Science Fiction and Fantasy Box Set 1: The Squishies Series
Page 4
Print Edition:
ISBN 13: 978-1-938988-04-2
ISBN 10: 1938988043
E-book Edition:
ISBN 13: 978-1-938988-09-7
ISBN 10: 1938988094
Published in the United States by Ragz Books
Illustration by Claire Chilton
DEDICATIONS
This book is dedicated to Margaret and Jonathan for their love, support and kindness.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I’d like to thank all the wonderful authors I’ve encountered on my journey as a writer for their continual support and friendship, with a special thanks to Trin and Eileen for their exceptional work and support on this book.
Carla Mainston tried to ignore the panic bubbling in her stomach as the butch-looking nurse tightened a torque around her upper arm. She stared down at the lilac skin on her forearm for a moment before glancing up and wincing when the green-skinned nurse held up a vicious-looking syringe.
I hate needles.
“Screw this.” Carla jumped out of her seat. “I’ve changed my mind.”
The nurse pushed her back into the chair. “Don’t be such a baby. It’s just a vaccination.”
Carla eyed the clear liquid as it rolled out of the tip of the needle and splashed onto the green linoleum floor. The liquid sizzled on the rubber.
“Vaccination for what? I’m pretty sure I don’t need acid or whatever that crap is in my body.” She struggled against the nurse’s iron grip on her arm.
“It’s perfectly safe. It’s been sent here by the top scientists in the colony,” the nurse said in a soothing voice.
“Oh well, that makes me feel much safer. Glad to hear that the experts in cleaning products have been working on it,” Carla muttered as she tried to wriggle out of the chair.
“There’s no need to over-react,” the nurse said.
“I’m allergic!” Carla lied. “I’m a purple-skinned traveler from the colony of bullshittio, and er, if you put that in me, I’ll die!”
“You’ve been at this school for five years, and I know your mother! Stop lying, and stop being such a baby about it. It’ll hurt more if you struggle.”
“Stop being such a psycho about it. It’ll hurt less if you don’t stick that thing in me,” Carla cried as she kicked out, knocking the medical stand full of vials over in the process.
“I need some help in here!” The nurse called out to the closed door as she tried to pin Carla to her seat while still holding a syringe in her left hand.
The door burst open, and Carla scowled as her BSC teacher, Ms. Kaladin, rushed into the room. “Oh great, more sadists.”
“Miss Mainston, there is no need for this. Why do you always have to make a big fuss over everything?” Ms. Kaladin’s old, green face scowled down at her as she grabbed her free arm and held her down in the chair.
Through the open door, Carla saw a line of green-skinned students waiting for their injections. At the end of the corridor there was an older man speaking to a blue-skinned younger man.
“Help!” she cried, struggling against the two women that were holding her down.
No one paid her much attention other than the blue guy, who turned to stare at her. There was a frown on his face and concern in his eyes.
“Help me,” she pleaded.
His frown deepened, and he made a move toward her, but the green man beside him gripped his arm and turned him to face him instead.
She felt a moment of hope blossom in her chest as the blue man shook off the green guy and turned, striding toward the open door with a look of determination on his handsome face.
She watched the green guy behind him scowl as the blue man headed towards her. She frowned with recognition as she stared at the green man.
Is that Lord Foamy? What the hell is he doing here?
Lord Foamy owned half of Derobmi. He was often seen at big events in the city. He was rarely seen in school corridors.
She shook her head. Who gives a crap, right now?
She stared hopefully at the blue man as he neared the door, only to have her hope fizzle away as Ms. Kaladin glanced back and kicked the door shut in the blue man’s face.
“Oh, come on! This can’t be legal. I don’t want a stupid injection.” Carla turned to face the nurse.
“Don’t worry, Carla. The vaccination can’t make you any more of a freak.” She heard Danielle Albright’s snarky voice call through the closed door.
Carla scowled. She knew the vicious blonde teenager’s voice well enough from years of bullying.
“Don’t worry, Danielle. People can barely tell that you were lobotomized at an early age. It’s only obvious when you gawp at them.” Carla shouted back through the door as she tried to pull her arm out of the nurse’s iron grip.
“Carla, give it a rest.” Ms. Kaladin scowled down at her. “And stop bloody kicking me!”
“Bite me, you old heifer.” Carla narrowed her eyes at the teacher, but then widened them in shock as she felt something sharp poke into her arm.
No!
She glanced down to see the nurse pulling the syringe out of her arm, then dab it with a cotton bud.
“See it wasn’t so bad,” the nurse said with a smile.
Carla’s stomach churned as the nurse slapped a strip of surgical tape over the cotton bud. For the first time in her life, she felt a bit green as she leaned over the arm of the chair and threw up on Ms. Kaladin’s sensible shoes.
When she’d finished retching, she glanced up from her sprawled position in the chair and smiled weakly at Ms. Kaladin, whose expression rapidly changed from one of annoyance to one of pure horror.
Ms. Kaladin went into a purple rage, which really clashed with her usual complexion of lime-green. She scowled as she handed Carla a paper towel and a detention slip. “Get the hell out of here!”
Carla managed to grab her satchel and coat before several of the other pupils burst into the room, running to her aid as they began vigorously scrubbing their teacher’s shoes.
She was happy to leave when she heard the raspy tones of Ms. Kaladin ordering Jemima Stiller to do extra homework on the properties of a Stain Devil because Jemima had attempted to use one on a leather shoe.
Carla headed for the girls’ toilets after leaving the nurse’s office in a hurry. She wanted to find out what kind of a state she was in before she headed to the headmaster’s office.
She scowled down at her throbbing arm.
The school nurse is a butcher!
Her footsteps echoed on the bathroom tiles as she entered the restroom. She peered at the bottom of the stalls to ensure they were empty.
Once she was certain she was alone, she turned on the cold water tap and leaned over it, drinking some and spitting some out to remove taste of bile from her mouth.
She stood up and wiped her chin on her sleeve before she stared into the mirror mounted on the white-tiled wall above the pristine white sink.
Her face seemed more purple than usual because her lilac skin had reddened with anger. Her hair was sticking out in a wild mass of black curls, and her eyes seemed to glow green.
She still felt queasy and out of place, but then in Derobmi, she’d always been out of place. She was the only purple girl in the colony after all.
She rolled up her sleeve and stared at her damaged arm. The cotton bud was dotted with red blood.
She gazed at it and sighed.
I’ve been violated.
She glanced down and saw a blob of blood on the rolled up sleeve of her white blouse. She quickly scrubbed it until it was reduced to a brownish stain.
“Great,” she muttered to herself. “Just perfect!”
She slammed her bag on the floor and scowled at the detention slip in her hand.
It was a small, lime-green piece of folded paper with red writing on it, addressed to ‘Headmaster Saunderson’.
She frowned. Detention slips weren’t usually written in red. She opened the note and read the bold red print.
In blue ink beneath the print, Ms. Kaladin’s unmistakable handwriting was scrawled across the bottom of the paper.
IN THE NURSE’S STATION BY MS. KALADIN (BSC LEVEL TUTOR).
Carla frowned.
They’ve printed out a batch of these especially for me!
Did she write this out in advance?
It was only week one of her fifth year. They didn’t have very high expectations of her, did they?
She shook her head and looked sadly at the letters BSC. A BSC was a Basic Scrubbing and Cleaning qualification in the small colony of Derobmi, and the lowest qualification that the education system had to offer.
She sighed again, picked up her bag and set off for the Administration Office. This is so unfair!
A loud smashing sound caused Carla to jump.
“Crap!” A deep male voice echoed across the quad.
She frowned in the direction of the voice. The quad corridor was empty. She noticed a blue hand poking out around the corner, sweeping up broken glass ahead of her.
Ignoring the fact that she was supposed to be begging the headmaster to give her a second chance right now, she hurried towards the arm.
She turned the corner and peered down at a muscled, blue-skinned man, who was wearing a lab coat. It was the guy that had tried to save her earlier. He was kneeling down and sweeping up broken glass with his bare hands. She frowned down at him.
Is he a new teaching assistant?
She glanced at the nearby classrooms. She’d been at this school for five years, and there were rarely any new teachers. It seemed that even the oldest ones at the school refused to retire or drop dead.
“Er, aren’t you supposed to be in class?” His voice made her jump, and she glanced down to meet a pair of bright blue eyes.
He was only a couple of years older than she was.
“Aren’t you?” she asked.
He narrowed his eyes at her. “I’m a scientist, not a student,” he muttered.
She glanced down at the fallen vials he was sweeping up into a cardboard box. Three of them had smashed open and were now sizzling on the tiles.
“What are they?” She nodded at the bubbling liquid.
“Vaccination shots.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, I know that. But why are they sizzling? Are they supposed to do that?” She stared at the fizzing liquid.
He frowned at them. “Er, probably. Are you okay?” He appeared genuinely concerned.
“I’ll live, thanks. Why don’t you know what they’re supposed to do? I thought you were a scientist.”
“I’m just delivering them.” He stood up, lifting the box off the floor as he rose.
“Ah, you’re a delivery boy?” She eyed his muscled blue arms as they tensed under his rolled-up sleeves.
He scowled at her. “I’m a—”
“Parklon, what the hell are you doing?” A sharp voice echoed down the corridor, interrupting them.
Carla peered around the blue guy to see the austere green face of Lord Foamy scowling at them both.
She glanced back at the blue guy named Parklon. He rolled his eyes before turning to face Lord Foamy with a smile. “Just checking the contents, sir.”
“Hurry up!” Lord Foamy narrowed his eyes.
She frowned. Foamy seemed much nicer on the television.
“What are you doing? Why aren’t you in class?” Foamy shot her a steely glare.
Why does everyone keep asking me that?
“Had to have an injection.” She narrowed her eyes at him.
“Good, now go play somewhere else,” Foamy boomed.
She fought her instinct to tell him to get stuffed while eyeing the broken vials on the floor. She was in enough trouble for one day.
“Sure thing.” She smiled brightly before turning in her heel and hurrying toward the side exit of the quad.
She glanced back to see Foamy staring at her. When he noticed her looking, he snatched the box out of Parklon’s hands before turning on his heel and striding away.
Parklon watched him for a moment before shrugging and walking toward the main entrance.
Carla frowned as she stepped out onto the school grounds.
What’s Lord Foamy got to do with the annual vaccinations?
She shook her head, ignoring her own question as she hurried across the sports pitch toward the Headmaster’s office, which was inside the administration building.
She paused as she stared at the administration building. It was an impressive building with green marble pillars lining the stone steps up to its oak double doors. The original name of Dunmount Boys School was still engraved in the stone plinth above the doors as a historical reminder from a time before the school had been merged with Winghill Girls School to create the current, Dunghill Secondary Modern.
The old, main building of the school was now a base for the staff to use for ‘administrative procedures’, which usually meant sitting and drinking cups of tea. Meanwhile, the students were left to learn in ugly portable cabins that were dotted around the grounds.
She glanced back at the cabins and grimaced. They had barely any heating in the winter and were saunas in the summer months.
She winced when she noticed a tall, blond-haired boy walking past the cabins towards her. It was her perfect brother, Joe.
“Hey.” She offered him a lame wave.
“Hey. What are you doing here?” Joe asked as he approached her. “You’re not in trouble already, are you?” He stopped in front of her.
“What? No, don’t be silly. I’m just dropping something off for Ms. Kaladin.” She lied through her teeth. Joe was great, perfect even, and he never did anything wrong. She had no complaints about having him as her big brother. He always stood up for her and watched out for her, but she hated telling him she was in trouble. The worried look on his face always brought about a range of guilty feelings, which she would prefer not to experience.
“What brings you here?” she asked, attempting to change the subject.
“The coach wanted to talk about this year’s Jimble season.” Joe nodded toward the Jimble pitch behind him. “So everything’s okay, then?” he asked when he turned back toward her.
“Yep, all good.” She smiled, trying to conceal any guilt she might have had about lying. Joe looked tired today. Normally, he was bright and beautiful, but today he seemed a bit pale.
She didn’t see him as often now that he’d graduated and started college, even though the college was on the same grounds as the school.
Maybe they’re working him too hard. All the extra activities he did had to tire him out at some point.
He was the polar opposite of Carla. He was green, popular, and everyone’s favorite, but he was also a good guy and probably the only person in Derobmi who ever defended her when she got into trouble.
“Don’t let them work you too hard,” she said. “And take a day off. You look wrecked.”
“Yeah, I think I’m having a reaction to the vaccinations or something,” he said. “Actually, I’m heading home right now. See ya later.” He gave her a quick wink and walked toward the entrance gates of the school grounds.
She narrowed her eyes. I better not get ill from that crap, or I’ll...
She paused. She didn’t know what she’d do, but she was pretty certain it would be more painful to her attackers than a needle in the arm.
She watched Joe for a while as he walked out of the school grounds, and she wondered how he managed to please everyone so easily.
Probably because he doesn’t lie through his teeth very often. She shook her head. It wasn’t as if she lied very often. Probably because he isn’t purple.
She sighed and climbed the pristine stone steps to the main door of the impressive manor house, and walked into a huge hall. The entrance hall was vast. She stared up at the intricately painted ceilings while hearing her footsteps echo on the shiny marble floor
s as she crossed the foyer.
She had always been fascinated by the religious murals painted on the ceiling in the old hall, which depicted the Gods of Derobmi in all their glory. There was the almighty Ajax with the golden duster, Jif brandishing a steely toilet brush, and beside him, Mr. Muscle brought serenity to an oven.
She stared in awe for a few minutes at the bright colors and intricate details of the lovingly painted ceiling.
She sighed with the knowledge that her future didn’t hold anything that beautiful in it as she climbed the green marble staircase up to the headmaster’s office with a sense of defeat. She’d had big hopes and dreams about her future until the school’s Careers Day.
She had wanted to do something creative and interesting with her life, to help people develop and grow. Maybe paint inspirational ceilings or advertise multi-purpose mops when she left school.
She didn’t want to end up working in the local detergent factory or serving coffees at the local Starbucks, which really were everywhere.
She wanted a career, something she believed in and could make a difference doing, something where she could meet amazing people and do wonderful things. She was sure there were amazing people out there. There just had to be!
“Miss Mainston!” A voice roared her out of her reverie. She stopped when she realized she’d reached the headmaster’s office door at the top of the stairs.
“Er, yes.” She turned to face the headmaster.
“It’s only week one. What are you doing here?” Saunderson lowered his voice, so the walls didn’t seem to shake anymore.
He was a very tall, thin man with patches of wispy gray hair on his head. He stared at her through horn-rimmed glasses, which framed his tired green eyes.