Not a single person dared open their eyes.
Not a single person dared make a sound.
Even as those cold, silky "sleeves" kept brushing their faces, tickling their nostrils and provoking the urge to sneeze?
People merely shoved their hands into their mouths and bit down hard on the webbing between thumb and forefinger.
Pain and the taste of blood became their only weapons against the tickling.
Time grew thick and slow at that moment. Every second stretched endlessly, each day feeling like a year.
But the nightmare was far from over.
Then several more similar screams erupted from farther down the tunnel.
They came from behind the Survival Convoy, where the assorted other convoys were.
Clearly, some people in those convoys had also failed to withstand the Eerie's touch and let a sound escape.
Then, without exception, the screams rapidly turned into chewing.
Rustle, rustle.
Like a swarm of silkworms frantically devouring mulberry leaves.
The chewing rose and fell all around, indicating that far more than one or two Eerie were passing through.
They were like a surging black river, flowing silently through the tunnel.
And those who failed to remain silent were stones thrown into that river, leaving nothing behind but a tiny splash.
No one knew what those Eerie actually looked like.
Though curiosity clawed at everyone's hearts like a cat's paws, the Apocalypse had taught them all one simple truth.
Curiosity was the most worthless-and most lethal-thing in the end times.
Only staying alive was real.
Footsteps, the sound of wind brushing past, and the rustle of clothing kept pouring in from ahead, passing through the convoy and receding behind them.
As though there were no end.
As though this silent march would continue until the end of time.
Everyone felt as though tens of thousands