Tooth and Nail
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This is the way the world ends. Not with a bang, not with a whimper, but a slaughter.
As a new plague related to the rabies virus infects millions, America recalls its military forces from around the world to safeguard hospitals and other vital buildings. Many of the victims become rabid and violent but are easily controlled-that is, until so many are infected that they begin to run amok, spreading slaughter and disease. Lieutenant Todd Bowman got his unit through the horrors of combat in Iraq. Now he must lead his men across New York through a storm of violence to secure a research facility that may hold a cure. To succeed in this mission to help save what's left, the men of Charlie Company will face a terrifying battle of survival against the very people they have sworn to protect-people turned into a fearless, endless horde armed solely with tooth and nail.
For the boys of Charlie Company, the zombie apocalypse will give a whole new meaning to the proverb WAR IS HELL.
him to hear. Kemper sighs, sorry that he tried. The platoon moves forward, the civilians following closely. “What the hell happened here?” Sherman wonders. The area in front of the school’s doors is carpeted with bloody brass shell casings, the product of hundreds, possibly even thousands, of rounds being fired. The smell of cordite hangs in the air. “Some kind of war,” says Boomer. “No sign of blue forces, sir,” Sergeant Lewis reports to the LT. The boys shuck their rucksacks in the
feeble voice. “Where are you, Sandy?” “I’m in Dr. Saunders’ office. I’m using his phone.” “Good. Please hold for a moment.” “Is this the security room? I was trying to call Stringer.” “Please be quiet for a moment, Sandy.” Petrova scans the images displayed by the digital projectors onto the large wall screens. One shows an empty hallway scarred by a long, dark smear on the floor, while the other shows an empty Laboratory East. She looks at the computer screen on the desk, which presents a
desks together and lay the bodies on top of them. “Check this out,” says Williams. “Somebody carved into this desk, ‘SCREW MR. SCHERMERHORN.’ That’s all right.” Nobody laughs. Eckhardt drapes the American flag over the three body bags. The carvings on the desks give Mooney the creeps. The memory of the normal world haunts this school in a very real way. It is too easy to close one’s eyes and picture thirty bored teenagers trying to stay awake so they can figure out what their biology teacher
them back. Maddy can, however, hear them making an awful racket. The column rattles along, boots crunching glass and kicking cans and bottles, coughing on waves of stink circulating through the otherwise silent city. But despite the noise, the Mad Dogs do not attack. They appear to be dormant. Mooney hears a scuffle on his left, followed by a hideous thunk sound and a sharp yelp. He turns just in time to see his sergeant pull his shovel out of a woman’s head and shove her corpse to the asphalt.
the street like daytime for a moment, vaporizing the Iraqi instantly. “Like a fly swatter squashing a gnat,” Finnegan adds. “Brave or stupid, take your pick,” Corporal Eckhardt chimes in. Again, the levity does not last. This time, the image of the lone Iraqi pointlessly shooting at a sixty-ton armored monster bearing down on him—its steel-clad treads squealing and its big gun lining up to belch instant death in the form of a 105-mm HE round—does not strike them as quite so darkly comical