Cesar stomped forward and drove his fist into another ex. The dead man in the Kings jersey. The punch blasted through the corpse and left it impaled on the exoskeleton’s arm. The click-click-click of the zombie’s teeth didn’t falter. It flailed at the battlesuit’s head, its fingers filling the field of view. He grabbed it with his free hand and pried it off. It dropped to the ground and twisted back and forth.

Excerpt From Ex-Isle, pg 299
Peter Clines
https://books.apple.com/us/book/ex-isle/id989619017