She sees the shadow of broad shoulders first, their shape familiar enough, even through the fog and the darkness and the trees, that she asks an uncertain, startled, "Red?" before she has time to think about it.

Is it -- ? If it is, why isn't he saying anything; he's all right; if it was him, he'd say something; where the righteous hell has he been --

A split second after saying the name, Liz, beginning to frown, lets fire coil up around her forearm, flames rising higher above her fingertips.