Kevin sat in the small cafeteria on the ship. Adam had been kind enough to relieve him at the wheel in order for Kevin to grab some breakfast. The rations he ate were stale, making them bland and unappetizing. He swallowed the almost tasteless morsel while looking over the map he had spread on the table beside him.

"Would you mind some company?" Isabella asked.

"Not at all," Kevin said, a smile widening on his face as he looked up at her.

Isabella took the seat opposite him and looked toward the map. "What's with the map?"

"We've picked out a spot for our canopy raft," Kevin replied. He slid the map closer to her and pointed out a location. "There's a rather dense jungle located about here."

"It doesn't show on the map," Isabella countered. "Are you sure?"

"Perfectly," Kevin said firmly. "I had a cousin who worked in the area, picking and shipping fruit grown on site. The company had to clear some of the jungle to put in their grove of fruit trees."

"If we could gather some of the fruit tree branches, we might be able to graft them into the jungle where the colony is to be established," Isabella suggested.

"We had the idea in mind, but it turns out no one knows how to graft trees together," Kevin stated. "We asked everyone onboard."

"Not everyone," Isabella denied with a knowing smile.

"You know how?" Kevin inquired hopefully.

"I had a small garden before all this happened," she explained. "Since space was at a premium, I spliced a few trees together. Because the fruit matures at different times of the year, the trees produced a near constant supply."

"It sounds awesome," Kevin praised.

"Before we get there, I'll show you how to make the graft," Isabella promised. "I found a few plants around the ship we can use for practice."

"Good," Kevin said. "If our little colony is going to survive, we'll need a sustainable food source."

***

Kevin stood on the main deck, looking out at the deceptively peaceful orchard a half dozen yards from the shore where the ship had dropped anchor. The sunlight sparkling on the tranquil waters and the cool breeze drifting slowly past added to the serene feel of the place, but Kevin couldn't shake his unease.

"It's too quiet," George said as he joined Kevin by the rail.

"Sure is," Kevin agreed. No birds, insects, or any form of animal life made any noise at all, and none of them were to be seen. Except for the wind, the entire place was still and silent, raising the hairs on Kevin's neck and making him uncomfortable.

"Wonder where they've gone," George mused. "Even though the undead don't hunt animals, critters tend to avoid the corpses. Do you think the zombies are already here or simply close?"

"I don't know," Kevin admitted. "The horde we escaped is still following us. It may take time, but they will catch up."

"Then, we're wasting valuable minutes," George concluded. "We need to get going."

"Agreed," Kevin concurred. He turned to Isabella standing a few paces behind them. "The ship is yours until we get back."

"I don't think so," Isabella countered. "I may have taught you a thing or two about grafting plants, but I know it better than you. I know what to look for. This was my idea, and I won't have people risking their lives for my ideas when I am perfectly capable of doing it myself."

"We'll guard the ship," Razor volunteered. He and Red were carrying long range, scoped rifles. "If we see trouble coming, we can kill it or send a warning flare."

Although Kevin didn't particularly like leaving his ship in the hands of two former scavengers, he didn't really have a choice. Ultimately, scavengers were self serving, doing whatever was in their own best interests for survival. It was unlikely they would turn against him while he was gathering supplies they would all need to live. If any conflict were to erupt with the scavengers in their group, he assumed it would be after the colony was established. Until then, Kevin thought he could risk trusting them. He turned back to looking at the orchard and took a deep breath before slowly letting it out.

"Let's go," Kevin said. He headed for the ladder, followed by George, Isabella, Three Scar, and Adam.

No matter what might be waiting, or what threat might be coming toward them, they had no alternative but to face it head on. Gathering the necessary food and supplies was critical to ensuring the long term survival of their new colony. Failure could easily mean the death of them all.

After disembarking from the ship, Kevin led the way toward the tree line. Originally in neat rows, the trees had grown wild and untended during the years since the zombies arrived, constricting some of the previously existing pathways and completely choking off others.

Old leaves covered the ground in a crackling blanket of brown. The expedition force Kevin led created a considerable amount of noise because of the brittleness of the dry leaves they walked over.

The disruption they caused while trudging through the leaves made Kevin even more nervous than the silence as it would surely give away their position if anyone or anything were around to hear them. Something was decidedly wrong in this place, and it was starting to wear on Kevin's nerves.

A hundred feet into the thick growth of trees, Kevin caught sight of a medium sized building in the distance. He pointed it out to Isabella.

"Is that what you're looking for?" he whispered.

Isabella squinted her eyes as she looked hard through the foliage. After a moment, she turned her gaze toward Kevin and nodded silently in confirmation.

Stationed in what was left of a clearing, having become overgrown like the rest of the orchard, was the gray concrete structure they'd seen from a distance. The glass skylights had been broken years ago by the trees growing inside and pushing their branches up through the clear partitions. Vines draped the walls, and leaves covered the sidewalk encircling the building in a brittle carpet.

Kevin approached the front door and found it partially open. He waited beside the suspiciously unprotected entry. His heart beat loudly in his ears, and sweat made the grip on his bow tenuous.

In spite of his police training and the years he'd spend fighting the undead, Kevin had never managed to totally overcome his fear when entering an unknown and possibly threatening situation. He'd managed to control it enough to function, but it remained a struggle.

He took a few slow breaths to try and calm down before pushing the door open the rest of the way. The old hinges, unused for so long, squeaked loudly, causing Kevin to wince. He hesitated for a few seconds while listening for any sign the noise had attracted unwanted attention. When he heard nothing, Kevin carefully peaked inside.

A tall and majestic oak resided in the middle of the centrally located lobby, directly behind the front desk where a secretary would greet visitors. The glass top of the desk was covered in dirt and old leaves. The skylight, having been broken by the growing oak, allowed in the fresh air from outside, but the thick canopy of leaves blocked all but the occasional shaft of light from reaching the floor.

Carefully moving into the lobby, Kevin kept his bow ready as he approached the front desk. He maintained a safe distance as he circled around to the side where a waist high swinging door blocked the only way in or out from behind the desk. He breathed a slight sigh of relief when he found the space behind the desk empty. No scavengers jumped out with knives, and no zombies came staggering toward him with their arms outstretched.

George had gone the other way to provide cover from a flanking position. His eyes darted around the room, especially toward the tree in the center. The size of the massive trunk allowed for possible ambushes from behind it.

Isabella remained at the desk, brushing off some of the dirt and leaves so she could lean on the glass top. Perspiration glistened on her forehead, and her breathing was faster than normal. Her age was beginning to show, but she wouldn't let weakness keep her from doing her part.

George and Kevin proceeded on either side of the central oak tree and approached the dual stairways at the far end of the circular room. Kevin held up a hand, motioning silently for the remainder of the group to hold position and keep the lobby secure while George and Kevin cleared the upper floor alone.

Kevin climbed the right hand stairway while George took the left. The curving stairways joined at the second level, and the two men met to cover each other while searching the building. They'd brought Isabella to tell them what to look for, but until they made certain the structure was free of threats, they didn't dare bring her up; she was the expert here, and they couldn't risk losing her.

George stood back from the first door, gun held ready, and Kevin crept over to the office door and slowly turned the handle. Due to the pressure against the interior surface, the door swung open fast and deposited a corpse at their feet.

Kevin jumped back, and George pointed his gun at the withered remains in case it wasn't entirely dead. Based on the extensive level of decomposition, the body had been dead for a considerable amount of time. It's flesh, what was left of it, was desiccated and stretched, similar to old parchment. By the field hand overalls it wore, George and Kevin assumed it was one of the people who'd previously worked in the orchard before the zombies had arrived. A knife lay on the floor beside the body, and a quick inspection of the surrounding area found a sizable bloodstain on the carpet of the office.

"Shut himself in the office and committed suicide," George theorized. "Can't tell you have many times I've seen this."

"Me too," Kevin agreed. "It still bothers me."

"Good," George said while inspecting the room. "You should start to worry if it ever fails to bother you."

They checked the office, but it was clear of any more bodies, living or otherwise. One by one, the two men carefully checked every office, closet, and room they could find, even going so far as to look under the desks. No zombies or corpses were found. With the profound relief of both men, they completed their examination of the second floor and headed for the stairs to rejoin the others.

"It's clear up here," George informed Isabella while coming down the stairs. "Watch out for the body by the first office. It's a suicide, but you'll need to step over it to get in the room."

"I'll check that room last," Isabella said with a cheery smile before heading up the stairs to begin looking for the items they'd need to take back with them.

"We'll take the ground level," Three Scar volunteered. "Why don't the two of you take a rest while we handle this?"

"Thanks," Kevin said, leaning and partially sitting on the secretary's desk.

Adam and Three Scar readied their weapons before starting their search of the first level. They found a mess hall. The long tables of bare steel were littered by old plates, glasses, and silverware. Any food left in the open was gone as the native wildlife and insects had plenty of time to clear it away while the humans ran for their lives.

The chairs were an obstacle course as practically none of them were pushed under their tables. The people who'd left had been in too much of a hurry to care. Three Scar and Adam negotiated the tight and twisting pathway between the jumble of chairs, occasionally having to push one out of the way in order to continue toward the kitchen.

Stainless steel dominated the kitchen in appliances and counters. The tile floor was smooth and slightly sloped toward the floor drains for easy cleanup, but no one had cleaned the bloodstains near the door.

Stepping carefully over the old stain, the two explorers entered the kitchen. The bloodstain had dried years ago, but neither of the two men knew if the blood was contaminated with whatever turned people into the undead, so they erred on the side of caution and avoided getting any of it on them.

Adam pointed his metal bat toward the heavy door of the walk-in freezer. A series of bloody handprints smudged the stainless steel door as if zombies had tried to get inside but had been unable to work the handle latch.

Adam stood guard while Three Scar used a knife from a nearby table to open the door without touching the handle.

Rancid air blasted them in the face, nearly causing both of them to gag. Huddled together in the middle of the freezer floor were five people. They had frozen to death, but when the power had failed, the dead bodies had decomposed in a completely sealed room. The stench was overpowering.

"They took shelter inside and never made it out," Three Scar said softly.

"This is wrong," Adam added, quickly kicking the door closed and pulling the collar of his shirt over his nose.

"I'll say it is," Thee Scar agreed. "No one should die cowering in the darkness. They should have faced it squarely."

"Not that," Adam corrected. "The undead tried to get at them in here as evidenced by the door. Kevin and George mentioned a suicide upstairs blocking a doorway. The undead were here, but where are they now?

"Perhaps they joined one of the hordes," Three Scar suggested.

"Possibly," Adam permitted. "Let's get moving before they decide to come back."

Leaving the north wing of the facility, they checked out the south portion. Composed of laboratories, work tables were cluttered with cell culture dishes, beakers, and test tubes. Jars holding seeds of various plants were lined up in shelves along the walls. Charts showing the interior structure of the different types of fruits, key areas being pointed out and designated in writing, hung between the shelves.

Adam and Three Scar ignored the scientific materials and kept their attention focused on searching for anything that might threaten their survival. They made quick work of the laboratories, searching them and moving on in minutes.

***

Razor scanned the forested terrain for any sign of movement. It was proving a difficult task as every breath of wind sent the leaves quivering on the trees or drifting along the ground. For the best possible vantage point, Razor and Red lay on their stomachs on top of the bridge of their ship. The elevated position gave them a clear line of fire in all directions as well as a bird's eye view of the overgrown orchard.

It had been over an hour since the expedition team had vanished into the building Razor could barely see through his rifle scope. He was beginning to wonder if something had gone wrong.

He glimpsed something out of the corner of his left eye and swung his rifle around for a better look. Throwing out a hand, Razor snared the flare gun beside him and fired it into the sky. He checked through the scope, but no one had come out of the building.

"Come on," Razor growled. He suddenly realized why no one had responded to the warning flare. "They're all inside. They can't see the flare."

Red swiveled her powerful rifle and fired a single round at the broken skylights of the building's dome. The bullet shattered what was left of the glass, causing it to rain down inside the building.

Kevin looked up when the skylight broke. The thick branches and leaves blocked his view, so he ran to a window and noticed the flare burning in the sky, leaving a trail of orange smoke. Razor had told him the flare would be fired if a threat was coming they couldn't deal with, so the artificial light in the sky meant big trouble.

"Grab what you can!" Kevin ordered. "We're leaving right now!"