The music shop was more or less intact. Fortunately the wall of the shop that formed the end of the Mall had kept to the stained glass motif and even with the dirt and muck that had built up over the years, sunlight still managed to light up the store quite well. Zombies wandered seemingly aimlessly between the rows of CDs. This time though, it was easier to slip past them, moving through the empty rows and occasionally backtracking when they randomly changed direction.
“Does it come under ‘E’ or ‘S’ ?” Amber asked softly. “Probably ‘S’,” Ghost replied. After checking that there was a clear area around him for the moment he glanced through some of the CDs and nodded. “They’re organised by surname. This is the ‘H’ section.” As an afterthought he added “I hope she’s under popular music. I really don't want to have to search through all the categories looking for her.”
Amber nodded. “This is ‘F’ so I think we need to be over there.”
They both started to weave their way over to the right section. Amber reached it first. Ghost raised his shotgun to give her cover and carefully judged the timing and movements of the nearby zombies.
“Ok, now,” he said.
She quickly started searching through the CDs. “Great, it's not where it should be,” she muttered and silently cursed whoever hadn’t taken the time to put it back in exactly the right place. She moved to the beginning of the section and started flipping through the CDs.
As she neared the end, she heard Ghost curse. As she turned, she saw both a tall, lanky zombie approaching her and Ghost vaulting over one rack. He leapt up onto the rack that separated them and jumped off it bringing the butt of his shotgun down on its head with a sickening crunch. It fell backwards to the carpetted floor twitching and convulsing, black, sticky ichor spreading in a pool around it. He pointed his shotgun at it but didn't fire.
Amber looked carefully around, but so far their actions continued to go unnoticed. Quickly she rifled through the remaining CDs.
“It’s not here,” she said and headed back to the beginning of the section and started checking again.
“Oh great,” Ghost replied. “Summers Day. What do you think, jazz, blues, alternative?”
“All of the above?” She'd reached the end of the section again. “Which one’s nearest?”
Ghost tried to remember the layout but it has been a long time since he’d been here last. “I think Alternative was just over there. At least it's a much smaller section.”
A redheaded zombie that was probably female wandered over to them, and despite having two shotguns directed at its head, was apparently fascinated with the pool of black ichor. Slowly they backed away from it, as another zombie, this one dressed in a heavily stained business suit started to walk down the other end of the aisle blocking them in. Amber looked questioningly at Ghost and waited patiently for him to sort through different realities.
He handed her his shotgun and then cupped his hands together for her to step into, boosting her up and over the rack in a graceful leap. Then he froze in place. The zombie walked calmly up to him, staring through him into the distance. It tried to keep walking, gently bumping into him repeatedly, its fetid breath in his face. Ten seconds passed by, twenty, thirty; Amber looked around anxiously. Forty seconds.
“Ghost,” there was a warning note in her voice “more are coming towards you.”
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