Claire's legs tensed beneath her as the ground froze over and immediately, she glared up at her pursuer. Sure, she was still scared as all hell, but everything was a flood now; the memories, the hatred, the fear, the running...she was grateful that he couldn't read her thoughts, because it was somewhat soothing that he couldn't know the full extent of her hysteria. Except for the racing heart bit. Refusing to speak to him, she looked left and right to see if, by chance, help was near by.
But no such luck.
She knew it was useless, that she would get no father than centimeters before Sylar would be on her, but Claire refused to just stand there, and so she did in fact try to make a break for it, dropping to all fours to crawl across the ice, because it would provide more friction than shoes.