II

"Oh, John, that's the most romantic thing you've ever said to me. I want to be married tonight, too."

"You two are crazier than the zombies," the priest muttered.

A loud bang shook the kitchen door.

"It's them," Charlotte cried. She gripped the priest's arms and helped him to stand. "Please, do it now!"

John made a frantic search of the dark kitchen, dashing to the counter where florists had been preparing the flower arrangements earlier. He gathered bits of damaged calla lilies and shredded leaves into his frantic fingers, then shoved the makeshift bouquet at Charlotte. "Can you forgive me for being so stubborn about the priest?"

She wanted to grab him and kiss him, but the doors to the kitchen were starting to splinter and bulge inward. "Forgiven. Hurry," she ordered, giving the priest a rough shove.

"Dearly beloved—"

"Skip the prologue and get to the necessary stuff." John tugged Charlotte over to the patio doors and opened them. A small breeze brought in the scent of the fragrant gardens, and the dazzling moonlight fell upon their joined hands. No sign of the living dead stalking the rosebushes. Yet. "Father, hurry up!"

"Do you take this man to be your wedded husband?"

"I do!" Charlotte sucked in the corner of her lip, eyeing the kitchen doors. The groans on the other side were increasing.

"And do you take this woman—"

"Yes, yes, I do. Always and forever, no matter what the world forces upon us." John squeezed her hands, sending bits of calla lilies across her gown. "I love you, Charlotte Masterson."

Her new surname suited her perfectly. John's calmness centered her, bringing her into the moment. She would remember this moment always, the moonlight, the adoration on John's face—

The kitchen doors smashed inward. Wood shards scattered. A horde of zombies stalked clumsily inside.

The priest shouted, "I now pronounce you man and wife, may no man put asunder—"

John swept Charlotte into his embrace. He kissed her deeply, lovingly, perfectly. And there, amidst the full moon's spotlight, they became man and wife—till death did part them.

The priest's dying yell didn't disturb their kiss. Charlotte clung to her husband's hard muscles. She could cling to him forever.

She felt his desire harden against her thigh.

"I want you so badly," he said, his dark eyes arrowed onto hers. An intensely dark beauty unlike any she'd seen captured his features, and Charlotte wanted to touch him, hold him, please him. "Your skin. Your taste. Your…flesh. I need you. Now."

She understood. She wanted to strip him bare and love him passionately for the first time. She prayed it wouldn't be the only time.

"They've killed the priest," she said.

"They'll go to hell for that."

She didn't even notice his gallows humor as she fell into his mesmerizing gaze. The sounds of hungry monsters segued to the background, her pounding heartbeat surging to the fore.

"Let's find a place to be alone," he said. "I crave you, Charlotte."

"Your skin, it's so hot, John. You're like…a beast."

"A beast who needs you, only you."

John tugged her out into the garden as the swing of a zombie's arm clocked Charlotte on the shoulder. Her party dress tore, leaving behind a slimy trail on her skin. John dodged the zombie that stalked toward them.

The creatures were much more stealthy than Charlotte had expected of the living dead. They lumbered, but quickly, and their arm and leg movements were fast. Their faces were whitish blue and their lips black; some had blood smeared on their faces and hands. Intelligence glimmered in their eyes. These were not mindless things, just as John had warned her.

"How could they have gotten here? I thought the outbreak was contained," she said. "Doesn't your research—"

"There are nests everywhere, and our research is just that, Charlotte. We've only begun to study the ones we have. They can speak, but they won't speak to us, slowing the progress of our research."

John swung Charlotte into his arms and leaped over a woman in white chiffon, crawling along the ground as she tried to get to her detached arm. It seemed to have a mind of its own as the fingers dragged it toward the lily-pad-dotted koi pond.

As soon as they were in a protected spot, John set her down, planting his hands on the wall behind her and pressing his body against hers. Aggressive and determined, he bit kisses down her neck and to her breasts.

"You're so lusty, John."

"I need you. Mmm, your skin is so salty."

Charlotte ripped open his black shirt and ran her hands up his chest. He was hot and sweaty from running, and his muscles pulsed under her touch. "But you still haven't answered my question."

"What question is that?" he asked, scanning down the hallway in both directions.

"The woman I found you with! It looked like you were—"

"No time, Charlotte. We need a safer place. It's too open here."

With a sigh, she nodded and shoved him down the hallway. But had she made the biggest mistake of her life by marrying a man who may have been making out with another woman? No, she knew John, she trusted him. She decided to give him the benefit of the doubt until the coast was clear and they could have a rational discussion.

If the coast would ever be clear… "Tell me the truth, John. Can you really get us out of this mess?" she called, following him through the dark hallways. "When all around us the world is coming to an end?"

"The whole world isn't ending, Charlotte. Just a small chunk of it."

"Yeah, but in case you hadn't noticed, we're on that chunk." As they paused outside a door and John listened intently, Charlotte's nerves prickled the hairs all over her body. "John?"

He nuzzled her into a firm hug and kissed her. "I'm scared, too," he whispered. His voice gentled her fears expertly. "We'll be scared together."

They crept inside the room, listening for any noise and scanning the darkness. Charlotte turned and flipped the light switch.

"What did you do that for?"

"I hate those stupid horror movies where they never flip on the light," she explained.

"But what if the zombies see the light under the door? Remember, Charlotte, they are rational, thinking creatures. It is only when they consume massive amounts of carrion that their intelligence seems to wane."

"Right. So in other words, don't underestimate the zombies. I just wanted to look around better." She searched the room, realizing it was Tina's. "No signs of the undead."

Hearing a shuffling sound on the other side of the door, Charlotte slapped the switch off. John tugged her toward a closet door highlighted by a beam of moonlight. "In there," he said. "Hurry!"