Megin Levin's POV
Chapter 4

"Jeez Megin, slow down ya freakin' psycho! You almost hit that semi-truck!" Ben exclaimed from the passenger seat. "I'm pretty sure Gwen and Kevin aren't going anywhere." I just rolled my eyes and swerved into the next lane over. Ben didn't know it, but I was having the time of my life driving this car. I had been aching to ever since I had seen it, but Kevin had been so freakin' protective of it! Don't think that I wasn't being careful though; I was making sure that this beautiful machine didn't get one single scratch. But it was hard to think of much else other than the raw horsepower under my foot as I pressed down on the gas. I longed to flip the accelerator switch, or push any of the various buttons that activated the plumber battle gear that Kevin had installed, but figured he would kill me if I burned anything out.

So I just sighed wistfully and asked, "What's the turnoff?" Ben glanced down at the tracker he had been manned with.

"Just here," he said, pointing. I coasted over to the shoulder of the road, put the cloakers on, and turned the car off. Ben gave me a quizzical look.

"Why are we stopping? The tunnel's down there." He pointed once again. I rolled my eyes.

"You're stupider than I thought if you think I'm taking this baby into a horde of DNA uglies. We're walking from here." I hopped out, and he had no choice but to follow me.

Once we were down, we began feeling up the damp walls. Not even DNAliens were dumb enough to build a tunnel directly to their lair. There had to be a secret door. And there was, except that there was some kind of pattern you had to tap on the stones, which would, of course, take hours to decipher.

Right.

Or I could just absorb some stone beat the door in.

Whichever was more convenient.

Anyway, the door led to a labyrinth of hallways and vents. Damn these things were paranoid. The screen on my tracker was getting fuzzier and fuzzier as we got deeper underground, but I could still make out which way to go at every fork in the road and every vent we had to squeeze into. It was tedious work, and hard to do in the growing darkness. But I just kept thinking of Kevin, and how much the DNAlien who was in charge was going to learn about pain when I got my hands on him. But knowing Kevin, there probably wouldn't be much left of him.

Switching over to Kevin's POV. YAY we love Kevin!

I thrashed once again against the chains holding my wrists and ankles, but to no avail.

"Kevin, if it didn't work before, why would it now?" Gwen— to my left— said. For once the fugly aliens weren't completely stupid, and had put in a zero point energy box. Level 5 tech at least. Which means she couldn't bust us out of here. I was in similar cuffs, chained against the wall. Which is, let me tell you, just as uncomfortable as they make it look in the movies. We had been blindfolded and tied up, carried through a lot of hallways, and then roughly put into our holding cells.

"Well what are we supposed to do? Just let them keep us hostage so the plumbers won't mess with them anymore?" I finished my sentence with another violent thrash, but I also winced at the anger in my voice. It wasn't fair to yell at Gwen. I was mostly angry for letting the aliens capture me or, more importantly, her. "I'm sorry. Sorry I let them get you. I screwed up. I—" I heard her chuckle a little bit from her cell.

"Kevin?" she said.

"Yeah?"

"Shut up." I smiled a bit to myself. I love her. I was about to say something more, but something heavy fell out of my pocket. It was my phone. All my twisting had pried it from my jeans. When it landed on the floor, it split into a few pieces. I was about to curse it when I saw a small silver piece that didn't belong there. I knew immediately what it was. A tracker.

"Kev? What was that?" I barely heard her. "Kevin! What's wrong?" she asked again.

"Don't get comfortable, Gwen. Ben and Megin are coming for us." I said, but quietly, so the fuglies wouldn't hear.

"What? Are they crazy? It's way too dangerous!"

"Yeah, and what's worse?" I replied, unable to not imagine the worst.

"What?"

"Megin is most likely driving my car."