"Hazmat," Sylar guessed, slinking over to the window to look outside, his ears straining. He stuck to the shadows, just in case one of them decided to turn around and look in his direction, and texted back, rather than risking being caught by talking. They might be looking for survivors.

Like Elle, he was fairly certain that he could take care of the guard -- they'd never see him coming -- but did he want to? Or did they want to, hopefully, be rescued and taken somewhere with less risk of falling down around them.

He glanced back at Mohinder, frowning.