1/26/05

Six months…

We made it six months without incident.

I guess I should back up and lay a little ground work. Heather started first grade a few months ago. Unlike kindergarten, I couldn't talk the city into letting me home-school her again this year. New laws are making it harder and harder for parents to home-school their kids, I suppose. My Master's in English is not enough of a degree to provide her with a round education. And with how much I work, I can't afford to put in the time for things like Math and Science.

I enrolled her under the name "Heather Mills." Cybil was kind enough to provide us with another set of official documents from her boyfriend in records back in Brahms.

Everything was going great. I got a promotion at work, from a stocker to a cashier. Better hour, better wages. I was able to work during the day while she was in school. Then her sixth Birthday rolled around. She had made a few friends at school and wanted to have one of those little sleep over things girls like to have.

Honestly, I wasn't all the comfortable having four extra small girls in the house over night but I don't want to cripple her social development. I know she is not exactly a well-adjusted little girl. Her only company is our neighbor who occasionally babysits her and me. She is a child that is used to being around adults.

So I relented and allowed her to invite two girls over from her class. Angelica and Sarah. I met with both their mothers on the Thursday before the party and they mostly wanted to talk with Heather's mother so I had to go through the usual story there.

Jean passed away. Cancer. Heather was only six months old.

Eventually both women dropped the subject and we exchanged phone numbers.

That Friday, I picked up both girls after school and took them out to get the last of the party supplies. I let them pick out whatever they wanted, which ended up being a lot more than I bargained for. Keeping track of one kid is hard enough but three? Forget it. I was a frustrated and may have begun to get a little short with them. Heather picked up on it faster than I thought and helped coral her friends.

After that, we went by the bakery and got a small cake.

The party itself went by just fine. Pizza and cake, then presents. Angelica's mother bought Heather a nice scarf, hat and mitten set while Sarah's mother got her a few coloring and activity books. I gave her my gift, a few new outfits and a sketchbook. Same one I got Cheryl at that age.

I left them stay up as long as they wanted. No point in trying to get them to bed at a normal time. Heather broke out her tower of Disney movies and that kept them occupied while I went to bed. I had work the next day and needed the rest after the grocery store trip.

I was out as soon as my head hit the pillow. I suppose it was about two in the morning when Heather woke me up. Her small hand pressed over him lips while she chanted, in whispers "Daddy… daddy someone is at the door. He is trying to get in." Took me a moment to register her words, then through the small, quiet apartment I could hear the doorknob jiggling.

Pulling the loaded 9mm Bereta from my nightstand, I instructed her to go to her usual place. She knows the routine, I've drilled it into her head since before she could even fathom the idea of a stranger breaking in. Her scurried little footsteps circled around my bed. She pulled the blanket off the foot of the bed, wrapped it around herself, making sure to cover her head, then wormed her way under the edge of the bed, squeezing between the two footlockers under there. Metal footlockers that would stop anything short of an anti-material round.

Toe-heeling my way through the livingroom, I kicked something solid on the floor. In the blue haze from the TV I suddenly remembered the other two girls. Angelica was on the ground and Sarah was on the couch… or it was the other way around. Either way, both were out cold. I feared waking them for they would panic. They were not trained like Heather. They wouldn't listen to orders. Liabilities at best.

I couldn't leave them there either.

Setting down the gun on the dinning room table, I grabbed both girls up and carted them off to my bedroom. I laid them on the ground beside the bed, then ripped the blankets off my bed to drape over them.

Back in the living room I heard the lock turn over. Whoever it was, had gotten in. The door pushed open, stopped with a jerk by the chain at the top and bottom. Always the same routine in every house we living in. No less than five locks, two which Heather had to be able to reach and use.

Slinking through the dark, I made it almost to the gun when the person behind the door threw their weight against the door. The chain anchors splintered in the door.

Another hit. I made it to the gun.

A final hit and he was in.

I aimed toward the head, the guy was about my height but was much more agile. He didn't even need to look at me to realize I was there. He lunged. I fired, the bullet must had clipped his shoulder or upper arm because I heard him cry out but it didn't slow him down any. He hit me square in the center. My back hit the table, legs going out from under our combined weight.

The fall took the air from my lungs. I didn't need to breath to fight at that exact moment. I used the butt of the gun to bash the back of his neck a few times. As I did that, he wrapped a pair of beefy hands around my neck.

Both my legs were pinned under him, completely useless. I balled my fist and landed a hard hit at his temple. It must have dazed him because his grip loosened enough for me to finally draw in a breath.

As I did, my hearing came back. I hadn't realized until it returned that I had lost it momentarily. From the bedroom, I could hear crying. So had he.

He pulled his arms free of my neck and brought his elbow crashing into my face. I felt the cartilage in my nose give way immediately. It was my turn to be dazed. I laid there, blinking hard as blood began to rush from my nose.

The guy went right to the source of the crying in my room. I kicked out at his feet as her rushed by me heading towards the door. I could hear a girl crying, screaming at him to let her go. I wanted to believe it wasn't Heather but I couldn't be sure. She may have crawled out of her hiding place to comfort her friends.

I rolled over, found the gun, aimed and fired the entire clip at his retreating legs. I may have hit him… may not have. Didn't seem to slow him down either way. He bolted around the corner. I got up and chased after him, limping as a sharp pain in my back began to build. I got into the apartment hallway to see people filing out of their doors. Pushing pass them I gave chase after the guy, still holding the gun hoping maybe I had counted wrong and there was one more bullet in the chamber.

Following him to the parking lot, he ran between several cars. Out on the street, a car sat idling. He was in the car before I made it to the sidewalk. The car took off. I aimed and fired at the tires but the gun clicked uselessly.

He was gone.

Heather was gone.

Cheryl was gone… again.

In blind panic I ran back to the apartment, praying to whatever guardian force that may have been watching over me that I was wrong.

I made it to the doorway and saw Heather there in the middle of the livingroom, phone to her ear.

"Yes, my daddy is back. Here daddy. They want to talk to you." She held out the receiver to me. I fell to my knees, crying as I grasped her to my chest. I could hear the 911 operator on the line calling out to me but all I could do was hold her.

When the police finally arrived I had to explain the entire event, as well as face Angelica's parents at the police station the next day. I recalled every detail I could but I knew that they were not going to get their daughter back. That guy, I had seen a mark when he had tackled me. Some of those symbols from that town. He had been part of the Cult. He had taken Angelica because he thought it was Heather. Angelica had dark hair just as Heather had. Sarah on the other hand, had blonde hair.

I've decided to start dying Heather's hair. My heart goes out to Angelica and her parents. I've been instructed that I cannot leave the city while the case is open. Next time one of them comes for Heather, I won't hesitate to aim for the head.