The main hall of the bunker was both long and wide, but the last time Meriwa had been through there it had been so bitterly cold, even with a borrowed coat on. Now, it was anything but. There were so many people, lined up in haphazard rows down the length of the entire room.
Some waited for treatment, all reveled in the feeling of safety in numbers.
Piled up like sardines, Meriwa had never seen anything like it. The air was stifling hot, not unlike being in the greenhouses at midday, but instead of the smell of soil, this was the smell of life. Sweat, and fear, and determination. The bitter scent of antiseptic and blood was blunted by the sound of laughter in the air.
It wasn’t always pleasant but there was something admirable about it – the way that these shifters just got on with it
