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Soviet Kitsch


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They still surged, as she scooped the rattling box and fired.  The explosion battering away people as she dove out of the window, old enough that it broke away without much effort on her part.  Even if she was a slight thing.

 

Her landing was a bit awkward, well for her.  When she gave a quick look around she'd see more people moving towards the building and her.  While that damnable box was making her arm quiver, and her teeth chatter.  She'd see one of the people in the group wearing motocycle helmet and he started towards her in a run, his hands holding a bit sledgehammer, his intent clear.

 

Of course the others turned towards her, but it was less individualized determination.  Still it was like she was in some sort of zombie movie.

 

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The Red Rat

 

"Professor! Professor! I could do with a hand! or a paw!" she implored via the earpiece. What was keeping him? The box, it must be the box

 

She did not fancy, particularly, getting her head pulped by a hammer, although there was at least a sliver of consolation in knowing SLAVE would be pulped alongside her. 

 

Activate Taser Round

 

There was a slight fizz as the round charged up in the chamber of her gun. 

 

"It's hammer time" she said, with a quick aim at the man, followed by a squeeze of her trigger. 

 

I could do with a motorcycle...

 

She gave a quick look around to see if there was any vehicle to appropriate. Nothing to see...for now. Something powerful and zippy would be just the ticket. So, instead, she started to run the gauntlet back to the Professor...

 

...through grasping hands and slack jaws....

Edited by Supercape
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It hit the man in center mass.  She didn't need to be fancy to drop the man with the electrified rou - They fall before Communist might and ingenuity! -nd, just needed to hit him.  He staggered, and jerked as his muscles disobeyed him, before he flopped face first to the ground, atop of the hammer.

 

There was an exterior maintenance area though, locked and fenced, but any easy vault for a desperate woman who was trying to escape, or find additional avenues.  The plastic slats through the chainlink obscured a lot, though showed just enough for her to identify what was most likely a golf cart.  And a riding mower.

 

Her radio connect kicked in for a moment, "... AMBIENT... INTERFERENCE... BEAR... FAST..."  She almost swore she could hear the brain-in-a-jar former rogue/mad Soviet Scientist panting?  Or was that her?

 

 

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The Red Rat

 

Bear Fast...yes! That's good! A Fast Bear!

 

The Golf Cart looked attractive. The Riding Mower looked more attractive. She had visions of driving it along, mowing down the zombie hordes. Limbs flying left, limb's flying run, blood flying everywhere. 

 

But no, the proles might be under some hypnotic influence. But they were not zombies. Golf Cart it was. 

 

She paused a breath, to take a deep one, slotting her gun back into a holster. Then she took a run and vaulted over the fence, one arm still holding the buzzing box like a baby. Although she was sorely tempted to cave this babies head in with a golf club. 

 

Landing the other side she jumped into the Golf Cart and started looking for keys. 

 

Keys...keys...come on, come on...do I have to hot wire this thing?

 

With superior soviet X-Ray Vision, she spied the key hiding in the glove compartment, alongside some suspicious magazines of disreputable content. 

 

"Thank Lenin for that!" she said, full of sardonic sarcasm, as she ignited the electric engine with a whhrrrr....

 

"See you suckers!" she yelled at the approaching hoard as she put her foot to the flaw and sped away at a top speed of 10mph....

Edited by Supercape
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Fortunately there was no golf clubs[REDACTED] Implements of the decadent bourgeoisie game, rather there were some tools, like shovels, a polaski, those sort of things, in the makeshift poles shed that it sat it inside of, in the little twenty by twenty enclosure.

 

She had some distance on them though, to get here.  So it was an easy matter of hitting the gas, and it going faster than she expected.  As it wasn't an electric golf cart.  This sucker was gas, so it was more like twice the expected speed.

Now, while there was interference while she swept through things, she noticed, despite the distortion, one home was a lot more resistant to her efforts.  Like there was intentional shielding of some sort.

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The Red Rat

 

The rat picked up a shovel. She could use it to shovel things. Or to whack a brain controlled zombie goon on the head.

 

Well, it would conserve ammunition. She understood that conserving ammunition was important in a zombie apocalypse. At least, that's what the TV shows implied.

 

But now, this was interesting. A shielded house....

 

It was worth investigating. She turned the Wheel and sped up to the front door. Probably best not to ram it. She might need her ride. No, instead she got out and tried the front door by hand...

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They did not have self-preservation.  As they swarmed at her, regardless of what she was doing.  Admittedly it was making it harder to move, without wholesale running over people who might be innocent.  At least of violence, probably.

 

This was Bedlam, after all, and there was a spark of Madness and crime riddledness, no matter the location.

 

Still once she managed to break loose, she could cover the  distance towards the house, which was away from the small field, and the club house, and out towards the trailers, and the single wide which pretty much was a dead spot for her senses.  She could see it, but it was a smear of matte against the nominal spread of her enhanced senses.  Like a beacon.  The box was the same way, so it stood to reason.

And then someone broke out into a run, carrying one of the polaskis from the pole shed, his haggard, blotchy face set into a line of grim determination.

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The Red Rat

 

Whist the thought of duelling one of the "innocents" BUT NO SUPPORTER OF THE EVIL FREE MARKET IS TRULY INNOCENT! with a polaski was most tempting, shooting him was more practical. 

 

More practical...yes....

 

Surely more practical...

 

She holstered her superior soviet pistol, and turned to face the man. Hopefully his speed would be in his feet rather than his hands. This was clearly a good idea, as it would save a bullet. This was the Zombie apocalypse, after all. Conserving ammunition, especially superior soviet ammunition, was very important. 

 

She got ready to clonk the guy on the head, hefting her polaski...

 

Thwack!

 

Right on the head. Had it been a real zombie, she imagined, it would have been sharp side, nicely cleaving the skull as per all the usual zombie films. Instead, it was a satisfying clunk on the head, knocking the man clean out!

 

Turning, she made all due haste towards the house...

Edited by Supercape
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  • 2 weeks later...

The clang was satisfying, and it sent the man twisting with the blow, before he dropped to his knees and flopped to the  ground.

 

Of course this distraction, even momentary as it was, meant that the swarm was getting closer and closer to her.

 

Then she saw the man start to push himself up, getting to his knees, and staggering a bit as he turned to her, the side of his face where she had hit him with a shovel already puffy, and a bit discolored.  He hefted up the axe, and moved back towards her.

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The Red Rat

 

"Oh come on! Stay down!"

 

The Rat shook the axe ready to take another swipe. Whatever malign force had overwhelmed the men and women here, it had to be given credit. Nobody should get up from a resounding clang like that. 

 

The Zombie Zeitgeist hit her for a moment, and she entertained all the usual tropes; bullets in skulls, knives in eye sockets, magnificent swings of axes cleaving through necks. But now, this man was alive, not a zombie. And would no doubt be unappreciative of decapitation. 

 

Instead, she turned heel and ran full pelt to the house. It would probably not be open....

 

Yes! It's locked! she sighed internally, rattling the handle impotently. 

 

But at least she had an axe!

 

She leaned back, took her balance, and with a lungeforward, swung with all her considerable might. All those hours in the gym, pumping iron, and her body responding so quickly, well, it gave her quite the physique. And quite the swing...

Edited by Supercape
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  • 3 weeks later...

Wood splintered, and the door cracked open, busting around the doorknob, as the force from the blow sent it open.

 

Into a room strewn with various bits of electronics, and other such things.  She'd see so many things, it was hard to pinpoint one down.  Bit of computers and such to be sure, but also exotic other electronics as well, circuit boards and other things that she was not familiar with.

 

However, there was something else in there that she was familiar with, a network switch.  Something Slave could ha- Inferior technology! -ck, and trace.  Now... about the door and hordes...

 

There was no real furniture, just racks or electronics, and computer-like stuff.  And it seems that the windows were already boarded up.  

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The Red Rat

 

What kind of silicon sewage is this?

 

It felt like it would take a day to sift through all the junk. Or faux-junk. But she didn't have a day. She probably didn't have a minute. The mind - controlled plebs were at the gate, so to speak. 

 

Well then, speed was of the essence. And she had an axe if needed. Blunt end, preferably. 

 

SLAVE, get me into that network switch! she told her computer, as her cybernetic eyes pinged up HUD displays of the system and possible intrusion roads. 

 

And lets do this fast. Before we get our entwined brains eaten!

 

 

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  • 1 month later...

Superior Soviet technological advancement and ingenuity!  Said the remnant of a tape drive circa late-Stage Khrushchev era scientific endeavors. The amount of confidence that might inspire had she the time to think about it would probably be less than ideal.  

 

Processing... Processing.  Recursion detected. [REDACTED]  Force node query...[REDACTED] Processing... processing... [REDACTED]

Processing...  Waiting for response...

[REDACTED]

It was a swirl of antiquated terminology that was only sometimes familiar with before there was any indication of positive traction.

 

Response received.

 

Ha!  Superior prevails. Est. location 1129.47 meters. North/Northwest.

 

That would place it away from the trailer park, and towards a stand of woods.

 

 

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The Red Rat

 

That's not a very precise estimate! I was expecting millimeters!

 

Her eyes HUD quickly flashed up the digital overlay map. It would be a long run - hopefully the mind controlled mob would not outrun her. Oh for a skateboard or something!. Mind you, in a woods that would be about as useful as a chocolate teapot. 

 

Fortunately the Rat was in a good, nay, excellent shape. The Darwin-X virus made her body respond most splendidly to her vigorous exercise regime. A little dash would be no problem. 

 

"Well then, time to outrun some zombies!" she proclaimed, determined. 

 

She threw away the axe. No need for excess weight here. Instead, she scanned the walls with X-ray vision, looking for a weak spot without a mob there. With a flick of her wrist, she pulled up her gun and set a high-ex round. 

 

Here goes nothing...

 

She pulled the trigger and shielded her face, ready to run through the rubble and into the woods. 

 

 

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Fortunately the mob was from the interior of the trailer park.  And finding one facing outward, and with a weakness was easy.

 

The wall gave way, but then late '80s model trailer homes could not take an explosive round with any fortitude.  It would, however, leave her ears ringing at the violent compression, then decompression in a matter of a split second.  It knocked her back against a rack of computer parts and circuit boards, rattling things off of it and onto her.

But she could stand, and she could run.  And the rattling about of this made SLAVE quiet for a moment.  At least.

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The Red Rat

 

The Rat slid her gun back into her holster without a thought. Literally without a thought, for her head was still ringing. Maybe SLAVE was stunned too...that would be a little bonus. Her hand moved from unconscious muscle memory. 

 

Then the ringing subsided, and the fog lifted. A gaping hole beckoned, which would be a fine double entendre under normal circumstances, but right now it indicated her escape. 

 

And escape was just what she did, running through the debris and hole, clearing her head of the final echoes of concussive force. And straight towards the mysterious coordinates...

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"[bzzzz] JUST... [zzzzzp] BREAK ... DAMNABLE..."  Came the shaky connection from the Doctor.  Then the connection went silent.

 

Health heuristic scan.  Checking integrity.  The HUD adjusted, flickering as there was a bit of a reboot.  This made the rest of her vision flicker, though fortunately she already had her destination in sight.  At least figuratively.  So she could push forward, as the mob bottlenecked with their single mindedness.

 

Get her.  Was what they knew.

 

Correction established, path containing course to [redacted].  It was something she had seen before, when encountering material that was sensitive, that she technically did not have clearance for, or was supposed to know about.  The black bar that floated before the eyes of someone in a poor quality black and white photo copy of a picture of someone that ought not be associated with the time/place the picture was from.  The black masking that defined, and hemmed in her life.

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The Red Rat

 

Horsepoop! cursed the Rat as SLAVE sparked inside her head. She honestly had no way of knowing what was going on. The machevellian machinations of the computer? The shockwave of the explosion? The strange interference that seemed to permeate the entire area? Who knew?

 

But of course she was a spy. So paranoid explanations were true, in her eyes. And in this case literally in her eyes. SLAVE was keeping her from something. And it must surely be something important. 

 

SLAVE must be, somehow, connected to the whole thing. Something historical.

 

But there was nothing for it. She could hardly hang around with the plebs crushing in. And there was only one destination to find the answers. So it was towards that destination she ran. 

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I am tied to your inferior, non-collectivist flesh bits, Comrade von Neumann.  SLAVE sounded annoyed, if that was possible.  It was hard to tell, even with the years she spent with it in her head, her thoughts, all of it.  Of course, the implications were best no explored.  Of course she knew what that was like, the black marks of classified information that were kept from her.

 

While a dead run for a klick was a bit much the horde was having a hard time coalescing after her.  So it was a straight run, with her breathing, and weighty silence from SLAVE, even as the HUD flickered in her vision, while the rest remained there.  Fortunately.  She was out of the trailer park, and through and overgrown field, and then stand of trees.  No path.  It all looked neglected for years.  Long enough, perhaps, to have been left out in the cold.

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The Red Rat

 

Picking through overgrowth and trees slowed her down, but she was agile enough. And she recalled the cross country training as part of her training in Siberian woods. At least it was not so blasted cold. 

 

She remembered how the Darwin-X virus had a habit of creating a layer of ghastly thick fur on her body in cold climates. 

 

Whatever was here was probably under a ton of fauna. It would take days to search properly, and days was something she did not have, not with the squall of plebs behind her. 

 

But fortunately her eyes were not flesh or bone nor anything else! And so she flicked through the various modes, overlaying images in infrared and ultravoilet, throwing out penetrating X-Rays...for surely something was here!

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On a scale from 1 to Siberia, this was solidly like a chill Crimean morning.  And she was running.  So no fur.

 

Yet.

 

She got a surge of static, as the Doctor tried to get through to her.  But as she approached the stand of trees, the distance ticking down to 0, and she was there.  In the middle of things, and looking.  The air dead enough that the voices of the swam wasn't getting here.  But then that was probably only a temporary reprieve.

 

Fortunately, she could assume that whatever it was was deeper. in the trees, so she didn't have to stop.  Until she came across a ditch, that led up to a culvert.  Which would likely not be a good spot for something like the setup she had see.  What with the dampness, but once she crested the other side of the ditch. She'd see, through the trees, a building there, a shack.  Which likely where it was.

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The Red Rat

 

Haha! Found you!

 

But what was a shack doing out here and why the devil was it the apparent epicentre of this sonic insanity? Well, there was only one way to find out. Possibly several ways, but the principle was true. She needed to enter. Or possibly blow it up. 

 

Yes, blow it up. That was an attractive option. But on the other hand, there might be innocent people inside. True, they might be mind controlled by some sonic science, but they were innocent all the same. 

 

She did wish the doctor could get through, but there was no time for idle wishes. The swarm could not be far behind. 

 

A little more slowly now, trying to avoid undue noise, she pulled out her guns and crept towards the shack with every intention of sneaking in...

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  • 2 weeks later...

It looked old and disused.  The windows boarded up, though the door still appeared solid.

But this was the only building, it had to be it.  Even if she had some GLOSNASS or GPS data there was minimal stuff that could be out here.  But with the info from earlier, her best guesses and the fact that there was shielding on the building, well then where else could it be, right?

Even as the droning hum at the back of her senses was warbling strangely, as if something was knocking it outside of it's cycling.
 

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The Red Rat

 

By Stalin's beard, I have no time to dally! the proles were at the gates. Or, in this case, the mind controlled plebs were swarming like a zombie B movie right after her. 

 

High - Ex Round

 

She commanded the pistol in her hand. Another day, she would have sidled up and picked the lock. But not this day. She barely aimed; a press of the trigger and a high explosive grenade shot out of the pistol to land by the foot of the door. She gauged it the best she could - to blow the hinges off the door but without (She hoped) collapsing the whole building. 

 

And she set off to dash through the whatever remains of the door was left, and see what was inside...

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  • 2 weeks later...

This time there was no ringing in her ears, as the door was knocked open.  It was reinforced, but that was nothing compared to one of her explosive rounds.  After moving towards it and pushing in, which would finish the job on the door and sent it falling in, with a grunt as it hit someone, and laid across them.


Smoke and dust filled the air, obscuring the details, but there was only one person there, her senses and the HUD telling her that.  Along with computer equipment that not all was really so easily identified, but it was close enough.  And the body she was sort of standing on, or was looming over, was likely a man.

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