The world started shaking. Mr. Murray yelled, “Get away from the buildings!” It was a good thing, too: the plate glass windows of the stores started shattering.
We couldn’t shoot, too hard to aim, but it didn’t matter because the zombies weren’t coming anymore: they had all fallen over. When the shaking ended, it appeared that they couldn’t get back up.
“Hey, check it out.”
“We could stay here all day,” I said.
“Don’t be stupid.” He aimed at a close one pulling itself along with its hands, and put a bullet through its head. “They can still crawl.”