A Laboratory

I wake up. The soldier side of my brain comes alive first, starts a checklist...

...I'm sitting in a metal chair. Some kind of lab. I've taken a bullet: blood runs down my arm. Behind the spotlight pointed in my face, my interrogator is a black outline.

I know this place. I try to think.

Pinehearst.

Then I see the IV in my arm. It's blue. Dripping into my arm. I know that blue...

The interrogator steps forward. Shuffling.

"Petrelli--" I start. But no. It's the girl. The one from the desert lab who almost killed me. Her skin is stained from the chemicals. Her arms and legs are swollen until shiny-tight. Her eyes are unfocused. She drips.

She lunges.

• I hit her...
• I yell for backup...
• I run...