History of the Trap Vol. 2: Prologue - Morgan Battles a Robot Part 3

-3-

“They live in a castle.”  Both looked up at the imposing home before them.  It wasn’t quite out of a fairy tale, but it was close enough.  Large grey stones, mortared together in intricate patterns, and at least two towers that she could see.  Morgan wondered if Rapunzel was in one of those towers.  Andrea’s hair was certainly back, long flowing red locks, extending past her shoulder blades.  Maybe that would be how they got in.  “Andrea! Andrea! Let down your hair!” Morgan whispered, giggling.

“Stop goofing!” Phillip sternly replied.  “This is serious!  We’re trespassing, you know.  I can’t believe we haven’t been caught already.”

They had managed to avoid the security guards by the gate, climbing the stone wall that surrounded the Gregor Castle.  Fortunately, as they dropped down onto the property, there was no moat, and no slavering guard dogs.  There was only green grass, and as they got closer, an elaborate flower garden.  The path through the garden was made with yellow bricks.  “Watch out for poppies.  We don’t want to fall asleep,” Morgan had joked as they went through it.

Now they stood on the portico in front of a large wooden door, a side entrance away from the front entrance that was well-lit and with a driveway to drop off chauffeured guests. Near the ornate door knob was a strange looking silver key pad, with white numbered buttons. “Do you remember what she told you?”

“Yes,” Phillip answered.  “But there’s no telling if it’s still the same.”  There were many things that Andrea had told him over the many months they were together. She loved to talk, and for much of it, he loved to hear her talk.  “Besides, that was a word.  These are numbers.” 

She cuffed him gently across the top of his head.  “You maroon!  Focus!  It’s like the dial of a telephone.  Letters are connected to different numbers!  Punch the number associated with that number and we’re in!”

Phillip hesitated.  “Are you sure that would work?”

“Do you have a better plan? You think we should just knock and ask if Andrea could come out to play?”

"She may not even be here.  She left school two weeks early, and before that, she barely spoke to me.  It’s almost like she’s afraid to open up to me, and that is so unlike her.  She might be in Paris or India or somewhere.”

"She doesn’t want to open up to you because she remembers some of what happened and it scares her."

"How could she know?  No one else who didn’t survive remembers anything.  Why would she be different?”

"And yet, you think she does.  Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here.”  Morgan looked at Phillip with her Morganesque stare of intensity. “You and I both know that she can…do things.  They may have helped her preserve her memories of that time.”

"It’s more than just memories.  You’ve seen enough to know that there’s more than that going on here.  It’s one of the reasons this code you think I have may not work.”

"Enough! We’ll work that out later.  Try the code!  We don’t know when some security guard could patrol by here, and throw us out on our kiesters.”

What he could he do?  How do you say no to a force of nature like Morgan Tigh?  Well, his chance to do that had passed when he let her in his bedroom window. He looked at the key pad, and struggled to remember what letters went with what numbers.

He closed his eyes, and pictured the phone dial in his head, remembering the letters under each number.  And then he slowly pressed it in.  7-2-9-6-7-5-2.

Nothing happened.  "Just great.  What do you want to do next, Morgan? Break another window?”  Phillip thought of how she had cracked his bedroom window trying to get his attention.

"Are you sure you got it right? Think again.”

"Of course I got right!”  He repictured it in his mind.  No, he didn’t get it quite right.  The I is associated with 4, not 5.  He tried it one more time.  7-2-9-6-7-4-2.

There was an audible click.  “Oh, goodness, Phillip Irman!  Who says you’re not a genius?” 

“Thanks.  Wait!  What?  Who does say I’m not a….”

 Morgan was ready to place her hand on the knob when it started to turn on its own.

As the door started to open, they saw who it was.  Emphasis on it. And they had not seen it for years.

There he was - big, hulking, Mr. Gary Jackson.

"Oh, my God!” gasped Morgan.  “It’s Andrea’s killer robot!”

Phillip shivered.  They had really stepped into it now.