his face. He grew a beard and his face was thicker and paler than on the photo of him at the police. He pressed the string harder, pulled out another one from his pocket, reeled it around Matt's neck and threw the other end of it on the nearby street lamp. He pulled Matt there and bound it like a rope.

"That'll be the destiny of any cop coming after me." he hissed and pulled the string so Matt was lifted up from the ground. But he let the other one looser and Matt tried to concentrate on him. Suggesting Nolan to let him go. To let everyone go. Nolan got to his head.

"What are you doing to me?" he whispered. Matt tried harder and the pinch got a bit looser.

"Let me go." he suggested. "Let everyone go."

Nolan released the string, sat down and started crying. Matt slowly picked up his gun and looked for something to cover his bleeding hand. But he still didn't get to close to Nolan He didn't know why but he felt with him. So he decided to go Sabine's bed first, although he could only hope for the best.

Mohinder wasn't feeling any happiness when he arrived to Madras. Although this was his home, all of his childhood memories bound him here, most of it was gone. In fact, the memories were in his mind, but just to remind him to his loss. Every member of his family is dead now. And he hadn't been there for any of them. Couldn't help them through. Or maybe save them. Zero out of three. Definitely not the best rate. Although he knew that it was useless, he blamed himself a bit. Even touching and seeing his mother's corpse caused him more pain than he had thought. He touched the now cold hands and felt something dark and sad deep inside of him. That was his Karma, some would say. But he could not cry. He expected himself to do that but he couldn't. He just felt lonely, empty and tired. He went to sleep early, but naturally he didn't sleep well.

He had to realize he wasn't in his bed. He was lying on grass. Someone gave him a hand to help him get up.

"How?" Mohinder asked but he realized it was a dream. "Where are we?"

It was Sanjog. As usually, he didn't say a word, just pointed something behind his back. It was a huge monastery. Mohinder knew he had seen it before but he didn't know how and where. He started walking to the entrance of it. After a few meters, he saw that the door wasn't open so he slowed down. Then, a huge explosion appeared from nowhere and blasted out the whole door. It was the flaming shape again. He started running away from it but he fell and the figure was coming closer and closer to him. He could feel the monstrous heat of it again. It was just a few inches away from him when it stopped. He could now see his eyes. Dark eyes like the new moon might, but the fire was reflected in them.

It closed its eyes and exploded again. The same moment, Mohinder woke up sweating heavily.

Sylar thought it was pretty easy to get to Deborah Marshall. He just had to ask a few people and everyone told him much more than he wanted to know. So he was waiting for her after she had finished school for that day. Possibly her last.

"Good afternoon." he greeted her. "You're Debbie Marshall? The cheerleader of this wonderful team of the school?" he tried to be as flattering as he could.

"Who are you?" asked she like he was talking to some piece of dirt.

"I'm Bennet. Henry Bennet. I'm an author of Unbelievable." he lied. "I bet you've never heard about us."

"Unbelievable? It does sound like junk." she started turning away.

"Your story is really unbelievable. And I guess no one believes you really. Except me. I know you're telling the truth." he whispered.

Her eyes glinted as they met his ones.

"Let's walk." requested Sylar.

She told the whole story not one, but many times. And he was listening carefully and patiently. The story had the mark of her disappointment on it, but he thought knew it was generally true. Sometimes she started arguing about Claire but he didn't say anything just simply nodded. He didn't listen to her very much. He was just looking for one answer and was waiting for the moment to ask the question. And, during their walk he tried to lead their way to some place where they could hide.

As they reached a small park with huge trees and without any people, he finally thought that this was the right moment.

"Do you know someone who befriended Claire Butler those times?"

"Is that important?" she asked.

"Well, it might be. He could be also a trail to solve this mystery. And to prove that you're right." he added.

"Well, there was that Rosen kid. What was his name? West, I think. Silly name, isn't it?"

"It is." he whispered. He probably knew everything he needed. "Just like Sylar."

"What?" she asked but she noticed she couldn't move. With his mind, he pulled her behind a tree and with a move of his finger, he slit her throat. He didn't want to leave a trail. Not like Claire did. It caused the best feel of freedom and happiness that he could do this again, just like at the Bennet's house. He heard a loud scream. A girl with a blotter, by the same age as Debbie, was following them. But she wasn't fast enough to get away. Not away from him. He stopped her with his telekinetic ability and pulled her there too. Then, he cracked her neck. As her body collapsed the blotter fell down and several paper sheets fell out of it. He looked around with pleasure. Then, just for an eye blink, he looked on the sheets. And suddenly, he saw something on it, although there wasn't a line on it. He got down on his knees and dipped his hand in the blood that was leaking from Debbie's wound.

His eyes turned dead, and with this morbid material, he began to paint.

Noah was almost shocked when he noticed that he was not alone in his cell. He sat up slowly. He could hardly believe his eyes. Beside his bed, there stood another one, with another man on it. Many years ago, he knew this face. Although, there were a few more wrinkles on the face, he could easily recognize the straight, fair hair, the aquiline nose and the big ears. He haven't seen this face for a long long time. And this was not a surprise, in case of this man.

The man lying on that bed was Claude Rains.