"How far away is the disturbance?" Kevin questioned.

"A few hours at most," George answered.

Kevin grimaced. "Have Razor and Red begin evacuating the ship and leading the people here. We can't afford to wait."

Although Kevin had been moving swiftly and efficiently, the knowledge of the undead closing in filled him with a greater sense of urgency. He quickened his pace but kept his speed at a manageable level as he didn't want to be careless and get someone killed because he'd missed something vital.

Tying off a rope ladder, Kevin dropped it off the side of the cargo net, and it unrolled all the way to the jungle floor. Despite the length of the ladder, it barely reached the ground because of the great height of the colony in the trees.

A thought about someone other than the refugees climbing the ladder sprang to his mind. The survivors were in no condition to fight off a scavenger attack if one came. The encampment had no defenses against the high end firepower the savages carried.

Ultimately, Kevin dismissed the worrying thought because scavengers were all about taking and hoarding supplies. They wouldn't come miles out into the jungle for the simple reason there wasn't anything out there for them to take. They would stay with the cites and around abandoned military bases where salvage was more abundant.

Relief let Kevin sigh as he realized he wouldn't have to fight scavengers again, but he wondered if the zombies hordes had already wiped them out. Maybe there weren't any more scavengers. It was a sobering thought, and it made him think about his group of survivors and the possibility of them being the only living people left in the world.

George approached in his helicopter, and his imminent arrival put all of Kevin's musings on hold as he was forced to concentrate on the task at hand. Opening the rear door, Kevin found this trip contained several of the older refugees who would've had trouble making the journey from the ship by land.

"Right this way," Kevin said, ushering them out of the aircraft and into one of the air cushioned rafts. "Welcome to your new home. No phones, no pool, and only one pet, but I'm sure you'll love it all the same."

Across the way, the golden retriever barked happily as if pleased at being included in the conversation.

Kevin could tell the people were uncertain. Most had never even climbed a tree, much less taken up residence in it, but he had no time to explain things. Once he unloaded the passengers, he was forced to immediately start on the cargo. Whatever couldn't be brought by helicopter would have to be carried or abandoned at the ship, and George didn't have unlimited fuel. Every second Kevin spent unloading cargo and people was one less second they would have for those still on the ship.

Unless he knew the supplies to be fragile, Kevin shoved them out of the chopper and let the net catch them. He'd organize them later. Once the rear compartment was empty, Kevin waved at George.

"Good to go," Kevin shouted over the engine as he jumped out.

George soared into the sky in a graceful turn and headed away at full speed. In the time before George returned, Kevin pulled out a few smaller cargo nets and began bundling supplies together and tying them off to nearby branches in a resemblance of bizarre bunches of grapes.

***

George had kept a suspicious eye on the fuel gauge since first lifting off in the chopper, and the needle was resting firmly on E as he approached the ship. A warning light and an accompanying siren went off a few seconds before the motor started sputtering.

The controls became a fight to manage as the helicopter threatened to crash. He held on as the aircraft swooped down and landed hard on the helipad. George was thrown against his restraints and the noise of the impact left his ears ringing. His vision was momentarily blurred.

As his full senses came back to him, he realized he was alone. Unbuckling himself from the pilot's seat, he stumbled out of the helicopter and looked around. The ship was empty of people. Piles of cargo and backpacks had been abandoned on deck, some of it scattered chaotically.

Razor and Red had started the evacuation after his last trip, and he believed they were well on their way by now. He assumed the items abandoned on the deck had most likely been not immediately essential and left behind rather than risk slowing down the refugees with the burden of carrying them.

George thought about following. By himself, he'd easily be able to catch up, but a secondary thought came to mind, and he dropped the bag he'd picked up from the deck and headed below.

Returning to the main deck a few minutes later, George carried a long rope with a three pronged hook on one end. He spun the hook around several times to build momentum before casting the line toward a tall tree. The hook landed in a crevice where the trunk branched in two. He tugged on the rope a few times to make certain it would hold. Tying the rope off to the helicopter, George finished his task.

Scooping up the pack he'd dropped earlier, George climbed down the ladder off the side of the ship and dropped into the jungle. He looked up at the connecting line he'd strung between the ship and the tree, knowing they could come back for their other supplies without having to face the undead along the way.

As George took off at a brisk jog, he noted of the orange sky leaking through the canopy. He knew it wouldn't be too much longer before the sun set and darkness claimed the jungle. It was already difficult to see, and the uneven terrain made footing hazardous. He could only hope the undead would have similar troubles navigating the jungle.

***

Kevin heard the shouts of joy as the first of the refugees spotted the hanging lanterns below the cargo net draped over the canopy. As they started up the multiple ladders he'd deployed, Kevin picked up a sound he'd heard far too many times before, a low, moaning wheeze.

A chill ran up his spine as Kevin's heart rate took off at full speed. He screamed down to the refugees. "Climb!"

***

Razor and Red were on the ladders when Kevin sounded the alert. Ignoring the footholds, the two scavengers scaled the ladder hand over hand, quickly outpacing those following below them. Reaching the top, they rolled off into the cargo net and brought out their rifles, immediately firing on the emerging line of undead.

***

George heard the gunfire ahead but resisted breaking into a sprint. If the zombies had reached them already, he'd need his energy to get away or fight, and he couldn't afford to deplete his strength in simply reaching the confrontation.

An knot twisted his stomach. They'd started with over two hundred people after the evacuation of Walton. They'd lost sixteen to scavengers and Isabella to the undead. They still possessed a sizable group, but it now presented a problem. It would take time for such a large number of people to climb up to the canopy, even with multiple ladders, and the arrival of the undead would make the people panic and not as sure footed in their ascent. George knew no matter what he did, they were going to lose some people tonight.

He spotted the lights ahead, but George couldn't tell which of the human shapes belonged to the refugees and which ones where already dead, so he couldn't risk shooting into the crowd. Drawing his sword, he lunged over a log and stood under one of the hanging lamps where he could get a good look at those near him.

He could instantly see tell between the two groups in the light because the zombies had extra shadows on their faces where they were missing chunks of flesh. Their clothes were ragged and torn from the attacks responsible for their deaths.

Knowing who to attack, George swung his sword, cutting down the undead and clearing the area for the refugees to continue up the ladders. Guns fired from above, killing more of the shambling corpses and adding to George's efforts.

Unable to stay in one place, George was forced to keep on the move in order to protect more than one ladder. A significant number of people had already climbed up, and more were currently making their way to the canopy, but those on the ground were unarmed and unprepared to fight off the zombies while waiting for an opening on one of the crowded ladders.

As George was finishing off a trio of zombies, he heard the screaming start. Throwing a quick look to his left, he saw one of the ladders being swarmed by the undead. The people around it were being dragged to the ground, and those on the lowest rungs were being pulled off.

He was about to rush the undead when the ladder behind him came under attack as well, forcing him to choose which one to help. Knowing the first group was already taking injuries, he knew they'd be infected. He couldn't save them even if he killed the zombies chewing on them.

Charging the second group, George tore into the zombies with savage abandon. He turned, sliced, and spun, hacking and stabbing at zombies with every movement. The numbers of the undead were increasing faster than he could put them down. To make matters worse, the zombie formation was spreading out around the perimeter and closing in from multiple sides. With only three guns and George's sword, holding out would be impossible.

George withdrew from the front line as the zombies overran his positioned and claimed another ladder and the unfortunate people low enough to reach. He pulled the radio from his belt.

"Kevin," George said, taking a few deep breaths.

"Yeah" Kevin replied. "Still got an exit?"

"No," George answered. He sighed. "I tied a rope between a tree and the ship. If you can get to it, you can reach the ship."

"George?" Kevin questioned, his voice filled with concern. "What are you doing?"

"I left you something on the ship," George said, ignoring the question. "It's on the copilot's seat. God be with you."

George dropped the radio in the dirt as he wouldn't need it anymore. Lifting his sword, he turned to face the approaching zombies.

***

Kevin shouted into the radio but revived no response. He moved as fast as he could to the nearest ladder. He threw a rope to the survivors who had already reached the canopy and tied the other end to the top of the ladder.

"Pull!" he shouted to his people while taking a hold of the rope with both hands. Dragging the rope with every yelled command, the refugees hauled the ladder up, and as each new person arrived, they joined those on the rope, increasing the speed of the ladder's raising.

Kevin wasted no time in unhooking the ladder and transferring the rope to the next one about to be swarmed.

"Everyone get on!" he shouted to the crowds below, and they obeyed by latching on to whatever they could reach, even other people. Kevin looked toward his team and gave the order. "Pull!"

With more people on the rope, the ladder moved with greater speed than the last one, but the larger number of people hanging on was causing the ladder to strain to the braking point.