History of the Trap: May Shadows Part 8

SYNOPSIS:  After being visited in prison by Morgan LaDona Tigh, Lance Martin has agreed to Dr. Duncan's request to detail what happened in the time that Lance is calling "the Trap."  Lance begins his journal by describing the morning before the trap fell, where we learn his father was the Principal of Loren High, that Lance is a Junior, and has a sister named Diane who is a sophomore.  After a couple hours at school that morning, where we see how different his relationship with Morgan is.  We meet Lance's best friend, Artie Pentler, and their gang. Just as Lance is ready to ask Ginny Estill out, the Trap falls, and they witness the horrible death of two P. E. students as they are caught in some kind of electrical storm.  The students soon realize, as April marches on, that the so-called storm is something more, and that they may be trapped at the school and it's grounds for a very long time.  As May starts up, a grizzly murder is discovered.  Mr. Franks, the substitute math teacher is found dead in a janitorial closet. The murder remains unsolved, as Lance's father and staff struggle to come to grips with events.  They decide to schedule more activities for the students to become involved with, including a dance and a TV variety show. Lance slowly learns that Ginny is more interested in Artie than him.

8

It was to be the last night of the cars.  At least in any number.  There they sat occupying the parking lot, in all their glory. Camaros, Mustangs, Opals, Thunderbirds, pick ups and station wagons, little Beetles and a few mighty Cadillacs, even a new Gregor Gazelle.  The decision had been made to take many of them apart and use the pieces to help with the installation of the tunnel. Our resident auto genius, Tom Bodell, had diagrammed their use carefully to the tunnel team.  He couldn't believe he was going to be a part of their dismantling, but if we couldn't get out, the cars were no good to us anyways.

That night several cars were wrecked against the barrier.  They were taken, positioned to zoom past the barrier.  All but one was passenger less, as bricks were used at the last minute on the gas pedals.  All of the cars were instantly zapped and fried, even the one stubbornly driven by Harold Masters.  No one quite knew what Harold was thinking.  His buddies thought he would leap out of the car at the last minute.  If that was his intent, he was far too late.  The next day, the dismantling process began.

Tom Bodell and his team, including Jim Kurrash, started that last day of May.  Pulling metal bodies off with tools from the shop, removing engines and carburetors.  The whole process would take weeks, but it began that day.  That first morning many of us, including myself, watched in awe at the whole process.

Although the temperature was fairly steady, it was warm work, and at some point some of those dismantling cars removed their shirts.  When the tall and lean Tom Bodell removed his, I heard an audible sigh come from Sue Boschman.  She sat on a blanket in the grass nearby, her legs tucked under a pleated tartan skirt.  Behind her large glasses, her brown eyes were as large as saucers.

Jerry Mack came up to me, frail and a half foot shorter than even me.  "Does...does this mean...we don't think we'll ever need the cars again?"

I thought for a moment.  How to answer that without sounding too dispiriting? "Well, I think right now we have other priorities, and we'll figure out about cars later."

Jerry just nodded.  "I think that might be wise."  He stood beside me, looking at the destruction.  He didn't look bothered.  He looked surprisingly content, as if he had reached another level of nirvana.

By noon, most of us had gotten our fill and moved onto other things.  But not Jerry.  He stayed out there the rest of the day.