The whirring sound ceased. Damien looked down and let out a cry, a sweet and desolate wail, as he saw the dead body of Mark lying in the snow, which was slowly turning red from the flow of blood. He ran over to Mark, knelt down and scooped up the frail and lifeless body in his arms, and tried to restore him to life.

Damien's wail of agony carried back to Ann and Richard. When they arrived, they found Damien bending over the lifeless body of his cousin, moaning, 'Mark, oh Mark...'

At the sound of Ann's scream, Damien looked up and jumped back. ‘We were just walking-' he said, '- and he fell! He just-'

'Get back to the house,' Richard yelled. He ran over to Ann, who was kneeling beside the lifeless body of Mark.

Damien started to protest. 'I didn't do anything.'

'Get back to the house, damn you!' Richard was trembling with rage.

Damien turned and started to run in the direction of the house, tears beginning to stream down his face. 'He fell!' he shouted over his shoulder. 'I didn't do anything!' But he kept on running.

Richard turned away from the retreating figure and bent over his wife. Taking her by the shoulders, he lifted her gently from the ground.

When he saw she could stand on her own, he bent down again and picked up the body of his dead son.

Then he stood up and turned to face Ann. There was a look of accusation in his eyes.

Ann shook her head and stammered, 'It wasn't Damien. He didn't-'

She never finished the sentence. Richard turned from his wife and walked away, pressing his face against the bloody face of his lifeless son.

Chapter Twelve

CHAPTER TWELVE

The Thorn family cemetery plot was on the North Shore, not far from the estate. Reginald Thorn was buried there beside his wife; Richard's first wife, Mary, was there too, and Aunt Marion was not far off in a place by herself.

They buried Mark next to his mother.

And one day, Richard Thorn thought, as he stared blankly through the dismal winter drizzle at the gathering around the small gravesite, I will be here, too.

Both Ann and Richard wore black. Damien, standing next to Ann, was dressed simply and appropriately in his navy blue uniform with a black armband around his left arm.

Paul Buher was there, representing Thorn Industries. And Sergeant Neff had arrived with a small honor guard from the Academy. As the coffin was lowered into the grave, the honor guard stood at attention and a lone cadet stepped forward with his bugle and began to play 'Taps.'