Pieces of zoms were flung in every direction. Blood splashed against the white plane.

Alexi spun around, shielding his eyes.

Then the air was fractured by gunfire and the combat howl of a huge dog.

Chapter 86

86

BENNY HAD NO CHOICE.

He and Nix were too close to each other to swing their swords—they were breaking one of Tom’s cardinal rules about battlefield combat.

But she seemed frozen in place.

“I’m sorry!” Benny said, and shoved her backward as he jumped forward to meet the creature.

He heard Nix’s scream as she hit the edge of the slope—and fell.

Benny had no time to process that.

The creature was on him, and Benny lunged in low and to the left, swinging the sword in as powerful a lateral cut as he could manage. The shock of impact jolted him, but the katana was sharper than a razor. It sliced through dead flesh and brittle bone.

The creature fell past him and Benny turned, controlling the erratic postimpact swing of his blade. As he pivoted, he saw the zom scramble to a stop at the top of the slope and wheel around. The sword had cut completely through the right side of its chest, from front to back. Muscle and bone were destroyed, and the monster’s right arm sagged down. It did not even pause. There was no reaction to damage; there was no pain.

It growled and came charging again, and Benny tried the same trick, aiming lower this time, trying to catch the leg.

The creature dodged out of the way.

Dodged.

It . . .

Benny’s brain almost froze. Even with the warning on Dr. McReady’s document, it was—it seemed—impossible.

The zom grabbed Benny’s vest with its good left hand and jerked him forward, toward its mouth full of rotting gray teeth.

Benny had no angle for a cut, so he punched the zom across the mouth with the hand that held the sword. The blow was awkward but powerful, and teeth flew from the open mouth.

The zom ignored the damage and lunged forward to take a bite.

Benny threw himself backward, and the zom’s shattered teeth closed around a pocket of the vest instead. Benny heard a bottle of cadaverine crunch to stinking fragments inside the pocket.

The creature did not notice or care, and Benny was positive now that the network of wires bolted to its face somehow cut off its sense of smell. Maybe the scientists had done it as part of some experiment, or maybe smell was really a zombie’s primary hunting sense. Not that it mattered right now . . . the zom could see and it could still bite.