Thanks, Dad, that explains everything.
He hooked the last piece of his armor, his helmet, to his side. "I'll explain more later, but right now, I need your help."
He walked to the very end of the room where one more case stood, this time with two handprints on it. He put his hand in one, then looked at me. "Place your hand on it," he said.
I did as instructed and once again everything began to glow, spreading over the design until all the crevices and carvings filled with light. The locks shifted and moved with the sound of old metal being woken up.
I pulled my hand away and stared at it. "This was made for me?"
"No, for your mother," he said. "But you're close enough genetically for it to work."
The case opened, revealing a solid piece of… glass? I ran a hand over it, marveling at the beauty, even in black and white. This wasn't glass; it felt like crystal. A huge rectangular crystal box, taller than my dad, and several feet deep. It was carved with more intricate designs, and I could almost make out something within the crystal. "What's in there?"
"A weapon," my dad said. "One we must protect at all costs." From under one of the tables he pulled out a furniture dolly and placed it at the base of the case, then switched a lever that lowered the crystal box out and onto the dolly.
"Neat trick," I said, and I realized my parents must have built all of this themselves.
"We need to get this to the truck." He put his helmet on top of the weapon.
I thought about the entrance to our bunker, how we'd have to push this huge mass of crystal up to the surface. "Seriously? No way we're strong enough."
"You're stronger than you think," he said. "And your mom will be here to help."
My mom? The petite schoolteacher?
But I didn't argue. Instead, I pushed and he pulled until we stood under the open door. "Climb out and wait for your mother."
When I reached the top, she was already there. "Mom, I think Dad's lost it. He wants us to move this giant crystal box out of here, but it must weigh a ton."
My dad had already pushed it the rest of the way so that the top reached the opening. "Ready, ladies?" He called from below.
"Ready," my mom said, gripping it on the right side. "Get the other side, Scarlett. There's a carved handle."
"Mom, there's no way we can lift this. It's solid crystal." I felt like I'd stepped into the Twilight Zone and somehow my parents had been replaced by lookalikes from another planet. Maybe this was all a dream and I'd wake up and things would be back to normal.
My mom sighed. "Please just do as you're asked without arguing. Please."
I moved to the other side and found the groove in the crystal where my hand fit. She'd see soon enough this was all a waste of time.
"On three," my dad said from below. "One, two, three!"
I pulled with everything in me.
And, by the Orders, the thing actually started moving. It startled me so much that my hand slipped, and I dropped my end.
My dad grunted and my mom centered herself to grab both sides, her body draped over the top of the weapon as her muscles flexed and she pulled the box out by herself.
I scrambled to help, belatedly, and assisted in getting the tail end safely on the ground as my dad climbed the stairs with the dolly.
I stared at my mom. Shocked. Amazed. Speechless.
She didn't even look at me, just helped my dad get it on the dolly again. Like all of this was totally normal. She looked at my dad with a serious expression. "Are you sure?"
He nodded. "They will come."
She held his gaze for a long moment, then nodded as well. "Okay, then. Let's hurry."
I helped them push it to the truck, though they clearly didn't need me. Because apparently I'd been born to superheroes. Or mutants. Or…
Oh my God. Did my parents have para-powers? I'd seen the coverage in the news like the rest of the world, but living in rural Montana we didn't see much in the way of Zeniths. I heard a rumor once that a guy in town was arrested for making his beer cans dance in the street, but no one ever corroborated it. Likely someone was just on drugs and seeing things.
But how else could I explain what they could do?
And then I felt a tiny twinge of jealousy. If I had a para-power, maybe it would have helped with my eyesight. Maybe it would have made my dreams easier to accomplish.
As we got to the truck, my mom looked at me, a frown on her face. "I'm sorry, honey. You weren't supposed to find out this way."
What have I actually found out? I wondered. "Was I ever supposed to find out?"
She bit her lip. "I have to go back to the bunker for my armor. Let's get this in the truck quickly."