The Boy Who Cried Werewolf

Back to the Bunker Again

"I'm sure glad you decided to come with us, Old Friend," Ford whispered to Old Man McGucket as they made their way down the stairwell into the old bunker. "Aw, t'weren't nuthin'!" the old man cackled. "I'm jest pleased as punch t'see the Pines clan all in one place agin!"

"Why are we whispering?" Mabel asked in a whisper.

"I don't rightly know," McGucket declared. "How'z about we sing instead?"

"Ugh," grumbled Stan. "Reminds me too much of zombies."

"What's the plan?" Dipper asked. "What do we do first?"

"Let's assess the situation first," Ford said as he heedlessly led the way into the antechamber of the facility. They all fanned out and began looking around the room. Stan walked over to the storage locker containing small melee weapons and the shelves of old rations stacked up nearby. "Let's collect all the small stuff first," he suggested. "We can always use preserved emergency foodstuffs and small arms."

"Yeah—most of that stuff should still be good for another fifty years," Dipper noted as he made a closer inspection of the stored supplies.

Ford nodded. "Good idea. We'll put that load into Soos' truck. The actual salvage, we can load onto Fiddleford's truck."

"Okay," Stan ordered. "Kids- you're with me; let's start hauling out these C-Rations." The three started bringing down the boxes and began running relays up to the surface, gradually filling Soos' old pickup with the emergency provisions.

"Hey, Grunkle Stan!" Mabel called out. "There's a bunch of old tool kits and stuff here, too!"

"It all goes up to the small truck, sweetie," Stan said as he began collecting knives, truncheons, and chains from the lockers. "Oooh, crossbows!" he gloated as he came across the weapons at the back of one of the closets. He glanced back up at Dipper and Mabel. "Come on, kids! Look lively! Get a move on!"

In the meantime, Ford and McGucket were examining the control panel and monitors at the front desk.

"Let's see," Ford murmured to himself. "Will the power cells still be working...?"

"Well, iffin them kids got in and fought the shapeshifter, it's a safe bet it's still a-workin'." His fingers danced over the appropriate controls, and the monitors came to life.

"I want to take the power cells with us," Ford told McGucket. "They should prove to be extremely useful."

"We'd better make sure first to take care of that shapeshifter," Fiddleford answered as he scrutinized the dusty, illuminated displays. Whatever cameras were connected to the security panel were slowly sweeping back and forth across the main cavern.

"There!" Ford exclaimed, jabbing a finger at the screen. McGucket nodded. "Five stasis tubes," he reported to Ford "Three inactive, one destroyed, and one..."

"Active," Ford finished grimly.

"Great Gallopin' Golfballs!" McGucket exclaimed. "Lookee thar!" He made a few adjustments to the controls without looking away from the monitor. The surveillance cameras focused on the active cryostasis pod. Clawing at the clearsteel window was Dipper- twelve-year-old Dipper, frozen in an aspect of horror.

Ford shivered. "That must have been a truly terrifying ordeal," he breathed. He glanced back to watch his brother and the kids as they continued to clear out the last of the weapons, tools, and comestibles. Then he turned back to Fiddleford. "Before we neutralize it, I want to get some samples."

"Samples? What kind of samples?"

"Blood," Ford answered. "Some neural tissue. Some of its sensory organs."