I ran down the alley, and every zombie within
the sound of my shout, which is to say all of them, followed after me.  Zombies can’t resist a big juicy brain, especially one that can perform geometric calculations, solve quadratic equations, or conjugate verbs in a foreign language, none of which I can
actually do, but zombies are perhaps not as discerning as they should be.

I darted this way and that, easily outpacing the decaying monsters.  They were slow but came on inexorably, which is to say unrelentingly or inevitably or remorselessly, or in this case all three.  I rounded another corner and came face to face with the end of the alley.  It was a dead end, which would have been ironic had I been chased by living things, but as I was being chased by dead things, it was just sort of poetic.  I turned around and the zombies continued toward me, just as inexorable and unrelenting and inevitable and remorseless as before.