The clouds cast a gloomy greyness the following morning, matching the mood of the trio as they awoke from their fitful sleep. Vaughn had been plagued throughout the night by dreams of Olivia screaming for him to help her, he would run as fast as he could toward her voice, but when he would get near to her, her face would contort into a bitter grimace and she would shout that she hated him before disappearing in front of his eyes.
Grabbing a quick breakfast from their back packs, they scrambled to their feet, making sure the camp fire was extinguished before heading back through the field toward the Black forest.
Once they were stood in front of the charred treeline, none of them spoke as they each contemplated how best to get to the centre and rescue Olivia.
‘Maybe we should spilt up’
