The day had arrived quick and with a harshness to it that chilled to the bone.  Jennifer was in the back of a filthy yellow cab staring directly at the spit-stained partition wishing the drive to the airport was quick and disease free.

She was not a stranger to using public transportation, but this one taxi was basically a living disease on wheels.  Nothing would please her more than making it out of the back of this disgusting piece of machinery.

She walked in the front entrance of the bustling airport with her go bag in hand.  Approaching the check-in counter, the word casual continued to ring through her brain, "I need to check this bag in?  Is that going to be a problem?"

The woman plucking away at the keyboard did not even look up to see who she was about to converse with, "Flight and name please."

The apparition that appeared in front of her was more of a robot than a human in Jennifer's eyes, "Flight 204 headed to Norfolk, Virginia.  Sanders...Jennifer Sanders."

The feverous typing escalated harder and faster, "Sure thing Ms. Sanders.  I can take that for you."                                                                                            

Jennifer tentatively handed the bag over to this stranger.  If it were opened and inspected, that would be it.  The postcard and the knife that was some hard evidence that would easily lead to a conviction.  It was now or never.

The woman tossed the bag on a carousel after applying a large sticker to it.  She looked up finally, her face smooth and plastered with makeup, "Alright, Ms. Sanders, keep this slip with you and proceed to gate twelve.  Boarding begins in ten minutes.  Thank you for choosing Valiant Airlines."

Jennifer departed the unwelcoming counter; ticket and baggage slip in hand.  She slowly navigated her way through the bundles of people, careful to not do anything that would make her stand out like a sore thumb.  She tugged her baseball cap down, covering much of her face, and continued to Gate twelve.

She used a fake last name to register and purchase the ticket, hence why she is flying Valiant Airlines and not one of the major conglomerates.  You tend to get a touch more of a relaxed approach to things when dealing with companies that need the revenue instead of millions in profits.

Sanders was the last name of her fourth kill.  Peter Sanders, the most bland and ordinary name on the face of the planet.  Peter liked to rape women and then blame it on the way they dressed or how they looked at him.  It was a fact; Peter was handsome but not handsome enough to justice a rape or the twenty-nine he committed.  Sanders never served a second in jail as each woman was systematically killed off, one at a time.  Once the police figured out what was happening, there were only three left and they all recanted their statements.

Peter Sanders received the blade sentencing on a snowy cold night.  He screamed and cried knowing this was not something he could kill or rape his way out of, though he tried.  Pleading for his life, "I'll never touch another woman as long as I live!"  Directly after that proclamation, he grabbed at Jennifer in an attempt to miraculously disarm her.  He touched her arm.

With a jovial laugh, "Well, there you go.  Peter Sanders, the jury has voted.  You are now sentenced to death for the rape of twenty-nine innocent women and the murder of twenty-six vibrant lives.  Enjoy the ride; it's going to be a slow painful show."

She thrust the blade in just as she had done three times before.  It slid in and out like a warm knife through a stick of butter.  Through the gurgling, Peter screamed, a scream you would expect from an elderly woman trying to fend off a home invader.  The noise had a purpose, but that purpose would not be served.  Nothing could save him now, even if the police had pulled up and rushed him directly to the hospital.

He died with his tongue hanging from his mouth and tears in his eyes.  It was picturesque.

Just as Jennifer made it to the gate, "Now boarding, Gate twelve, San Diego to Norfolk."  This was it.  This was the moment she solidified the fact that her tradition would be broken and the first time in over eight years she had seen her parents.  There was not a second thought in her mind as she was the first in line to get on the plane.  Once Jennifer made a plan, she executed it to the best of her abilities.

While standing in front of one of the attendants, a huge fuss could be heard behind her.  Loud and precise voices yelled, "Move!  Get out of the way!  Stand aside!"

Never flinching, Jennifer turned and watched as uniformed men ran towards Gate twelve.  They had badges and guns, all the gadgets and methodology that the police had.  The closer they got, the stronger it seemed they were staring at her.

Now only about ten feet away, the men reached out towards Jennifer.  She flinched, shoulders dropping, ready for defeat as the man behind her in line was tackled and handcuffed, "Sir, you aren't flying anywhere today.  Fredrick Anderson, you are under arrest for jumping bond."

Holy goodness, all the air had left Jennifer's body.  Her will to survive vanished, leaving just a shell of a person standing in line to board a plane.  Her entire life had almost led to nothingness, jail for eternity, imagine the filth in that place.

The attendant began scanning tickets now, "Ma'am, looks like you're first.  Congratulations.  Ticket?"  His hair was pristine, not one little brown piece out of place.  His hands were softer than any other man's she had felt before; it was awkward but nothing to make a scene over.  It was time to leave this place and head home to see her parents, her dying Father and crackling voiced Mother.

The flight took off an hour later than scheduled due to the incident with the bail jumper.  It did not matter; tomorrow was the day before Christmas Eve.  Jennifer was in no rush to break her holiday vengeance spree, but it was time to tend to the things that deep down inside really mattered even if she had not thought about it for years.

Jennifer slept the entire time until the more than disconcerting landing occurred.  It felt as if the entire plane was attempting to become a part of the next 'Fast and the Furious' movie.  The pilot came over the loudspeaker as soon as the plane screeched to a halt, "Ladies and gentlemen that is how you land a plane.  Congratulations to me and thank you for flying Valiant Airlines."

The fifty or so occupants of the plane looked around at each other waiting for some sort of punch line.  There was not one.  This pilot was either high or drunk and was patting himself on the back for almost wiping out the entire plane full of people.

There is a chance, based on fear alone, that this guy would get murdered in cold as everyone stampeded off the plane.  What a jackass, but to his credit, he did land the plane successfully.

Jennifer waited patiently for two hours as the baggage was offloaded and placed onto the slowest conveyor belt on the face of this green Earth.  As each passenger reached down and grabbed their bag, Jennifer grew more and more anxious.  Without this bag, who knew where her stuff would land.  Whose hands would the Christmas Darling's evidence end up in?

Being the first one on the plane of course she was one of the last to get her belongings.  It did not make any sense but if the maroon red go bag popped out from behind the rubber curtain, it did not matter.  For once, Jennifer did not have a plan if this bag did not come through and show itself.  She would have to put in a claim, give an address to send the bag to if found, and a legitimate phone number.  If riffled through, that was it.  The bag would be delivered with a side dose of handcuffs and nightsticks, asps now.

Another two hours passed, she stood guard with locked knees and heavy breathing.  Jennifer had entered a zombie state.  Her eyes did not blink, her body didn't move but stood lopsided, and her patience ran thinner than the skin of a human's wrist.

With a sigh of relief, out came the anxiously awaited go bag.  Someone was watching out for her that had to be a fact.

Now, it was taxi time again.  Here is to hoping the taxis in Norfolk were nicer than the San Diego versions.  It was not as long of a ride to Hampton as it was to the airport in San Diego, but her body was tired and labored.  Christmas Eve was tomorrow, a time of joy in every house on the planet.  She would be with her parents again and a plan for the future could be structured and manufactured in her brain after hearing the prognosis of her Father.