A Plan to Ride away

The wind howled around us as we rode down the highway, me on one bike, and my best friend and partner in crime Joey on the bike behind me. We've been riding almost non-stop for three days straight, getting down right exhausted. We needed rest, but we had to keep going, had to get away... We decided to stop by a diner call Cindy's cafe, a small little joint with the embers of night life and the early birds all gathered. We sat down, the waitress took our order and we sat there in almost absolute miserable silence till she brought our food. Then five words escaped Joey's mouth as if even if he was in a daze and this was a dream, "We actually killed my pops". I looked at him and all I could say was, "Yeah". We killed his dad four days ago and it's still fresh in our minds. "It's not like he didn't have it coming...", I said quietly, trying to say what I knew we were both thinking. His death was on our hands. Joey grimaced, "I know he was an a abusive prick, but it feels...wrong". He sat there picking at his food, I could see the guilt eating him but what could I say?