Mohinder wasn't really comfortable with sleeping with a dead person so close. Zane was right about the likelihood of either of them being attacked, but stranger things had happened. Mohinder nodded anyway and followed Zane into the next room, shutting the door as quietly as possible behind them both. He stole one last glance at the person wrapped in the blanket and let the door click. It didn't lock so he moved a chair that had had all of the stuffing ripped out of it in front of the handle. It would door little good other than giving him some peace of mind.

"Who do you think that is?" Out of sight, but not out of mind. If Zane didn't answer, though, Mohinder would carry on with his guesses.

Zane had to have learned by now that as nice as Mohinder's voice was, listening to him natter on about everything under the sun was as tedious and monotonous as the snow.