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Tankzilla!-Chapter 1.

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  03:59:21  1 June 2012
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Tankzilla
(Novice)
 
On forum: 06/01/2012
 

Message edited by:
Tankzilla
06/02/2012 7:40:28
Messages: 6
Tankzilla!-Chapter 1.

Spring, 1986...

The seven week old chihuahua puppy rested in its cage. The attending surgeon looked at his chart and then telephoned a number. "Comrade Zhukov, your puppy has come through his desexing surgery fine. You may pick Tank up at our animal clinic today."

Rudolf Zhukov replied. "Thank you, Comrade Doctor." He limped to the closet to get his coat. Korea had given him the limp. In 1979, he had been a Red Army advisor has been training North
korean soldiers in usage of the AK74 rifle.

High on stolen drugs, a North Korean General had shot up the Soviet barracks, killing four wounding thirty five, and costing Zhukov his left leg below the kneecap.

He left his small house. Zhukov liked dogs and cats better than he did people. A lifelong bachelor, he now augmented his pension by working for the 'grey market'.

Zhukov refused to touch weapons and drugs. Rather, he smuggled video games and consoles into Mother Russia. He acquired said items from a Chinese contact and resold them to the local populace. By giving games and consoles to the local militia(Soviet Police)he was left alone to do as he pleased.

Zhukov drove his cheap Trabant, a cheap and crudely installed radio blaring the Red Army choir from the car. Two Militia guards stopped him a mile from the animal hospital., One guard openly puked blood. Given the state of Soviet medical care, Zhukov avoided both tobacco products and alcohol.

The healthier guard smiled at him. Zhukov handed Vassily Chernenko a copy of 'Metroid'. He waved him on through. Suddenly... "Civil Defense command has announced an emergency for the Chernobyl area. Please stay inside and monitor
your TV or radio for further updates'." the radio announced.

Zhukov drove onwards. 'No way am I leaving my puppy in a nuke emergency.' he thought. Suddenly, APC blocked the road. facing him. Soldiers armed with AK74 assault rifles dismounted and pointed their muzzles at his vehicle. Zhukov stopped.

An officer ran up to him. "Turn around and go home! Nuclear Emergency!" "My puppy is at the animal clinic!" The Officer wrote Zhukov's name and address down and told him he could get his dog later.
Zhukov drove home. He cried himself to sleep that night.

At the animal clinic, nurses and doctors began evacuating the facilities. Groggy from anesthesia, Tank snored through the ensuing chaos. Because he was so quiet, he was left alone, his cage door ajar.

Tank awoke and looked about him. The tiny puppy drank some water from a bowl and began exploring the clinic. A side door had been left ajar, as a radio in an office blared civil defense bulletins.

The tiny puppy now crawled outside....
  10:03:04  2 June 2012
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belizarius
Strelok Holmes
(Resident)

 

 
On forum: 09/02/2009
Messages: 222
Well this is something new
  10:05:28  3 June 2012
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-=Grunt=-
Cake Muncher
(Resident)

 

 
On forum: 01/08/2009
Messages: 4114
Yup. Quite interesting.
  03:12:27  9 June 2012
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Tankzilla
(Novice)
 
On forum: 06/01/2012
 

Message edited by:
Tankzilla
06/10/2012 20:58:48
Messages: 6
'Tankzilla'-Chapter 2:

Radioactive fallout rained upon the land, poisoning both it and the life forms there. Children were still compelled to go to school. lest the state look bad. Workers were compelled to go to their factories, lest the state look bad. Farms still farmed, lest the state look bad.

Tank slept again, his body absorbing the radiation around him. The puppy was now the size of a doberman pinscher... The militiaman pulled his bicycle over next to the deserted animal hospital. Mikhail's watch commander told him to report early today, because of the nuclear emergency.

Mikhail went behind the building to urinate, his chronically infected bladder and prostate yet another triumph.of dirty Soviet city water. Tomorrow, he was scheduled to see a surgeon about having both removed.

As Mikhail urinated, the foul stench of infection filled the cold
air. Tank moved towards the bicycle, smelling a packed meal.
Tank grabbed the bag and ripped it open, gobbling its fried chicken and boiled eggs..

Mikhail finished his task and returned to his bike. Upon seeing what Tank had done, Mikhail went nuts and lunged for his battered AK-47. Being a militiaman, Mikhail did not rate an AK-74. His issue rifle was older than his father, his father having been born in 1949.

"URRRAAAHHHH!" screamed Mikhail as he flung the battered assault rifle to his shoulder and yanked the trigger. Fully automatic 7.62x39mm slugs whizzed harmlessly above Tank, Mikhail panic-fired his rifle dry. Mikhail frantically tried to reload, Tank faced him.

A glow filled Tank's eyes, a bright pink halo appeared above his head. The air filled with static electricity as Mikhail's hair went frizzy.

Tank then breathed plasma, the stream of pink energy vaporizing Mikhail. Tank left the area. And so began the long nightmare for Mother Russia.

14;30 local time.. Militia Watch Commander Vassily Chernenko looked with concern at the clock, a cheap transistor radio providing constant coverage of ongoing nuclear emergency at the Chernobyl nuclear reactor.

"This is most unlike Private Zhukov." An older sargeant nodded in agreement. In the seven months he known the young private, Zhukov had been the one do things right.
Zhukov did not fornicate, drink, or use illegal drugs. He always showed up early and refused to take bribes. He also refused to abuse anybody, even prisoners.

Zhukov's vices included kittens, New Wave music, ice cream, and watching women's basketball. Sgt. Ivan Rostovich approved of him. The Great Patriotic War veteran firmly believed the Soviet Union had to change, else it would fail. He had seen his grandson's films of the Tokyo Ginza night life. He firmly believed it was not a propaganda trick by the west.

Ivan also liked the gifts his grandson got him, especially the Transformers. To imagine that a robot could change into a helicopter or a tank was simply amazing to him. His command of the English language was such that he read Transformers comic books that his grandson sent. Being in the Soviet Foreign Ministry had its
perks.

"Sgt. Rostovich?" "Da, Comrade Watch Commander?" "Take a car and look for Private Zhukov. Donot write him for punishment, as I believe his failure to report is due to circumstances beyond his control."

Rostovich obeyed. Zhukov was a good kid, He actually cleaned his assault rifle before every shift, not wheneve ronly he was ordered to. Rostovich considered himself fortunate, as he had an AKM folding stock rifle. Rostovich preferred it to the AK47, too. It was light years beyond the 91/30 Mosin Nagant bolt action he carried into battle. The only reason Rostovich survived was the war was that he'd ditched his bolt action for a PPSH-41 submachinegun. at Bryansk in 1941.

Amidst the battle, He saw an NKVD offiicer drunk and looting amidst the battle. The stupid oaf was guzzling codeine pills with vodka. When a German shell exploded nearby, he shot the Commissar and took both his Tokarev 1940 pistol and his PPSH-41 submachinegun. He'd dumped his bolt action rifle in a fountain and rejoined his unit.

Those two weapons and a healthy dose of reality kept him alive through the war to both Berlin and the plains of Manchuria. He'd killed alot oF Japanese, German, and Italian. troops. He had both a katana sword and a Mauser pistol at his modest home as trophies.

The Trabant buzzed towards its destination, and it was a meeting with horror...
  21:29:30  10 June 2012
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Tankzilla
(Novice)
 
On forum: 06/01/2012
 

Message edited by:
Tankzilla
06/10/2012 23:32:05
Messages: 6
'Tankzilla'-Chapter 3:

Tank by now had moved away from the anima l, the ongoing mutation of his body now him the size of an adult black bear. But he was still a domestic dog, and domestic dogs are ill-equipped to survive in the wild.

Tank smelled a source of food nearby and went hunt for it. A farm beckoned... Katherine milked the cows by hand. The Communist Party had seen to that. The money meant for milking machinery was looted instead by bureaucrats. And criticism of the Communist Party meant admission to a Soviet psychiatric hospital, in which anti-psychotic drugs were force fed you until you were just an obedient robot of the state.

Katherine obediently trudged through her chores. Ekaterina, her grandmother bcked cherry pies in the house. Being a member of the hunter's collective, Ekaterina was allowed to keep an SKS carbine in her house. In her younger days, Ekaterina had been in the Red Army during the Cuban Missile Crisis.

Ekaterina felt sad for her grand daughter, the poor kid deserved better than this farm. Her immediate family had been wiped out in 1984 by the Ivanov tornado outbreak. She was taken to a hospital afterwards by civil defense troops. She had
lost her right eye, left arm, and right leg respectively.

But her mind suffered the worst toll. Whenever it got windy or thundery, Catherine
took panic attacks. At least the medications and therapy a local psychiatrist had driven the nightmares from her mind. "She'll never fully recover." the doctor told her. "But with medication, she can have a life."

It had been Catherine's birthday, she was 14 years old. Her mother had gotten her a new kitten and she was playing with it out in her back yard, Her father and twin brothers had gone to town to get party supplies. Catherine had made Patches a toy.

The toy consisted of a shoe lace with feathers and a tiny bell. Patches was delighted with his toy. Suddenly, he lost interest and began crying. Thunder rumbled in the distance. She scooped the tiny kitten up and hugged him. "Don't cry, it's only thunder." She began walking towards her house.

The wind picked up. There was an open fruit cellar nearby and Patches rocketed from Katherine,s arms and into the cellar. 'Ive never seen a cat do that before'.Nearby dogs howled as the thunder steadily rolled, gradually rising in volume. "That is not right." Catherine reached her back door.

Sirens now wailed in the distance from the nearby town. "That is odd." She turned on her radio. "A tornado warning for this federal district is in effect. This a dangerous storm capable of destroying well-built structures. Get underground now,"

Catherine remember her civil defense training in the Young Pioneers, the Soviet youth league. She grabbed her first aid kit, a flashlight, a whistle, and a portable radio. She now raced towards the cellar.

Like a rocket-powered bulldozer, the giant tornado raced towards her neighborhood. In the distance a white Trabant stayed barely ahead of the deadly cloud. A pennant from the local soccer collective fluttered from its antenna. With shock, Catherine realized it was her family's car.

Suddenly, it was overtaken by the twister and it became airborne, Catherine screamed in horror at the sight, but the wind drowned her out. Trees began to uproot, trash cans were already flying around her, Houses now shook, too.


Catherine began to run towards the fruit cellar, a neighbor's dog house struck her at the cellar's mouth and all became blackness... When Catherine awoke, she was aboard an airborne medical evacuation helicopter, morphine having numbed her senses.

The medic gently held her hand as she rode this Valkyrie of life. to a Moscow trauma center. That evening, Grandma Ekaterina was there, having caught a military flight with special permission.. Three months later, she was at farm near Chernobyl

The local farm youth did not befriend her, they thought her a government spy. Stalinist purges were still a living memory amidst the older hands. Even the local school system was loathe to embrace her.

Catherine's sole friends were the militia, especially Sgt. Rostovich, he got her those Transformers comic books she liked. Her fascination with them lead to her becoming a talented arshe tist. Catherine also liked cats and dogs and often helped at he local animal rescue service.

Ekaterina now went to check on the local weather report, she left her pies cooling on an open window sill. Tank detected them and investigated. He began eating them as Ekaterina returned to the kitchen, her eyes widening in surprise upon seeing the animal.

It was a dog, but it was bigger than any dog she'd seen before, even the wolves she hunted. Curiously, its face looked to be that of a Russian toy terrier, Ekaterina having never seen a chihuahua before.

'What is it?' as Tank left and walked towards the road, just as the militia car approached. She got her SKS and went to fetch Catherine, in case danger was afoot.
The militia car stopped while Tank crossed the road facing it. One militia man openly emptied a vodka flask by pouring it upon the ground. Another popped a tranquilizer. Sgt. Rostovich
  04:07:43  15 June 2012
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Tankzilla
(Novice)
 
On forum: 06/01/2012
Messages: 6

---QUOTATION---
'Tankzilla'-Chapter 3:

Tank by now had moved away from the anima l, the ongoing mutation of his body now him the size of an adult black bear. But he was still a domestic dog, and domestic dogs are ill-equipped to survive in the wild.

Tank smelled a source of food nearby and went hunt for it. A farm beckoned... Katherine milked the cows by hand. The Communist Party had seen to that. The money meant for milking machinery was looted instead by bureaucrats. And criticism of the Communist Party meant admission to a Soviet psychiatric hospital, in which anti-psychotic drugs were force fed you until you were just an obedient robot of the state.

Katherine obediently trudged through her chores. Ekaterina, her grandmother baked cherry pies in the house. Being a member of the hunter's collective, Ekaterina was allowed to keep an SKS carbine in her house. In her younger days, Ekaterina had been in the Red Army during the Cuban Missile Crisis.

Ekaterina felt sad for her grand daughter, the poor kid deserved better than this farm. Her immediate family had been wiped out in 1984 by the Ivanov tornado outbreak. She was taken to a hospital afterwards by civil defense troops. She had
lost her right eye, left arm, and right leg respectively.

But her mind suffered the worst toll. Whenever it got windy or thundery, Catherine
took panic attacks. At least the medications and therapy a local psychiatrist had driven the nightmares from her mind. "She'll never fully recover." the doctor told her. "But with medication, she can have a life."

It had been Catherine's birthday, she was 14 years old. Her mother had gotten her a new kitten and she was playing with it out in her back yard, Her father and twin brothers had gone to town to get party supplies. Catherine had made Patches a toy.

The toy consisted of a shoe lace with feathers and a tiny bell. Patches was delighted with his toy. Suddenly, he lost interest and began crying. Thunder rumbled in the distance. She scooped the tiny kitten up and hugged him. "Don't cry, it's only thunder." She began walking towards her house.

The wind picked up. There was an open fruit cellar nearby and Patches rocketed from Katherine,s arms and into the cellar. 'Ive never seen a cat do that before'.Near by dogs howled as the thunder steadily rolled, gradually rising in volume. "That is not right." Catherine reached her back door.

Sirens now wailed in the distance from the nearby town. "That is odd." She turned on her radio. "A tornado warning for this federal district is in effect. This a dangerous storm capable of destroying well-built structures. Get underground now,"

Catherine remember her civil defense training in the Young Pioneers, the Soviet youth league. She grabbed her first aid kit, a flashlight, a whistle, and a portable radio. She now raced towards the cellar.

Like a rocket-powered bulldozer, the giant tornado raced towards her neighborhood. In the distance a white Trabant stayed barely ahead of the deadly cloud. A pennant from the local soccer collective fluttered from its antenna. With shock, Catherine realized it was her family's car.

Suddenly, it was overtaken by the twister and it became airborne, Catherine screamed in horror at the sight, but the wind drowned her out. Trees began to uproot, trash cans were already flying around her, Houses now shook, too.


Catherine began to run towards the fruit cellar, a neighbor's dog house struck her at the cellar's mouth and all became blackness... When Catherine awoke, she was aboard an airborne medical evacuation helicopter, morphine having numbed her senses.

The medic gently held her hand as she rode this Valkyrie of life. to a Moscow trauma center. That evening, Grandma Ekaterina was there, having caught a military flight with special permission.. Three months later, she was at farm near Chernobyl

The local farm youth did not befriend her, they thought her a government spy. Stalinist purges were still a living memory amidst the older hands. Even the local school system was loathe to embrace her.

Catherine's sole friends were the militia, especially Sgt. Rostovich, he got her those Transformers comic books she liked. Her fascination with them lead to her becoming a talented arshe tist. Catherine also liked cats and dogs and often helped at he local animal rescue service.

Ekaterina now went to check on the local weather report, she left her pies cooling on an open window sill. Tank detected them and investigated. He began eating them as Ekaterina returned to the kitchen, her eyes widening in surprise upon seeing the animal.

It was a dog, but it was bigger than any dog she'd seen before, even the wolves she hunted. Curiously, its face looked to be that of a Russian toy terrier, Ekaterina having never seen a chihuahua before.

'What is it?' as Tank left and walked towards the road, just as the militia car approached. She got her SKS and went to fetch Catherine, in case danger was afoot.
The militia car stopped while Tank crossed the road facing it. One militia man openly emptied a vodka flask by pouring it upon the ground. Another popped a tranquilizer. Sgt. Rostovich pulled a Kodak and began taking pictures. Tank slowly faded into the distance.

The local druggist developed the films, and Sgt. Rostovich. showed them to Commander Chernenko. "This animal is the size of an adult bull cow. I shall alert the Hunter's Collective and we shall jointly hunt this beast together."

AK47s, AKMs, Moisin-Nagants, SKS, and Medveds were readied .Both the militia men and hunters met in front of Ekaterina's farm.

Catherine stayed inside the house, while Ekaterina went with the hunters and militiamen. They began to walk across the field following Tank's foot prints.


At dusk, the hunting party set up a base. "We'll resume hunting at first light." Commander Chernenko said. They bedded down for the night. Tank moved onwards compelled by an insatiable hunger.
  04:07:48  15 June 2012
profilee-mailreply Message URLTo the Top
Tankzilla
(Novice)
 
On forum: 06/01/2012
Messages: 6

---QUOTATION---
'Tankzilla'-Chapter 3:

Tank by now had moved away from the anima l, the ongoing mutation of his body now him the size of an adult black bear. But he was still a domestic dog, and domestic dogs are ill-equipped to survive in the wild.

Tank smelled a source of food nearby and went hunt for it. A farm beckoned... Katherine milked the cows by hand. The Communist Party had seen to that. The money meant for milking machinery was looted instead by bureaucrats. And criticism of the Communist Party meant admission to a Soviet psychiatric hospital, in which anti-psychotic drugs were force fed you until you were just an obedient robot of the state.

Katherine obediently trudged through her chores. Ekaterina, her grandmother baked cherry pies in the house. Being a member of the hunter's collective, Ekaterina was allowed to keep an SKS carbine in her house. In her younger days, Ekaterina had been in the Red Army during the Cuban Missile Crisis.

Ekaterina felt sad for her grand daughter, the poor kid deserved better than this farm. Her immediate family had been wiped out in 1984 by the Ivanov tornado outbreak. She was taken to a hospital afterwards by civil defense troops. She had
lost her right eye, left arm, and right leg respectively.

But her mind suffered the worst toll. Whenever it got windy or thundery, Catherine
took panic attacks. At least the medications and therapy a local psychiatrist had driven the nightmares from her mind. "She'll never fully recover." the doctor told her. "But with medication, she can have a life."

It had been Catherine's birthday, she was 14 years old. Her mother had gotten her a new kitten and she was playing with it out in her back yard, Her father and twin brothers had gone to town to get party supplies. Catherine had made Patches a toy.

The toy consisted of a shoe lace with feathers and a tiny bell. Patches was delighted with his toy. Suddenly, he lost interest and began crying. Thunder rumbled in the distance. She scooped the tiny kitten up and hugged him. "Don't cry, it's only thunder." She began walking towards her house.

The wind picked up. There was an open fruit cellar nearby and Patches rocketed from Katherine,s arms and into the cellar. 'Ive never seen a cat do that before'.Near by dogs howled as the thunder steadily rolled, gradually rising in volume. "That is not right." Catherine reached her back door.

Sirens now wailed in the distance from the nearby town. "That is odd." She turned on her radio. "A tornado warning for this federal district is in effect. This a dangerous storm capable of destroying well-built structures. Get underground now,"

Catherine remember her civil defense training in the Young Pioneers, the Soviet youth league. She grabbed her first aid kit, a flashlight, a whistle, and a portable radio. She now raced towards the cellar.

Like a rocket-powered bulldozer, the giant tornado raced towards her neighborhood. In the distance a white Trabant stayed barely ahead of the deadly cloud. A pennant from the local soccer collective fluttered from its antenna. With shock, Catherine realized it was her family's car.

Suddenly, it was overtaken by the twister and it became airborne, Catherine screamed in horror at the sight, but the wind drowned her out. Trees began to uproot, trash cans were already flying around her, Houses now shook, too.


Catherine began to run towards the fruit cellar, a neighbor's dog house struck her at the cellar's mouth and all became blackness... When Catherine awoke, she was aboard an airborne medical evacuation helicopter, morphine having numbed her senses.

The medic gently held her hand as she rode this Valkyrie of life. to a Moscow trauma center. That evening, Grandma Ekaterina was there, having caught a military flight with special permission.. Three months later, she was at farm near Chernobyl

The local farm youth did not befriend her, they thought her a government spy. Stalinist purges were still a living memory amidst the older hands. Even the local school system was loathe to embrace her.

Catherine's sole friends were the militia, especially Sgt. Rostovich, he got her those Transformers comic books she liked. Her fascination with them lead to her becoming a talented arshe tist. Catherine also liked cats and dogs and often helped at he local animal rescue service.

Ekaterina now went to check on the local weather report, she left her pies cooling on an open window sill. Tank detected them and investigated. He began eating them as Ekaterina returned to the kitchen, her eyes widening in surprise upon seeing the animal.

It was a dog, but it was bigger than any dog she'd seen before, even the wolves she hunted. Curiously, its face looked to be that of a Russian toy terrier, Ekaterina having never seen a chihuahua before.

'What is it?' as Tank left and walked towards the road, just as the militia car approached. She got her SKS and went to fetch Catherine, in case danger was afoot.
The militia car stopped while Tank crossed the road facing it. One militia man openly emptied a vodka flask by pouring it upon the ground. Another popped a tranquilizer. Sgt. Rostovich pulled a Kodak and began taking pictures. Tank slowly faded into the distance.

The local druggist developed the films, and Sgt. Rostovich. showed them to Commander Chernenko. "This animal is the size of an adult bull cow. I shall alert the Hunter's Collective and we shall jointly hunt this beast together."

AK47s, AKMs, Moisin-Nagants, SKS, and Medveds were readied .Both the militia men and hunters met in front of Ekaterina's farm.

Catherine stayed inside the house, while Ekaterina went with the hunters and militiamen. They began to walk across the field following Tank's foot prints.


At dusk, the hunting party set up a base. "We'll resume hunting at first light." Commander Chernenko said. They bedded down for the night. Tank moved onwards compelled by an insatiable hunger.
  04:07:49  15 June 2012
profilee-mailreply Message URLTo the Top
Tankzilla
(Novice)
 
On forum: 06/01/2012
Messages: 6

---QUOTATION---
'Tankzilla'-Chapter 3:

Tank by now had moved away from the anima l, the ongoing mutation of his body now him the size of an adult black bear. But he was still a domestic dog, and domestic dogs are ill-equipped to survive in the wild.

Tank smelled a source of food nearby and went hunt for it. A farm beckoned... Katherine milked the cows by hand. The Communist Party had seen to that. The money meant for milking machinery was looted instead by bureaucrats. And criticism of the Communist Party meant admission to a Soviet psychiatric hospital, in which anti-psychotic drugs were force fed you until you were just an obedient robot of the state.

Katherine obediently trudged through her chores. Ekaterina, her grandmother baked cherry pies in the house. Being a member of the hunter's collective, Ekaterina was allowed to keep an SKS carbine in her house. In her younger days, Ekaterina had been in the Red Army during the Cuban Missile Crisis.

Ekaterina felt sad for her grand daughter, the poor kid deserved better than this farm. Her immediate family had been wiped out in 1984 by the Ivanov tornado outbreak. She was taken to a hospital afterwards by civil defense troops. She had
lost her right eye, left arm, and right leg respectively.

But her mind suffered the worst toll. Whenever it got windy or thundery, Catherine
took panic attacks. At least the medications and therapy a local psychiatrist had driven the nightmares from her mind. "She'll never fully recover." the doctor told her. "But with medication, she can have a life."

It had been Catherine's birthday, she was 14 years old. Her mother had gotten her a new kitten and she was playing with it out in her back yard, Her father and twin brothers had gone to town to get party supplies. Catherine had made Patches a toy.

The toy consisted of a shoe lace with feathers and a tiny bell. Patches was delighted with his toy. Suddenly, he lost interest and began crying. Thunder rumbled in the distance. She scooped the tiny kitten up and hugged him. "Don't cry, it's only thunder." She began walking towards her house.

The wind picked up. There was an open fruit cellar nearby and Patches rocketed from Katherine,s arms and into the cellar. 'Ive never seen a cat do that before'.Near by dogs howled as the thunder steadily rolled, gradually rising in volume. "That is not right." Catherine reached her back door.

Sirens now wailed in the distance from the nearby town. "That is odd." She turned on her radio. "A tornado warning for this federal district is in effect. This a dangerous storm capable of destroying well-built structures. Get underground now,"

Catherine remember her civil defense training in the Young Pioneers, the Soviet youth league. She grabbed her first aid kit, a flashlight, a whistle, and a portable radio. She now raced towards the cellar.

Like a rocket-powered bulldozer, the giant tornado raced towards her neighborhood. In the distance a white Trabant stayed barely ahead of the deadly cloud. A pennant from the local soccer collective fluttered from its antenna. With shock, Catherine realized it was her family's car.

Suddenly, it was overtaken by the twister and it became airborne, Catherine screamed in horror at the sight, but the wind drowned her out. Trees began to uproot, trash cans were already flying around her, Houses now shook, too.


Catherine began to run towards the fruit cellar, a neighbor's dog house struck her at the cellar's mouth and all became blackness... When Catherine awoke, she was aboard an airborne medical evacuation helicopter, morphine having numbed her senses.

The medic gently held her hand as she rode this Valkyrie of life. to a Moscow trauma center. That evening, Grandma Ekaterina was there, having caught a military flight with special permission.. Three months later, she was at farm near Chernobyl

The local farm youth did not befriend her, they thought her a government spy. Stalinist purges were still a living memory amidst the older hands. Even the local school system was loathe to embrace her.

Catherine's sole friends were the militia, especially Sgt. Rostovich, he got her those Transformers comic books she liked. Her fascination with them lead to her becoming a talented arshe tist. Catherine also liked cats and dogs and often helped at he local animal rescue service.

Ekaterina now went to check on the local weather report, she left her pies cooling on an open window sill. Tank detected them and investigated. He began eating them as Ekaterina returned to the kitchen, her eyes widening in surprise upon seeing the animal.

It was a dog, but it was bigger than any dog she'd seen before, even the wolves she hunted. Curiously, its face looked to be that of a Russian toy terrier, Ekaterina having never seen a chihuahua before.

'What is it?' as Tank left and walked towards the road, just as the militia car approached. She got her SKS and went to fetch Catherine, in case danger was afoot.
The militia car stopped while Tank crossed the road facing it. One militia man openly emptied a vodka flask by pouring it upon the ground. Another popped a tranquilizer. Sgt. Rostovich pulled a Kodak and began taking pictures. Tank slowly faded into the distance.

The local druggist developed the films, and Sgt. Rostovich. showed them to Commander Chernenko. "This animal is the size of an adult bull cow. I shall alert the Hunter's Collective and we shall jointly hunt this beast together."

AK47s, AKMs, Moisin-Nagants, SKS, and Medveds were readied .Both the militia men and hunters met in front of Ekaterina's farm.

Catherine stayed inside the house, while Ekaterina went with the hunters and militiamen. They began to walk across the field following Tank's foot prints.


At dusk, the hunting party set up a base. "We'll resume hunting at first light." Commander Chernenko said. They bedded down for the night. Tank moved onwards compelled by an insatiable hunger.
 
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