There was no mistaking the end of the trail. As it approached an old weathered bunker the trail got narrower and deeper until it passed into the door. Gwen could imagine the Big Lugs jostling for position and forcing their way through the doorway. One look behind her told her that if she waited, she wouldn't need to use any imagination at all. She sure didn't want to be standing in the way when they all arrived. The question was: where did she really want to be?
The Lugs couldn't have all fit into the bunker beyond the door. It wasn't anywhere near big enough. So the bunker had to be the entrance to their destination rather than the destination itself. Rusty grabbed her arm as she reached for the door.
"Well, there's got to be something in there that explains what's going on," she reasoned. "And I think we need to find out what that is." While Rusty didn't argue with the logic of this, he made it clear that he thought it was a bad, bad idea. But Rusty was a game little robot. He followed her through the door.
Old light bulbs cast a dim, hopeless sort of light in the concrete bunker. More of the same dispirited light was coming from a stairway that led down under the ground. Like the Lugs before them - and, soon, like the Lugs behind them - they made their way down the stairs.
The stairway was so narrow that Gwen still worried about the Lugs that were steadily catching up to them. She hurried down, and down, and down some more, and at last they came to the bottom of the stairway where a large, low room spread out in front of the