EIGHT
Contagion. Unstoppable, deadly contagion.
Everything in the town pointed to this fact.
Everything screamed it, loud and clear.
In the market, all commerce had ground to a halt. Only a handful of traders remained, refusing to heed the panicked whispers and obstinately pursuing their greedy struggle. They stood beneath their awnings, gazing in consternation at the empty surroundings.
In the industrial quarter, an air of stagnation lay over the factories. Riyyak’s operation was the sole hive of activity – continuously churning out face masks.
Endless scenes of tragedy now filled the streets: invalids carried aloft, carted by donkeys, or simply dragged over the rough ground. Schools and government offices had been abandoned, and all those with the means and the will were preparing
