By the time you get outside, there is barely any room to move. So many screaming children have gathered that you have to carefully hop between the empty patches to avoid stamping on their arms. Not that stamping on their arms could possibly cause them any more discomfort than they already seem to be in... hmmm. You dismiss this thought as cruel.
Reaching a small clearing where you can stand safely, you try to summon their attention, but the noise of their amassed sobbing means that your shouts, claps and whistles have no effect. Your eardrums beg for mercy.
Looking up and down the road, you see 104 screaming boys to the west, and 113 screaming boys to the east.