Mayhem frowned, he had a point. They had been at it for at least a good 10 minutes (though it felt like hours) and the ammo was quickly running short, forcing them to scrounge. Sadly, the gun store wasn't supplied with as many bullets as it had guns. Perhaps the zombies were being stalled well enough...
"A Molotov cocktail!" Mayhem blurted, "Someone has to find a glass bottle, fill it with liquor then stuff some cloth down it. You set it on fire with a lighter and then throw 'em at the bastards. While they're busy cooking we can make a run for it"