Back down the stairs now.
Mission accomplished.
Everyone gets to go home, drink a beer, watch a DVD.
Women are already mourning, keening, ululating, but Chon no longer hears that.
White noise.
He’s almost down the stairs when the kid steps out again.
Chon sees the kid’s innocent black eyes and says,
“Oh, fuck” as the kid reaches inside the waskath and detonates the bomb strapped to his body.
The green world goes red.