Day-to-Day
Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Red Eye!
Chapter Twenty
"Hurry," Jackson urged.
He dragged Kyra along, yanking her down the hallways and out of the building and into the parking lot. She was too weak and drained to fight him or to walk upon her own two feet. She was dependent on him. He knew that time was of importance. If they could make it to his car, then Kyra could be saved. He had a large medical supply in the trunk and he could surely save her life.
The world suddenly became rather still and silent as a deafening gunshot rent the air.
Jackson groaned suddenly.
"Dad? Are you hurt?" Kyra's frightened voice asked.
Jackson fell to the ground and pulled her down with him. A red stain was rapidly spreading across his heaving chest. She cried out in pain from the fall. She watched his blue eyes flicker around; searching for her.
"Jack…" he whispered to her.
"Dad, don't die…daddy…"
Kyra was suddenly frightened. All the hatred that she had once felt for her father was gone—disappeared into the sunlight that enveloped them both. He had saved her life that day. He actually cared about her. They both blamed the other for what happened, but there was no denying that some bond held them together. They were all that was left for each other.
"Jackie, stay safe, okay? Promise me…"
"Daddy…no, don't die. Please!"
He gave his daughter a sad smile and then his blue eyes closed. She sobbed and then knew what she had to do. She was after all, her father's daughter. She was a Rippner and they were always avenged. It had taken fifteen years for closure and revenge to be achieved following Lisa's murder, and now she would take her father's revenge that same day.
Kyra reached into Jackson's jacket and found a small gun hidden away. She had heard the rumors that he was a lousy shot, but she was the opposite. She was rather talented when it came to weapons.
"Good riddance, Rippner," spat an assassin, a woman.
She looked up from the cold gun in her hand. Standing in front of her, a smoking gun resting upon her right hip, was a smiling woman. An assassin—sent to kill her father and possibly her as well. The killer's straight blonde hair was tied back in a no-nonsense braid. Her trim figure was reminiscent of Kyra's own.
"You killed him! You killed my father!" screamed Kyra, tightening her grip on the gun. It was reassuring and comforting to have the metallic weapon in her grasp.
"No, my dear, he killed himself. He was too weak. He made his own end."
"He's not weak! He's stronger than you!"
Jackson's murderer laughed—an almost musical sound and far too pretty to be coming from such a sinful person.
She was familiar…yet something was different. Her hair…it was a different color.
"Mom…" gasped Kyra in shock, dropping the gun on the pavement.
A second gunshot ripped through the air and Kyra collapsed beside her father, her breaths coming in gasps. The assassin came closer, aiming the gun at Kyra's head, planning to finish her off.
But the final shot never came.
All Kyra heard was her voice saying, "What?" into an earpiece before everything turned to darkness.
She knew though, despite what she had known and what she had believed that her instincts were correct.
Lisa Reisert had risen from the grave…only to murder Jackson Rippner.
A few days earlier…
"Grandpa Joe?" Kyra called out as she entered the quiet house. "Grandpa? Are you home?"
There was no answer. She bent down and reached into the top of her right boot. She unsheathed the knife and was instantly relaxed and poised for any possible attack. Something did not seem right.
"Grandpa?"
He had to be at home…he rarely ever left the house. He was always waiting for her. Ever since Lisa's death exactly fifteen years ago, he had always been there. It had not done anything to stop her from getting into minor trouble.
He had not the slightest clue how violent she was. All she knew was that she was just like her father. Every time she did something bad, she was reminded of him. He was responsible for her mother's murder, but that was all she knew. He also did not know of her suicidal tendencies and her increasingly unstable mind.
"Grandpa?"
She searched the bottom level of the house. There were no signs of him or of a struggle. Kyra headed up the back stairs and gasped loudly when she reached the second floor. Lying upon the floor, still as death, was Joseph Reisert.
"Grandpa! Shit!"
She knelt down and checked his pulse. There was none. He was already dead.
Kyra leaned back against the wall, sobbing. He was all that she had left. Her father had abandoned her and her mother was dead. Now, he was dead as well.
Clutched in his left had a leather-covered journal. She pried it from his cold fingers as rigor mortis began to set in—he had been dead for some time. How long, she did not know. She opened the journal's cover and saw a few hand-written notes in three different styles.
Lisa Henrietta Reisert (died August 18th, 2008)Jackson Rippner (presumed dead)
Jacqueline Kyra Reisert Rippner (born March 10th, 2008)For Jack… so you might learn the truth.
JR
Kyra slammed the journal shut. She was forbidden to read this journal. Joe had spoken of it often and insisted that she could have it one day. She knew that she would have to read it, but now was not the time.
She stood up and walked into her bedroom. She picked up the phone and walked towards the window. She dialed 911 as she surveyed the backyard, her knife still in her hand. She saw what looked to be a blonde-haired woman, but ignored it as an operator picked up.
Author's Notes:
I thought it would be interesting to throw in how Kyra acquired the journal and Joe's death somewhat. Of course, this chapter has the first of several twists. The next chapter has another twist or two as well. Enjoy and thanks so much for the reviews!