Back at the Whitesun Hotel, things were moving along surprisingly well, better than anyone had really anticipated when Marlon and his people first arrived.
It was a strange thing, when you thought about it. Margaret's community had grown used to working as its own quietness, Ryan's group being the only real outside contact they'd had in any meaningful sense. The idea of another organized group, a real one, over two hundred people strong, living just a short distance away on the Boardwalk, was a lot to absorb all at once. The world had contracted so drastically, had become so small and fragmented, that running into a functioning community of that size felt almost surreal. Like something you'd stopped believing was still possible.
But the walls came down faster than anyone expected.
