The Bunker

young, not stupid.

It was Friday afternoon, and my apartment was sparkling. No really, it was positively glowing. Amy had scrubbed it to perfection. It was her way of coping, while Dylan was back at his place, probably still glowing green, and putting our "files" together. Quinn had thrown himself onto the sofa in what looked like the most uncomfortable position possible. Tall people problems. The T.V. was blaring loud 80's music and I was just doing my best to stay out of Amy's way.

I was also going through my emails, and feeling miserable because Professor Naves had emailed me asking why I had "missed her class today when I knew that we had finals soon and I had missed a lot of her classes already?"  I wasn't sure what to reply her; "Sorry Professor N, we visited an underground military bunker last night and we drowned and now we have super powers we don't understand and can't control. We should be back to class on Monday morning."

Instead I typed a sober apology and promised her I would be in on Monday. We were counting down the hours until midnight, when we were supposed to meet up at the bunker following mystery text from blocked number on Dylan's phone. Q's parents rang him and asked him why he wasn't driving the new car they had just bought, why the caterer was fired and why security said he hadn't been back at his place last night.

He told them he broke his little toe and couldn't drive, that the caterer was not a great cook but he would rehire her all the same, and that he had spent the night at my place. Then he whined to his dad about being monitored and asked his mom to stop treating him like a baby. 

Amy eventually stopped cleaning and then decided to make dinner. I didn't protest. I even asked her if she could make a lot so I could freeze some of it for the rest of the week. 

She said "Yes, with pleasure. Now get out the kitchen and let me cook". 

I promptly slid off the bar stool and threw myself onto a bean bag in the corner of the lounge.

The rest of the day was uneventful. Quinn and I left to go pay my bills and pick up my weekly check from my Uncle in Verona. After which we passed through Q's place, packed a bag for the weekend, and reassured the security guy that he was still alive and well and probably wouldn't be home that night either. I managed to convince Q to bring his car back to my place, and on the way home we stopped by the caterer's and rehired her. Amy would be proud of me.

By the time we got back to my place we only had a couple more hours to kill. So we had dinner together. As soon as my phone buzzed with a text from Dylan we all jumped up and grabbed our stuff.

"We're taking your car Q, it's so much nicer than my Prius" I said leaving no room for discussion

"Okay but I'm driving" he countered

"Nope. You have a broken toe remember?" I said grabbing the keys out of his hand and walking out of my loft without waiting for an answer.

We met Dylan by the roadside. He was standing outside his car with an armful of different colored files and a flashlight.

"Took you long enough" was the first thing he said when we stepped out of the car

"Sorry, we got stopped by a cop who thought were drunk frat kids" I filled him in

"Well let's get moving, it's going to be a long night."

We retraced our steps from the previous night, easily picking up our trail where we had trampled through the grass.

When we got to the trap door, Dylan stepped over and opened it. This time there was no steam, just bright lights and that chemical smell. Dylan went in first, then Amy, then Quinn and as usual I brought up the rear.