Somehow, despite the contents of that reassurance, Johanna relaxes when he says it. Her expression has a note of gratitude mixed in with the lingering sadness. She shakes her head before speaking, answering the question ahead of herself.

"No," she replies and sounds more than a touch disappointed in herself. "I couldn't bring myself to kill him. I had known him too long--he was the only one left that I had known."

She sighs, then and sits back, rests her hands on her knees and looks at him. The bed creaks beneath her.

"I ran instead. I do not know what happened to him, whether he was killed for breaking the quarantine, or if he fled himself, but I know he knows me and hates me.

"If anyone lives who remembers me, it is him, and so...if he does...I am hunted."