just about the only internal organ that doesn’t ever become external in this book is a uterus.
the guts! the gore! the slime! the pus! the …… ya, the list of icky goes on and on.
but it’s still, in a way, a kind of fun read for zombie fans. the premise is way cool: a zombie virus begun on the US west coast has worked its way eastward and been stopped only at the Mississippi River. the US abandons the midwest and the west and goes on about its business, after absorbing the non-infected refugees. the west is a giant graveyard, except the dead won’t lie down.
one man (cue music) has chosen to stay in arizona to hunt for his wife. in the meantime, to pay the car insurance or something, he takes on jobs: finding the random roaming dead and ending their undead misery.
all is well in this sunny, depopulated haven of bliss until some shady covert types let him know that he has to go find an old (possibly dead) friend in california, and bring back his blood.
complications, as they say, ensue; testosterone skyrockets. perfect grist (ha! ha!) for a hollywood movie.
there’s nothing deep here, except the gore on the floor–lots of derring-do, witty banter at terrifying moments, clever escapes. but if you’re in the mood for a popcorn book with a side-order of entrails, this book is your Manly Man.
just don’t try to read it at lunchtime, or over dinner.
one oddity in the book: everyone living and dead is american… well, almost… but anyway, all the tyres are british. can’t figure that one. has some british tyre-making company come along with tyres guaranteed to outlast the zombiepocalypse? a puzzler.