Saturday Fiction Contest for Between the Lines via LM Stull

It happened so suddenly, but the ripple effect will have long lasting effects. I can still see my darling daughter as she waved to me from the top of the slide at the park. Then my whole world tipped on its axis. I still feel off balance as I sit in my white, unmarked van on this residential street. She was only six. Her birthday party is still fresh in my mind. Why her? Why me? Is there some random act of savagery and murder which roams the planet like a ghost? Revenge is a meal best served cold. I thought as I looked through the scope of my high powered rifle towards the window on the 3rd floor walk up. Night after night I have waited here. That judge should be next, I thought. He let the killer walk on a technicality. Something about not reading him his miranda rights in spanish or something the paper had said. Luckily for me my friend works at the court house. She gave me the killers address. Maybe he was walking around a free man now but he will draw his last breath soon. My daughter deserves that at least. The funeral had been last week. The small coffin had seemed so small as they lowered it into the ground. There was not a dry eye in the group of mourners, Even the cops who captured the killer were there and they were trying to hold themselves together. They had run the killer down on foot as he and a group of gang bangers raced off from the park. Another drive by shooting takes a young girls life, the papers had said. People would read the article and shake their heads and say "what a shame". But nothing ever gets done about the drive by shootings. People are afraid of the gang bangers. Me? I am going to take one of em out tonight. Send a message to the rest of them that there is a payday coming to those who are above the law. There was a guard in a wife beater t shirt sitting on the stoop outside the walk up. He was smoking and drinking from a bear can. If he reacts to the shooting as I hoped he would, he will get one too. Right between the eyes. I have been practicing at the gun range and could hit the target every time. Keep it tight. Breath. My instructor said. I watched the window expectantly and this time I was rewarded with a visual. The killer leaned out the window and said something to the guard. They laughed. Pop. Pop. He fell. If two bullets to his chest didn't get him the fall did I thought. The guard ran to the body and pointed his pistol at the van. Pop. Pop. Down he went. Later as I threw the rifle off the east river bridge, the adrenaline was surging through my body like electricity. I dove in after.