illness. Some, those with low-risk but contagious afflictions such as tuberculosis, were immediately quarantined and treated.
As more and more refugees passed the physicians’ inspections, members of the Horde erected the many supplemental tents in the camp. Still others opened their own living spaces to as many they could accommodate. Paul even passed Derrick, who should have been recovering from his own ordeal, hammering tent stakes into the ground. What was at first a haphazardly chaotic process, eventually smoothed into something more structured and ordered. After his few initial commands, the Horde had divided the numerous tasks among themselves to the extent that everyone in the camp moved about with purpose and conviction.
As he watched the day unfold, Paul’s thoughts immediately ran to the first group of refugees discovered in San Antonio. He had rescued them from near death only to fall victim to Drennan and his barbarous version of the Horde. He vowed these refugees would reach a happier fate.
During his time in New Cuba and leading search and rescue operations, Paul had commanded similar ministrations, if on a much smaller scale. Initial counts, from both his own people and some of the new arrivals, placed their number at over twelve hundred. Twelve hundred! Paul still felt staggered when he contemplated the size of the group. Pushing his mind beyond the immediate, he knew that the Horde had a comfortable amount of food and water, but feeding these refugees would place a detrimental strain on resources. And there’s an army of Tils out there, his mind reminded.
Before he knew it though, his thinking had already strained towards exhaustion, and the sun started its descent in the western sky. Several of the refugees, those Paul assumed to be the group’s leader had been invited to his tent to share the evening meal. Conversation was at first suspended as the three men and two women before him shyly lifted heavy forkfuls to their mouths. Though a feast by no means, the steaming bowls of spiced vegetable soup, followed by an assortment of grilled fish, and finally sweet bread, were clearly an enjoyable departure from their previous meals. Initially declining second helpings, Paul insisted they cast off fears of gluttony and personally added more to each of their quickly-emptied dishes.
With stomachs full and spirits lifted, discourse soon progressed to a conversation that enthralled him as he listened. Dan Seldis, a New York native of middle height and middle years, with a hairline just beginning to retreat, took the lead in relaying how the group had come to reach the Horde.
“It was tougher in the city,” he explained to Paul. “Everything fell into immediate chaos when the virus hit. I was there for 9/11, in the middle of that madness, but at least then we had each other to turn to for support. With the virus, it was different. No one knew how the infection worked, if people who looked healthy were actually going to be sick, or what. People just turned on each other.
“Law enforcement, or what was left of it, tried to keep some order. But there were just so many of those things running around that the cops couldn’t keep a handle on it. That’s when we started to see the military moving in and we thought things might get better. All over the city people were on rooftops trying to signal for help. Eventually, helicopters started picking us up, and we were moved to a military camp in Jersey. They didn’t tell us a whole lot, really. Just that the virus had reached pandemic levels and we were being held until a permanent facility could be secured.
“Three or four days later, I can’t really remember anymore, the place was overrun by the infected. It happened in the middle of the night, I woke up to people screaming and shots being fired. I knew it was bad when I started seeing soldiers running away. They were getting into whatever vehicles were around and just smashing through the fences, like they
As more and more refugees passed the physicians’ inspections, members of the Horde erected the many supplemental tents in the camp. Still others opened their own living spaces to as many they could accommodate. Paul even passed Derrick, who should have been recovering from his own ordeal, hammering tent stakes into the ground. What was at first a haphazardly chaotic process, eventually smoothed into something more structured and ordered. After his few initial commands, the Horde had divided the numerous tasks among themselves to the extent that everyone in the camp moved about with purpose and conviction.
As he watched the day unfold, Paul’s thoughts immediately ran to the first group of refugees discovered in San Antonio. He had rescued them from near death only to fall victim to Drennan and his barbarous version of the Horde. He vowed these refugees would reach a happier fate.
During his time in New Cuba and leading search and rescue operations, Paul had commanded similar ministrations, if on a much smaller scale. Initial counts, from both his own people and some of the new arrivals, placed their number at over twelve hundred. Twelve hundred! Paul still felt staggered when he contemplated the size of the group. Pushing his mind beyond the immediate, he knew that the Horde had a comfortable amount of food and water, but feeding these refugees would place a detrimental strain on resources. And there’s an army of Tils out there, his mind reminded.
Before he knew it though, his thinking had already strained towards exhaustion, and the sun started its descent in the western sky. Several of the refugees, those Paul assumed to be the group’s leader had been invited to his tent to share the evening meal. Conversation was at first suspended as the three men and two women before him shyly lifted heavy forkfuls to their mouths. Though a feast by no means, the steaming bowls of spiced vegetable soup, followed by an assortment of grilled fish, and finally sweet bread, were clearly an enjoyable departure from their previous meals. Initially declining second helpings, Paul insisted they cast off fears of gluttony and personally added more to each of their quickly-emptied dishes.
With stomachs full and spirits lifted, discourse soon progressed to a conversation that enthralled him as he listened. Dan Seldis, a New York native of middle height and middle years, with a hairline just beginning to retreat, took the lead in relaying how the group had come to reach the Horde.
“It was tougher in the city,” he explained to Paul. “Everything fell into immediate chaos when the virus hit. I was there for 9/11, in the middle of that madness, but at least then we had each other to turn to for support. With the virus, it was different. No one knew how the infection worked, if people who looked healthy were actually going to be sick, or what. People just turned on each other.
“Law enforcement, or what was left of it, tried to keep some order. But there were just so many of those things running around that the cops couldn’t keep a handle on it. That’s when we started to see the military moving in and we thought things might get better. All over the city people were on rooftops trying to signal for help. Eventually, helicopters started picking us up, and we were moved to a military camp in Jersey. They didn’t tell us a whole lot, really. Just that the virus had reached pandemic levels and we were being held until a permanent facility could be secured.
“Three or four days later, I can’t really remember anymore, the place was overrun by the infected. It happened in the middle of the night, I woke up to people screaming and shots being fired. I knew it was bad when I started seeing soldiers running away. They were getting into whatever vehicles were around and just smashing through the fences, like they
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