You attempt to stay absolutely still, pulling the blanket over your head. Fatigue soon overtakes you, and you sleep.
When you awake, still ill-used to this land of eternal night, you take out the flashlight and investigate around the Land Rover. To your dread, you find several deep
pawprints around it, as if whatever it was had investigated you. Pacing nervously along the vehicle's length, your foot brushes against something in the grass.
Pointing the flashlight at it, you recognize it.
It's Zoë's diary!
Clumsily left open, at that!
You look at the page it was left open to, and you see writing, in a hand disturbingly like Zoë's, though sloppier.
"I will free you. Soon."
The feeling of fear in the pit of your stomach is indescribable.