9798231235049 - tadtad: after the clash: 1 (warfront horror) de valencia, jayson (6 resultados)
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Librería: Grand Eagle Retail, Bensenville, IL, Estados Unidos de AmericaGrand Eagle Retail
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EUR 20,79
Gastos de envío gratisSe envía dentro de Estados Unidos de AmericaCantidad disponible: 1 disponibles
Paperback. Condición: new. Paperback. Every four seconds, the dead breathe.At an isolated barangay hall in the Philippine uplands, Sergeant Antonio Dumlao and his squad are sent to perform the simplest, ugliest task in war: recover bodies, log them, move on. But the ravine below the outpost does not keep the dead. Heat films the… skin like resin. Blades go soft against flesh. Flies refuse to land. And when a prayer is whispered on a four-count, the corpses answer in time.What begins as procedure (notes, temperatures, range cards) slides into a siege measured by breath. Radios speak with no power. Nails sink themselves deeper into wood. Salt breaks a rhythm for a heartbeat and then fails. The battalion says hold position. Faith says pray. The count says obey.Dumlao fights to keep his men inside the only things that still feel solid: doctrine, language, the logbook's square handwriting. Valencia, young and stubborn, wants the truth on paper. Fadriquela, a medic with shaking hands, will risk anything to miss the beat that has taken root in his chest. Nicasio, who knows the old rites, hears something inside the cadence calling itself mercy. And Corporal Todio, mouthy, loyal, and running out of jokes, decides the only order left to him is how to go.The phenomenon spreads like a song you cannot stop humming. The outpost itself begins to breathe; walls flex, floorboards seal, windows turn to wood. Cadence infects machines, prayers, and men. Every ritual, whether military or holy, becomes a door. To step through, you have to count.When the fog finally swallows the field, the enemy that advances looks unnervingly familiar: formations drilled to Dumlao's voice, uniforms he signed off as KIA, weapons lifted by hands that move on someone else's inhale. Is it contagion, faith, physics, or command itself wearing a new face? The only instruction that comes through clean is the oldest: hold the line.Told in crackling, field-report prose that keeps tightening around the throat, HOLD POSITION fuses supernatural horror and military realism into a terrifying study of obedience. The novel moves like a metronome, shifting from four seconds to six, until breath, prayer, and trigger squeeze are indistinguishable. It is about the orders we believe, the rituals we inherit, and the moment a soldier realizes the thing giving commands might be listening from the other side of the radio.Fans of Jeff VanderMeer's Annihilation, Tim O'Brien's The Things They Carried, and the dread-driven precision of A24 horror will find a new obsession here. Once the cadence catches you, you will not read; you will march. This item is printed on demand. Shipping may be from multiple locations in the US or from the UK, depending on stock availability.
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Librería: PBShop.store US, Wood Dale, IL, Estados Unidos de AmericaPBShop.store US
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EUR 20,80
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PAP. Condición: New. New Book. Shipped from UK. THIS BOOK IS PRINTED ON DEMAND. Established seller since 2000.
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Librería: AHA-BUCH GmbH, Einbeck, AlemaniaAHA-BUCH GmbH
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EUR 29,58
Envío por EUR 60,80Se envía de Alemania a Estados Unidos de AmericaCantidad disponible: 2 disponibles
Taschenbuch. Condición: Neu. Neuware - Every four seconds, the dead breathe.At an isolated barangay hall in the Philippine uplands, Sergeant Antonio Dumlao and his squad are sent to perform the simplest, ugliest task in war: recover bodies, log them, move on. But the ravine below the outpost does not keep the dead. Heat films th…e skin like resin. Blades go soft against flesh. Flies refuse to land. And when a prayer is whispered on a four-count, the corpses answer in time.What begins as procedure (notes, temperatures, range cards) slides into a siege measured by breath. Radios speak with no power. Nails sink themselves deeper into wood. Salt breaks a rhythm for a heartbeat and then fails. The battalion says hold position. Faith says pray. The count says obey.Dumlao fights to keep his men inside the only things that still feel solid: doctrine, language, the logbook's square handwriting. Valencia, young and stubborn, wants the truth on paper. Fadriquela, a medic with shaking hands, will risk anything to miss the beat that has taken root in his chest. Nicasio, who knows the old rites, hears something inside the cadence calling itself mercy. And Corporal Todio, mouthy, loyal, and running out of jokes, decides the only order left to him is how to go.The phenomenon spreads like a song you cannot stop humming. The outpost itself begins to breathe; walls flex, floorboards seal, windows turn to wood. Cadence infects machines, prayers, and men. Every ritual, whether military or holy, becomes a door. To step through, you have to count.When the fog finally swallows the field, the enemy that advances looks unnervingly familiar: formations drilled to Dumlao's voice, uniforms he signed off as KIA, weapons lifted by hands that move on someone else's inhale. Is it contagion, faith, physics, or command itself wearing a new face The only instruction that comes through clean is the oldest: hold the line.Told in crackling, field-report prose that keeps tightening around the throat, HOLD POSITION fuses supernatural horror and military realism into a terrifying study of obedience. The novel moves like a metronome, shifting from four seconds to six, until breath, prayer, and trigger squeeze are indistinguishable. It is about the orders we believe, the rituals we inherit, and the moment a soldier realizes the thing giving commands might be listening from the other side of the radio.Fans of Jeff VanderMeer's Annihilation, Tim O'Brien's The Things They Carried, and the dread-driven precision of A24 horror will find a new obsession here. Once the cadence catches you, you will not read; you will march.
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Librería: PBShop.store UK, Fairford, GLOS, Reino UnidoPBShop.store UK
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EUR 19,92
Envío por EUR 3,81Se envía de Reino Unido a Estados Unidos de AmericaCantidad disponible: Más de 20 disponibles
PAP. Condición: New. New Book. Delivered from our UK warehouse in 4 to 14 business days. THIS BOOK IS PRINTED ON DEMAND. Established seller since 2000.
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Librería: AussieBookSeller, Truganina, VIC, AustraliaAussieBookSeller
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EUR 33,72
Envío por EUR 32,08Se envía de Australia a Estados Unidos de AmericaCantidad disponible: 1 disponibles
Paperback. Condición: new. Paperback. Every four seconds, the dead breathe.At an isolated barangay hall in the Philippine uplands, Sergeant Antonio Dumlao and his squad are sent to perform the simplest, ugliest task in war: recover bodies, log them, move on. But the ravine below the outpost does not keep the dead. Heat films the… skin like resin. Blades go soft against flesh. Flies refuse to land. And when a prayer is whispered on a four-count, the corpses answer in time.What begins as procedure (notes, temperatures, range cards) slides into a siege measured by breath. Radios speak with no power. Nails sink themselves deeper into wood. Salt breaks a rhythm for a heartbeat and then fails. The battalion says hold position. Faith says pray. The count says obey.Dumlao fights to keep his men inside the only things that still feel solid: doctrine, language, the logbook's square handwriting. Valencia, young and stubborn, wants the truth on paper. Fadriquela, a medic with shaking hands, will risk anything to miss the beat that has taken root in his chest. Nicasio, who knows the old rites, hears something inside the cadence calling itself mercy. And Corporal Todio, mouthy, loyal, and running out of jokes, decides the only order left to him is how to go.The phenomenon spreads like a song you cannot stop humming. The outpost itself begins to breathe; walls flex, floorboards seal, windows turn to wood. Cadence infects machines, prayers, and men. Every ritual, whether military or holy, becomes a door. To step through, you have to count.When the fog finally swallows the field, the enemy that advances looks unnervingly familiar: formations drilled to Dumlao's voice, uniforms he signed off as KIA, weapons lifted by hands that move on someone else's inhale. Is it contagion, faith, physics, or command itself wearing a new face? The only instruction that comes through clean is the oldest: hold the line.Told in crackling, field-report prose that keeps tightening around the throat, HOLD POSITION fuses supernatural horror and military realism into a terrifying study of obedience. The novel moves like a metronome, shifting from four seconds to six, until breath, prayer, and trigger squeeze are indistinguishable. It is about the orders we believe, the rituals we inherit, and the moment a soldier realizes the thing giving commands might be listening from the other side of the radio.Fans of Jeff VanderMeer's Annihilation, Tim O'Brien's The Things They Carried, and the dread-driven precision of A24 horror will find a new obsession here. Once the cadence catches you, you will not read; you will march. This item is printed on demand. Shipping may be from our Sydney, NSW warehouse or from our UK or US warehouse, depending on stock availability.
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Librería: CitiRetail, Stevenage, Reino UnidoCitiRetail
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EUR 23,85
Envío por EUR 42,86Se envía de Reino Unido a Estados Unidos de AmericaCantidad disponible: 1 disponibles
Paperback. Condición: new. Paperback. Every four seconds, the dead breathe.At an isolated barangay hall in the Philippine uplands, Sergeant Antonio Dumlao and his squad are sent to perform the simplest, ugliest task in war: recover bodies, log them, move on. But the ravine below the outpost does not keep the dead. Heat films the… skin like resin. Blades go soft against flesh. Flies refuse to land. And when a prayer is whispered on a four-count, the corpses answer in time.What begins as procedure (notes, temperatures, range cards) slides into a siege measured by breath. Radios speak with no power. Nails sink themselves deeper into wood. Salt breaks a rhythm for a heartbeat and then fails. The battalion says hold position. Faith says pray. The count says obey.Dumlao fights to keep his men inside the only things that still feel solid: doctrine, language, the logbook's square handwriting. Valencia, young and stubborn, wants the truth on paper. Fadriquela, a medic with shaking hands, will risk anything to miss the beat that has taken root in his chest. Nicasio, who knows the old rites, hears something inside the cadence calling itself mercy. And Corporal Todio, mouthy, loyal, and running out of jokes, decides the only order left to him is how to go.The phenomenon spreads like a song you cannot stop humming. The outpost itself begins to breathe; walls flex, floorboards seal, windows turn to wood. Cadence infects machines, prayers, and men. Every ritual, whether military or holy, becomes a door. To step through, you have to count.When the fog finally swallows the field, the enemy that advances looks unnervingly familiar: formations drilled to Dumlao's voice, uniforms he signed off as KIA, weapons lifted by hands that move on someone else's inhale. Is it contagion, faith, physics, or command itself wearing a new face? The only instruction that comes through clean is the oldest: hold the line.Told in crackling, field-report prose that keeps tightening around the throat, HOLD POSITION fuses supernatural horror and military realism into a terrifying study of obedience. The novel moves like a metronome, shifting from four seconds to six, until breath, prayer, and trigger squeeze are indistinguishable. It is about the orders we believe, the rituals we inherit, and the moment a soldier realizes the thing giving commands might be listening from the other side of the radio.Fans of Jeff VanderMeer's Annihilation, Tim O'Brien's The Things They Carried, and the dread-driven precision of A24 horror will find a new obsession here. Once the cadence catches you, you will not read; you will march. This item is printed on demand. Shipping may be from our UK warehouse or from our Australian or US warehouses, depending on stock availability.
