Kevin sat on the hood of a burned out car, staring at his badge. Having removed it from his belt, he held the polished metal plate in his hands, turning it and letting the early morning sunlight gleam off the edges. He'd kept the badge to remind him of his days on the police force, back when it had meant something.

He'd tried to maintain his oath to serve and protect, but after the fall of Walton, Kevin was starting wonder how much his badge mattered any more. He wondered if anything mattered anymore. Regardless of what direction they ran, the zombies would eventually find them. They were all going to die, and he couldn't think of any way to prevent it.

Kevin glanced at his shotgun, wondering it a fast death was preferable to the long and torturous life and eventual consumption by the undead awaiting all of them.

"Thinking about the past?" Isabella asked as the older woman walked slowly over to join him.

"At least in the past, we had hope," Kevin grumbled.

"We still do," Isabella countered. "If you believe."

"Don't start," Kevin objected. "If I want a sermon, I'll talk to the priest."

"Who, George?" Isabella asked. "He's not a priest, never was.

"Why does he wear the collar?" Kevin inquired.

"He killed the man who owned it," Isabella replied.

"What?" Kevin practically shouted.

"It's not as bad as it sounds," Isabella soothed. "His friend was a priest. He got bitten by a zombie, and a George was forced to kill him when he turned. He started wearing the priest outfit to honor his friend's memory."

"Oh," Kevin said in a calmer tone.

"George had never been very strong in his faith, despite his friendship with the priest," Isabella related to Kevin as she joined him in sitting on the hood of the old car. "Having to kill his friend didn't help matters much."

"I could tell something was off about him," Kevin commented. "Who is George, really?"

"To be honest, I have no idea," Isabella admitted. "What little faith he has seems to be the only thing holding him together."

"Care to clarify that statement?" Kevin asked, not liking where the conversation was going.

"After the death of his friend, George began questioning everything," Isabella explained. "He asked how a loving and just God could possibly be in charge of the world with things being as they are."

"How did you answer him?" Kevin inquired, interested in knowing the answer himself.

"To start with, I pointed out the pattern of history," Isabella stated. "There have been many times when people must have thought the world was coming to an end. When the Romans enslaved the known world and expertly butchered those who opposed them, I'm quite certain people must have thought themselves abandoned by God. Similar sentiments would be common during the raids by the barbarian hordes during the Dark Ages, or when Hitler was running his death camps and exterminating people by the millions. In each of these horrible points in history, one thing remains true."

"And, what is that?" Kevin prompted.

"Humanity survived," Isabella stated. "No matter what terrible thing befell us throughout history, we always prevailed because God brought us through it."

"Not without losses," Kevin reminded, thinking back to those killed over the years and more recently during the fall of Walton.

"We lost them, God didn't," Isabella gently corrected. "Have you read the Bible?"

"Some of it," Kevin answered. "I never really took it too seriously."

"Do you know what it says about what happens after death?" she questioned.

"Everyone ends up in front of God," Kevin said, remembering what he could. "The saved go to Heaven, and the lost go to Hell."

"Exactly," Isabella confirmed. "Do you think it happens differently depending on whether they die of natural causes or because of a zombie outbreak? Do you think a being who created all life would be hindered by the undead?"

"I wouldn't think so," Kevin concluded.

"Neither would I," Isabella agreed. "He has this in hand. We just need to trust Him. The knowledge God is in charge is what keeps George this side of sane, and it could help you too."

"Maybe it's just me, but I find it a little hard to blindly trust an unseen being when we're about to be wiped out by a very tangible threat," Kevin grumbled.

"What do you mean?" Isabella asked.

"We lost the town of Walton to a mass zombie attack," Kevin reminded. "We don't have the resources to build such heavy defenses again, and it's only a matter of time before we either run into another of those large hordes from a different city or the one following us catches up."

"It does seem rather bleak," Isabella said casually, clearly not distressed in the least.

"Since we are stuck in the open with no walls to hide behind, we'll have to fight, and what have we got?" Kevin continued. He gestured to Isabella. "We have a senior citizen, a fake priest on the edge of mental breakdown, one cop, and a slew of refugees who have never seen a zombie until a few hours ago, let alone fought one. Don't you get it? We're all going to die."

"So?" Isabella asked. "How is that any different than before the zombies showed up? Was it not a certainty that everyone living was going to die? Old age would claim some, alcohol, drugs, disease, terrorists, and natural disasters would claim others."

She pointed to the badge he held. "Every time you put on that badge of yours and went to work, you had to face the possibility you might not make it home, so why did you do it?"

"Because it was the right thing to do," Kevin replied. "People needed help and protection from the bad things in this world."

"Exactly my point," Isabella announced. "No matter what condition the world is in, we can still do the right thing."

Isabella stood up and rested a hand on Kevin's shoulder.

"Remember this," she told him while smiling at him in a grandmotherly way. "God put us on this planet for a purpose. As long as we're still alive, we've got more to do, and like any job, when we get finished, we clock out and go home."

She patted his shoulder and headed off to join the others, leaving Kevin alone with his thoughts, still holding the police badge in his hands.

Kevin remained seated on the hood of the ruined car for several minutes. He'd been in charge of the evacuation of Walton, so its people would look to him as to where they were supposed to go next.

The singing of a bird caught his attention, and he looked in its direction. Perched on the limb of a tree, a sparrow made its merry tune, totally unconcerned with the troubles of the world.

The bird resting on the limb of a tree reminded Kevin of the conversation he'd had with George about putting together a canopy raft and dropping it on top of a forest, out of reach of the zombies.

Although it was the best idea he had, Kevin didn't know how likely it was they'd be able to accomplish it as the undead were everywhere. Trying to find a forest where they would have time to make preparations would be the hardest part.

If they crossed the sea and found a deserted island, the zombies, who didn't need to breathe, could simply walk across the ocean floor and still reach them. Kevin had no idea the number of corpses in the ocean from shipwrecks and plane crashes that might also rise to threaten them the moment they arrived.

He knew a military base was nearby, but finding a useful vehicle was a slim possibility at best. Those still in working order had either been claimed by survivors or scavengers. Since the evacuation of Walton, Kevin now had a little over two hundred people to take with him. He doubted he'd find enough vehicles for all of them.

Regardless of his current predicament, Kevin knew he had to press forward. The zombies would eventually begin to follow them from Walton, and sitting here was only giving the undead a better chance at catching them.

He prepared himself as much as possible and secured his badge to his belt as he went to join the refugees. A multitude of questions were incoming, and he needed to have the answers ready and waiting.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Kevin said to get their attention. "I know this must be new to you, and you're understandably upset by the evacuation and loss of Walton, but if we are going to survive, we will need a new place of safety."

"And, where might that be?" demanded one of the civilians.

"The zombies can walk anywhere we can, so to be safe, we need to go where they can't," Kevin explained. "Specifically, we need to go up."

"What are you talking about?" protested another citizen of Walton. Panic laced the man's voice, and by the shared sentiment announced by those nearest him, the entire crowd was bordering on hysteria.

"Silence!" George shouted. The fake priest's voice thundered across the crowd, and they recoiled, partly because of his authoritative command but also because of the gun he held in his hand. "Keep your mouths shut and listen!"

"George told me about a scientific project where they deployed something known as a canopy raft onto the top of a forest," Kevin went on before any more interruptions broke out. "An inflatable network of air filled tubes created the outer rim and spokes of the structure, while netting between them provided the living and working space for the scientists involved. If we were deploy this, or something similar onto a forest, the zombies would never be able to reach us."

"What about food?" Isabella put forward as she came to stand with him at the front of the assembly.

"There should be plenty of fruit trees available," Kevin answered quickly. "If there aren't, we can find some and graft a few branches into the trees where we live. Remember this, the canopy raft would only be temporary until we can build new homes in the treetops."

Kevin scanned the crowd. They were nervous and uncertain, but none of them had any better ideas, and most of them were unprepared for the realities of the world beyond the outer wall of their former city.

"Everything would need to be tethered," Kevin continued. "If we were to drop anything, we wouldn't want to go to the forest floor with the zombies to get it."

"I think this sounds good," Isabella complimented.

"I agree," George chimed in.

"Any other ideas or suggestions?" Kevin asked. Silence was the crowd's response. "Alright then. A friend of mine was stationed at a military base near here. If we can get inside, we might be able to find what we require to rig our canopy raft. We'll need climbing gear so we can move about, and if we can't find a helicopter or something to deploy our raft, we'll need to climb the trees first and pull the equipment up afterwards. We should be able to find the needed gear at the base. Any questions?"

"Who here has combat experience?" George asked. No one answered. "I need anyone who can swing a baseball bat, a club, or a metal pipe to step forward."

A few dozen came toward the front of the crowd. George began passing out blunt weapons to them and posting them on the edges of the assembly to provide protection during the move.

Kevin smiled slightly. While he was their unofficial leader, George had apparently become head of their improvised militia.

"Let's move out!" Kevin commanded loudly, leading the way toward the estimated location of the military base.

The one thing Kevin had kept to himself was about who they might find at the base. If the military hadn't cleaned it out during the emergency evacuations, the potential supplies made the outpost a prime location for scavengers.