A bullet crashed through the glass at the top of the window.

Where the bullet had crashed into the book, his ribs were on fire.

With every step he feared the next sound would be a bullet crashing into his head.

Slit eyes' bullet had crashed into a picture in the wall.

A second bullet and a third crashed into his contorted body.

His first bullet crashed through the thigh of an ugly Chinese.

The bullets crashed into the wood above his head.

Another bullet ripped away two front teeth and crashed through the back of his skull.

A bullet crashed past his head and made him pay full attention to his own battle.

Probably the last thing I would know would be a bullet crashing through my brain.