It wasn't until much later that I found out what had happend, as we waited to die in the fridge. As the crooks were going through the safe, one of them had decided to look around the kitchen a little more. That is when he saw the two cooks that were hiding behind the line. I guess he tried to spray them with bullets, but his gun jammed. That's when he pistol whipped them and threw them into the fridge with the rest of us.

I have no idea how long we all were in there. Al was on the floor of the fridge with his head in the woman customer's lap, slowly fading. I can't remember who initiated it, but we all decided that they must have left and we had to get help for Al. I don't remember much except for running to the office, seeing the havoc there and trying not to touch anything except the phone. The 911 operator's voice sounded shocked as she repeated the info I somehow managed to relay to her, I know my hand gripped the phone like steel and when I saw the police round the corner with their guns drawn and my own fear mirrored on their faces, I realized that it was finally over.

They made me walk by Scott's body again to exit the kitchen. The pool of blood hide widened so much, I knew he had bled to death as we cowered in the fridge. The coroner was already there, zipping his body into a bag with no ceremony, no tenderness. The sight of this resonates in my head even now.

As we walked past the bar, I saw my drink sitting on the still - condensation made a pool of water around the glass's base, Al was not in pain when he made that for me, how long had it been sitting there? I grabbed that drink and brought it with me to the table where the detectives interviewed me for an hour straight. I don't remember calling my coworker, but there she was, behind the yellow tape that encircled the front door now, calling my name with tears in her eyes.