He was a monster. Fully and truly. Even without the blood on his hands, and he could no longer escape that. Or the anger, or the horror, or-

In any case. Eponine was fast, but Don was quicker, having learned his lesson from his encounter with Joan. He leans to the side, avoiding most of the sand with ease.

And if she ran? Well, shell, he was going after her. He had to kill her, after all.