War with the Deranged Killer Mutant Monster Snow Goons

Exclaimer: I do not own the characters of Calvin and Hobbes, Susie, Moe, they are owned by Bill Watterson. I, however, created Billy, Mortimer and others.

Lumbering slowly through the froth of mud, water, and ice they came. First one, then another, and then another. Taking head was a great, six foot tall pillar of white with two heads and six branching arms and a sinister grin made from charcoal. A street was up ahead, no one was around, all was deserted. This neighborhood was all like the rest. Under their control. Those humans, pesky little humans. Fled before their very presence. Except this one. This little band, held up in a house nearby was a thorn in their side for days. Many goons were slain trying to scale those simple walls, but their defiance was undenying. It would take more and more, plus some brains which they considerably lack. Days and days of nothing more than pillaging one house after the other, and all they wanted was more. nothing could quench their parched lips or their void bellies. Human and after were taken away into the very depths of their lair, but it wasn't enough. Some were defiant in their fight for resistance. Others quivered in fear at their very sight, either gasp in disbelief that they were snowmen our their very appearance drove them to flight. All that seem to stand in their way now, was one last house, one with a black flag that hung limp from the dead wind, yet inside, there was bustling activity.

Crossing this very street seemed easy enough. One after the other in a long, thin line. Their intelligence seem to be growing. Not a mob. Now, these creatures were coordinated. It showed. Calvin lamented that with each encounter, they were turning more and more into an organized army complete with artillery and officers. Ever still was the fact that some humans were freed from a prison pen. No telling how many more were out there, in those woods. Going across, these goons felt no fear nor jubilation. They had none. No fear, no pain. That changed when there came a high pitch squeal. Looking up and pausing in their slumber lumber, there came a flash of lights then a great crash. Moans, groans, and shrieks came in rapid succession from many mouths as a car tore into the column as they crossed the street then spun out of control with the torso of one of their own still stuck to the hood.

"Turn the wheel! Turn the wheel!" shouted a voice in obvious distress.

Great confusion followed as this car spun wildly, then came to a jolting halt, staring right at this long column. Looking at one another, the goons turned into their infamous rage when they discovered it was a car with humans in it. Get them. Get them. That's what fueled their passion. Stomping hard on the accelerator, the car roared back to life as numerous creatures came to bear on them from three sides. Long branches screeched across glass, wanting in.

"Hurry! Hurry!" said the same voice with equal amounts of terror as the driver finally stomped down and the car roared off, plowing back into the goon group, blowing them aside or knocking them onto their hood where they slipped off to the left when their vehicle turned to the right and fled. All transpired in the space of just a few moments, yet, this little incident would have profound effect on upcoming events.

Patiently strolling along the very same snow walls as he did every day, Calvin paused to look at his clothes. They were the very same ones he wore for nearly a week.

"Mom will have a fit when he learns that I haven't changed my underwear," he grinned silently, before resuming his march. His defenses were strong and so was moral for the most part. His comrades took a prison pen that had fellow children in it, scared, cold, hungry. Those were all well now, save two which had suffered high fevers. No need to worry, Susie was tending to them, she was a good nurse. Hobbes was always busy, either working on his catapults or trying to devise new traps to place around the compound. He was good, though worn out. Everyone was worn out. It had been a week or so, lost track of time. Wondered if mom and dad suffered the same fate as everyone else.

"Hey Calvin!" came a familiar voice.

Looking up, facing the South east corner of the compound, there he was, Hobbes jauntily waving him over to come see what new trap he had placed. A smile to Calvin's hard face. Things were looking up in this war. Now they could take the offensive, to find others to come to their banner, or find a safe haven away from this nightmare. As he calmly walked towards him, little notes came to mind over what to do or what has happened. Food was good, the house still had heat, though it was rather crammed, most were sleeping on the floor with no blankets, clothes were soggy from prolonged exposure, faces dry and sensitive, plus untidy due to only one shower available for 100 children. There were no adults here, and among the oldest was Miller, but he wasn't fit to be a parent, taking care of 100 refugees. For a couple of days now, contact was attempted via telephone, the children used every number at their disposal to try and contact friends and family, to see if they were alive. Not a single one came through. But, the bright side was, there was dial tone and ringing, a benefit that the lines were not cut.

Arriving at Hobbes' side, the tiger, face covered in grime, proudly smiled as he showed his new confangled contraption.

"Tada!"

Looking down at it with a sense of wonder and dumb, "What is it?" Calvin finally asked.

"I call it, a flame thrower"

"How did you make one?" the boy asked, looking at the rather hogged weapon. Little more than a large foot pump attached to a container of gasoline with a long hose. At the crown, was a match, which was out at the moment.

"Like it?" asked Hobbes, sensing confusion from his companion.

"Yes," he said, "but how does it work?"

"Easy. Just stomp down on this foot press here, that forces gasoline through this hose and will be ignited by this match system here" he said with a wide smile.

"Great, but ummm. How do you turn it off?"

Next came a great silence as the tiger scratched his head.

"I guess this better be a last ditch weapon, right?" Hobbes asked.

"Agreed"

As this agreement was being brokered, then came the familiar squeal of rubber on ice. All eyes fell on the road. It couldn't be goons, they couldn't drive. Could they? No, it was that came car, coated in ice from their slain adversaries. They saw the house and tried to take the turn into the drive way much too fast and spun out again, this time in the middle of the front yard.

"Nice driving you lunk head" as the doors opened and out stepped Miller and Moe.

"Hey, at least I got us out of that trap back there," fumed Moe as he followed Miller back towards the house.

Those two went out on a recon mission this morning. Their spin outs and screeches could be heard for miles. It was a sign that they were still alive and perhaps enjoying themselves in this bound of freedom. Still, there were many questions that needed to be asked and answered by them. Calvin and Hobbes greeted them inside and there was much to be said.

Miller spoke first as he removed his coat. "We ran into a large group of them back at the old neighborhood, literally.

"We plowed into those suckers," laughed Moe as he walked off into the kitchen for a drink.

Watching him with disgust, Miller waited until he was gone before continuing. "That goon nearly got us killed with his wild driving. We plowed right into them, spun out, and barely managed to escape. They were all over us."

"So, another group is heading this way?" asked Calvin with a disdain look.

"I believe so. I also recommend that scouts move to other directions to see if they are trying to surround us again."

"I concur" Hobbes stated, "I'll take the North."

"I the west"said Calvin

"And I the East" said Miller.

Some bread and milk were all that was available before the trio hastily beat an exit outside to cover as much ground as possible before dark, which lingered only five hours away. Still, there was much to go over. Watching them fan out from the roof top, Billy was among several others as they tethered Molotov cocktails in preparation for another attack. This time, they had many. To further complement their arsenal above, Miller posted his best shots so their field of fire was unhampered like those firing through slits. Ammunition was hard to come by now. Several foraging parties went into houses known to have weapons and ammunition, but there was not much. It was back to sticks and rocks. What there was a lot of was snow. Yesterday, a heavy blanket fell, this created a concern. All that snow meant much more goons were being created. Perhaps there were thousands out there now, maybe millions. Not a single person had the guts though to jump the wall and take their chances. Either it was that or too cold to venture out. Either way, the garrison remained together, and worked together to save their lives. Clambering through the heavy white, Hobbes pressed harder and harder on his fatigued body to reach his destination, a section of road that connected neighborhoods. It was a nameless stretch of road, blank, unshoveled, forgotten. His arms crossed, hot breath creating wisps of steam. It was a road, but the homes here were dilapidated or under construction. No one lived here, ever. Beyond that, half way to the horizon was a low ridge with sparse trees. Other than that, it was a featureless terrain. Sighing to himself, the tiger turned east and resumed his walk, gradually drifting closer and closer to those buildings. Doubtful that there was anything of use in them.

Miller was also having little luck in his flight. His route took him towards aroadway that connected the two neighborhoods, but that was all under snow now and the forest hook around them and headed north as well. It was dense here as every where else and Miller did not want to go into it alone. So he paused and took it all in. There was no goon build up here. Yet, he remained cautious. Do not assume so easily. These were slick creatures. They could pop up anywhere.

Calvin kicked and murmured to himself. Spouting oaths about everyone and everything. He hated this so called war. It was all his fault they were in this predicament and he knew it. Problem was, he didn't know how to tell all of his friends. Sure, Hobbes knew that he created the first goon, but he didn't expect it to be evil. Question was, how do you kill it? They seem to be like ants, find the queen and kill it, then you kill the colony. Just how do you go up and do that? He wondered as he kicked some snow.

PIFF PIFF PIFF

What to do? Some days have past since Peach Hill, and their condition had improved some. Parties were moving about at will in gathering supplies, but Moe was taking a firm hand in what was being done in his home. He didn't was girls in his room, sick and wounded were moved into his parents room, and he had first chance at the bathroom. Even still, he gobbled down valuable food before it could be given to the others. More and more food was being taken from other abandoned homes, in order to feed all of them, but not enough to create more ammunition. Rocks, sticks, ammunition, all of that was being neglected and he feared it would come back to haunt them.

Too his right, he could barely make out the figure of Hobbes, then to his left, Miller. Just tiny specks. They were out of ear shot, but Hobbes was now looking into those houses, peering through windows and tarmat covered doors, Miller strolled along the tree line. Hobbes was loyal even to this extent. Never once did it waver. For these past three days, always busy but never once thinking about jumping over and abandoning everyone. Miller seemed cautious, but that was due to the fact that he was a leader to his group, thus, he was always up and moving, resting rarely and sleep was hard. Same for everyone. Ever wake up to a pair of stinky feet? Most haven't showered. He brought it up again. Groan. There was nothing here. It had only been less than an hour. Temperature was dropping fast. Best be back to the house before a snow flurry hit. Calvin turned to look back at the fort and was about to start walking when there came an intense roar.

ROAR!

There came a deep rumble. The trio held in place where they were, eyes darting around, trying to see where it came from.

"Why can't we do simple things?" Hobbes cried as he did an about face and beat a hasty retreat back towards the fort. His two companions also came up with the same idea. Don't look back. This they did. Through the houses, the tree line, and over the snow, from all three sides, came a solid line of killer mutant monster snow goons, in several ranks deep. All were coming down on these puny trio as they ran through the open field.

"Get up! Get up!" shouted Calvin, waving his beanie over his head as he ran, trying to alert those inside the fort, but they were out of hearing distance. Billy stood upright on the roof, seeing those three grow larger and larger, then the white monsters behind them as well.

"Get up! They're coming!" shouting down below as hard as he could. Their response was swift. Gun crews promptly manned Hobbes's catapults and aimed to fire as the boys and tiger climbed over the wall, out of breath. It was a close race, goons nearly had them. Looking over that north field, a massive, solid line, of goons of all sorts.

"Fire" cried one of Hobbes's catapults, unleashing one of the few remaining shells, fuse set to explode in just four seconds. Eyes watched as it arced high, coming down with a distant piff. Time came, nothing. No explosion. Curses rang out. It was a dud. Fuse went out. Defective powder.

BOOM

There it went. Shower of snow, dirt, and branches went into a heavy overcast sky, then rained back down.

Taking charge of his guns, Hobbes consolidated them, firing in sequence so there was no lull in his fire. All of it was being directed north. No small arms or barrage of rock came yet. Waiting for their range to close. Inside, Miller gathered his Greys as Susie helped wounded and sick that assisted in moving of ammunition, what was left of it. No slacking off here. It was real. Blood was pumping when Billy shouted that he sees more, this time coming from the South east and south.

"They have us surrounded" yelled Susie, whom observed through a slat of a bared window. Her wounded began loading rifles for Greys whom rested them on tables, ready to fire.

"No" replied Miller at her side, "There's a gap there in the South west. Perhaps our little run in threw off their encirclement."

Susie looked at him, dumbfounded. What was he getting at? From a bird's eye view, a solid ring of goons surrounded the house. This was going to be the last battle. But, a gap was there in the South west, stragglers were coming up to fill it, but it was still there. Working in concert, this semi ring began to close in. Catapults were working with a dwindling supply of ammunition, cutting great swaths in ranks. Reserved fill them up as quickly as possible. Working with a .22, Billy capped off two, trying to exploit the gap as his fellow sharps shooters tried to get some.

"This is nuts!" cried Calvin from a parapet, "They have attacked us time and again. Each time, we throw them back. When will they stop?"

"When we're all dead" yelled a young defender.

Remaining quiet, Calvin worked down this line, rifles, rocks, and stakes ready to repel this assault. Still out of range for these, he thought.

Kaunk!

Those catapults were a dream. Shells running out though, hope he gathered enough canister. Here he was, not a brat but a thinking commander. Some were clustered together, trying to stay in groups. Friends. Couldn't let this happen. There were gaps along the walls. No. Spread out. Telling, shouting, pushing, and prodding, this helped to move them around. Sure it seemed harsh, but it must be done to ensure a complete defense.

KAZING

Looking at Moe's roof. Billy fired once again. Goons looked and sounded like zombies from movies with their deifying dead moans and slow movement as their girths cut paths through this fresh blanket of snow.

BOOM

Another shell exploded, shredding a dozen to death, a gap was created, but promptly filled. Hmmm, he thought.

"Hobbes!" Calvin yelled to his friend just twenty feet away. "How many shells do you have left?"

Taking a count, an answer was quick, "Only five, why?"

"Save them. Wait till they come right up against them, then we'll roll them down."

"Like bowling?" Hobbes smiled.

"Exactly"

"Gunners, change to solid rock!" the tiger barked. There were six small catapults working, new ones were constructed over the deluge, all lined up perfectly.

Elsewhere, Miller was bracing for his chance. Goons were now moving towards him, crossing that iced asphalt. Wait. Wait till they come close. Rifles were at ready. A massive volley would have swept them to hell. Only persons firing their weapons were those sharpshooters, then they stopped, switching instead to their storage of Molotov cocktails. Almost. Ready?

"Fire!"

WHOOSH!

A solid, rapid noise and several goons tumbled and fell.

"Ready? Fire!" Miller cried as his Greys blazed away, taking down several more. Susie at first cried. This noise was terrible for her ears. Yet, over their roar, she could hear moans and groans as goons were cut apart. A smile came to her face, then she began to laugh.

So far, all was well. No casualties yet. Calvin was pleased. His defenders, despite their suffering, were taking a toll. There was still a gap to the South west, and with their numbers being taken, it continued to grow and grow. Suddenly, there came a roar above all others. It was high pitched, defiant. A shriek.

"Incoming!" someone shouted.

Like hail, ice came raining down all over the compound. What was this? Baseball size chunks of solid ice were hitting walls, the roof, and coming close to taking out the catapults. It wasn't nature causing this. Searching high and low, Calvin looked to see if goons were. Hail was taking sizable chunks out of his wall, tearing shingles and took out a window pane. They were getting smarter, just as he feared. Finally, there, in the clearing, the very same as the battle before were perhaps a dozen multi armed goons, flinging this ice. Darn it.

"Hobbes!" he cried, "Turn them around, and take those suckers out!"

"Can't, we just use the very last stone, all we have left is shell"

He cursed to himself. All this time, plenty of chances to replenish this stockpile, but foraging parties were more concerned about food and building walls than collecting stone and powder.

"Use it!" coming up with a conclusion. It was worth taking out this threat now than have them cause much more damage. As soon as Calvin yelled...

PAT!

AUGH!

A body fell on the roof, promptly caught by Billy. Matthew, a Grey, was hit by a piece of ice in the head. Bleeding profusely, Billy had to help him down so Susie could care for him. Laving his post, dragging the wounded comrade along, the boy stumbled and fell several times on this angled roof, but, he reached the ladder in the back yard and lowered him down, calling out for Susie to come and take him.

Close by, Hobbes turned his weapons around, estimating on their range. All the while, ice was raining down. Crew were cowering behind their weapons as they moved them about, shells already loaded, waiting for the order to fire. This tiger was a rock, oblivious to events around him. There was shouting, oaths, fire, and ice and he only concentrated on the range. Every shot counted.

"This tiger is a rock" a crew member muttered.

"Half charge" he said with his powerful voice.

Five shells left, only one drew back their strong arm half way, fuse was lit, then let go. It sailed and came to land just short of their targets. It exploded, but did nothing to hamper their operation.

"A little more," he corrected.

This time, the shell landed, but to their horror, did not explode. Darn dud.

"Hit them again! Full volley!" he shouted.

It was do or die now. If this didn't work, then they were in a fix. Loaded up, the last four were unleashed and landed admist their cluttered targets as fore seen, then, each one erupted in a brilliant pillar of smoke and snow. A black scare showed where one those goons were, it was done. Cheers broke out, but their episode wasn't over. Under the cover of their ice, the goons tightened their ring, pressing ever closer now to the fort. Now it was time to hit with stone.

"Let them have it!"

Volley after volley was being dealt, goons fell, their bodies pierces, some as many as twenty times before finally giving in, still, they kept going, determined. They wanted this to end, now. Still firing, Miller shouted in a now smoke filled house for more ammunition. It was nearly gone. Moe continued to throw stones from the North west corner, carelessly mounting the wall to get a better shot. He didn't care if the enemy was nearly nipping at his toes, every throw took down another of his enemies, and he was enjoying it.

"Haw Haw, die you twinkies!" he laughed.

Others were more scared, throwing without aiming. Calvin tried to rally them, no cowards here. No need to be. Cocktails were now being thrown down. Rivers of yellow flame swept across the lawn. They were deadly close. Desperate to fend them off, and his weapons now exhausted of ammunition, Hobbes leapt for the chance to try his flame thrower. He found it in the South east corner, this is where he would have to use it for they were closer here than anywhere else. Everything was intact, undamaged from the hail. Taking and striking some matches, Hobbes placed the hose in his hands, aiming over the wall, left foot resting on the pump. Some were watching him. Expecting a show, they stopped to see this, allowing goons to come closer.

"Suck on this!" Hobbes yelled, slamming his foot down. Gasoline passed through the hose and touched the flame. It worked. Flames spewed as he worked it left and right. Range wasn't much, however, just around twenty feet, but it worked in keeping them back. It was so intense, that the wall itself began to melt. He was enjoying, Hobbes was, goons, not so much, but then it all stopped. Working the pump, it was empty, gasoline was used up. So soon? Yes, The can was nicked and leaking. Something overlooked. Throwing down the hose, the tiger jumped down to find Calvin. That whole event took only a few seconds, maybe a minute. It was a blur though it happened recently. All his traps and inventions were now useless. All were used up. But, it wasn't all bad.

"They are retreating!" Billy yelled down below.

Too their surprise, it was true. Fed up with loses, the goons were moving back, just out of range of stone, if they knew that there were any left. Were they retreating for good, or just regrouping? No one knew. What was known was that ammunition was gone, completely. No more stone or shell, no more bullets or cocktails.The ring was still there though. Only five minutes passed, then they came back. No retreat. Watching in horror as they came, Calvin thought to himself what to do next.

Threw them off once. Doubtful with they could do it again. Wounded were few, but their numbers were insignificant if they attack again. Hobbes and his crew disbanded to fill up the gaps along the walls. Billy was out of cocktails. Everything was out except their spirit. Their foe, was out there, numbers vastly depleted. It seemed that their will power was greatly sapped following their discharge. Gaps were many, no more hail coming down, all that lay before them were the many bodies of comrades.

"Hobbes," said Calvin, never taking their eyes off from the field, "Make sure everyone has a stake."

"What's your plan now?" asked his friend.

"We attack"

A smile came to his face, both of them. Wooden stakes were given to everyone. Miller took out all of his men outside, following Calvin's order, but questioned what was going on.

"We are out of ammunition. What do you propose we do now? Hit them with sticks and stones?" he asked greatly angered, his face smeared with smoke and dirt.

"Exactly" said the much cleaner Calvin.

Dumbfounded at first, it took a moment for Miller to understand what the boy was coming up with in his mind.

All along the walls, nervous bodies waited, stakes resting on the walls. Waiting for another attack. Outside, goons were gathering again, trying to recover their losses. Wounded were being tended to, or new ones were being built right before them. A heavy silence fell over them. It was eerie. What do they do now?

Moving along the south wall, Calvin looked them then at the people at his side, all of them in the eye. They were not going to die here. Not again. Taking a hold of a spare stake jaw firm, teeth gritting, he suddenly mounted the wall,and shouted hard and clear, "Charge!" and jumped down, hitting the ground running.

Defenders looked at each other in confusion, was he nuts?

Hobbes then jumped the North wall, roaring loudly and running as well. Still, no one moved, then Miller jumped, then another, then another. Finally, everyone jumped from all over the fort.

"Charge!"

Drawing his claws, Hobbes was in the lead as he jumped and leapt here and there, over bodies, finally tearing into one goon as he tried to rebuild a comrade, then he got the other one as well. Billy darted past him, waving his black banner, shouting with his hoarse voice as he moved, followed close behind were others. Like a wave, the children came out, unafraid towards their adversaries. Stakes immediately began to impale bodies. Others swung them like clubs in wide arcs, taking off heads. Goons were completely stunned, unable to react. Some turned to run, others remained in place. Spouting oaths, kicking, punching, children tore into the dilapidated ring, tearing it completely apart. There was no denying them. Some threw their stakes as spears, others dropped them and fought with their hands. Greys, though having no more ammunition, swung their rifles like clubs. It was personal now. No one told them to stop. Just keep going as long as you see a goon. So they did, kept running, through the contruction site where some of their enemy tried to take shelter, but it was a death trap.

Calvin jumped towards the tree line, chasing a few survivors. To his left and right were a few other comrades, most were trying to keep up, weak from their prolonged battle.

"Keep going! Come on!" he shouted, waving his beanie with one hand, in the other was his stake, trying to encourage them. Looking over further, he could see black specks moving through the field beyond. Those must be humans. Goons were moving towards the horizon. They were winning. Roaring was a constant noise, there was no break in it as the defenders charged, also unbreaking, throwing their ice foe back, killing many. This was new, much different from Peach Hill. Everyone participated, everyone was fanning out, taking no prisoners, but there was no stopping them. They were going out now to find this base, if it existed. Yet, that didn't seem to be their intention, just get out of the fort and fight for once in the open, away from those walls, or perhaps get away.

Going through the trees now, Calvin lost track of his prey. Pausing, to gather his breath, heshouted for others that he could see working to his right and left, and some behind to rally on him. Some did, but the noise drowned out his voice from others further away. Where was Hobbes? Susie? Did she even make it out of the fort? Not sure, she wanted to be with her patients. Miller? Saw him on the wall, but he possibly went in a different direction. Even Moe? Gone.

Those at his side looked at him with question. What do we do now? Go back to the fort? No. Not this time. Go back there, they will just be back with more numbers. No, this time we are the attackers.

"Follow me" proudly saying to his little band, thrusting his stake forward as he began to walk deeper into the woods...