"Look!" Harry shouted. His head was turned back toward the road while running.
Iyisha turned.
The tank was standing again.
It should not have been. Its arm was gone. Its chest was open. Its head had been hanging wrong a moment ago. But it stood in the middle of the road, breathing hard through its ruined mouth.
Then its remaining hand reached down.
It grabbed one of the undead beside it and lifted the body to its mouth.
Iyisha stopped breathing.
The tank ate.
It tore into the head, crushed bone between its teeth, and swallowed. The torn flesh at its neck shifted. Its head straightened a little. The wound in its chest pulled tighter around the broken ribs.
It reached for another undead and bit down again. The torn parts of its body shifted as it fed, pulling tighter around bone and muscle in a way no wound should move.
"What the fuck! Marybeth said in a high-pitched voice. "It's regenerating."
"Run!" Malcolm shouted.
They ran harder.
