The Adventures of Moose and Skwirl

By Nikki Nelson-Hicks, Gordon Dymowski, R.P. Steeves and Percival Constantine

Trouble happens everywhere in the universe. Any time. Any place. And to make sure whatever cockeyed balance exists is kept, the universe takes care of itself. Some ethereal cosmic force assigns special individuals to the unpredictable, unrewarding, and usually life-threatening task of Troubletaking, being in the completely wrong places at the totally right times to hopefully keep everyone... or most everyone from dying. But the universe doesn't trust just one person to do this. No, it works in groups of two.

Stocky, barrel-chested, two-fisted and sarcastic, the being known as Moose stands ready to deliver a soliloquy over the bodies of whoever gets in his way. And Selene Karanova Wirl, Skwirl for short, is seductive, sexy, and wields a sense of humor that could kill almost literally. These two ‘TroubleTakers’ travel space and time very much at random, figuring out whatever issue they are thrown into and then fixing it. In their own unique, usually very destructive, bloody style. The only trick is they often have to keep from killing each other first.

Authors R.P. Steeves, Percival Constantine, Nikki Nelson-Hicks and Gordon Dymowski travel the universe to bring to life a concept created by Tommy Hancock. The Adventures of Moose and Skwirl. From Pro Se Productions.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pro Se Press
• Release date: Nov 9, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310633553

Nikki Nelson-Hicks

Nikki Nelson-Hicks has been described by a fellow writer as the unholy lovechild of Flannery O'Connor and H.P. Lovecraft and is burdened with the reputation as a damn good shag. She can be stalked on twitter as Nikcubed or Facebook where she is constantly or you can get more insights into her unfolding neurosis on her blog, www.nikcubed.blogspot.com.

Book preview

THE ADVENTURES OF

MOOSE AND SKWIRL

Edited by Kristi King

Published by Pro Se Press

This book is a work of fiction. All of the characters in this publication are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is purely coincidental. No part or whole of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage or retrieval system, without the permission in writing of the publisher.

Copyright © 2015 Pro Se Productions

Kids, They Blow Up So Fast © 2015 by Nikki Nelson Hicks

All Roads Lead to Rome © 2015 by Gordon Dymowski

The Physician Is Out © 2015 by R.P. Steeves

Land of Savages © 2015 by Percival Constantine

Characters created by Tommy Hancock

All rights reserved.

Contents

Kids, They Blow Up So Fast

by Nikki Nelson Hicks

All Roads Lead to Rome

by Gordon Dymowski

The Physician Is Out

by R.P. Steeves

Land of Savages

by Percival Constantine

About the Authors

Kids…They Blow Up So Fast

by

Nikki Nelson-Hicks

—

Uuuuugh, Moose was flat on his back and the ball in the center of his chest made it hard to breathe. There were sounds of gunfire in the distance. Screams. Very high pitched screams. Followed by the low guttural shouting of very angry men.

Where was he now? What sort of hellhole had he been drug into this time? He kept his eyes shut as he felt around with his thick, calloused hands, making a game of it. The ground was hard, like he was lying in the middle of a highway. Tarmac. Chunks of stone stabbed him through his rented tux. The air was thick with the smells of exhaust and fuel. There was a rumble vibrating through the tarmac, like the purring of a huge cat. An airport? Where the hell was Skwirl? She’d be here somewhere. Probably in the thick of it all. Find those gunshots and I bet she’s somewhere close.

The medicine ball on top of him squirmed.

Uhh! Moose’s eyes popped open. An impossibly beautiful young girl with a head full of tangled blonde curls and freckles on top of her dirt smudged nose sat on his chest. Her cupid bow lip quivered as she looked down at him with sky blue eyes brimming with tears.

Help me! Please! Don’t let them kill me!

* * *

There was a hunt. Skwirl remembered that clearly. The sounds of the hounds baying in the distance and the sour smell of her horse’s sweat as she rode the beast hard, hard, harder! after the prey. She had it in her sights and was about to bear down on it when she felt a familiar tug…

Blast!

She landed on her feet in what looked like a hangar in an airfield except for the small but very active revolution exploding all around her.

Same old, same old. she muttered and hid behind a crate to assess the situation. Skwirl reached for her Peacemaker, the special one with all the wonderful options. She particularly enjoyed using this model for the array of justice it could mete out. One switch turned the butt a brilliant shade of emerald green for lasers. Flip another switch and the butt glowed a shiny canary yellow and the gun shot out rubber bullets that rendered any living thing it hit unconscious. And then there was the third switch that turned the butt a sinister shade of black. The Decider bullets. Instant death to any living object.

She pulled her monocle out of her vest coat. With a slight pressure of her brow the monocle’s view telescoped outwards bringing the worst of the fight to her instead of vice versa.

There were a squadron of men in black uniforms, military from their precise deadly movements, and they were firing upon a group of men and women in white coats. Scientists? Doctors? And there were others, smaller figures running alongside the White Coats. Skwirl arched her brow and her vision went in closer. Oh, yes. It was obvious now. Children.

Ah.

She felt a cold rage in the pit of her stomach. It was obvious what she was here to do.

She smiled a little too slyly and flipped the third switch.

The Peacemaker felt heavier in her hand.

Not yet. She took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. Not until we know the full story. You of all people should know better. She flipped the third switch off and flipped the first switch. The gun hummed a shade of canary yellow.

She took aim at the closest black uniform. He was firing at two White Coats who were running away. Coward. she said under her breath as she started to pull the trigger.

Suddenly a shadow fell over her, breaking her line of fire. What?

It was a young boy, about ten years old, a beautiful boy with unkempt ginger hair and green eyes like someone out of a nursery rhyme. Or he would be if he wasn’t baring his teeth like a mad dog.

GRRRRROWOWORRRLRLR! he screamed as he lunged at her.

Skwirl reflexively pulled the trigger and the boy went down in a heap at her feet.

No! You stupid fool! I was trying to help you!

She attempted to grab him by his arms and drag him to safety but as she picked him up he vomited pinkish bubbles and convulsed so violently that he twisted out of her hands. Soon as he hit the asphalt, his skin broke out into red and pink pimples that, in seconds, blossomed into large blisters.

Skwirl gasped and took a step towards the boy. A black gloved hand pulled her away and pushed to the side.

CONTAINMENT, GET OVER HERE STAT! WE GOT A BLOSSOMER!

A man in black rushed over and shot a bubble of yellow goo that crystallized into a transparent cube, encasing the trembling boy inside.

What are you doing? He needs help!

Step aside, lady. Black Gloves kept her back. Just let us do our business.

The boy inside opened his eyes and focused them on Black Gloves. His lips curled up over his teeth, stained with blood from his blistered gums. He got up on his knees and threw his head back like a wolf baying at the moon, except his neck… the boy’s neck kept growing, elongated until the skin stretched painfully thin over the vertebrate so tight that Skwirl could count each ridge. His face held a rictus grin as the nightmare spread down to his arm and to his legs as his limbs started stretching, bending and twisting. The bones shattered and broke through the skin like white roots. The boy shuddered once and then collapsed as thin green stalks slowly slithered out of each bone shard. Each stalk grew a few inches and then thickened. Seconds later, an orange bulb, two centimeters across blossomed at the end of each green stalk. Within minutes a garden of small orange puff balls covered the boy. A minute later they exploded painting the inside of the cube with orange creamy spores.

The monocle fell off Skwirl’s face and swung like a pendulum on the gold chain. What… what was that?

The enemy. Black Gloves lifted up his mask to reveal a pock-marked soldier. Who the hell are you?

* * *

Come on! Hurry!

Wait a minute! Moose stopped, put his hands on his knees and huffed. It was all he could do not to throw up. He wiped his brow with the back of his hand and looked around. Crikes, was everything uphill here? Where was here, anyway? He looked up at the purplish sky. Well, that’s new.

She reached out for him but Moose pulled his hands away and shook his head. No. I’m not moving another inch until you tell me what we are running from. What happened back there?

She fiddled with a chain around her neck. I don’t want to talk about it.

I need to know what I’m up against.

No time! Come on! The girl gripped his hand and pulled him towards a copse of trees past the airfield. Moose winced. She had a hell of a grip. She nearly pulled him off his feet. At 5'10" he was not a very tall man but he did have some amount of pride in his girth if not his length. The fact this little slip of a thing could pull him down was beginning to ride his ego.

He set his jaw and scooped her up and tossed her over his shoulder. All right then, little Miss Thing. Moose said, Let’s go!

She squealed as he ran up the hill towards the trees. For the first time, he was able to get a good look at where he had been dumped. No clue as to what era or what country. He looked up at the lavender sky. Or even what planet. It was an airfield. That much was for sure. There were five or six hangers and beyond them some Quonset huts. Was this a military base? That would explain the gunfire but not the girl.

She was heavier than she appeared and Moose was starting to feel the strain as they entered into the tree line. She was wearing a baggy gray coverall, sturdy and durable. The material was like coarse denim and felt scratchy against his face. Utilitarian and no sense of fashion. That screamed military to Moose.

She slid off his shoulder and he leaned up against a tree.

Let’s go! The safehouse is just over there.

Safehouse? Is that where… whew… hold on a minute. The air is so thin. Let me catch my breath, okay…? What is your name anyway?

Her curly blonde hair trembled as she shook her head, exasperated. Ooooh, fine! She looked into his eyes and for a brief moment, Moose felt a slight static tingle. Tish. I’m Tish, okay? Can we go now?

Tish? I had a girlfriend named Tish once. Or was it a cat? A small, yellow tabby. Or was it a goldfish?

Does it matter? Let’s go! They could be right behind us!

Who? Please tell me, Tish. What happened? I can’t keep you safe if I don’t know what is out there.

Bad people. Her breath quickened and tears pooled up in her cornflower blue eyes. My daddy was running with me but… he got shot. He fell down. He told me to keep running. To make it to the safehouse. So I kept on running. She fiddled with the silver chain. Was that okay? Am I bad for not helping my daddy?

No, honey, no. Moose went down to one knee and pulled the girl close. He stroked her hair as she collapsed on his shoulder, sobbing. You did what your daddy told you to. I’ll help you get to the safehouse, don’t you worry.

Thank you, Mister. It’s not far now. She stiffened and pulled away.

What? What’s wrong? Moose turned and scanned the area around. Trees, nothing but trees and the setting sun sparkling off the rocks. Tish?

I need to… I need to go to the bathroom. Wait here. She started towards a mound of rocks. Don’t peek!

No worries, Tish. As a matter of fact, that sounds like a great idea. he said, looking for a patch of grass that needed hydrating.

* * *

A pair of brown eyes peeked over a mound of rocks and watched as Moose signed his name with great panache in the grass. Where the high hell did you pick up that globber?

Never mind. Tish said. Are you all that are left? Why aren’t you all at the safehouse?

Doctor Hallum didn’t make it. Caught a blast in the face. The boy attached to the peeking brown eyes jumped down and landed beside Tish. He was a portrait of rascally cuteness in his green coveralls with dirty blonde hair that stuck up in the