"A few," she says. It's even, steady. There's something almost comforting in the faint shudder of the walls and the stairs beneath them - they are doomed, but they aren't lying down and going out quiet. "Like us, trying to do as much damage as they can on their way out."

She glances at him sidelong, and it's a moment before she admits, "No. They will understand." There's still a dull throb of regret in her chest. She's been the one left behind; it hadn't been her intention to inflict it on anyone else.

"Did you?"