Unfortunate for her, Barbara was not the last.

As she stumbled down the broken avenues, fleeing or searching or simply waiting for her absolution, a shadow fell in behind her. As silent and dark as Death itself.

He hadn't forgotten the way she'd escaped, all agile limbs, up onto the rooftops. The scent of her fear like a beacon in the dark. A promise just out of reach.

Somehow, her return now, seemed almost like fate. A reaffirmation that everything was going to plan.