Shoot her.

With the finesse of a professional he snapped his pistol out of his holster, lined the barrel up, and shot the zombie woman right between the eyes. The loud echo of the gun fire was deafening, but even so he heard the horde cry out.

It was a sound he had heard before, and it meant trouble was coming his way. Slamming his side arm back into its holster, he whipped up his rifle, and darted for the door.

Dropping to one knee, he aimed for the open door to the apartment. He could hear the trampling of feet, as the horde dashed down the hall toward the source of the sound.

There was no time to escape, only to fight. Breathing out, he watched as they came round the corner and piled through the door. Machine gun fire filled the apartment, as he decisively mowed the ravenous dead down.

Blood flew everywhere, as zombies fell to the ground deader then dead, but still more tried to get through, clambering over the fallen. One after another they piled up and spilled across the floor of the living room. As the last one was cut down, the deafening roar of the M-16 was met by an audible click, as the chamber dry fired.

Smoke expelled from the barrel of his rifle, and his right hand grabbed his pistol, as he remained still, listening for more trouble. He would have to be careful about making such a ruckus in the future, but at least he didn't have to worry about stumbling into this group of flesh eaters.