Chapter 3

The trees had shed their leaves and carpeted the soil below with yellow and brown. A handful of ravens perched here and there on the branches; puffed their feathers, and braved the cold breeze. Some had turned their heads and stared at Christina. 

 She raised her hands, tightened her grip on the handle of the Ruger revolver, and squeezed the trigger. Another hole close to the center burnt through the white sheet she had pinned on a birch tree. The gunshot echoed in the woods, and the ravens flew away cawing. So far, she had fired five shots and put five holes into the makeshift target.

Behind her, a cabin, made from sturdy logs stood. The elements had left their mark on the wood and darkened the natural color of the walls over time. She went inside for a drink of water. The cabin belonged to her deceased parents, and the gun was her father's. In the hut, he kept his gun and a considerable amount of ammunition for practice. He had built a hideout place under the floor planks for his gun and ammo; it kept them out of sight of any intruders.

Christina drove up to the forest almost weekly to shoot targets and blow off some steam. Over time, she had depleted her father's stash. And now she bought her own the way he did; in bulk when they were on sale. That saved her a lot of money.

 She returned to the birch tree, ripped the paper off the bark, and pinned a new one in its place. After years of practice, she had left most trees around the hut, riddled with bullets. 

 She pulled the trigger and hit the target again.

 Every few minutes the parking lot and the bodies of Tom and Jenny flashed in front of her eyes. But it didn't bother her as much as she expected; she had to kill those two. They didn't leave her another option. Still, last night was the first time she had killed someone, and her peace of mind frightened her. 

 Among the flashbacks, a question lingered. Should she accept Jack's offer? She always wanted to play in a match in Las Vegas. The grand prize was five million dollars. And fifty grand plus expenses bought her a seat at that poker table.

Before last night, despite the penny pinching and all the games she had won, never more than a grand or two remained in her account. Always something came up, and the money disappeared. 

 A few hundred dollars win at the casino, and waitressing didn't buy her way into the big games. The kind of match that made her rich beyond her wildest dreams, and let her retire before thirty. 

 A squirrel popped up on a tree, raised its bushy tail, and chattered loudly. Its large black eyes fixated on her, and they were not happy at all. She felt like a noisy neighbor that had disrupted somebody's afternoon nap. Raising the revolver, she aimed at the chatty animal. The rodent turned to run. But the slug blasted it into the air, and it fell into a pile of leaves. 

She walked to her kill, grabbed its tail, and picked it up. The squirrel was still alive, and its hind leg twitched. 

She didn't want to live the rest of her life dreaming of someday winning big when the opportunity had knocked on her door now.

 But if she lost the money, she had to deal with a loan shark. Fifty grand was no pocket change, and those people killed for that kind of cash. But that was a big if now, wasn't it? 

 If she lost; she usually won. 

One of the ravens returned and sat on a maple tree; under its heft, the branch swung down.

 She wrung the squirrel's neck and dropped it on the ground.

 ***

The lights circled on the dance floor, and a bare-breasted girl hung from a pole, doing all sorts of acrobatics.

 That is quite a sport. It Should be in the Olympics!

Christina was sitting at the bar, nursing a large margarita. She had spent the day in the woods, and eventually sent Jack a text and accepted his offer. He texted her the address of this strip club to meet him around midnight.

 Unlike her, the pole dancer was busty, and her curves bounced when she moved. She wondered if she was up there, naked, anyone would want to see her delicate frame and shove a dollar bill in her glittery pants.

 A few girls in short skirts sat at the bar next to her. Christina wasn't sure if she was a man, they'd let her sit there. 

 A hand touched her shoulder, and she looked back. 

 "Do you want a lap dance?" A girl with deep blue eyes and cascading blonde hair towered over her. She had an eastern European accent.

 "No, thanks." Christina's gaze lingered at her bulging breasts and long legs.

 "I'll be gentle." The girl said. 

 She shook her head and took another sip from her Margarita. The stripper shrugged and left. Her round bottom swung left and right as she strutted across the club to a man's table and sat down. He ordered her a drink.

 Somebody stood next to Christina, and she looked up; it was Jack.

 "That drink's gonna cost him a pretty penny. "He said.

 "Well I wouldn't know. Never bought a stripper a drink before."

 "Well, maybe you should try it."

 "If I want people to rub against me, they do it for free and happily. Heck, they pay me for it." 

Jack smiled and said. "Let's go. Boss will see you now."

 She paid her tab and walked with him. They stopped at a table where a medium-built man sat. A waitress put a glass of whiskey in front of him. He waved his hand at Jack, and he turned around and left without a word.

 The man picked up his liquor and peered at her. "So I hear you're quite the poker champion."

 "I can play." 

 "How do you do that? It must be difficult with just lip-reading."

 "My head moves about a lot. Kind of like a radar dish."

 " Uh-huh. Sit, radar dish!" With his foot, he pushed forward a chair.

She sat down.

 "People call me Morris." He said.

 "My name is Christina." She stretched out her hand. 

"I know your name and a lot more. What do you want?"

"Fifty grand." She put the rejected hand on her lap.

 "Is that so?"

 "Yes." 

 "Hmm. I like your confidence. And I assume you know what happens if you can't pay me back in time with interest?"

 "Cut off one of my fingers?"

 "A finger for fifty grand? No, not at all. I take a finger for a couple of thousands!" He put down the drink and laughed. His laughter made her shiver; he wasn't joking.

 "I can pay you back, with interest." She said after a pause. It was either this or wiping tables and taking people's orders for the rest of her life. Until she was too old to even do that. 

 "Hmm. Very confident. Let's see how far your confidence takes you."