As the 'noise' became more oppressive and frightening, people started hitting the road in a panic, in an insane exodus, in search of a haven of peace. They fled either by themselves, with their families or in organised groups, some going one way, others going the other. How far they travelled didn't make any difference; they were trying to escape their own shadows. Groups of people started drifting along the roadsides, camping here and there. They were all running from their fears, led by an unlikely guide, a new messiah moved by the need to save. But far from weakening, the pain from the 'noise' was intensifying; families fell apart, groups split up as the kilometres passed. Hard shoulders and roadside ditches collected the remains of the unlucky ones, before they disappeared altogether . . .