seekevolution | The Storm

There was skin under his fingernails, mixed with blood. Mohinder had never fought like that before, had never used his hands like claws against the face of another. He'd always been more of a pacifist, minus a few small occasions where violence had been needed to protect innocent people from more dangerous ones. Matt and Sylar both understood that about him.

And now, so too did a man in his late thirties with a dirty beard and one ruined eye they'd left back about a mile behind them. He'd gone for Molly, said lewd and horrible things-- Mohinder still didn't really remember what happened. Molly had pulled him away in the end and together, they'd kept walking towards the loft.

Both were silent now. The triumphant feeling they'd shared when their rescue mission had first been hatched had diminished slowly the moment they'd seen the city and had not kept from falling further each new block conquered.

People were dead in the streets, no matter how many Peter and Matt had cleared. Many had been riddled with bullets. Keeping Molly from seeing them had been impossible.

At least around the loft, death had more or less left them alone.

Mohinder held out his hand to help the girl up the stairs and moved towards the poorly barricaded door. He stepped out into the open, his mind a sort of dim haze. No one here, he kept repeating to himself. Oh God, what did I bring her to? The thought of going anywhere else to find Matt was terrifying.

Mohinder pushed open the door, blood speckled on his face, and blinked at the gun pointed at him. And at the man doing the pointing.

It wasn't Mohinder that spoke first, but Molly: "Matt!"

Matt reflexively turned the gun on her when she spoke and that was a move he'd hate himself a little bit for for many, many years. But it only spoke all too clearly of what exactly a month in isolation had done to him. There was something very hard and guarded in his expression and something haunted deep in his eyes, in the way he for a moment looked at them like he didn't quite know them.

Yet when that expression started clearing it didn't leave him looking like his old self. It left him looking distantly unsure. But he was quick to raise his hand and put the gun away and stoop down to let his daughter approach him, and while it looked like she wanted nothing more than to fling herself around his neck like she had so many times before she went up thim carefully like she understood that he wasn't quite the same. Like she needed to check that out and be sure before she did anything.

He reached for her hands first and then slowly pulled her into a hug, but he felt distant. Unreal. Like he was moving through water. All his senses seemed blocked out when he looked up at Mohinder.

Mohinder. Blood on his face, tired eyes, stubble, messy hair. Looked the same, but not quite. Matt stared at him like he had to commit him to memory and he really, really was. He'd almost forgotten what he'd looked like. Had almost forgotten that quality Molly's voice had when she said his name.

And this was his family, and he didn't dare believe they were there, and he didn't understand why they were. He stroked a hand over Molly's hair.

"What are you doing here?" he asked Mohinder in a faraway tone, but his eyes never left his face.

Matt's eyes on him caused the blood to turn from splatter to streams down Mohinder's cheeks as he stood in the doorway, satchel over one shoulder, the sleeve of his light weight coat nearly pulled off. There was something wild about the Indian, as wild as Matt was closed off and tired. They both looked different enough to be foreign to the other and yet still the same, just underneath the grime of separation.

Molly took a step aside from Matt when he stood again, grinning sweetly as she looked from one parent to the other.

It took a moment, but Mohinder did manage to speak. "You were lost," he said, eyebrows evening out and jaw set, turned upwards slightly as if in defiance. He moved slowly towards the three steps down into the main work area, where his lab was still set up but no longer in reasonable working order. He didn't let his gaze linger from the detective's. "We couldn't find you." He stopped at the bottom landing, chest heaving and voice straining. "And then...you were alive again."

Mohinder's lips trembled.

"And I--" He almost couldn't see, fat tears blinding him. "And I couldn't bear another day without you."

Matt wasn't sure what that meant at first. He hadn't died, had he? Peter had insisted on always going first into a risky situation and had died so many times from that, but it had spared Matt's life. Always. He'd gotten hurt, but he hadn't ... except yesterday. He'd been unconscious yesterday.

It had taken them less than a day to get here because they thought he'd died.

He approached Mohinder slowly, not saying anything, not knowing what to say at all. But he lifted his hands to his face, touch careful against the darker skin like he still couldn't believe this, needed to make sure, make it real that he was there just from his thumbs against his cheeks. He looked between his eyes and took in the tears and the new ferocity behind them and it made him breathless to see so close, all of it, the deep brown. He swallowed and moved forwards and hugged an arm around Mohinder's torso.

"Molly", he said against Mohinder's shoulder, and she took the hand he held out for her.

He stood like that for a moment. Tears were far, far away from him and so were any kind of words, but the stunned silence said more than he could have managed anyway.

Tears turned to laughter and Mohinder's arms tightened around Matt too, afraid to let go ever again. With Molly beside them, they were a family once more and a family they were simply going to have to remain from here on out. Mohinder's mind buzzed lightly with praise to gods he did not believe in and foolish belief that everything would be all right again.

Molly was all a chatter, speaking too fast as if the words she'd been holding back for two weeks now were just too much for the tip of her tongue. They all spilled out together in a jumble of scientific mumbo jumbo and the state of her dear elephant, who had been in the back of Matt's car. Yes, she wanted to know where it was, but said it was all right if he had to leave it. A girl could hope. It was the first purely childish thing she'd asked for since this second outbreak started and Mohinder was beyond thrilled to listen to it, even if he knew she'd be ultimately disappointed with the answer.

Matt could not have been moving around with a giant stuffed elephant.

After a little while, Molly excused herself to use the bathroom, the toilets still flushing but the water not exactly clean nor odourless when it filled the bowl. Perhaps it was selfish of Mohinder to be glad for a few stolen moments alone with Matt, but selfish or not, he pulled back slightly once the door to the back room was shut and touched a hand to the taller man's cheek.

"I can't leave you be," he whispered. "The moment I do, you forget how to eat properly." Yes, he was trying to make light of it. Mohinder's voice cracked at the end, but his smile was bright.

No, Matt hadn't driven around with a stuffed elephant in the car. He'd taken it back up to their apartment the moment it had become clear that he wouldn't get to leave and that he'd need the space in the trunk for additional things. It was still there, to his knowledge. And he told her as much and hugged her and kissed her hair and let her go with his mind reached out for hers. Just in case.

When he stood and found Mohinder's fingers on his cheek something shifted again in his expression. It lightened, a little, but at the same time something incredibly sad flickered over his gaze.

He didn't manage to smile back yet. He hadn't smiled properly for weeks.

He hadn't kissed anyone for weeks, either. But he did now, rather suddenly and with a surprisingly desperate edge, like maybe he'd meant to respond with words but instead did with his lips. He had a hand in Mohinder's hair and the other somewhere near his jaw and he'd actually grabbed him and was now kissing him like it was the only answer he had to the unspoken question he thought he'd heard in Mohinder's voice.

He couldn't make sense of his own thoughts. So he ignored them and focused on the lips pressed against his own.

And what are thoughts, what are words, when you could have this? Mohinder didn't even try to hold on. There was no sweet waif waiting to be touched, waiting to tremble under a hand or a mouth. He was strong in his own right, not just of intellect, but resilience too.

He could be a warrior. He'd proved it, hadn't he? Perhaps not by weapon, but through a trial of fire and heartache. He'd won, too. Look at what he'd won!

Mohinder kissed Matt back fiercely, possessively. The beat of his heart in his ears was like the beat of a song that filled him. Tribal. Needy. He sucked in a breath just after Matt did, arching upwards into the detective until something hit the floor somewhere to the left and the sound of a giggle followed.

"Um-- Sorry. Just-- Found some extra water in an office cooler and-- Hey Mohinder," Peter said, heading over to Molly to take her by the hand. "Uh, I like your braid--"

Well, the secret was out. Mohinder would be more embarrassed if he could stop laughing, likely, a good sort of sound, the sound that meant things might be better again soon.

Matt liked that, the very real, very strong presence Mohinder presented when he touched him and kissed him back. It grounded him in a way few things had up until that point, let him focus on something different than survival or pain or thirst. If there was thirst now it was of an entirely different kind and Matt pressed against Mohinder in a way that met the arc of Mohinder's body like a compliment, fitting them together just so.

Matt was so far beyond caring about consequences for this. Who knew, who didn't know, who thought what, who gave a shit? The world was falling down around them. He could kiss his partner if he liked.

It's not like Molly and Peter hadn't suspected, anyway.

Withdrawing from Mohinder but keeping a hand to his back, he turned to Peter, all business in tone and voice. No, he still didn't feel like he could laugh, either. But he felt more alive and that was something. "So it was the office building?" He waited for the nod. "Is there anyone left?"

And as happy as he was to have Molly and Mohinder with him, he knew that now that they were here, they were at risk.

If Matt wanted to keep hold of him, Mohinder would let him. A month apart, each doing duties neither wanted, was enough to let the geneticist relax in his emotions. They were heated. There would be more time for heat later. At the moment, a hand to Matt's chest sufficed.

Peter turned dark eyes towards the elder of their new little group, doubled in size, and shook his head. "No. But there were a dozen in Central Park." At the fire. The look on his face was meant to tell Matt that they hadn't been the cause of the explosion, they'd been victims. "Lord Crazy--" It was what they knew the most violent leader of the largest group in Manhattan by, "had a little shower of strength. Two were just kids."

It killed him to do nothing. Matt could probably see the fire at that.

"I can take them. Alone. I can put them where they won't hurt anyone else." He'd done it to Sylar. Why not this group? And yet... He still gave heed to Matt, even now. Peter was stronger by far, but Matt had become a substitute older brother and Peter latched right onto that role.

Mohinder finally stood back and frowned.

For once, he kept his mouth shut.

Bad day to visit New York?"

Matt ran his hand up Mohinder's back before he moved away as well. Not much, but more at an angle so that he'd be able to see each of them. He had half a thought of sending Molly away, but he knew she'd had seen the destruction of the city and all that came with it. Knew the faint drops of blood on Mohinder's face weren't his own. Knew they all had to be honest and upfront with each other if this was going to work.

"They're people", he said tiredly. "Most of them still are. We can't kill all of them, Peter. If we're gonna take down any of them ... it has to be the leaders."

Kill. That's the kind of thing they really were discussing, wasn't it? It's what everyone else were too. The entire world was watching and taking bets on when they'd all be dead.

It would have been ideal if they could hold them somewhere. But holding anyone anywhere now was a death sentence in itself. Matt hated it because it meant any action now was a cruel one.

"Look, we only know two of them. If we take them out someone else is going to step up. For better or worse. We'd have to monitor them and we're barely holding our own right now. Maybe if we could trap them somehow ... lock the city into sections ..."

They'd discussed that loosely some time ago but had agreed that it'd take too much effort not to mention reveal their powers, but he brought it up again because he wasn't sure about the rest of the options.

Mohinder was a little shocked that it had come to this. He'd seen the riots in Atlanta, watched them in cities across the country on the news. He still, for the life of him, could not see people as the enemy. Stepping into the discussion, Mohinder moved physically between the other two men.

"There's no need. No need for any of this. The inoculation is nearly finished. Before I left, it was going for human testing. In less than a week, it will go into production. In a month, the country will have it--" If anyone was alive in a month. They were all killing each other, whoever the outbreak virus didn't mow down. "We have a place to go. When Atlanta fell, we were taken to Pinehearst, a genetics laboratory right across the bridge. We don't have to stay here."

But Peter felt like being in a belligerent mood. "And what about everyone else, Mohinder? Do we just leave them to these monsters?"

"If there's hope, the violence will stop!" Mohinder said back, raising his voice. He honestly didn't realise, sometimes, how naive he came across.

Matt shook his head and put a hand to Mohinder's arm. A grip, not just a touch. His eyes were dark. Much too serious. "Do you really think these people have any hope left? You saw what's out there. That's one month. I'm not sure people will last another one."

He didn't really dare hope himself, despite Mohinder outright saying that a solution was coming. When you'd seen too much death and destruction you stopped seeing anything else. Matt wanted to kiss Mohinder again partially because of that. He represented before. Something good and stable that he didn't have to second-guess.

He didn't though, not right then. He looked back to Peter.

"Most people won't believe us if we say there's a cure", he said out loud. "And there's no way there'll be food or water for another month." He'd gotten so used to ballparking with Peter that he would show a tendency to forget about the other two. It wasn't about exclusion but efficiency. But after a short beat he seemed to remember that Mohinder came from the outside, and he squeezed his arm a bit when he turned his head back to him.

"What's it look like out there?"

Another kiss would have been welcomed, though perhaps for later. Mohinder wanted to speak to Matt alone first any way. He didn't care for the look in his eyes. The hardness made him worry for the mental state Matt was in and clouded himself in guilt and grief. He never should have left. They should have stayed--

But it had been unavoidable, it truly had been. With Molly, her safety was paramount.

"It's not a cure," Mohinder said immediately, looking between Matt, who held his arm, and Peter. "If a person contracts the virus before I can inoculate them, the disease is fatal within three days." That last bit was nothing no one knew. "It takes less than an hour to incubate the disease and Shanti grows in the lungs...it's passed on through breath. Non-infected can not be carriers."

Peter frowned. "Inoculate them how? We tried giving people Claire's blood--"

"It's my blood...and the blood of the three percent of people out there immune to the virus. It's why Matt and Molly are immune. I gave them my blood."

This was all information that came just a little too late, but he'd been doing important work, important research. Even as Matt tried his hand at protecting people that were slowly returned to more savage lifestyles.

He took the centre platform here, back in professor mode, lecturing to the three surrounding him. He felt more in his element here, nothing could be said to change that.

"It's bad out there. Your footage from this city set off panic. There's been three new outbreaks, but no one can figure out how. Sickness comes too quickly and is carried only short distances."

Mohinder likely had reason to worry. Matt was a good person, still tried to be, but a lot of his gentler nature had been stripped away in favor of hard practicality and a sense of ruthlessness. He didn't have the same luxury of emotions he'd had earlier. Peter had a similar look about him. New York wasn't an easy place to be in.

But information was good, and moreover, it was good news. Matt's eyes widened a fraction. "So we're safe", he not-quite-questioned out loud, and at the confirmation he turned to Peter again. "That means we could get these people out of here. If there's anywhere to take them -"

Anywhere at all. It was the situation that made these people cruel. They needed help, were malnourished and weak and desperate, had lost too much. Peter brightened a little at the prospect of actually being that help. Getting to make a difference.

It'd expose them, though. Matt couldn't be sure how much of a problem that would be, but it needed serious consideration and he started pacing again as he thought out loud.

"Is there anywhere they could get help? Centers, hospitals, whatever?"

That was more to Mohinder.

"If not, we need one. We have to get these people out. Does people know we're not contagious?"

"Washington most certainly ought to," Mohinder said, matter-of-factly. "I wrote the missive myself before we even left Atlanta to beg them to send the military back into the cities." That had been a week ago. "Of course, I got myself a bit caught up, and Atlanta was hit soon after. I still believe there must be a place for these people. You certainly can't stay here."

He wouldn't leave Matt, not ever again. Wanting to take his hand, Mohinder still refrained for now. There will be time later for these things. Today? They had to regroup. Had to leave.

"Come back with us to Pinehearst. They'll be better able to coordinate a rescue. It's perhaps one of the most secure research facilities I've ever worked in. There are riots at the door but thus far, no breach. And the riots are bound to stop once the inoculations begin being distributed."

So many pretty words. Mohinder believed them all. It was both to his credit and his general detriment.

"Please. A shower, a shave... And then we'll get these people out of here." He needed to remind Matt that the world was still good.

Matt shared a dubious look with Peter. He could tell that Mohinder fully believed what he was saying but that didn't actually instill total confidence, not that that was Mohinder's fault. There was a divide now between their experiences. Being on the other side of the riots Mohinder described had left marks on both the other men.

At the same time, their options were dwindling. They couldn't do much to help these people from the inside anymore.

So Matt nodded, after a second, and went right back to pick up his gun again, already mentally on his way.

"How many other places are quarantined?" he asked over his shoulder. Molly looked at him in a way he didn't quite like but he wasn't sure how to reassure her right now. "You need to give us the full rundown."

Mohinder looked at Matt as if he had four heads and shook his head, going instead to Molly to get her seated and to give her some water. It had been a harrowing few hours and sure, nothing like what Matt experienced, but...maybe he'd been expecting a warmer greeting (other than whatever fierce passion they'd experienced) from the other man after a month of separation. He knew it wasn't fair of him to think that and he corrected himself immediately.

Giving Matt 'full detail' was impossible. Mohinder had his nose stuck in a lab for almost eighteen hours every single day, only stopping to sleep when he found himself with his nose in the spine of a notebook and his writing incomprehensible.

"Boulder, Boston, Jacksonville, Atlanta, Philadelphia, Baltimore, Detroit, Chicago and Saint Louis are uninhabitable. Everyone else has quarantineed themselves. There'd been a few stories about people being suspected of having the virus turned out or killed, even if it was just the flu. There's martial law just about everywhere. It sounds bad. It is bad. But it won't stay that way. A few more days is all we need."

And a few months later to synthesis the product.

Who knows what damage will be done by then?

If Matt overheard those thoughts he didn't say or think anything in response. But he kept close to his family despite the apparent distance he displayed, wanting to keep his eyes on them. Stood next to Mohinder and gave Molly a long look which she silently returned.

The list was a worrying one. But it could have been worse, he supposed. Peter latched onto that, saying something about how given the size of the country, that really wasn't so bad.

Matt remained cautious, however.

"I hope so", he said darkly in response, looking out the windows for a moment, at the complete lack of movement and the smoke still visible at a distance. "We don't have more time if we want people to come out of this alive."

He made a quick round along the loft after that, took stock on what they had. If they were leaving -

He looked up at Peter. "Want to make a last drop?"

Potentially ill-advised, but they didn't know how long they'd be gone and they still had three spots if they had to return.

"I'm sorry, the last what?" No, it didn't occur to Mohinder that Matt and Peter had been doing more than just getting by here...they'd been trying to help everyone else out too.

Peter, ignoring the scientist, nodded to Matt instead. "I'll do it. If we're leaving and they only have a few more days here, I'll leave notes too. We'll clear out the stores and... Stay with them, Matt." Just in case they were followed. A man and a little girl would be like blood in the water to sharks. Especially ones so clean. They could well have led others to them but Matt could handle it well enough. Over the last few weeks, Peter had seen amazing things come out of Matt he'd never have expected at all.

From anyone.

He had a really tremendous grasp on his ability. Tremendous.

Pater clasped Matt on the wrist like old knights might have and disappeared with the newly found water and a pallet of toilet paper. It was only then, eyes wide, that Mohinder understood.

Matt was closed off emotionally to keep going but he hadn't changed. He was still a good man. A beautifully kind-hearted man in every small sense of the word, truly. Mohinder stood and faced Matt when Peter was gone, Molly looking up at the two of them.

She ended up breaking the silence. "Can I be the flower girl?"

And that's when the two of them would see Matt smile for the first time in a month. It was a tired smile, frayed around the edges, but he crouched down and balanced on the balls of his feet to touch Molly's face. He still had some blood on his hands, dried and cracked up in places, but it didn't leave any traces on Molly's skin.

There was some symbolism in that, probably. If you were into that kind of thing.

"Yeah, sweetheart. Who else?"

Marriage was far off the table as far as discussion went. They couldn't even be married in New York even if they wanted to. But it was such an innocent yet knowing question and that's what Matt meant with his answer, in a sense.

Who else, really?

He pulled her gently towards him and kissed her hair. Then he stood and picked up the last water bottle, half full and lukewarm.

"Okay, c'mon. We should go."

It wasn't entirely dark out yet but Matt didn't want either of them there when darkness really fell.

Keeping his thoughts to himself suddenly much more difficult than before, Mohinder just pressed his lips together at Matt and Molly's exchange and keeps the rest silent. Such things never occured to him. Being engaged once had been enough for a tear and-- All right, he told himself quietly. Don't make much of it.

There was little time to do anything at the moment though. Teleporting was imprecise and Peter would simply have to follow them, it seemed. Another few hours' walk back to the car didn't seem quite as interesting as it might seem and passing the guards wasn't something Mohinder was going to relish.

They could shoot them. Now, he'd left instructions to allow them to return but there were boys at New York's new gate. Boys that didn't understand how these things happened or who didn't know, rightly, when to be afraid and when to let honour take over.

Mohinder didn't think too much about this little journey other than getting to Matt. The rest...he'd hoped someone else had an exit strategy for.

Molly walked between them, Matt ahead, listening, Mohinder behind. He did his best to keep watch but he was a professor, an academic. Those professions did not lend well to being a good scout, incidentally. He never heard the man behind him. He never even called out when he was grabbed.

His thoughts, though? Those could not be silenced.

Oh, the guy was good. Good because Matt hadn't quite noticed him either - he must have been focused on his silence and his task something fierce. But the mental cry of alarm was loud enough to Matt who immediately called to Molly's mind to go hide, and she trusted him enough to duck away immediately, eyes wide as she found a vantage point and tried to see what had happened. She was scared.

Matt had whirled around immediately, reflexes kicking in quickly, honed by the month in the ghost town. He had his gun pointed to the man and ignored Mohinder's face completely for the time being as he took a step forwards, looking utterly dangerous. Jaw set. Eyes almost black.

He recognised this man. One of Lord Crazy's crew, a bit older, graying at the temples. He had a knife held to Mohinder's throat.

"Are you alone?"

Matt snapped it, already reaching for his mind. The man didn't say anything, so Matt ripped into his head. It was fast and probably painful judging by the way the man twitched, but then he slowly moved his hand away from Mohinder's neck, dropping the knife on the floor, and even more slowly took a step back.

Matt slammed him into the nearest wall. He had his arm pressed up beneath the guy's chin, cutting off his air supply, muzzle of the gun pressed firmly against his forehead.

That got his attention and he opened his mouth to say something but Matt was beyond listening at that point and after ensuring the man wouldn't go anywhere, he lifted his arm from where it was held over his neck to put his palm against his forehead. Things were silent after that.

At least until his body dropped to the ground, eyes rolled back into his sockets and mouth slightly open, and Matt stepped away from him in disgust.

He stepped over the knife which had a thin edge of blood on it. He'd shifted focus already, taking the few steps he needed to get to Mohinder and reached out to him, voice a bit breathless and raw when he asked, "You okay?"

Scared. That's just how Mohinder looked when Matt came to him, blood fresh on his throat and hair torn, a bruise forming on an already dark jawline. Mohinder's eyes didn't lift towards Matt but towards the man that had been still quivering when Matt dropped him, just his foot twitching back and forth until that too was stopped. Mohinder swallowed, the action sending one small rivet of blood to his collar. He needed to stop wearing such pale shirts. They dirtied so quickly.

Mohinder shook when Matt touched him, his own hand lifting to set on the pale, bearded cheek of the man in front of him. You killed him. Just like that. No weapon, just thoughts. How was that possible? An overload of senses? A command to die? Could a man be commanded like that?

So many questions. So many.

Mohinder's mind rattled them off like the alphabet, a steam of consciousness for things he could never ask. Scared, horrified, proud, relieved, curious-- His feelings were impossible to sort out as he wrapped his arms around Matt's neck.

He'd seen so much death...why did this one bother him so much? Why did it make something stir in his belly? Had Molly not been watching, Mohinder might have reached for Matt's belt and insisted to be had, right there on the hood of a damaged and beaten in car.

"Molly--!"

Matt looked back to the unconscious man. No, he hadn't killed him. He'd-- punched him, had tore something up in his head, but he hadn't killed him. Or if he had, he hadn't meant to. Either way, he wasn't cut up for regret right then and didn't actually deny what Mohinder was thinking when he put his hands to his sides. He still had his gun in his right and Mohinder would feel that when he was pushed back, but only to create enough distance to let Matt look at the cut on his throat.

It looked like it'd sting but not like it'd kill him. Having concluded that much Matt reached up with his free hand to touch Mohinder's face in a mirror image of his own gesture, but there was something fiercely possessive in Matt's eyes that gave extra weight to the touch.

Matt thought of Molly almost at the same time Mohinder did and he turned to where he heard her thoughts but couldn't see her.

"Molly, sweetheart", he said with the same raw edge to his voice. He didn't say more than that. She didn't need more to slowly come out from behind the same car Mohinder had been thinking about.

"What did you do?" she asked, uncertainly, and something passed over Matt's face.

"He's not going to hurt us anymore."

Anymore, because he'd seen all the things the man had been thinking and as far as Matt was concerned right then such thoughts were just as bad as actions. He'd been alone and that was something, but he also had friends nearby that just might find him, and if they did ...

"Come on. We got to keep moving."

A gurgle came from the dead man and Mohinder absolutely bleeted like a goat while Matt was examining the wound on his throat. Just a nick, it was already stopping bleeding. He'd just have to take a round of antibiotics. Who knew what else was on that knife? Likely, nothing good. It'd been somewhat dull too, the gash across his neck was throbbing already.

Though the man wsn't as dead as previously thought, what sort of man might be left in that body, blood trickling out of his nose? Mohinder's curiosity might have once prompted him to stay, his desire to help the man moot at this point since he was not a medical doctor. Now, he simply wanted to flee.

Taking Molly by the hand firmly, Mohinder pressed his lips together and started back towards the bridge, no longer really caring to be left in the back or to walk in the centre of the road. Weaving around cars offered little by way of cover and too much for those that might do them harm.

"The car's about half a mile from here," Mohinder said, stupidly believing it might still be. Or that it might be unguarded. One man jumping him had been terrifying. Five around the black SUV from Pinehearst was worse.

Mohinder didn't mean to cower, but he did pull Molly behind Matt after ducking back around the corner. He wasn't sure if they'd been seen or not, but the other ways were blocked. Had Matt not been with him, had he not been attacked, Mohinder might have approached these people with hands raised and offered them water. The idiot was actually thinking that might still be a good tactic.

Otherwise, how could they leave the city when every other road was blocked?

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