6:45 a.m., Monday, June 15, Wade's Residence
Wade, with his genius mind working far faster than his hands could type (and he could type very fast), was digging up all of the dirt that he could possibly find about Kim and Ron's mysterious employers - and so far, it had been disappointingly sparse.
"Am I gonna have to dive down below even the deep web to find anything?" he muttered in frustration as he diligently scanned the colossal online archives of birth records, exhaustive family genealogies and criminal histories, slurping soda from an enormous plastic cup that really looked more like a small bucket with a lid. He REALLY had to take a leak, but he had become so engrossed in his work, he stubbornly continued to ignore nature's unabating call, having become somewhat taken-over and single-minded with his current undertaking.
In truth, Wade was just angry.
"Crash the website that I set up, and hack into the device that I built with my own two hands? I don't think so..." he grumbled to himself; even though he had no solid proof that it was the fault of Silas and Klaus for what had happened the other day, he still decided to lay the blame where it seemed to fit the most properly and conveniently.
He continued typing away at light-speed, thousands upon thousands of little *clicks* breaking up the silent air - save for when he (loudly) guzzled his soda - when his eyes suddenly perked up with hope at a possible development.
"Wait, wait..." he whispered in agonized anticipation, hoping against all hopes that he had finally struck virtual gold. "AT LAST! VICTORY!" he cried in triumph. The battle had been hard-fought; after hours of searching practically every shadowy corner of the net, two personal records finally showed up on the screen - though his face fell when he saw just how terribly scant the details were:
Silas Amadeus McDougall - Date of birth, circa 1930s...Place of birth, Middleton, Colorado...Place of current residence, Middleton, Colorado...Place of most previous residence, Middleton, Colorado...
Klaus Grinsend Kalt - Date of birth, unknown...Place of birth, unknown...Place of current residence, Middleton, Colorado...Place of most previous residence, Point Pleasant, West Virginia
"Well, I'll be dipped in diablo sauce...that's it?!" he blurted out, with vexation. "How come there's practically NOTHING out there on these two?"
Squinting his eyes, he began to carefully re-examine the entire page of text from top to bottom, painstakingly reading each word aloud in the event that he might have missed anything vital to his search. His efforts were rewarded when his eyes - now bloodshot and fatigued from hours of computer use - fell upon a scrap of information that had gone right under his radar.
"Whoa...I DID miss something!" he exclaimed as he leaned forward and noticed an additional snippet below Silas' profile:
Spouse: Alexandria Lisa McDougall (nee Ferguson) (deceased) - Date of birth, circa 1930s...Date of death...circa early 1990s...Place of birth, Edinburgh, Scotland...Place of death, Middleton, Colorado...Place of most previous residence, Middleton, Colorado...
7:30 a.m., Monday, June 15, Middleton Museum of Nature and Science
"It really is incredible, isn't it Miss Possible?" asked the curator with a smile.
"It's...amazing..." said Kim, distantly, her wide green eyes drowning in a crystalline sea of blue and violet.
"Whooooa, that ish' gnarly!" said Ron in astonishment, through a crammed mouthful of glazed chocolate donuts. Rufus, perched in his usual spot on Ron's shoulder, rubbed his eyes and chirped in amazement at the brilliant sight before them while Ron ravenously chowed down on his second Breakfast.
Kim, Ron (plus Rufus), and the museum curator, Dr. Angela Maxwell, were gathered together in the empty, darkened exhibition chamber before opening hours, gazing in awe upon the Neptune Diamond in its glass, cube-shaped display case. Positioned directly beneath the powerful, vertical beam of a light fixture set in the high ceiling, it caused the diamond to cast iridescent, cerulean spatters across the dim cavernous room, almost as if it were a sort of small, blue disco ball suspended over a party venue.
While Ron may have thought it was "gnarly", Kim had been utterly bewitched by the priceless stone; for one thing, the gem was much larger than both of them had anticipated - it measured roughly two inches by four inches (ENORMOUS for a diamond) - and possessed an extraordinary, spellbinding effect that caused one to become practically UNABLE to turn away from the object once it crossed one's field of vision.
Wandering aimlessly through her own mind in awe, Kim thought hazily back to the day she and Ron had first visited the McDougall mansion - Silas had been more than correct - no photograph could EVER have done the real thing justice.
She tried to think of a way to offer up a decent description of it (after all, Monique had rabidly demanded one), but there was simply no way to do so. It was as if someone had compressed the planet Neptune, a tropical coral reef, and the star-spackled midnight blue sky into a stone, expertly cut it, beveled it, and then breathed life and vitality into it - if one gazed upon it for long enough, its inner colors and shadings truly appeared to ripple and surge, as if the violent, foaming waves of the open ocean had somehow been captured within the confines of a small, crystal prison.
Now she truly understood just WHY someone would want to steal it - this was NOT an object that would be sold over and over again and change hands frequently throughout the black market of the criminal underworld - no...whomever managed to possess it would NEVER be able to part with it for ANY price. There really was nothing else like it in the world. It was altogether precious, perfect and unique beyond words. Not unlike Shego the other day, Kim simply could not tear her eyes away from it. In fact, she couldn't even blink.
"Believe it or not", said Dr. Maxwell as she crossed her arms with a knowledgeable smile, "this particular diamond actually gives off a faint trace of radiation, which is most unusual for a gemstone. I've never seen anything like it in all the years I've spent in this field of study!"
Kim's eyes widened even further at the news, but the naturally paranoid Ron's eyes practically bugged out of his skull in sudden dread.
"...Radiation?" asked Ron in surprise, as he messily wiped donut crumbs from his lips. "Uh...Kim and I won't mutate, grow wings and glow in the dark by just hanging around this thing for the next month, will we?" he asked, fearfully. "I mean, I've already GOT a third nipple, and I really don't need any more 'extra features' on 'The Ron'."
"Oh, no, certainly not!" laughed the curator as she removed her glasses to polish the lenses. "The levels it gives off are but trivial - nothing close to dangerous! And if Mr. McDougall allows, the staff and I would love to spend some time analyzing the gemstone and hopefully learn more about its unique, inherent properties - during after-hours, of course."
"Third nipple?" thought Kim, as her left eye suddenly twitched and spazzed while her stomach churned violently. "Yeah, THERE'S some 'vital' trivia I didn't need to hear..."
"Whew!" said Ron and Rufus as they smiled with relief, wiping the beads of sweat from their brows. "Yeah, I was afraid I might have to bust out my biohazard suit, but it's still at the dry cleaners...y'know, ever since I heaved inside of it..."
Both Kim and Dr. Maxwell laughed at Ron's humorous, outlandish claim, though neither of them seriously believed it.
"Honestly, Ron, do you actually HAVE a biohazard outfit of your own?" asked Kim with a sly grin. "I mean, I know you have a gas mask...and a fallout shelter in your backyard...and a year's worth of rations...at least..."
Ron's face jolted with surprise.
"You mean to tell me...that you DON'T have one of YOUR own?" he asked Kim, in shock. "Heck, Kim, I even got a little custom-made one for Rufus..."
"Uh-huh!" affirmed Rufus with a nod.
Kim's face went all wonky. "You're...actually telling the truth, Ron?" she asked, as Dr. Maxwell turned away and responded to an urgent call on her phone.
Ron looked somewhat put-out with Kim's obvious lack of foresight and preparation.
"Kim...would I actually JOKE about something as serious as potential radiation poisoning? I don't wanna' gain any extra body parts! And I sure as heck don't wanna' LOSE any body parts, ESPECIALLY since we're now an official couple...OOF!"
Kim clapped her right hand over Ron's mouth as a half-shocked, half-amused smile spread across her slowly-reddening face.
"Did you just say what I THOUGHT you said? You ANIMAL!" she whispered sharply as she tried to stop the mischievous laughter that was welling up inside of her.
Ron cackled abashedly beneath Kim's hand as he slowly pulled it away. "Whoa, did THAT come out wrong, or WHAT?" he laughed.
"I think that falls under 'or what'..." giggled Kim.
"He's here now? He's on his way up? Understood...I'll see Mr. McDougall when he gets here. Thanks, Ed...bye." Dr. Maxwell tucked her phone in the pocket of her lab coat as she rejoined the suddenly flustered-looking Kim and Ron who couldn't seem to stop smirking at each other for whatever reason.
"Anyway" said Maxwell, as she replaced her glasses on the bridge of her nose, "I'm sure that your father, Dr. James Possible would be HIGHLY interested in such a fabulous scientific wonder like the Neptune diamond! He's both well-known and well-liked around here, you know. Especially in the gift shop, given his fondness for sundry knick-knacks and novelty chocolates shaped like planets and rocket ships!"
"Oh, he'd probably go nuclear over it, doctor!" laughed Kim. "I mean, rocket science is his forte, but really, ANY kind of science and he just goes giddy."
"Yes, that is true" said Ron, nodding sagely with a grin as he clasped his hands behind his back, leisurely rocking back and forth on his heels. "AND he also really digs math, Dr. Max! Why, just this morning while having breakfast at Kim's place, Doctor P predicted the probability of me losing my pants today would most likely be somewhere in the ballpark of-"
"The diamond is a remarkable little wonder, is it not?" came a deep, familiar voice.
Kim's breath stopped as Ron let out a shrill *eep!*. She slowly - and with great effort - turned herself around and saw Silas McDougall standing augustly behind her - still dressed formally and entirely in black and gray, though this time sporting a black fedora hat and trench coat - with Klaus standing diligently just behind him, his hands still folded fastidiously behind his back. Silas was smoking another Cuban cigar, in direct violation of the innumerable 'NO SMOKING' signs plastered everywhere - not that anyone would even DARE to correct someone as imposing as him.
She had nearly forgotten just how remarkably tall Silas was, as she stood engulfed in his shadow, which seemed to be several degrees cooler than anywhere else in the room.
"Oh, good morning, Mr. McDougall!" said Dr. Maxwell, eagerly, as she walked forward to greet him. "We are so excited for opening day! And we are so pleased and grateful that you have allowed us to display such a valuable family heirloom of yours!"
"The pleasure and gratitude are all mine, doctor" said Silas as he genially shook the grinning Dr. Maxwell's hand. "I only wish I had shared the diamond with the world YEARS earlier!"
"Oh, indeed!" said Maxwell. "In truth, I had never even HEARD of the Neptune diamond until you contacted us! I am EXTREMELY surprised that such a splendid marvel was practically unknown to the scientific community until only recently!"
"Mr. McDougall is a very generous man!" said Klaus - still grinning strangely as the light from the diamond's display unit was reflected weirdly in his glasses.
"Yes, he most certainly is!" answered Maxwell. "What a WONDERFUL opportunity he has provided our museum, not to mention our patrons! I mean, have you SEEN the lines outside, sir? Why, there must be HUNDREDS of people waiting to get in!"
Ron wrinkled his nose and grinded his teeth as Dr. Maxwell bowed and scraped before Silas like a giddy schoolgirl as Klaus looked on. "Why does that little weird dude keep saying 'mR. mCdOuGaLl Is A vErY gEnErOuS mAn'?" he thought to himself. "Geez Louise, maybe he really IS an android and he's just programmed to kiss McDougall's ass non-stop!"
Ron's amused smirk was suddenly wiped from his face in a cold snap of startling Deja vu; something about seeing Silas in that fedora hat and trench coat in the dim light of the exhibition chamber had dredged up some dark, distant memory that had lain dead and deeply buried in his unconscious...until just now.
He squinted hard at Silas, as if he were seeing the man for the first time all over again.
"Where...have I SEEN this dude before?" he thought to himself, beating his brains out in desperation trying to remember something that might or might not have even happened.
Had it been something traumatic far back in his past? Something FAR worse than monkeys or insects? Or had it just been some old childhood nightmare? And then, like an automated film projector at the theatre, his mind began to play internal "footage" of something that he had long forgotten about - and really didn't want to remember:
Deep in his mind, the mists of time and memory parted, and he saw himself - his much younger, five-year-old self - standing at the end of the long, upstairs hallway of his childhood home. It was nighttime, with everything shrouded in hazy shades of black and gray, and strangely enough, a thick, ominous, unnatural-looking fog that obviously didn't belong anywhere indoors.
The hallway - in a sudden, surreal moment - expanded and stretched itself out - to the point where it looked like the landing of the stairs was now over a mile away from where little Ron was standing. To his young, undeveloped mind, it looked as though the dark, scary hallway just stretched on forever and ever- a frightening, yawning tunnel that led to nowhere. At least nowhere good.
Through his mind's eye, teenage Ron watched apprehensively as young Ron gasped and wheezed in fear, with his freckled cheeks white as sheets and his brown eyes reduced to tiny, terrified little dots as he realized that he wasn't alone - at a fair distance down the hall, a monstrous figure was slowly approaching, a black, hazy mass that was ever-so-slowly coming into focus as it shambled closer and closer.
And there he was...standing not thirty feet away...looking just as Silas McDougall looked right now...the black, forbidding silhouette of an enormously tall man in a long dark coat, a wide-brimmed fedora hat, and completely faceless...save for a pair of scorching red eyes...
*klomp*...*klomp*...*klomp* went the hat-man's slow, heavy, doom-filled footfalls, echoing up and down the hall as he came closer and closer. And then, a deep, horrible, malice-filled voice thundering inside his head that barely even sounded human:
you worthless little pile of scum...
Ron's 5-year-old self was frozen to the spot with terror. He tried crying out for his parents, but no sound came out. In his terror, he began to suck his thumb, a habit that his mother and father thought he had long since given up.
don't you run away from me you speck of dirt...
Overcome with fright, he began to cry, though his shrill, choking sobs were completely mute.
disappear back into the dust where you belong...
The hat man was close, now. Very close. Just a few paces away and getting even closer. Despite his paralyzing sense of dread, Ron's younger self suddenly began to feel strangely sleepy...as though all energy and vigor had been completely drained from him. He began to sway back and forth as his short, wobbly legs started to give out-
"UGGGGHHHH!" Ron shivered violently and his head swam confusedly as he came back to the present, suddenly feeling very cold and fatigued. "YEEESHH!" he muttered to himself as his surroundings slowly came back into focus. "What...the...hell...was...THAT all about?" he thought, numbingly, as he tried his best to make sense of the chilling vision that his mind had just mercilessly forced him to witness. Or rather, re-live.
Had this...really happened to him? Years and years ago? Or did he just dream it up back when he was a young child with an overactive imagination? And then the passage of time did its thing, and it was erroneously filed under 'REAL' instead of 'FALSE'?
The memory was so overwhelmingly vivid, part of him thought that it simply must have been genuine...
No...it was nothing more than a horrid nightmare...after all, everyone gets those at every stage of life...monsters and phantoms weren't real, and something like that could NEVER happen within the bounds of the real world...
...or could it?
He gulped as he felt his arms break out in sudden, unexpected gooseflesh.
"Great..." thought Ron, sadly. "Yet something ELSE for me to be scared of..."
Silas then turned away from the elated Dr. Maxwell to hail Kim and Ron.
"Good morning, Miss Possible" he said in his friendly tone, his eyes still burning like coals.
"Good morning...Mr. McDougall" said Kim, slowly and hoarsely, suddenly feeling like she needed a jacket.
He turned and looked past her towards the grim-faced Ron. "And a good morning to you as well, Mr. Stoppable" he continued. Rufus made a strange growling noise as he narrowed his eyes into hostile, snake-like slits. Ron glanced worriedly at his pet and then faced Silas with a forced, awkward smile.
"Uh...g-good morning, sir!" he stammered, with a salute. "Don't gobble up my soul...pretty please" thought Ron. "With what I eat, I'd likely be awfully high in cholesterol...and not the GOOD kind..."
Silas nodded as he turned back to Kim while bearing an almost-believable expression of tender concern.
"Were you unwell the other day, Miss Possible?" asked Silas. "My deepest apologies. I must confess, my drawing room tends to get a bit warm and...stuffy...and my guests have a tendency to lose their composure. I suppose it was terribly foolish of me to have had a fire blazing on such a hot Summer's day. Such overkill..."
"Oh...I-I'm fine now, sir" answered Kim hesitantly, hoping desperately that the sick, panicky feeling wouldn't suddenly steal over her again. "I'm very sorry I left so abruptly, but...like you, uh, said, I must have just overheated. But I'm feeling much better now. I really appreciate your concern!"
"I'm pleased to hear it" answered Silas. "After all, I wouldn't want anything...untoward...to happen to you."
He then cast a cold, hard gaze on Ron.
"Or your partner."
Silas' eyes met Ron's with a transfixing glare, Ron feeling as though he had just been impaled through the chest with a dart of ice. Silas then locked eyes with Rufus, who suddenly let out a strange wailing sound and swiftly clambered back into Ron's pocket.
He turned back to Maxwell with a pleasant grin.
"Dr. Maxwell, Miss Possible, Mr. Stoppable, would you please follow me down the hall to the conference room?" he asked. "There are a several things we need to cover before the museum opens to the public in an hour."
"Certainly, sir!" said Maxwell with energetic zeal. "In fact, please allow me to lead the way!"
"Of course!" said Silas.
"Please do!" said Klaus.
Ron slid over to Kim's side and inclined himself towards her ear. "Y'know, KP, even if Silas IS a freak among freaks, at least he has the common courtesy to remember my name...seems like not just anyone can do that!" he laughed. "Kim?...uh...KP?"
Ron noticed that Kim's face had suddenly fallen into a pallid mask of cold, lethargic depression. "Y-yeah, sure Ron..." answered Kim, listlessly, the pretty blush that had shaded her face just minutes earlier having vanished completely and been replaced with a sick, pale visage. She slowly stumbled forward and followed Silas, Klaus and Maxwell out of the room without a word, leaving the befuddled Ron hanging - and completely dumbfounded.
"What is going on with her?" he said aloud to himself - it seemed as though whenever she got near Silas and Klaus, she would just wither down into a weak, sickly shadow of her former self.
Ron stared concernedly at the downcast Kim as she walked away, feeling a deep sense of sadness and pity for her - which suddenly gave way to a strong, protective urge that shot through his body like a jolt of electricity. His blank expression gradually turned stony and grim as he walked briskly after her, determined not to let her sink helplessly into a cold pit of despair and loneliness all over again.
"Just hang on, KP" he whispered under his breath.
Kim trudged gravely after Silas, Klaus and Dr. Maxwell, feeling as though every shred of strength and positivity had been sucked right out of her - until she suddenly felt a warm, firm hand slip over hers and grip it tight. She glanced to her left and saw Ron smiling back at her, his warm, brown eyes seemingly melting the ice around her spirit.
"We've got this, Kim. You and I. You just stay close to me, today...okay?" he whispered. She felt her heart skip a beat as he leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. The crushing sense of foreboding that had been hanging so heavily over her for days seemed to suddenly and inexplicably lift.
"Ron...thank you..." she whispered, feeling hot tears well up in the deep, green wells of her eyes.
"Oh, and hey!" exclaimed Ron with a smile, as he reached into his pocket and pulled out something wrapped in a napkin, "I've STILL got one more donut, if you want it...oh...well, HALF a donut...looks like Rufus got to it, already..."
Kim just laughed and laughed as her tears and malaise seemingly evaporated.
7:35 a.m., Monday, June 15, Middleton Museum of Nature and Science
Even though roughly ninety minutes remained before the museum even opened, the line to get into the exhibition stretched well around the block, across the adjacent street and then onto the following city block. Occupying a spot around the middle of the line, and in spite of the already rapidly rising heat, was a strange individual swaddled in an oversized, old-fashioned brown duster jacket, a black Stetson hat, and large, dark glasses that nearly obscured all of his facial features. He looked like the shady 'burglar' cartoon caricature on those 'Neighborhood Watch' flyers, so if he was trying to look blatantly conspicuous, he had definitely succeeded.
"Hey, nice outfit, weirdo!" said some young, baby-faced punk kid with spiky bleached hair and multiple piercings as he aggressively pushed the man from behind. "You cold today or somethin', grandpa?"
The strange man slowly turned around to face his tormentor, causing the punk and his friends to burst into spiteful laughter as they pointed and jeered. "You okay, old man?" asked the kid, mockingly. "Getting enough fiber in your diet, el constipato?"
The strange man then reached up to his face, and with a pale, green hand, slowly removed his enormous shades. A bright, venomous green glow emanated from the eyes as a rumbling, bestial, snarling noise rose from beneath the upturned jacket collar.
The now-silent kid and his friends toddled backwards in fright with terror-stricken faces as the strange man turned around and coldly gave them his back.
"...Uh, s-sorry, Mister..." whined the punk kid in a quivering voice, but the strange, pale man didn't acknowledge him at all.
"Dumbass" he muttered to himself, as he pulled a large copper-colored metallic flask - embossed with the image of a burning skull - from inside his jacket and took a large swig of premium, top-shelf single-malt scotch. "Ahhhhh..." he sighed, in satisfaction. "Breakfast of champions..." He had filled his flask with his finest 'morning scotch' for today's little...project, and now, he was in a good mood. A great mood, even-
"I know, it's SUCH bullshit..." said a snarky voice, standing in line directly in front of him.
Squirreling away his flask, the pale man looked up and watched as an attractive, but tyrannical-looking brunette teen with a TERRIBLE, muddled-looking tan complained loudly into her cell phone, while a tall and hulking young man - looking desperately like he wanted to be somewhere else - stood silently and awkwardly right next to her.
"They're timed-tickets, Tara, and Brick just HAD to screw up and get the 9:05 a.m. ones INSTEAD of the 9:00 a.m. ones! Can you BELIEVE that?"
"Bonnie, I did the best I could!" protested the young man. "They were already sold out of the 9 a.m. ones when I made reservations for us!"
"Shhhhh, Brick, can't you see I'm on the P-H-O-N-E? Ughhhh..."
As Bonnie complained to Tara (whom she had woken up) about how she was "languishing in the streets", she glanced off to the side and noticed a coffee & breakfast concession stand across the avenue, set up beneath a large, cheerful-looking red and white striped umbrella. She was hungrily eyeing the pastry case the same way a crocodile would eye wayward livestock that wandered too close to the water's edge.
"Brick! I need you to get me a venti cappuccino and an 'everything' bagel!" she nagged with a sour face, as she sharply motioned across the street with her free hand.
"Now? Like, right...now?" asked Brick.
"No, Brick, after we graduate. From college...YES, NOW!" she bellowed, startling everyone else in line as they turned their heads about in confusion, looking for the source of the ruckus.
"Who the hell's caterwauling back there?" screeched a cranky old woman with a walker. "SHADDAPP' already!"
"O-okay, I'm going, I'm GOING!" said Brick cautiously, trying his best not to agitate her any further.
"And make sure you get me REAL cream cheese on the bagel, not that nasty lite stuff!...No, no, I changed my mind, I DO want the lite! And you make CERTAIN that bagel's toasted golden brown..."
Brick plodded gloomily across the street, looking like a condemned man on his way to the gallows. Bonnie rolled her eyes and scoffed irritably as she replaced the phone back to her ear. "So yeah, Tara, it's just, like, a TOTAL CATASTROPHE this morning! And also, can you BELIEVE..."
The pale young man pulled out his flask and took another drink.
"Goddamn, what a frigid bitch" he muttered.
7:45 a.m., Monday, June 15, Interstate Highway, Downtown Middleton
With a goofy lopsided grin, James Possible bobbed his head from side to side and sang happily to himself as he drove down the freeway on his daily route to the Space Center, constantly checking the speedometer to ensure that he wasn't exceeding the speed limit. After (wisely) rolling up his windows, he had turned up the radio's volume to near-maximum and begun to sing along to Sheena Easton's "9 to 5", though with altered lyrics about his wife, Ann:
"My baby takes the mornin' train,
She spends all day workin' on brains,
She takes the cerebellum out,
She...uh...likes her hot dogs with...sauerkraut...!"
It had been a strange morning at the Possible household, and he was deeply concerned about his wife's troubled reaction to their daughter's new mission, though truth be told, he was just as anxious as she was. His thoughts were swiftly shifted to the back burner, however, when he noticed the threatening, tempestuous solid-black skies stretching all the way from East to West. With wide eyes and a gasp, he immediately stopped singing and switched off the radio.
"Holy smokes!" he cried, as he looked straight ahead at the gathering storm on the horizon. It was only a tender 7:45 a.m., and whatever nastiness was brewing down South already looked strong enough to spawn hailstorms, floods and tornadoes. Lightning - shaded with a curious red hue - flickered repeatedly all across the gloomy expanse while dark gray rain bands were already becoming visibly clear all along the storm's underside.
"Hmmmmm..." said James with narrowed eyes and a stiffly set jaw. "I might be a man of science...but that sure looks like an awfully bad omen to me...someone better run and tell Auntie Em!"
He laughed uproariously to himself at his silly little 'Dad joke', but then quickly hushed up when he remembered that he had no audience.
"Awwww, what's the use of having all these absolutely showstopping zingers on hand with no one around to hear em'?" he wailed.
The faintest, rumbling peal of thunder rolled far off in the distance, sounding eerily like some kind of death-knell being tolled for the world.