That low, deep timpani boom in all the movies when something – usually really bad – was revealed? Kim heard it echoing in her brain after Ken’s words. Ron & Monique stopped frenching. Shego stiffened. It was as if everything in Bueno Nacho disappeared; the only ones left being the four of them.
“Kim? You still there? Hello?” Ken's voice over the Kimmunicator was deafening suddenly, stinging Kim painfully like dozens of poisoned acupuncture needles hurled like darts into both of her ears. She blushed after realising she'd jumped about a foot into the air when he'd spoken.
“Huh- oh! Yeah. Yeah, I'm still here, Ken,” Kim answered. “It's just, y’know, I thought you said in I-”
“-Iceland, yes. In Iceland.” Ken went on.“We've been getting reports of small dog attacks in Iceland.”
“Talk about a mood killer,” Ron groaned.
“Don't local police usually handle those reports, Ken?” asked Kim, trying to think of every way to deny herself the thought of it being the truth.
“They do,” Ken confirmed.“But the circumstances are weird. Really weird.”
“Weirder than a mutated dragon Cuddlebunny that likes donuts?” asked Monique.
“Explain, Ken,” Shego said. “Er – please? Sorry…”
“Heh. No worries, Shego. But they called us because all of the reports are – so far – within a 10-klick radius of that crevasse my giant robot made outside Drakken's old lair. And there's the fact four GJ satellite scans of the area confirmed that, at a spot not far from where Tara fell into it, there's a very faint trail of blood – as in 6 months to a year old – that goes all the way up one side of the crevasse.”
Everyone heard the boom that time as they stared at each other.
“Okay, Ken?” Kim said. “We’re, uh… We’re in the middle of Bueno Nacho right now. We probably should be having this conversation somewhere a little more private. I’ll take everyone back to my house. Hold off everything you were gonna say, and see if you can find any more…anything - on this.”
Ken saluted his acknowledgement. “Over and out.”
“C’mon,” said Kim, getting up. “Let’s go.”
“Here.”
Shego nearly flattened the voice’s owner – before she saw it was Senior. “Oh, – jeezus, don’t do that.”
Senior held up a few takeout bags. “Something for the road. On me.”
“Thanks, Senior!” Shego said, kissing him on the cheek in respect as she grabbed the food & dashed off.
Senior watched them go, then rubbed his cheek with a grin. “Ah…I’ve still got the touch…” He turned around. “Now, for heaven’s sake, what happened to that accursed janitor’s mop? Ah! There it is…”
Ten minutes later, everyone was gathered in the Possibles’ kitchen. Rufus helped himself to one of the Nacos from the takeout bag. “Mhmm, yummy!” he chittered, before falling onto his back and belching.
“You brought dinner home, Kimmie-Cub?” asked Mr. Possible. “But I was going to cook omelettes!” One of Mrs. Possible’s had left on maternity leave, so Mrs. Possible and the rest of the people in her department had all volunteered to work a double shift at Middleton Medical Center for a month to cover for their absent colleague. As of right now, it just happened to be the middle of Mrs. Possible’s month.
“Dad, Señor Senior Senior gave them to us - on him,” Kim protested. “We couldn’t refuse the gesture.”
“Oh,” Mr. Possible caught himself.
“You can still cook omelettes, Dr. P! We’ll just throw these in the fridge for later,” said Ron.
“Ah. Much obliged, Ronald.”
“Not a problem, Dr. P!” Ron laid back into the booth seat of the kitchen table.
“So what are you all doing home so early? I thought you were at that Brock…Samson’s party?”
“Brick Flagg, Dad. And I figured it was time to leave when people started showing up with beer.”
“It was so not time to leave…” Shego grumbled.
“That’s my girl!” Dr. Possible congratulated, searching through the cabinet for something. “Hmm… I can never remember – is it better to use an iron skillet for an omelette, or will any old skillet do?”
“Any old skillet will do, Dr. P.!” Ron clarified. “Just remember one crucial thing about using skillets: Don’t everDREAM of using a metal or wooden spatula with a non-stick skillet. It’s not very pretty!”
“Ah! Once again, Ronald, thanks for the advice.”
“And also…we got a beep from Ken. Turns out there’s been some small dog attacks in Iceland.”
There was a loud CRASH behind them as a bunch of pots and pans fell to the ground.
“Eh heh heh – sorry,” Dr. Possible grinned, embarrassed.
“No worries, Dad. Oh, I should probably call Ken back now. Main reason why we’re home – to talk to him in a place that’s just a little more private than the booth by the door at Bueno Nacho.”
Kim took out the Kimmunicator. “Ken, you there?”
“Haven’t left yet, Kim.”
“Oh, good. Anything new pop up while we were in transit?”
“‘Fraid not, Kim. I’ve only got what I didn’t get to tell you earlier.”
“Shoot.”
“Well…” Ken hesitated. “It’s really weird. I had the best GJ divers and ice climbers searching that whole crevasse nonstop for like a week. We didn’t find a clue. No clothes. No body. If, uh… she – did – survive, then we’re talkin’ one tough individual here. Considering there’s even still traces of blood six months later, then that trail had to be one incredibly massive river of crimson when it was first made-”
“-Suggesting that whoever left the trail either had their body shredded beyond belief like–” Kim shuddered. “–like they’d just been ravaged on by a starving pack of wolves… or it was planted there.”
“Right,” Ken nodded. “However, if it was planted there, we would’ve noticed it. We’ve scanned that site weekly since what happened there. Why it’s just showing up now, it’s – well, it’s beyond me…”
“You checked the internet for anything?” asked Shego.
“We’re scouring all the villains’ message boards and sites, but so far, no word we can latch onto.”
“No, that’s not gonna work.” Kim said. “I doubt if she survived, that anyone would be talking about it.”
“Hmm… good point, Kimmie,” Shego nodded.
“Do you have anything on the victims in the reports, Ken?” asked Kim.
“…Not unless you wanna hear more gorgeously embellished details about red-”
“Yeah, don't - don't say any more, Ken,” Shego interrupted.
“Ick,” Rufus stuck out his tongue.
“My thoughts exactly, little guy,” said Shego.
“No, Ken, I mean, like – who they were? Where they were?” Kim clarified. “Names? Witnesses?”
“Oh - yeah, duh – sorry, still settling into this new job… Dozens of cases-”
“Take your time, Ken,” Ron reassured. “We’ve pretty much got all day.”
“Yeah. I know it’s on this desk somewhere… Hold on…”
“Omelettes are ready!” chimed Mr. Possible.
“Omelettes! Omelettes! Ho ho!” Rufus hopped up and down a bit.
“Take your time, Ken.” Kim smirked. “We’re getting dinner served to us right now.”
“JIM! TIM! DINNER’S ON!” Mr. Possible called to Kim’s brothers.
“IS IT OMELETTES AGAIN?” one of them called back – nobody could tell the difference.
“WHY, YES IT IS!” Dr. Possible replied.
“SWEET!”
“AHH!” Shego jumped in surprise for the second time, the boys had beelined it into the kitchen so fast. “Tweebs! Ohhh!” she growled. “Will people stop sneaking up on me today?” she grumbled.
“They’re only getting you back for being so sneaky as a villain, Shego,” Kim teased.
“Yeah, well, I almost fried them with my green energy again,” grumbled Shego some more. It was true. In the past six months, she’d nearly blasted the Tweebs more than five times for surprising her out of the blue. Which was really odd, because she never got surprised like that.
“Yeah – ‘sides, they’re not the only ones to catch you off guard, girl,” Monique snickered.
“Remember our deal on that-” Kim pointed at Monique. “We get the negatives. Got it?”
“Don’t worry, Kim!” Monique laughed.
Suddenly, a wonderful smell wafted over them. “Here ya’ go!” said Mr. Possible, putting a plate with an omelette on it in front of each one of them, like a waiter. “Enjoy!”
---
15 minutes later, the omelettes were finished. “Yummy!” Rufus exclaimed.
“Aha! I knew it was here somewhere!” Ken finally exclaimed.“Hmm…seems none of the victims have been identified yet.” He frowned.“And all the attacks were in the middle of that huge open area around that old lair, but all the witnesses were watching from a huge distance away, watching with binoculars. And all of them say the dogs disappeared as quickly as they had seemed to appear in the initial attacks.”
“What the hel-heck?” Kim corrected herself as she caught her father arching his eyebrow warily.
“Yeah, ya’ got me on that one, Kim. Anyone else at the got any suggestions? Maybe your brothers?”
“WAIT!” Monique and the Tweebs exclaimed at the same time.
Shego looked around, a little surprised. “That was a freaky moment.”
“What do you guys have in mind?” asked Kim.
“You haven’t checked all the sites-” Monique started.
“-yeah, check all the horror movie sites-” Jim continued.
“-and the horror movie fansite message boards-” Tim added on.
“-look for news or rumours of zombies in Iceland! Yeah!” Monique declared, high fiving the Tweebs.
Kim looked around, surprised. “And that was even freakier…”
“You think maybe we should visit…” Ron chimed in, but chimed out just as fast. “Nah…”
“Who?” Kim asked.
“Well, you know…him. I mean, if she’s still amongst us, wouldn’t he know her best?”
Kim and Shego looked at each other.
Barkin Maximum Security Penitentiary was a relic of the past now. In its place: The new triple-max security Upperton Asylum for the Mentally Insane. Not to say the place wasn’t a prison – far from it. But it certainly was nothing like the pathetic place that Kim had easily escaped from six months ago.
Inside, the four teens were taken to a cell in the very back of the Asylum. Two rows of Titanium bars sandwiched two layers of folded steel-reinforced Plexiglas. Occupying the cell was their most dangerous inmate:
“What are you doing here?” Dr. Drakken snapped, turning his back to everyone. “Go away.”
“Cut the emo, Drakken.” Shego crossed her arms. “We’re here to talk, not jab at each other.”
“Actually, we’re here because we need your help,” said Kim.
“And why would I help you - Kimmie?” The response made Shego's eye twitch, and he knew it. “Especially since you’re the reason I’m here? ”
“We have a strong reason to believe Tara may still be alive.”
Drakken turned around.
END CHAPTER FOUR