As summer drags on into August, Oran’s residents grow increasingly suffocated by the effects of blazing heat and plague, which has “swallowed up everything and everyone” (82). With heavy winds hitting the city, the plague moves from the outskirts of town into its center, crippling businesses that local officials have deemed nonessential. Martial law is declared, and citizens dwelling in districts that have been cordoned off from others begin to experience their segregation as a form of imprisonment that causes them to deeply resent perceived freedoms accorded to the others. Some affected groups take to looting and pillaging, while others—particularly those returning from quarantine—launch arson attacks in disillusioned efforts to “kill off” plague germs.

The death toll hits such a high level that authorities no longer have the time or manpower to organize customary funerals for the deceased, and furthermore they must remain cautious to not hasten the spread of bacteria among the living. Eventually, space in burial lots runs out, rendering quarantine’s initial 15-minute “safe” funeral services—already a mockery of death for most, given their brevity—impossible. At this point, human corpses are thrown like animal remains into common unmarked graves, with little or no observance of ritual formalities. Over time, even this method of burying the dead becomes impracticable due to overcrowding.