May 2007, And The Rest You Can Keep

[ellectrical]

The shouting of the escaped prisoners is still echoing in the stairwell when Elle steps through. She's wearing the clothes she'd left in – her blue blouse, still stained in the back with Sylar's blood, black slacks, no shoes. But her hair is tied back with a black band, and what should be open wounds are now scars across her forehead and hands. It's the best she can do, and the plan is to not be seen, in any case. Elle moves onto the landing, glancing up and down the stairwell, eyes not lingering on the body that has now been tossed from its contorted position on the stairs to crumpled in the corner, before she signals for X to follow.

They go up only one level before Elle heads into the hall. It's dark enough that she lifts her palm and holds out an electric blue sphere in front of her, like a lantern. Through two smaller corridors, she locates Stairway B, which is much less likely to be occupied.

It gets them to the fourth floor. Elle's room is in the main hall, and for the first time, they do encounter someone – an agent she recognizes is holding a flashlight, and standing outside her door. X complies when Elle motions for her to stay behind the corner while she steps into the hall.

The agent is taken down easily enough with one bright white arc. While Elle forces her way into the room as the lock is set and the keypad has gone dark, X fashions the agent's clothing as restraints, finishing by wrapping his tie around his eyes like a blindfold. Just in case.

It doesn't take Elle too much time to weaken the door's latch enough for her to kick it open. It's more noise than she would like, but it doesn't look like the agent was set what would be thought a particularly challenging job. X still drags the limp man into the room as well, dumping him in the tub in the bathroom and locking the door from the outside.

The room itself is moderately spacious, though there are no windows, Elle is still their only source of light, even if X doesn't really need it. The floor is hardwood (less flammable than carpet), and the walls painted a deep shade of blue, which matches the color of her bedspread. Other furniture is somewhat sparse: there's a wood dresser and mirror across from the bed, a night stand on which rests a small lamp, a tiny television and VCR set plugged into the wall, next to which were a stack of video tapes either related to her files, or things from her early childhood she hadn't watched in years.

It's the closet to the right of the bed that Elle heads to first, from which she pulls out a small blue suitcase. She really can only afford to take what's necessary – the first things are from her top drawer, where underneath nightgowns and socks she stores fake driver's licenses and passports, bank cards and cash. All of these go in the case first, along with four changes of clothes (Elle likes her clothes, but she doesn't have time to pick favorites – and if things go according to plan, getting more shouldn't be a problem), a shoulder holster for a handgun, a few items from her bathroom, some hastily chosen pieces of jewelry, and two pairs of shoes, one of them black flats that she pulls on her own feet. A small piece of paper is taken from the top drawer, but she folds it against her waistband rather than adding it to the pile in the suitcase.

And then, Elle climbs up onto her bed, and picks off the collection of plastic, glow-in-the-dark stars that's affixed to her ceiling. It's the only true personal affect Elle choose to take from her room. It's only small pieces of tape that keeps them there – she sticks them together, and adds them to what she's packed.

They wait for a while after this. Elle occasionally checks into the bathroom to make sure the agent is still unconscious, while X sits by the door, making herself aware of every movement in the hallway beyond to be sure no one is heading toward the room. Even with the chaos outside, changes in Company leadership are frequent enough that Elle knows it won't take them too long to make the office ready for its next occupant – in this case, getting her father's body to the morgue before it's even cold. After that, it probably wouldn't be touched for some time – it wasn't like he needed an autopsy.

Maybe a closed-casket funeral, if they were that kind of people.

Finally, after consulting with X to make sure the hall is clear, Elle steps back out, hand held in front with a bright sphere of blue sparks above it. X follows, carrying the suitcase easily in one hand. It works best, for now. Elle leads back to the side stairwell, still empty, that takes them up to the next floor.

That there's no one outside her father's office, but the door is left ajar. It tells her that they've waited long enough. As they head down the hall, Elle sees her heeled shoes, still where she'd left them next to the wall. She doesn't stop for them.

It's the first time they've entered a room with windows. The light isn't as bright as it was earlier, now tinged with orange, suggesting that it's nearing sunset, but there's still enough that Elle can lower her hand. Her father's chair had turned to face the door, now empty of its occupant. X stations herself as a lookout at the door, while Elle walks through the office. Other than the body having been removed, the office hasn't been cleaned up in any other way – the files are still strewn across the floor, her father's belongings cluttered in the shelves. Two leather books had fallen from the top of the book case.

Elle moves to the desk, the small piece of paper she'd removed from her dresser crunched against her palm. When she reaches the computer, she never sits in the chair – but as she had before, Elle gets down on her knees and finds the computer's cord under the desk, and uses the tie from her hair to affix it to her arm. The computer is powered immediately, no access to the server. She opens her hand and spreads the scrap of paper open against the surface of the desk; since she was fourteen, Elle had watched her father closely enough to record his various passwords. This had never been one of her reasons for doing it.

Her father also wasn't nearly as clever as he liked to think he was, but Elle doesn't know that.

Once she's through three sets of passwords, it's the identity records that she deletes first. Aliases, fake social security and driver's license numbers. She erases her father as she erases herself. The financial records, however, include information she needs – Elle reaches in to the left side top drawer and doesn't have to rifle through it for long before she finds his black flip phone. This time, she can read the screen as it illuminates. The Bishop accounts were in two banks – the full extent of his wealth included gold stores within the facility that hadn't yet been liquidated, but there was no way of accessing that.

On the other hand, she was named in both of his accounts, and had her own. If Bob knew how to show his love for his daughter in one way, it was, and would be, in making sure she knew how to keep their money.

The first call goes to the Swiss account. The second is to Bank of Chiba. Her father was right about her accent – the woman who takes her call has enough difficulty understanding as Elle reads off every code, account number, and routing number from her father's files.

And then asks about the contents of the account's safety deposit box.

There's no mention of it in the records. The woman has to repeat her question before Elle tells her not to close the account until she picks up the contents herself. However the hell that will happen.

After, Elle closes the phone, and by the time it's fallen from to the floor from her open hand, it's nothing more than twisted burnt metal and plastic. Elle moves back to the computer to permanently erase the remaining files, before tugging off the cord affixed to her arm, yanking the computer's hard drive out from under the desk, and shoving it down to the floor. She has to stomp a few times to break through the plastic covering, and then her foot lights up, igniting the interior in a large, and loud, spurt of sparks.

X could say that this is not efficient. But she doesn't. Regardless, it is effective – this isn't the first time Elle has destroyed such equipment.

As she had only hours earlier, Elle opens the center drawer of the desk and surveys its contents. The gun she'd picked out earlier isn't her own choice – this one is smaller, easier to maneuver and to conceal. She lifts it out and checks the lock before setting it on the desk and, unlike how she treated the hard drive, gently closes the drawer again.

When Elle moves to pick it up, as well as her list of passwords, she notices something else – the framed photograph her father had of himself. He wasn't wearing a suit, but the kind of clothes most would associate with fishing or hunting, and indeed was holding out a large fish for the camera. None of it is anything Elle really recognizes of her father. Blood is splattered across the frame, partially obscuring his face under the glass.

She picks up it, and smashes the glass against the edge of the desk. But without pausing, she flicks away shards, and extracts the photograph from beneath what's left of the glass. It's carefully folded, and tucked into her waistband, the top concealed by the hem of her blouse. The crumpled list is retrieved, as well as the gun, and she moves back around the desk, to where X is waiting for her.

Again, X doesn't comment on what would have been more efficient. She only remarks, "I did not know you spoke Japanese."

Elle doesn't know what to make of it, and answers, without thinking, "We all do."

Even if there's no we anymore.

The gun goes into her suitcase. She won't need it or the holster before they leave. X is checking that the hall is empty when Elle calls up to her, "I need to know if there's – any of my dad –"

Her attention is focused entirely on zipping up the suitcase as she speaks.

"- in here."

Elle hadn't looked too closely, when she was here earlier, but the top of her father's head had to be somewhere. X watches her for a moment, but lifts her head, and looks into the room.

"There is blood."

She says nothing else. Elle nods, hands the zipped-up suitcase to X, and leads the way back through the door.

The morgue is, conveniently, located on the ground level. Given the number of bodies that are probably in the facility today, Elle is prepared for more of the agents who are still alive to be cluttered in the halls that lead to it. They manage to sidestep Bridget Bailey all together as the she heads for the main stairwell; Elle knocks down another from building security who is passing the door to the morgue. X waits while Elle enters – as she expected, only the attendant is inside.

Unsurprisingly, it's a large room; high steel walls, spacious enough for closets as well as metal gurneys and autopsy tables. The air is still chilled. Metal desks with computers and office chairs are cluttered with open folders and photographs and crammed into the corners. The crematorium is the door on the far left. At first, it doesn't look like anyone's inside, though a couple flashlights have been left alight on the desks, but Elle walks through, passing three metal gurneys, two with black body bags that could contain her father, to the desk in the far right corner. A small, red-haired woman is curled under the desk, knees folded into her stomach and hands twisted over her head. She tilts her head to peek out from under it when Elle stops in front of her desk.

There's recognition, and she opens her mouth to speak, before Elle raises her hand. The woman knocks her head on the office chair, as she collapses against the floor, causing the chair to spin off to the side and nudge one of the gurneys.

Elle walks back across the room to bring X inside. From the blood in his office, X points out which bag contains her father without having to look through them. The bag is still on the gurney, and hasn't been opened. There's a small, opaque plastic box on the tray under the gurney itself. Elle picks it up, and carefully peels back the lid.

She closes it again quickly. They had, apparently, found the rest of her father in his office. Most of him, anyway. X slides her suitcase onto the tray as Elle replaces the box next to it, and together, they push the gurney out into the hall.

The location of the morgue is convenient because it means they can go straight to the garage on the same level. The halls they have to take are relatively clear, but as every inmate in the building was likely headed to this same location, it's unlikely to stay that way once they reach it. Pure luck means they don't run into anyone while slowed by the gurney – a left turn means Elle can take out another guard standing at the door out to the garage. But once they stop, X walks up to the door, and stay still for a long moment.

"There are five." Her eyes meet Elle's. "Two of them are closer."

Elle puts her hand on the door's handle. "Let me go first."

X does not protest, but the flickering moment of hesitation before she nods indicates that she is not best pleased with this arrangement.

But Elle steps ahead through the door, raising her arms as she walks into the large, cement garage. There are emergency lights here – dim fluorescent bulbs high in the ceiling. It's an advantage already – X was right about their positions, and the closer two don't see her come in, only the bright blue light in the corner of their eyes.

Once they're down, however, she's not as lucky – something fires, and Elle has to twist around to face it. When she hears footsteps behind her, the electric arc she sends in return becomes enough to kill any human.

Three more shots ring out – two from behind her, one from in front. Those Elle hadn't struck down herself become clear as they topple to the ground, the blood that begins to pool from their heads more visible as it reflects what dim light there is. Elle turns around, and sees that same reflection on X's stomach.

There's no thought to it when Elle reaches out to her, but she's barely touched X's skin near the wound before she withdraws her hand again.

"Sorry," she murmurs.

X only shrugs. "It did not go through."

It means they won't have to worry about leaving a bullet with X's blood somewhere on the garage floor.

They both slip out to bring the gurney in, before Elle uses a small ball of sparks to find a metal cabinet. The padlock has been destroyed, the door turned off its hinges, but several of the keys are still hanging off their places on the hooks. She recognizes an orange tag and snatches those keys immediately. This level contains the kind of model she'll need, and what she expects most of the others escaping had avoided – plain, nondescript white vans, the kind of thing they used on pickups or long-term surveillance. Several have been destroyed, most of which look like the work of the pyrokinetic, but the one she's chosen is not among them.

Elle unlocks the back. They both lift the body bag off the gurney, X working more carefully than Elle to make sure it's done with some delicacy – X also places the plastic box and suitcase inside with it, while Elle checks that the van already has the box that contains the standard kit for Company work: tranquilizer equipment, black clothing, some smaller cameras, a hacksaw.

A plastic container of gasoline. Bottles of water. A first aid kit.

X closes the back doors. Elle climbs over the seats to pull herself into the front, and reaches over to unlock the passenger door for X.

"I should stay down."

Elle nods, and sticks the key in the ignition. X crouches as much as she can in the passenger seat as the van's headlights come on, and Elle tugs on the gear shift, barely glancing back as she reverses, and then pulls out, slamming it back to drive as they make their way toward the exit.

The barriers and garage door had been destroyed. It's twilight by now, a dim blue light slipping into the garage through the broken door. Once certain X is out of sight, Elle doesn't bother trying to take out the last two guards at the entrance – they appear preoccupied with looking through the wreckage of the scene, in any case. She slams her foot down on the acceleration.

Her eyes don't leave the road, her hands gripping the wheel tightly, as X pulls herself up into the passenger seat. It stays this way in the minutes that follow, as she makes several sharp turns, and, finally, slows down slightly. Headlights appear in the rearview mirror as the van slides into a highway lane.

Finally, X asks, "It is okay?"



Again, Elle nods.