For the survivors holed up within the quarantine zone, LA must seem like hell on Earth. But it’s more perilous for the zombies shuffling around the gated communities of Bel-Air, the lobby of the Halperin Hotel and the sands of Venice Beach. After all, there’s a maniac running around with an arsenal of weapons, designed to leave limbs dangling loose, jaws hanging off, stomachs torn open and skulls smashed in. Having sliced up the City Of Angels into large chunks for its not-quite-open world, Dambuster Studios invites you to do the same to its present incumbents, giving you thousands of undead to kill and roughly as many ways to dispatch them.
After a torturous nine-yeardoesn’t bear as many scars as you might expect – certainly not as many as you inflict throughout its single-minded campaign. The equivalent of a three-chord punk song, it commits to its gruesome MO wholeheartedly. Not that there are many whole hearts left – or, for that matter, any other organs or limbs you care to mention – once we’ve gone to work with a flaming pike, a nail-studded baseball bat, a kukri reinforced with a blade, and a sledgehammer suffused with caustic chemicals that melt anything its bludgeoning metal head comes into contact with.
