'Til Death Do Us (A)Part: Love (and Sex) In the Zombie Apocalypse

     The couple on the closet floor were so absorbed in what they were doing, they didn’t notice her at first. She had time to take in little details, snapshots of the scene before her that would pop up later, when she tried to sleep.

     The way the hall light reflected off Holly’s silver bridesmaid dress, beadwork shimmering where it bunched around her hips. The dress that Maddie had paid for.

     Jack’s hands on Holly’s breasts, kneading as she moved on top of him.

     The look of ecstasy on her best friend’s face, a look she must have made hundreds of times herself while making love to the same man.

     Maybe she made a sound. Maybe they sensed her angry presence. Holly opened her eyes, and in the second before they widened with fear, Maddie saw it.

     Triumph.

     It was gone in a flash, but she knew it had been there. The knowledge stoked her rage higher, so that when she finally spoke it was a scream so filled with pain and fury she thought everyone in the building must have heard.

     “What the fuck are you doing?!”

     Holly was off him in a shot, hurling herself to the side while trying to pull down her skirt and hide her exposed chest. Jack scrambled to his feet, a shell-shocked look on his face; he clearly hadn’t anticipated being caught.

     “Maddie!” He stared at her, still breathing heavily. “It’s not…this isn’t what it looks like.”

     Maddie swept her eyes over Holly, taking in her disheveled clothes, smeared lipstick and just-fucked hair. She glared until the other woman lowered her eyes, then shifted her attention back to Jack, staring pointedly at his crotch. He looked down.

     They both eyed the condom hanging limply through his tuxedo’s open fly.

     He looked back up, a deep blush spreading over his face. Maddie said nothing, waiting to see if he would try another lie or apologize, beg for forgiveness. Maybe cry. She hoped he’d cry.

     Instead, he rounded on Holly.

     “You were supposed to lock the door!”

     Letting loose another scream, Maddie launched herself at him. The force of her anger worked with the element of surprise to overcome the size and strength differences between them; he slammed into the back wall of the closet. The crack of his head against the wood paneling filled her with a savage joy. She bared her teeth in a feral grin and grabbed a fistful of his hair, driving his head back again.

     And again.

     He brought his hands up, feebly trying to push her off. She pressed herself against him, pinning him to the wall; this close, she could smell him, a scent so familiar she could pick it out of a crowd – soap, and aftershave, the woodsy kind she gave him every year for Christmas. Only now it was muddled, mixed with something fruity and floral.

     Perfume. Hers.

     She kicked his shin, cackling when he yelped.

     Dimly, she was aware of others screaming. One was surely Holly; the close proximity of the closet made it seem like an air raid siren was going off by her ear.

     “Shut up!” Maddie yelled, still gripping Jack’s hair. His eyes were unfocused, his face blank; she wondered if he had a concussion yet. She slammed his head again. “Shut up, you stupid bitch, shut up!”

     There were hands on her, grabbing her shoulders, pulling her back. She struggled and kicked, digging her nails into Jack’s scalp, but whoever had her proved too strong and she had to let go. She watched as Jack slid to the floor dazed, shaking his head. Blood trickled down his forehead from where she’d scratched him.

     “Maddie!” Strong arms wrapped around her waist, lifted her up and back, out of the closet and into the hall. She continued to squirm, doubling her efforts when she saw Holly go to Jack’s side, pressing a concerned hand to his face.

     “Get away from him!” Her voice sounded unhinged, even to her own ears. “Get away from him or I’ll kill you, I swear to God, I’ll kill you.”

     Someone pushed past her and went to Jack, helping him to his feet. Others closed around her: her mother; Jack’s cousin Bill; Chrissy, her face pale with shock.

     And Marion, who appeared to be twice as furious as Maddie herself.

     “Get her in the choir room,” the older woman snapped. “And you.” She grabbed Holly’s arm and yanked her up, then shoved her away, hard. Maddie cackled again as she lost her balance and tumbled into the coats. “Get the hell out of here.”

     Holly opened her mouth to object, but Maddie didn’t hear what she said; the arms around her tightened and she found herself being carted down the hall. As Jack and Holly left her sight her energy ebbed, and she slumped against the person carrying her.

     “Here we go,” he said, pushing open the choir room door and depositing her inside.

     “Thank you, Blake.” Pressing a shaking hand to her forehead – the headache was really raging now – she dropped into the nearest chair.

     “No problem, Mads.” Jack’s groomsman knelt in front of her, his face full of worry. “Did I hurt you?”

     “No, no, I’m fine.” She inspected her hands and let out a bitter laugh. “Although, look: I broke a nail.”

     “You’re lucky that’s all you broke.” Marion stormed into the room. “You could have killed my son, you know.”

     “Marion,” Maddie’s mother said, following close on the other woman’s heels, “Don’t be ridiculous. Jack is fine.”

     “No thanks to your daughter!”

     “I’m sure there’s a reason-”

     “Of course there’s a reason! Did you see that little tramp?” Marion scowled. “Her panties were still on the floor.”

     Grace trembled, twisting her necklace between her fingers. “Yes…well.” She cleared her throat and looked around desperately. “This is certainly unacceptable-”

     “Unacceptable?!” Maddie started to rise, until Blake put his hand on her shoulder, halting her. “They were fucking in the closet!”

     “Madelyn!” Grace closed her eyes. “Your language!”

     She gaped at her mother. “My what?!”

     Marion put a hand up. “Be that as it may, it doesn’t excuse assault. I could have you arrested.”

     “Nobody is being arrested, Mother.”

     Jack limped slowly into the room, supported on either side by Bill and a man Maddie didn’t know. Chrissy was close behind, with the photographer bringing up the rear.

     “I don’t think we’ll be needing pictures,” Marion said, eyeing the man with disgust.

     “Relax, Mom.” Jack sat gingerly in a chair, staying, Maddie noted, on the other side of the room, as far from her as possible.

     “I told him to come with us; he needs to sit down somewhere.” Jack waved the man in. “Have a seat. Blake will get you some water.”

     Blake looked at Maddie and frowned. She gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “I’m fine. I won’t try to kill anyone while you’re gone.” She winked for good measure, but he only frowned harder.

     “Oh for God’s sake, Blake, just go!” Marion ran a hand through her hair, frustration all over her face. “And get Father Davis. We need to speak with him.”

     “What for?” Maddie asked. “So we can tell him the groom was just caught fucking the bride’s best friend? In the church? He’ll love that.”

     “Language, Madelyn!”

     “SHUT UP, MOM.”

     “Hey.” Chrissy came to Maddie’s side, laying a gentle hand on her arm. “Stop.”

     “Seriously?” Maddie shook her friend off and started to turn away, freezing when an idea hit her.

     “You knew.” She stared at Chrissy. “You knew about them.”

     Chrissy crossed her heart, the age-old signal for truth. “I swear, I didn’t. I had no idea.”

     Maddie couldn’t believe her. “You told me to get Holly’s coat. You sent me right to them!”

     “Maddie, I swear, I didn’t know!” Chrissy seemed on the verge of tears. “Why would I do that to you?”

     Maddie’s head was spinning. She wanted to trust her friend, didn’t really believe that Chrissy had sent her off to stumble upon Jack and his whore bonking in the closet, but she couldn’t dismiss the possibility out of hand either. Everything was such a mess. Today was supposed to be special.

     She looked at Jack, who refused to meet her eyes. “I don’t care what Father Davis says,” she told him, her voice shaking. “You’re going to hell.”

     “That’s enough!”

     Maddie sat back, arms crossed, and met Marion’s hard gaze without flinching.

     “It doesn’t matter,” she told the other woman. “Today is done.”

     Marion sighed. “Madelyn. In 20 minutes 200 people are going to show up at this church, expecting to see you marry my son. What am I supposed to tell them?”

     “That he can’t keep his dick in his pants?”

     The photographer snorted, a laugh that quickly turned into a cough. Marion waited until he’d caught his breath, then continued.

     “You’re in debt. Jack is in debt. I’ve already paid for your honeymoon. Do you really want to waste all of that?”

     Maddie shook her head, unswayed. “I don’t care about the money.” She considered. “And neither do you. You don’t want your snobby friends to find out what he’s done.”

     “That is neither here nor th-”

     Another explosive cough interrupted her. They all turned, waiting for it to subside so they could resume arguing. Instead, the photographer bent double, wheezing.

     “Water,” he rasped, tears streaming down his face as he struggled for breath. “I need-”

     He slid from the chair onto his knees, choking. A fine mist of blood sprayed from his mouth, spattering the choir room floor. Maddie stared at the gleaming droplets, transfixed. Her mother screamed. He collapsed onto his side and gasped once.

     Twice.

     And stilled.

     Chrissy leapt from her chair and ran to his side. She placed her fingers on his neck and pressed, searching for a pulse.

     “Well?” Marion demanded. “Did he pass out?”

     Chrissy looked up, her eyes wide.

     “No,” she said, horrified.

     “I think he’s dead.”

     Heading off down the hall, Maddie wondered again where Holly could be. She lived twenty minutes from the church; even oversleeping and a traffic delay couldn’t account for being this late. She’d better have texted Chrissy.

     As she rounded the corner at the front of the church she collided with the photographer, who nearly dropped the camera he’d been fiddling with.

     “Oh! I’m sorry!” He fumbled with the equipment, losing his grip again as he was seized by a coughing fit.

     “Are you okay?” Maddie watched, concerned, as his face turned an alarming shade of red. “Do you want some water?”

     He shook his head, shifting the camera to one hand and using the other to retrieve a handkerchief from his pocket. Maddie thought she’d have to get some water anyway, or some help, as he covered his mouth and continued to cough violently. She was just about to shout for someone to come when the cough subsided, his color returning to a normal hue.

     “Are you sure you’re all right?” He seemed much sicker than he’d indicated during their phone call. She bit her lip, wondering if he’d be able to do his job.

     He wiped his brow and gave her a wan smile. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.” He saw her glance uncertainly at his camera. “My assistant is outside getting the rest of my stuff,” he said. “He’ll be helping me with the shots.”

     “Oh, okay.” Maddie let out a breath, relieved. She gestured back down the hallway. “Were you looking for me?”

     He nodded. “I thought I could take some ‘getting ready’ shots for you. Nothing inappropriate,” he added quickly. “Just, you know, your mom helping with your dress, that kind of thing.”

     “That sounds fine.” She chewed her lip some more, thinking. “I have to go figure out where my maid-of-honor is, but I should be right back. Go ahead and set up. Second door on the right.”

     He set off, and was halfway down the hall when she remembered.

     “Hey!” He turned. “Do not take any pictures of my sister.”

     “Oh…kay.” He gave her a puzzled look.

     “You’ll see what I mean. Just wait for me to get back.”

     He shrugged. “No problem. See you in a few.”

     Resuming her walk toward the chapel doors, Maddie’s thoughts settled on her sister. It was unsurprising that she’d chosen to dress like a two-dollar tramp on a day when Maddie was supposed to be the center of attention; she was always pulling stunts like that. Maddie recalled the mohawk her younger sibling had sported to Maddie’s college graduation; the strung-out musician she’d brought to the engagement party. Jessie was incapable of letting anyone else have the spotlight. Why had Maddie thought her wedding day would be any different?

     Poor bastard, she thought, recalling that Jessie had dressed to impress. Bobby and Carol Franks had been friends with Maddie’s parents for 20 years; she thought she remembered meeting their son, who was a few years older, a handful of times. It had been a long time, though – she couldn’t remember what he looked like, let alone his name.

     Hopefully he remembers Jessie. Nobody should walk into that blind.

     Picturing the potential look on his face when he got his first glimpse of Jessie, she snickered as she entered the chapel. Chrissy saw her and waved, bending to say something to the organist before heading down the aisle.

     Maddie checked out the decorations that had been put up while she waited, and was pleased with what she saw. Soft white lights had been strung along the railing at the front; sprays of white roses perched on either side of the chapel entrance and the altar, framing where she and Jack would stand. More roses, tied with blue and silver ribbons, hung from the end posts of each pew. Small tables had been placed against the walls along the outer aisles, each topped with glass bowls; little white candles floated inside.

     It was exactly what she’d always pictured. This, at least, is perfect.

     She was still gaping when Chrissy reached her; she found herself enveloped in a huge hug.

     “I was just about to come back!” She eyed Maddie’s hair and face before breaking into a grin. “You look amazing!”

     Maddie smiled back, her friend’s warmth and enthusiasm working to calm her. “Thanks. I feel pretty amazing. I just hope Jack likes it.”

     “Oh please. Of course he will!” Glancing around, Chrissy added, “Although we wouldn’t want him to see you too early. You shouldn’t even be out here.”

     “Yeah, I know. I have to put out a few fires.” She gave Chrissy a hopeful look. “I don’t suppose you know where we could find a long coat, do you?”

     “Ah. So Jessie found you.” Chrissy laughed. “I told her you were going to be pissed.”

     Maddie rolled her eyes. “She thinks she looks great, of course.”

     “Well, yeah. It’s not so bad, actually. For the club. But for today, no, we definitely need to cover her up. Father Davis will have a freaking heart attack.”

     Maddie giggled, relaxing further.

     “Hmm.” Chrissy tapped her nails on a pew top, thinking. “Holly was wearing a sweater jacket kind of thing when she got here, maybe that will work.”

     “Holly?” Maddie wrinkled her brow. “She’s here?”

     “Yeah, she got here a while ago.” Chrissy blinked, looking confused. “Is she not in the rectory?”

     Maddie shook her head. “I came out here to find her, actually. I didn’t pass her on the way out, either.”

     “Maybe she got roped into helping the photographer or something.” Chrissy shrugged. “Her coat should be in the choir closet, anyway. They cleared out the robes so we could use it.”

     “Miss Striker!”

     They both turned to the interruption. A spry little man in an eye-watering yellow suit hurried up the aisle toward them, wringing his hands.

     “Mr. Baum.” Maddie smiled at the florist, a smile that faded as she noticed that the man was near tears. Visions of a lost delivery, dead flowers, all manner of disaster flitted through her head.

     Bad luck.

     “What is it?” she asked, reaching out to place a hand on his arm. He was shaking, she noticed. “What’s wrong, Mr. Baum?”

     “It’s a disaster!” The man seemed on the verge of a total breakdown. “A disaster! Oh this is the worst, just the worst thing!”

     Maddie took a firmer hold and guided Baum into a pew. “Here, Mr. Baum, sit down. Take a breath.” She clamped down on her own panic as she watched him do as she said, calming bit by bit. “Tell me,” she said gently, “What’s happened?”

     “The hydrangeas!” Baum lay his head back and moaned. “They didn’t send them! I told them to send them, they were supposed to, but they’re not here!”

     The two women exchanged worried glances over Baum’s head. “So…the bouquets…there are no flowers?” Chrissy asked.

     Baum shook his head. “No, no, we have flowers. But…they sent…cremons.”

     “What?” Maddie was beyond confused. “What the hell are cremons? Are they blue?”

     “Yes they’re blue!” Baum snapped. “A very pretty blue, in fact. But they’re not hydrangeas!”

     Maddie looked at her friend, shaking her head. “Marion picked the hydrangeas,” she said. “If they’re blue then I don’t care. I can’t-”

     Chrissy waved her off. “Go. I’ll take care of this.” She sat beside Baum, who still looked like he’d start sobbing at any moment. “I won’t be long.”

     Maddie went, asking herself what else could happen. What are cremons? She guessed she’d find out when she walked down the aisle.

     The thought prompted her to check her watch again; she noted with alarm that she now had only forty minutes to get ready. She had to move if she didn’t want to get married in sweats.

     Hesitating inside the chapel entrance, Maddie did a quick duck and peek to make sure there was no sign of Jack. Not seeing anyone, she headed toward the other hallway. She peeked again – the guys were using the choir room to get ready, so she was running a real risk being down here. Still, they needed that coat. She resolved to be fast.

     Approaching the closet – which was really more of a room, big enough to hold the church choir’s winter and summer robes – her steps, quiet and quick, suddenly slowed. She heard what she thought was movement inside.

     Just someone hanging their coat.

     With the door closed? In the dark?

     Oh shut up.

     Feeling foolish, she nonetheless waited, hand on the knob, ears straining.

     There! As she listened there was a muted thud, followed by a moan.

     “Sshh,” a voice said. “Someone will hear you!”

     Maddie felt her stomach drop to her feet. Rage began to course through her, until her hands were shaking as badly as Baum’s had been. She knew that voice.

     “You motherfucker,” she whispered.

     Slowly, slowly – aware that she was about to see something that would make her slutty sister and unidentified cremons pale in comparison – Maddie opened the door.

     And got an eyeful of Holly – her eyes closed, head thrown back – riding Jack Cooper for all she was worth.

Day One

     Staring at herself in the mirror, Maddie Striker could hardly believe the day had arrived. She’d made it through tears (her mother’s), shouting (her mother-in-law’s), rehab (her sister’s) and a breakdown (collective, and terrifying for all involved). She’d put up with a vegan cake maker, a last minute hunt for a photographer after the first one had quit and a florist she was 80% sure was 100% insane. She’d invested in a night-guard, after a year of grinding her teeth had necessitated a root canal. She was $5000 in debt. But she was finally here.

     Today, she was getting married.

     “Can you believe this? This is so wonderful. I can’t believe it! Can you?” Her mother, Grace, sat dabbing her eyes and repeating the same nonsense she’d been saying since she’d woken up that morning. Grace Striker was good at two things: crying, and fretting. Maddie was grateful Grace had chosen the former for the day; she’d had her fill of the latter in the fourteen months it had taken to plan this damn thing. She was all fretted out.

     Normally Maddie would have rolled her eyes at her mother’s emotional display, but truth be told, she felt a little like crying herself. In two hours, she thought, I’ll be Mrs. Madelyn Cooper. A warm thrill shot through her.

     Patting her upswept hair, she smiled at her reflection. She knew she wasn’t a beautiful woman – had lamented that fact in front of hundreds of mirrors before this one – but the team she’d given two months’ worth of paychecks to do her hair and make-up had gone a long way toward disguising that fact. Her eyes, her lips, her cheeks that looked, my god, like she had model-worthy cheekbones (“A little highlighter, love, and nobody knows the difference!”) – everything was perfect. She couldn’t wait for Jack to see.

     Sweet, handsome Jack. He thought she was gorgeous even without 3 hours in an artist’s chair, a fact that still, after years, never failed to surprise her. He’d had his pick of the girls at their high school, and later at his prestigious college, but in the end he’d chosen her. She carried that with her, like a treasure in her pocket, to be taken out and admired when she was down and alone: anyone he’d wanted, and he’d picked her to be his wife.

     I’ll make him happy, she thought fiercely. I’ve done it for this long; I can do it forever. I don’t care what she says.

     She was Jack’s mother. Marion Elizabeth Conrad K Cooper, a woman with as many names as she had sticks up her ass. She swore the K stood for Kennedy, that they were distant cousins, but Maddie had her doubts; she suspected Marion had added it when she’d married Jack’s father. If he’d ever known the truth, her husband wasn’t telling – he’d died when Jack was 2. Probably to get away from her. Jack was her only child, and she was fiercely protective of him. Very little was good enough for her Jack. Especially not Maddie.

     One good thing had come out of these long months of planning: Maddie had taken a perverse, petty pleasure in doing the exact opposite of what Marion had wanted, as often as she could.

     The first shot fired had been the wedding cake, hence the need for a vegan baker. Marion had insisted they use an incredibly expensive, snooty friend of hers who operated a “baking boutique”, where the cakes started at 2k and every single decorative flower came with its own additional fee. Maddie had thoroughly enjoyed introducing her to the tie-dye clad hippy who owned the simply named Val’s Cakes; the pop-eyed look of horror on Marion’s face had provided enough euphoria to get Maddie through writing the check for Val’s services. Which, as it had turned out, weren’t all that much cheaper than the boutique’s. Specialty ingredients meant specialty prices, after all.

     The dress, though. The dress had been the coup de grace.

     Thinking of it now, she went to where it hung, on the outside of the rectory’s closet. Carefully, reverently, she removed the plastic bag that had protected it for the last six months. She caught her breath, as she always did, when she saw it in all of its uncovered glory.

     I’m getting married in this dress. She shivered. She couldn’t, even now, quite believe it.

     It was exquisite. Floor-length organza with a chapel train and delicate beadwork that covered the bodice, dainty lace straps and a belted satin waist that created the illusion that she was smaller than she truly was – it was a dress fit for a princess.

     And it was blue.

     Marion had been furious. “You cannot get married in a blue dress,” she’d declared when Maddie had shown her.

     “Why the hell not? Lots of brides are choosing non-traditional colors these days. It’s actually very trendy.”

     “I don’t care what’s trendy, Madelyn. It’s not proper. Brides wear white.”

     Maddie had grinned at her, unable to resist poking the bear. “I’ve been with your son for six years, Marion. I don’t think anybody expects me to wear white.”

     “My mother will be there,” Marion had hissed.

     “I don’t think she could wear white either,” Maddie had snapped back.

     Gasps. Offense. Outrage. Maddie had been appropriately contrite, but later she and Jack had laughed about it, laughed until they’d collapsed onto the bed in tears. When they were calm again he’d rolled over and placed a hand on her breast, teasing the nipple through the fabric. “I like blue,” he’d whispered in her ear, his hot breath giving her goose bumps. “But the wedding is so far away. By the time it gets here, you might have to wear red.”

     “Are you calling me a whore?!” she’d asked.

     He’d grinned. “Do you want me to?” Then he’d brought his mouth down to where his hand was, and everything else had been forgotten.

***

     The sound of the door opening behind her broke Madelyn from her thoughts. She turned, a word of greeting on her lips that became a gasp.

     “What in the hell did you do?!”

     “Ohh Jessie,” her mother moaned, turning her face away. “Oh no.”

     Maddie’s sister ignored them both, crossing the small room to preen before the mirror Maddie had just vacated. She adjusted the bodice of her dress, blew herself a kiss and twirled; Maddie noted that she lost her balance at the end and staggered just a bit before righting herself.

     “You don’t like it?” Jessie grinned. “I think I look fab!”

     Maddie saw dark spots dance across her vision. Don’t pass out. You’ll ruin your hair. Don’t pass out.

     “You look…” She groped for words. “You look like a hooker!”

     Their mother winced, but Maddie knew it was the truth. Jessie’s hair was teased and shellacked with at least a can of hair spray; her make-up, it appeared, had been applied with a trowel. She’d poured herself into a little black dress, cut so low at the top and high at the bottom that Maddie was certain she couldn’t bend over without exposing herself from both directions. And her skin…what was on her skin?

     “Are you wearing body glitter?” Maddie asked, incredulous.

     Jessie nodded, still smiling. “It’s silver! It matches your dress!”

     “Her dress is blue,” Grace said, as if that would undo what she was seeing.

     “Yeah, I know, but…but the sparkly bits…” Jessie trailed off, her face falling into a pout. “You don’t like it.”

     “Are you insane?” Watching her sister totter back across the room, seeking refuge in the chair beside their mother, realization hit. “Oh my god. You’re drunk.”

     “I am not!” Jessie slumped in the chair. “Mom, tell her I’m not.”

     Grace very carefully averted her eyes. “I’m not getting involved.”

     “Are you kidding me with this?” Maddie glared at her mother. “You were supposed to watch her!”

     “I’ve been with you most of the morning, how was I supposed to do that? I thought she’d be okay!”

     “I don’t need somebody to watch me,” Jessie interrupted.

     “Really?” Maddie looked her up and down. “Because all of this says otherwise.”

     Jessie rolled her eyes. “Fine. I had one drink.”

     “Bullshit! And it’s not even noon.”

     “I was nervous!” She gestured at Grace, who kept her gaze trained on the far wall. “Mom said she invited a guy she wanted me to meet. You know I get shy.”

     Maddie pressed her fingers to her temples and closed her eyes. “What. Guy?” she ground out.

     Grace answered reluctantly. “Bobby and Carol’s son. He just got back from overseas, and Bobby couldn’t make it, so I thought-”

     Maddie cut her off with a gesture. “Forget it; I don’t care. We need to fix this.” She eyed her sister’s dress. “Maybe we can find a coat, something long so we can’t see your ass.”

     “Whatever. I think I look hot.” Jessie rolled her eyes again, a move that made Maddie long to slap her, then gave her sister a sly half-smile. “Besides, you won’t give a shit about me when you see what Marion is wearing.”

     Maddie froze. “What?”

     Jessie shrugged. “You’ll see. She was right behind me; she must have stopped to bitch at the photographer. Did you know he’s sick?”

     “Yes,” Maddie sighed. “He called me. She hounded the other guy until he quit, so now we’re stuck with this one. It’s just a cold.”

     “Whatever,” Jessie said again. “She sounded pissed, so I would-”

     She stopped as the woman in question entered the room, seeming to bring a gust of cold air with her. She greeted Jessie and Maddie with a chill smile and a regal nod; her hello to their mother held a touch more warmth. “Grace. You look lovely.”

     Grace plucked at her skirt, shooting a nervous glance at Maddie. “Oh. Thank you, Marion.” She paused a moment before adding, “So, ah…so do you.”

     Marion glanced down at her outfit – a beautiful white silk pantsuit that looked expensive and tailor-made – and then back up at Maddie, favoring her with another tight smile. “I know it’s gauche to wear white to a wedding. But I thought, since the bride wasn’t, it would be okay.”

     Oh you wretched bitch, Maddie thought. She opened her mouth to reply, but Jessie beat her to it.

     “I thought white at weddings was for virgins.” She cocked her head. “Did yours grow back?”

     “Jessica,” Grace hissed.

     “It’s all right,” Marion said, her voice dripping with scorn. She gave Jessie an once-over and wrinkled her nose. “I see that you started early today. I suppose it’s a good thing I declined to pay for an open bar.”

     She let the awkward silence hang for a moment before turning her attention back to Maddie. “Are you aware that the photographer is ill?”

     Maddie nodded. “I was saying before you got here, it’s just a cold.”

     “He could have the flu!”

     “I doubt it,” Maddie said. “If it was the flu he’d be in bed. Besides, he does baby pictures too, I’m sure he’s had the shot.”

     Marion made a moue of distaste. “Those shots make you sicker than the flu does.”

     “Well, either way, he’s what we have.” Maddie spread her hands helplessly. “He was all I could find on short notice; he wasn’t sick when I hired him.”

     “Yes. Well.” Marion sniffed. “Perhaps you should have taken my recommendation. Where did you even find him?”

     “Online. Uhm, Craigslist, actually.”

     Marion arched one perfectly groomed brow, but refrained from further comment. Glancing around the room, she asked, “Where are the other girls?”

     “Chrissy is with the organist, making sure she has everything,” Maddie said, referring to her bridesmaid. “Holly…” She checked her watch. “Holly is late.”

     “Holly is always late,” Jessie complained. “You should have made me your maid-of-honor.” She blushed under their combined glares. “At least I’m here!”

     Maddie frowned as she looked at the time again. It was true that Holly was always late, but this was a bit much, even for her. She’d promised to be there when Maddie got ready; she’d already missed the hair and make-up, and with the ceremony in an hour it was almost time to start dealing with the dress. Where the hell was she?

     Grace seemed to notice her daughter’s growing concern and hastened to reassure her. “I’m sure she’s on her way. Why don’t I go see if Chrissy has heard from her?”

     She started to rise, but Maddie waved her back down. “I’ll go,” she said. The room felt suddenly hot and stuffy; if she got stuck in here with Marion, Jessie and no mediator, she’d flip. “I need some air.”

     “Don’t let Jack see you!” Marion called as Maddie left. “It’s bad luck!”

     Not bothering to respond, Maddie shut the door and leaned against it for a moment. It was cool and quiet in the hall; she could hear the organist doing warm-ups in the chapel area but the sound was distant, muffled. Pressing her fingers again to her temples, she groaned. She could feel the beginning of a migraine pulsing behind her eyes.

     Bad luck, she thought.

     I think we’ve had enough of that today already.

     It started in a lab, as these things always do.

     A worn out assistant, working the eleventh straight day of the graveyard shift; his thoughts were already on the four-day break ahead of him, the beer in his fridge, the girl waiting to enjoy one last weekend at her parents’ summer house before the weather gave way. He was thinking of sand, and salt, and sex, and so he missed the mold.

     Such a small thing, in a batch large enough to fill 200,000 vaccines; he might have missed it anyway. Swirling, dispersing, as the temperature in the vat rose and it began, rapidly, to grow. The heat should have killed it – was designed to do so – but this time, it didn’t. That wasn’t his fault; sometimes, as we know, shit happens.

     The vat emptied into a second machine, this one designed to check for any problems before dispensing into vials. It detected the foreign substance and sent the error warning to his computer. By that point, he was drowsing; he input the override with eyes mostly closed and dropped back into his chair. Later, he wouldn’t remember doing it. Would, in fact, deny that there had been a warning at all. He would be fired, the batch recalled.

     By then, it would be too late.

     For now, he slept. And the vials filled.