The final ladder was about to be pulled up, and those remaining were in a state of full hysteria as they pushed and shoved to climb on. George defended them as best he could, and the rifle fire from above was proving to be a great benefit in protecting his blindside.

A woman slipped from the last rung and was approached by three zombies with more following gradually behind. George leapt to her side, and a horizontal pass of his sword removed the top half of all three zombies' heads.

Stabbing his sword into the ground, George used both hands to haul the woman out of the dirt and lift her up where she could gain a handhold once more. He felt the pain when a zombie bit into the side of his neck from behind, but he maintained his focus until the woman was safely on her way.

More of the undead were latching onto him, biting and tearing at whatever they could get between their rotting and blackened teeth. He took up his sword and did his best to cut them away, and a series of rifle shots provided him temporary relief.

His strength waned, and he stumbled to his knees, blood coursing down his neck, arms, and legs. His eyes turned upward to the canopy and the survivors who had made it to safety. After all the lives he'd taken as an assassin, and the innocent blood on his hands, dying here to save so many was fine by him, a fitting end.

He turned his sword around and pointed it toward himself. Glancing over his shoulder, he checked the position of the zombie approaching from behind. As it bent down to feed on him, George drew the sword powerfully toward himself. The blade pierced the skin under his jaw and exploded out the top of his skull in a perfect thrust into the brain of the approaching zombie. George Navarro and the corpse attacking him fell together in death.

***

Kevin was exhausted when the last refugee scrambled off the ladder and onto the net serving as the base of their treetop colony. He took a moment to look around and do a quick count. Including George, twenty-three others were missing. He laid back against one of the rafts, tears forming in his eyes.

Memories of friends and family he'd lost over the past ten years drifted through his mind, Isabella and George being the most resent additions to the casualty list. Despite the weariness in his muscles, Kevin forced himself up. He wandered away from the group, heading for the furthest edge of the net to be alone.

***

Kevin slid down the rope and landed on the deck of the ship, shedding his extra momentum in a shoulder roll across the metal floor.

It had been nearly three months since the refugees had taken shelter in their treetop colony. The undead had started a permanent residence below them, waiting for the living to come down. The jungle floor had become nearly solid with zombies packed together in close proximity.

Kevin had wanted to make the journey back to the ship much sooner, but the immediate needs of the colony had taken priority. A small mountain, complete with a cave network and freshwater spring, had provided the basis for their sanitary needs. A few hollowed out tree branches diverted a part of the water to a large cave area where wood partitions created individual showers below a series of artificial waterfalls.

The remaining water of the spring had been diverted to either drinking water storage or to a different cave where Kevin and others had set up a crude but functioning latrine. The sheer cliffs outside the mountain made certain they didn't have any unwelcome visitors.

Using the knowledge imparted by Isabella before her death, the colonists had successfully grafted the fruit tree branches they'd brought back from the orchard into the trees around their encampment, bolstering the fruit supplied by the jungle and ensuring an ample supply of food.

The survivors had moved through the treetops by swinging on ropes. Cutting branches and heavy logs, they'd brought them back to the colony for use in constructing more durable residences in the canopy. Sheltered among the strong branches of the trees, the jungle homes were simple but comfortable.

As everyone worked together, it didn't take long for the refugee camp to start looking like an actual city. Work had even begun on a platform to span the gap between houses and create a foundation where they wouldn't have to rely on the massive cargo net.

The reason for their cutting from tress further from their growing town was because they needed the ones closer in as room for the buildings they were putting together. The colony would expand in the coming years, and they'd require space to grow. Furthermore, if they cut down the trees closer to home, they'd sever their connection to the remainder of the jungle and be unable to reach the trees they'd need for building or food.

Alana slid down the line, and Kevin caught her to slow her arrival. She laughed and held onto him for a moment or two longer than necessary.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Sure," she replied. "You would think I would've gotten used to swinging through the jungle like a monkey by now."

"Practice makes perfect," Kevin said.

"You've been getting extra practice," Alana pointed out.

"What do you mean?" Kevin asked innocently.

"I saw you several times disappear into the jungle and not return for hours," Alana explained. "What are you doing out there?"

"I didn't want anyone else to know, so I kept it at a distance from town," Kevin told her. "I captured a pair of zombies, and I've been running an experiment with them."

Alana stepped back.

"What kind of experiments?" she inquired.

"This is why I didn't tell anyone," Kevin pointed out. "I killed one of the zombies, but left the other alone. When I'd go and check on them, I'd take note of the decay each one had, monitoring its progress. I discovered the decomposition rate is the same regardless if they are undead or really dead."

"Pardon my ignorance, but what does it mean?" she asked.

"It means we won't have to stay in the trees forever," Kevin clarified. "The zombies are continuing to rot, and they'll eventually fall apart at the seams and be unable to function, much less be a threat."

"We could retake the world," Alana breathed as she realized the full implications.

"All we have to do is wait," Kevin confirmed. "We can outlive them."

Silence fell between them as they considered the amazing possibility of reclaiming their world from the undead. Kevin, having already thought about was the first to start moving again, concentrating on the reason he'd come out here in the first place.

Kevin approached the helicopter. The aircraft was only half on the helipad, and the passenger side landing skid was bent from the impact of the crash. He tried the copilot door, but the impact had twisted the frame slightly, enough to wedge the door permanently closed.

Rounding the helicopter, he opened the pilot's door and gained access. Pulling himself half inside the leaning aircraft, he reached over and picked up the item on the copilot's seat.

"What did you find?" Alana asked.

"It's his Bible," Kevin answered, holding up the well worn book Geoege had always carried in his pack.

"He must have known he'd never survive, and left it behind for you," Alana lamented.

"Either that, or he was simply planning for all possibilities," Kevin countered.

"How so?" Alana prompted.

"He knew he could die, so he left it here, but if he lived, he could always come back and get it later," Kevin theorized. "Either way, he made sure it would be protected and available for those who still lived."

"Do you think he wants you to take up where he left off?" Alana asked.

"Could be," he tentatively agreed. He silently stared at the leather bound book in his hands for a moment before his focus returned to the present. "We have other supplies we need to collect. Let's get started."

***

Using a combination of cargo nets and tow cables, Alana and Kevin created a bridge along the rope George had established between the jungle and the ship. It wasn't sturdy enough to move the heaviest equipment, but the smaller items were easy enough to transfer to the jungle. Alana and Kevin returned to the colony site with full packs on their backs.

"What's this?" Kevin asked, pointing to a wood sign on one of the trees. Carved into the wood was Civitas Salvetur.

"It's Latin," Alana explained, her training as a teacher showing through. "It means 'City of the Saved'. Appropriate, don't you think?"

"Yes, it is," Kevin agreed.

"I'm glad you like it as you'll be its first leader," she said quietly.

"What was that?" Kevin asked as he stopped, bracing himself against a tree trunk while standing on a limb.

"I talked with the others, and they agree you should lead," Alana explained. "You've done well so far. Why change things?"

Kevin tried to think of a reason or excuse to get him out of it, but none came to mind. He sighed in defeat as he knew he'd just been drafted.

***

Kevin had known fear when facing zombies or scavengers, but the nervousness he felt now was something else entirely. Standing in the rafts atop the canopy, the entire population of Civitas Salvetur was gathered around to hear his acceptance speech for the position of High Elder. Secretly, he wished to be in the audience himself.

"My fellow citizens," he began, taking a steadying breath. "Many of you are aware of our recent findings. The zombies are continuing to decay and will one day be a threat no more."

He paused while a cheer rose from the crowds. Looking to his left, he caught sight of Razor and Red standing together. Her crimson hands were wrapped around Razor's muscular right arm in a partly loving, partly possessive, embrace. She'd found what she wanted and wouldn't let anyone take him from her.

Razor hadn't challenged Kevin's promotion as he was too busy with the training programs he was currently running. The numbers of casualties they'd taken during their journey had been directly caused by the civilians' lack of defense training, so with Kevin's permission, Razor had begun teaching everyone how to fight with weapons and hand to hand. Such losses would not happen again.

Shifting his focus, Kevin rested his eyes on Alana. She smiled encouragingly at him and offered a small nod of approval for his speech. He held up the worn Bible George had left to him.

"I keep thinking about the comparison George made between us and the flood," Kevin told them. "God saved a portion of humanity, lifting them up above a dying world, and so it is with us. We are here, high above the reach of that which would surely destroy us, and here we shall begin again.

"Many thought the arrival of the zombies was the end of the world, and it was. Pollution, crime, politics, and everything else that mired humanity and prevented progress has been swept away. Today, we have a chance to start again and do it better, to rebuild this world greater than it ever was before.

"The old world is dead. Welcome to the end of what was and to the beginning of what will be."