She felt guilty about getting here late. Anger at Major Augustus Trimble, commanding officer of the chaplains at the post, still pounded her temples. She had confronted the major in his office only a short time ago. Megan had wanted Trimble to acknowledge that the Rapture had happened and start classes for the young people on the base that would explain what was going to happen during the coming seven years of the Tribulation. Trimble had refused, had shouted her down, and had her escorted from his office. Megan hadn’t gone graciously, but she had gone. Maybe Trimble hadn’t come around in his faith to the Lord, but she had. Somewhere up there, she knew Chris was in heaven with God and would be safe from all the coming savagery. It was a lot to be thankful for. However, she wasn’t convinced that God cared much about the present situation she was in. Gerry Fletcher had been a child in her care. As one of the civilian counselors for the post, Megan saw a number of children and teenagers who had problems with drugs, alcohol, and emotional trauma.
