"San… I'm sorry… I'm so, so sorry… I didn't mean…"

I stared in horror, unable to process any of her words. Unable to really process what I was seeing, even though I'd seen it hundreds of times.

No words. She was crying, but for the first time, I didn't know what to do.

"Does it hurt?" My voice was choked and raspy.

She nodded.

I realized I was crying, and now I really didn't know what to do. I just stared at the torn and bitten flesh on her wrist, oozing that telltale discolored pus.

I didn't think it would ever come this close to us. I used to think I was hardcore enough for the both of us that this would never happen.

*Z*

You put up with a lot of shit in Zombieland. But there are some upsides, too.

Like, no more Cheerios uniforms. I can wear leather jackets and knee-high boots and look like a total badass.

And I get to drive a boss G55 in matte black. That was a particularly nice find in Chicago.

And no one can pull me over for carrying a shitload of guns in the back. Or for driving 120 on the highway.

But the absolute, hands-down best part of Zombieland is that every night there is mind-blowing, post-apocalyptic sex. You never know which night might be your last.

I smiled at the blonde lying next to me in the back seat and kissed her forehead. She wrinkled her nose and buried her face in my shoulder. How she could stay so fucking adorable when the undead wanted to make us a combo meal was beyond me.

"Five more minutes."

I lived for minutes like this. Minutes where you could forget you were in the back of your stolen Mercedes with double barrels and Uzis at your feet, parked on the side of the highway in the middle of the desert in Nevada. Minutes where it was just you and the girl you adored, sore and naked, wrapped in the one blanket you kept in your car.

I rolled over on top of her, pressing my forehead against hers with a playful grin as she squeezed her eyes shut. "No more minutes," I said.

"What's the big rush?" She squinted up at me, capturing my lips in a quick kiss. "Big date waiting for you in Vegas?"

"We already passed Vegas, remember?"

"Mm. Barely. You wouldn't even let me try that card-counting thing."

"You want to go back and count cards with a bunch of zombies?"

She grinned. I dipped my head to kiss her again, but she giggled and turned away. "Brush your teeth first," she said, sliding one of her legs between mine, pulling it back as soon as I tried to grind against it.

I groaned and rolled off her. "You're such a tease."

Britt wrapped her arms around my shoulders and pressed herself against my back as I brushed my teeth. She rested her chin at the crook of my neck. "You think we could find a place somewhere where there aren't any zombies, and just… live?"

I shrugged.

"Like, a house somewhere far away from everyone else. And with no people around, so there will be no zombies. And we can have a garden, and a fireplace, and rain on Sundays…"

I spat out the window and handed her the toothbrush. I held her face between my hands, running my thumbs over her freckled cheeks. There was so much sad hope in her baby blues. I'd tried not to promise her things I knew I couldn't follow through on, but when Zombieland sucked all the hope out of you, you needed something to hold on to—no matter how far-fetched—or you'd lose your mind. "And hot chocolate when it rains," I said.

Her eyes glimmered, and she kissed me like she'd never get another chance.

I pulled away. "I love you, baby," I said, "but you need to brush your teeth, too."

*Z*

"San?"

"We'll figure it out," I finally managed. "We'll fix it."

She smiled sadly and shook her head, handing me her shotgun. "You can't fix everything."