He hears the voices of the last two people he wanted to run into: Eponine, the girl who thinks her life isn't worth anything at all, and Sigma, the man who couldn't protect her any better than he could protect himself from a Victor and a zombie. R feels his insides curdle. Even the maggots infesting his guts go still.

He should turn around and shuffle away before he makes it worse by opening his mouth and groaning. Maybe it's his imagination or maybe Eva senses he's getting cold feet - her arm tightens around his. Unable to put together the brain cells to extricate himself, R resigns himself to facing two of his victims. Eponine sounds like crap and the old man doesn't sound much better.

"Rrggh - " he pauses, tries again, trying to enunciate that one syllable. "Rrrr. Help-ing...Eva."

The stench of illness, dried and fresh puke, and blood fills the air, wafting out as he peers in. Does Eva not know their gory little history together?

R struggles to hold his breath, that urge to inhale the scent that tells him that these two would be easy prey, a red signal pulsing in his frontal lobe. He's here to help, he reminds himself. Helping doesn't involve lurching in there and biting out Eponine's neck.