If it wasn't for Matt, Peter would say later, there would have been a lot of very, very dead people along the torn up road. Though one poor girl did have a violent, fever induced seizure, Peter was there to take care of her in her last moments of life and with Matt's prompts, the soldiers and the remaining, uninfected National Guard soldiers directed the near riot back to the quarantine zone.

By that point, the place looked very different. Tents had been erected in the former football field for the dead. Everyone showing symptoms were set up at at the high school. Primatech was under armed guard. The houses and businesses in between were all but barricaded from those hiding away from an airbourne illness that was just as likely to claim them inside as out with the way soldiers were insisting on banging on doors to get full blood work on everyone.

Mohinder was no where to be seen, already escorted back to his lab since someone told the commanding officer in charge that he had a way of identifying the infected. Mohinder had argued, of course, but there wasn't a lot to be done when under supervision like this.

It was worse than being at the Company, worse than being told to experiment on people with powers. Worse because he knew he was writing death warrants for each new group of individuals paraded through the lab for their blood to be drawn.

Red bracelets were issued to the infected.

White to those exposed.

There were still a whole stack of white bracelets laying in a pile on his desk and they were nearly out of red.