History of the Trap: June Dreams Part 6

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. May involves grizzly murders of staff that remain 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 sports,  a TV variety show, and the beginnings of the tunnel project. Lance realizes that Ginny has chosen Artie, and finds himself moving closer to the studious, pretty Lisa Carlton.  Lance and Lisa stumble on to a drug ring being led by David Izzner and the band teacher, Mr. Black.  Later, the Guidance Counselor, Mr. Joe Oliver, is found dead, his office ransacked for cigarettes and other contraband.

6

With Mr. Frank's passing, another adult had to come into our sleep room.  Ironically enough, that turned out to be Alberto Foreman, the janitor that discovered Mr. Frank's body in his janitorial closet.  He was a more effective disciplinarian than Mr. Franks, and garnered respect from the twenty plus boys that slept there.  But Alberto was also a very sound sleeper, and once he fell asleep he generally did not wake up until morning.  Some, like the big athlete Jamie Smith, would use that as an excuse to wander.  Actually, I had done that myself sometimes, and would do so again in the future.

The ban on cigarettes had hit hard on Jamie, and some of the other smokers.  He had gotten into a fight the previous night, a fight that Alberto was barely able to break up.  Those jittery nerves were everywhere.  I could only hope that things would settle back when the withdrawal stage had passed.

It also enabled us to have more late night conversations.  We had to be relatively quiet, so as not to disturb those that fell asleep, but we did have them nonetheless.  I seemed to require less sleep the most, so I was often guilty of being part of these talks.

The discussion about was going on had abated somewhat over the weeks, but was lively that night late in June.  The most popular theory was a variation on Sue Boschman's military experiment.  What they were testing out and why they would choose our school to do it were the weakest parts of it. 

Johnny Summers speculated that it had something to do with the nearby scientific research centers at Huron University, or perhaps Gregor Robotics.  "I'm telling you, some experiment they did went horribly wrong, and this is the result of it.  They were messing with something they shouldn't and it caused this never ending electrical storm.  Some huge biometric feedback or something."

"Yeah!" chimed in Jimmy Stark.  "We should find Andrea Gregor and get her to spill."  Andrea Gregor was Ivan Gregor's daughter, who was inexplicably going to our public school rather than a private school.  Her father, Ivan Gregor, started and founded Gregor Robotics, and all we knew was that Andrea had been kicked out of a couple of private schools.  We assumed her coming here had been temporary, between private schools.  Well, it didn't look so temporary now.

She was thin, medium height, with wild red hair that flowed and curled down half her back.  She had an intense stare that seemed to be looking at someplace we could not see.  I knew who she was, but had little contact with her, 

"I think we should leave her alone.  I highly doubt she knows anything about her father's business or what it's engaged in."  I was highly sympathetic to letting her be.  As the Principal's son, I was very familiar with the attitude that you must know something.

"I don't think we're here anymore," said Geoffery Spivey, the sophomore who had done some theater with me.

"Where exactly do you think we are?" asked Johnny Summers.

"I think we're aboard an alien craft, being brought to an alien planet," answered Geoff, looking somber and serious.

"Really?  I mean, I can look out past the barrier and see that's not true," scoffed Johnny.

"That's like a big painting.  Haven't you noticed that?  We never see other people.  And nothing ever moves.  We don't even see trees and plants move in the breeze.  Nothing."

"That's one heck of a big spaceship!" said Jimmy.

"Yes, yes it is.  But it's not impossible.  Who can account for alien technology?  Don't you feel like we're moving sometimes?  That we're hurtling towards something or somewhere?"  Geoff looked at us for confirmation, but we just stared back at him blankly.  I don't think any of the rest of us had remotely felt movement.

"It's the wrath of God."

We all turned to Steve Smelther.  Normally quiet, his voice startled us.  We didn't even know he was awake.  Steve was of medium height, a boxy shape, and a stern face.  He wore his hair in a close crew cut.  He was a Pentecostal, his family devout members of Loren Church of God.

"We're in purgatory," continued Steve.  "We've done terrible things, as a society and as individuals, and now we must pay the price."

I thought that purgatory was a Catholic concept, but I didn't know enough about Pentecostals to question him one way or another.  Maybe it was a new revelation to him.

"And if you hadn't noticed, some of us are disappearing.  Where are they going?  No bodies, virtually no record of their existence.  I think they're being raptured.  When the Lord is ready for you, you're just being taken straight up."

"And what?" questioned Jimmy.  "Those being, uh, 'raptured' up.  Are they so much purer and better than the rest of us?"

"Do you know much about them?  Only the Lord really knows our hearts.  Do you remember Ronald Sparren?"

The name sounded vaguely familiar, so I nodded yes.  "I think so, but I don't remember enough about him to know why he might be considered ready for rapture."

"We don't need to know.  We trust in god and his judgment.  We believe and wait for our turn.  For it will come in time to all those who believe."

Jimmy Stark snorted in derision.  "I believe.  I believe that what you're saying is kind of nuts!"

"Oh, really?  And why do you think we have not run out of sustenance?"  Steve rose up out of his sleeping bag, extending his arms up as if he were Christ on the cross.  "Do you think the military is sneaking in here to resupply us?  Do you think it's aliens?  Or magic?  I know it's none of those things.  I know in my heart what it is.  It is the Lord.  Because the Lord will provide."  Steve looked up as he finished, staring up, not seeing our ceiling but beyond, beyond his purgatory towards whatever heaven he anticipated.

We looked up at him in awe.  And we knew that if what he was saying was true, he would be raptured up, right then and there, right before our very eyes.

He was not.