Test Pilot's Daughter: Revenge Read online

  The lone exception to Christina’s cheerleader rule was Heather Daniels. How could she ever forget their first meeting? Heather had told the story so many times, she could repeat it verbatim.

  * * *

  Right after “Amazon Girl” came to school, she seemed to be having a hard time fitting in. Towering over the other kids, they teased her unmercifully. I couldn’t help but notice a certain sadness in her eyes. It was the day before Thanksgiving break. I was talking to my friends in the hall, and I saw some boys stick something on her back. It was a big paper sign:

  AMAZONS SUCK

  GREEN WEENIES

  The boys snickered and recruited others to fall in as they trailed behind. I ran up and grabbed the new girl by the arm. I peeled the sign off and handed it to her. Amazon turned beet-red.

  Cupping my hand over her ear, I whispered, “Let’s scare the shit out of these wimps.” As I turned to face the boys, I yelled, “Which one of you big strong men want to be first to get your ass kicked. . .by a girl?”

  I grabbed the nearest boy with two hands full of hair and yanked his head down, bending him over like a jackknife. Amazon backed off and leveraged all her strength to punt him like a football. The lad went flying across the hall with a look of horror, squealing at the top of his lungs. The rest of the boys panicked and scattered like a covey of quail. Everyone broke into cheers, and we laughed our asses off.

  I told her, “You know they call you ‘Amazon?’ What the hell is your name anyway?”

  “Christina Matthews.”

  “Listen, those guys are little shits. C’mon, I’ll walk you to the bus.”

  * * *

  Heather came from a very wealthy family but showed no signs of being a typical rich snob. Her dad owned three banks in town and a lot of Seattle real estate. Her mother was a prominent attorney for Boeing. Even at age thirteen, Heather was the living clone of a “Barbie doll.” She was gorgeous, perfectly proportioned with long, blonde hair. Mature for her age, she already had the body of an adult. With deep blue eyes, she was by far the best looking girl in school.

  By the time they were seniors, Heather, Jessica and Christina epitomized a trio of camaraderie, and they did everything together. On her seventeenth birthday, Heather’s dad gave her a brand new Jeep Wrangler. Since it had a standard transmission, Christina had to teach her how to shift gears. Heather named the jeep “Hot Tamale” and referred to herself, Jessica and Christina as the “Three Amigos.” The Three Amigos cruising in the Hot Tamale soon became an icon at Lewis and Clark High.

  From the view of the boys who drooled over her, Heather was the ultimate “sweet thing.” She was known for a great singing voice and hung with local rock bands. While Christina and Jessica hardly dated at all, Heather went out with lots of guys and shared her most intimate feelings. She was a walking encyclopedia of carnal knowledge and gladly tutored her friends in the top-secret curriculum of sex-ed.

  On the night of their senior prom, Christina and Jessica refused to stay at home. They simply dressed up in fancy gowns and went together. This was a special night for Heather too. She had a date with the lead singer of a local band, Billy Walton. They had been dating for months, and she decided it was about time to find out what real sex was all about. The next day she described every detail to her friends who giggled, all ears.

  “Weird,” she chuckled. “It hurt some at first, but not all that bad. I was pretty nervous. If we do it again, I might enjoy it.”

  “What do you mean?” Jessica asked with a frown. “I thought it was supposed to be the greatest thing of all time?”

  “Well, you can’t expect it to be that great. . .not the first time,” Heather replied.

  “Did you use protection?” Christina had a motherly tone.

  “What? You think I’m stupid? Of course!”

  “So? Did you see stars?” Jessica wondered.

  “Well, it all happened pretty fast, all I could see was a lot of blue hair.”

  They cackled nervously.

  Christina looked her in the eye and said, “So then, as a woman of great experience, do you recommend casual sex?”

  “Well, I wouldn’t save it forever, girl, but I wouldn’t screw the first guy you meet either. You’d probably be smart to put it off awhile,” Heather advised, “at least until the right guy comes along.”

  “Oh yeah?” Jessica asked. “And how do you know who the right guy is?”

  “Don’t worry, you’ll know,” Heather said with an air of great wisdom.

  Christina couldn’t resist. “So your advice is we wait until we meet a smelly guitar player with blue hair, a big tattoo and a nose ring?”

  Jessica doubled over laughing.

  “Real funny, biii-aaatch, really hilarious,” Heather snarled.

  Chapter Four

  When her dad said he was going out of town for a few days and asked her to “hold down the fort,” Christina was excited to have the house to herself. It was a Friday night, so she asked Heather and Jessica to sleep over. Heather agreed but Jessica’s mom wouldn’t let her go.

  “Caught red-handed stealing cigarettes from her purse,” Jessica moaned. “Worst possible punishment. . .grounded in the same house with Roy. . .fate worse than death.”

  Worried about the inevitable, Christina advised her friend to lock her bedroom door and spend the evening reading and listening to music.

  Christina and Heather had a great time sipping wine “borrowed” from the Matthew’s refrigerator. It was late and they had just seen a bloody horror movie. Christina worried about nightmares and felt it might be time for true confessions. A little high on vino, she decided to break her long held oath of secrecy.

  “I don’t like to talk about this, Heather, but just in case I wake up screaming tonight. . .”

  “Screaming?”

  “Yeah. I don’t want you to panic.”

  “What are you saying?” Heather twitched her nose.

  “Ever since mom died, I’ve had some bad dreams. Lately they’re getting worse.”

  “Dreams?” Heather sounded curious. “Tell me one.”

  “Don’t think so? You’ll think I’m nuts?”

  “I already know you’re nuts, biii-aaatch,” Heather laughed. “So tell me!”

  “Well, okay, but you must promise to keep it secret. I’ve never even mentioned this to my dad.”

  “Pinky-swear on the Bible. Now what’s your big, bad nightmare?”

  “I have this dream about turning into an eagle.”

  “That sounds pretty lame, so what’s the big deal?”

  “I’m on a cliff when a dove comes flying by, right in front of me. I swoop down for the kill and plunge my beak into its head. It makes this high pitched squeal and starts to grow right before my eyes. Then it turns into a man.”

  “You’re kidding. Too weird.”

  Christina closed her eyes, thoughts drifted through her subconscious searching for details of the disturbing images. She continued in a trance-like gaze, “Yeah, that’s it. It’s a man flying an open cockpit airplane, and I show no mercy. I pounce on him and grab both shoulders with my huge talons. He struggles, but I pull him out of that plane and peck away at his brains.”

  Heather bit at a fingernail.

  Christina was feeling better by the minute. It felt so good to share her burden. She paid no heed to the terror building in Heather’s eyes. Speaking louder in a more piercing voice, she went on. “Blood’s shooting everywhere, and he screams, ‘Help me, help me!’ I squeeze harder and harder until. . .”

  “Until what?”

  “He finally stops moving. Finally, I swoop down and drop him on the ground. When he rolls over, I realized it isn’t just any man; it’s. . .” she paused again and looked directly into Heather’s wide eyes, “it’s my dad.”

  “Holy shit! Girl,” Heather gasped, “what happens then?”

  “This is the weird part. I turn back into a girl. I’m standing there naked beside his body, holding out my hands. They�
��re covered in blood. I can feel it running down my arms.” She continued in a soft voice, lowering her eyes. “I usually wake up screaming.”

  “God Almighty! Ever thought about seeing a shrink? I’d be happy to refer you to mine.”

  “You don’t see a shrink.” She couldn’t believe Heather had never mentioned this before. After all, she’d disclosed everything else.

  “Well, I do see one from time to time. Don’t think I need to; it’s just that my parents feel guilty about working all the time. They want to make sure I’m okay, that’s all. For God’s sake, let’s change the subject. You’re scaring the hell out of me.”

  “I tried to warn you.”

  “No, I’m glad you told me; it’s just a little schizzo that’s all. Now, tell me a good dream. What do you plan to do with your life?”

  Christina calmed down. The wine seemed to enhance her confidence. “I don’t know exactly how long it’ll take, but one day, I’m gonna be an astronaut. I’m sure of it.”

  “Why?” Heather inquired. “Astronauts don’t make any money. Don’t you know? They’re government employees, for God’s sake.”

  “Nothing to do with money, Heather. Since I was a kid my dad has talked about the astronaut program. I’ve always dreamed of traveling in space. Eileen Collins, the first female Commander, is my hero. If she can do it, I can too.”

  “Well, I guess that makes me pretty shallow. I’ve always dreamed of marrying some rich hunk and joining a bridge club,” she chuckled.

  “Don’t you want some adventure in your life? Life’s too short to spend all your time taking care of kids.”

  “Sure, I like adventure, but it all costs money. I’m going to need a lot of cash to sustain my lifestyle. Don’t wanna end up in a trailer park ducking bullets.”

  “Come on Heather. Your family’s loaded. They’d never let you live in a trailer. Your daddy wouldn’t have it. Don’t you think it’d be better to marry for love?”

  “But what if I fall in love with some poor bastard?”

  Christina was getting a real buzz. Her mind was struggling to formulate a reasonable answer to Heather’s stupid question when the phone rang so loudly it made her jump. Who the hell. . .at this hour? Her imagination went into high gear. The first thought was of her dad. What would I do if he had a plane crash? A cold chill seized her spine. The phone rang again with a piercing scream.

  “What are you waiting for?” Heather yelled. “Answer the stupid phone, for

  Christ’s sake!”

  With shaking hands, she slowly picked up the receiver and said, “Hello?”

  “Christina!” said a female voice.

  “Jessica? Is that you? What’s the matter?”

  “Roy. Knocked my mom out cold. Trying to get me.”

  “What? Where the hell are you?” Christina asked in a panic.

  “Locked in my room, but he’s tryin’ to get in to. . .uh . . .well. Shit, gonna break the door!” she gasped.

  Christina could hear banging in the background. Foul words were barely discernable.

  “Open this door you little bitch. Wanna show you somepin’.”

  “Can you get out a window?” Christina asked.

  “No, they’re sealed. Maybe he’s too drunk to break it. I’ll be okay.”

  “Call 9-1-1 and get the police over there fast,” Christina said.

  “Can’t. Said he’d kill us.”

  “Listen, do you still have that video camera, the one from Journalism class?”

  “Yeah, but. . .”

  “Put it in the corner and start recording in case he breaks through. Might get some evidence.”

  “But I’m too scared,” she answered in a wavering tone.

  “Goddammit, Jessica, listen to me! Do what I say, and get back on the phone.”

  It took almost a full minute. Christina heard her pick up the phone.

  “God, Christina, I’m so scared.”

  “Listen. Move something big in front of the door. I’m on my way.”

  Before Jessica could answer, Christina hung up the phone and ran to her dad’s closet. She found his 45 Colt revolver and made sure it was loaded. She held the barrel and pointed the grip toward Heather.

  “Here, hold this,” she said.

  “I can’t hold it. . .it’s. . .it’s a gun!” Heather didn’t have much choice as Christina shoved it in her hand. She held it out away from her body, like it was about to explode.

  “That hammer is the safety,” Christina said, pointing. “Don’t pull it back until you’re ready to shoot somebody.”

  “What? Are you crazy? I can’t shoot somebody!”

  Christina ignored her and ran for her room. She pulled her treasured double-barreled 410 out of its case. Dropping double-ought buckshot into each chamber, she stuffed more shells into the pockets of her jeans.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Heather protested.

  “Get your keys, let’s go. Jessica’s in trouble, no time to waste. I’ll explain on the way.”

  They ran to Heather’s Jeep and took off, tires squealing. Christina figured at top speed they could make it in no more than nine or ten minutes. She hoped like hell they’d get there in time.

  * * *

  Jessica shivered as Pitts banged the door with something heavy. He was a big man and quite capable of tearing it off the frame. As splinters flew, she noticed the bright red “Record” light on the front of the camera. I’m gonna nail that bastard!

  The door bowed. Jessica had no doubt what would happen if he got in. She was as good as dead. She retrieved a butcher knife from under the pillow and held it behind her back with a firm grip. Pieces started flying off the doorframe.

  “Open this goddam door right now, or you’ll be sorry!”

  “Roy, I’m gonna call the police.”

  “You do, and I’ll kill yore ma afore they can git here.”

  With a loud Crack, a huge chunk broke free. His big hand snaked in and unlocked the door. With all his weight, he muscled the furniture out of the way and stumbled into her room. It was a horrid sight. He stood there grinning ear to ear, leering like a madman. Without a shirt his hairy gut protruded. Drooling with lust, his round face was contorted and pitted with acne. Unshaven and quite dirty from a part time construction job, Pitts was a frightful picture. Under different circumstances his hair would’ve been comical, dangling in a tangled mess. His bloodshot eyes slowly traveled the full length of her body, and he grunted like a pig in the trough.

  Frozen in fear, Jessica shivered in her nightshirt. Come on, girl, stay cool. Gotta do this. Gotta kill this bastard.

  “You been a bad little girl, Jessy, and your new daddy’s gonna make ya pay.” He took a step in her direction.

  She put out her left hand. “Please! Don’t hurt me,” she begged.

  “Now you just take that little nighty off,” he said shaking his head. “It won’t hurt none.”

  “Come on, Roy, you’re my step-father, remember? Can’t do this.”

  “Do anything I damn well please. I always do, and I will.”

  “Listen, you’ll go to jail for. . .” she could barely choke out the words, “for raping your own daughter.”

  A look of rage swept across his ugly face, and he balled up a tight fist, waving it in her direction. “You’ll be keepin’ that little mouth a yorn shut. Even hint to anyone, and I’ll kill you and your ma and burn this place to the ground.”

  “I don’t believe you, Roy. You’re just bluffing.” Gotta buy some time, she thought.

  “We’ll just see. Bet I can kill you in a heartbeat,” he said with fire in his eyes.

  She was running out of ideas. She put her hand down and said, “Okay, I’ll tell you what. Just calm down. I’ll give you what you want, if you promise to be gentle.”

  His face lit up in a huge smile. “Now that’s more like it. Enough talk, let’s get down to business.”

  “What’s the rush? We’ve got all night. Let’s talk a little bit.
Now just relax and tell me exactly what you want.”

  “Want ya to get that nighty off, like I tole ya!”

  “Okay, okay, just let me go to the bathroom first.”

  “You ain’t going nowhere.”

  She gripped the knife behind her back, heart pounding. Without warning, he lunged. She raised the weapon and stabbed it toward his chest. He caught her wrist and cut his hand, ripping the knife away. He was bleeding profusely, but he was so drunk he didn’t seem to notice. His hairy paw had a death grip on her wrist.