The abandoned cemetery where Old Mo and the others had taken shelter was now completely shrouded in night. Time slipped quietly away, drawing close to midnight.
Most of the men had long since fallen asleep, leaving only a few flickering, unstable embers glowing in scattered corners like phantom fires in the dead of night.
Old Mo had tucked the lower half of his body inside a sleeping bag, while his upper half leaned against a bone-chilling tombstone.
Chapter 351