Michael and Ashley stared in shock and loathing at Souther's mutilated body… the floor… the walls… themselves. At last they turned toward the front of the diner.
Framed in the opening where the large window had been were two young boys. Thin gray wisps of smoke curled from the over-heated barrels of the assault rifles they held in their hands. Behind them, on the sidewalk in the rain, lay an old BMX bike and a rusty beach cruiser — spoked wheels still spinning.
The taller of the two boys looked hardly more than a ragged savage — his eyes dark, his face gaunt, his hair matted. A coal black, rain-soaked overcoat hung on him like a heavy blanket thrown over a tombstone. The front of the coat draped open, revealing a crimson rose that bloomed in the center of the large white bandage wrapping his chest.
Ashley was stunned. Tears welled in her eyes and her hand moved to her mouth. " Aaron? " she said, but he was oblivious.
She stepped through the window and went to her son.
"Aaron?" she said, softly. "Aaron, honey — it's me… it's Mommy." She carefully removed the rifle from his hands and laid it on the sidewalk. Then she took him gently in her arms and held him.
"I'm sorry," Aaron said at last, his voice soft and hoarse.
"Shhh," she said, her eyes flooding with tears. "No apologies, okay? I love my little boy. I love him with all my heart."
Aaron buried himself in his mother's warmth and cried the deeply mournful cry of a long lost boy come home.
– Willy stood alone, staring unblinking at Souther's broken body through smudged glasses. The diner's neon OPEN sign lay in pieces among the shards of glass at his feet.
Michael went over and knelt next to him on the sidewalk. He took the rifle and set it carefully aside, and then he rested his hand on the boy's shoulder and spoke softly to him. "Willy — it's Michael
… It's over… you're safe, now."
Willy was struck mute.
Michael tried to appear lighthearted. "I think we better get the heck out of here before the cops come," he said. "Is that all right with you, Willy?"
Willy looked up at Michael and nodded.
"Stay right here and don't move," Michael said. "I'll be right back."
Michael collected the two rifles and stepped into the diner.
Aaron followed him inside.
– Michael laid the firearms on the counter, then reached in and used a towel to pick up a pan full of hot oil, which he poured over the guns, coating them completely.
Aaron walked over to Souther's grisly corpse and knelt next to it. Then he calmly went through the pockets until he found what he was looking for: the precious photo of his mother and father together in the alpine meadow.