Once you get that first bite Mad, its over, you turn. Sorry, just the facts. A zombie bites you and you become their ilk, you are among them, you are zombified. At that point your days of thoughtful reflection are over, dreams and aspirations the toll of the turning. All you are is in need, the need to feed on the living. You are part of the problem pal, sorry. I'd drop your mindless undead infection infested hulk like a self destroying bad habit, nothing personal. Or faster, some bad habits aren't so easy to drop. Anyway you get the point, don't get bit. If you do get bit try to avoid getting shot in the head. Its really pretty simple.
Wondering, why would you abandon others of the really living, alive, non zombie undead sort? You do have to sleep. Nothing like having an amigo or three or a dozen that you can trust to watch your back while you are in dreamland being entertained by your sensuous dream senorita. If you are hunkered down waiting out the great zombie decomposition as Omega and I have determined will occur then one gun spitting out crucial head shots cannot compare to 5 or 10. Give me enough guys with enough guns and ammo and clear fields of fire and we'll become the worst nightmare the nightmarish zombies ever had. You think the zombies are a nightmare, you haven't seen this buckaroo with some steadfast amigos on a roll. Having a few hundred pounds of lead, a fuel source like a forest or a disused coal cellar still full of discarded dust and pieces, and a stack of boxes of dynamite from a quarry or mine and one guy could be making live rounds with spent brass while the others practice their marksmanship on the unliving brains of the undead. Problem solved.
I could sell tickets to this scenario.