"Atlanta? I don't know, man. I wouldn't go near any major city if I didn't have to." He had no idea that Mohinder and Molly were there. "Even the medium sized cities are probably hunkering down. Looked like the West Coast was doing all right but who knows." He didn't mean to be cold. Peter couldn't even manage that particular mindset for longer than a few minutes and the sigh proved it. "Your arm will be okay. It's already clotting on it's own. What happened to the old apartment? I went there to find Mohinder but all of the carpets were ripped out and the walls were painted over."

Peter, for one, would rather not go back and investigate where they'd just left. Seeing so many people dead was just weighing down on him. His nephews and their mother were safe, at least. Far away, up in Maine now at the family house. He'd made sure to stock it up before he left.

"And he wasn't at Isaac's either." C'mon Matt, tell Peter where he can find their only hope.

Or so he thinks. Truthfully, Mohinder doesn't believe he has the answer...just the ability to save those not yet infected.