In the lobby, Katie watched the zombies pour in through the shattered door.  They attacked indiscriminately, clawing and biting at robbers and hostages alike.  One of the robbers shot at them repeatedly, but the boot gun had no effect.  Finally, she pulled the receptionist girl and the kid with the robbers back behind the counter.  Two of the tellers were there, hunkered down behind the oak and glass.  They waited for the sounds of carnage to die down.  She looked at the gun.
“Can you use that thing?” she asked.
“It doesn’t work,” Ingmar replied.
“Not on them, on us.”