Zombies didn't swear. A few of them were probably brighter than this guy, too, because the BANG of the gun was going to draw a small army as fast as they could shuffle. The damage was done, though, and now they had to contend with it.
Crack, and one of the zombies swarming around Happy about exploded in a shower of decomposing gore. On the landing stood a woman with blonde hair pulled back into a high ponytail, wearing jeans that could have been black at some time in a long life and an oversized flack jacket, ejecting the casing on a scoped rifle. She only caught his eye for a fraction of a second before she was taking aim again, the zombies' attention split but not enough to give the survivor a hole. The second one erupted as spectacularly as the first, and the woman commanded, "Upstairs, now!"