Time seems to deform and twist over the next few days as minutes and hours slow and speed up. Time has become changeable just like my thoughts on we plan on doing. I want to get into the labour camp now whilst simultaneously wanting to delay our attempt.

My nausea remains which I'm starting to think is nerves rather than food poisoning. Visiting the outside of the impenetrable Labour Camp was a wakeup call. What we're doing is stupid and reckless. That seems to be the theme of my life recently.

We continue exercising as we countdown to the day of our mission. I attempt to teach the others the few fighting techniques I learnt at the fight club but I was never any good and my lack of skill is evident. The worst part is every time I teach them I almost cry because it reminds me of Grey and how he helped me. I'm turning into an emotional wreck.

I continue to force myself to teach them. We need some false sense of being able to defend ourselves. We won't have any guns. We've each been given a small switchblade which I had to argue hard for. The closer we get to climbing into the delivery truck the more I feel like a lamb being sent to the slaughter. A very conscious and mentally aware lamb.

Max avoids Sienna and spends most of his time helping Imani who has taken him under her wing. In the evening, me and Max sit together watching the sunset. We don't say much but then we never did. Our relationship was not built on a mutual hobby or even a liking of each other. It's a forced relationship based on dependency and a sense of duty.

"Tomorrow we're going out and we won't be back until late. If something happens and I don't return, Imani said you can stay here for as long as you like. Also, Zed has promised he'll keep an eye on you," I say, not looking at Max. I'm still contemplating how I feel about the confirmation we will finally attempt to enter the Labour Camp. Tomorrow, we'll find out whether everything we've been preparing for was worthwhile.

"Ok," Max says simply. He knows not to ask what we're doing. After days of questions, he's realised he's being excluded and he seems both bothered and relieved by it.

We silently watch the sun disappear behind a line of trees in the distance. Once it's gone, Max stands up and our allocated bonding time is over.

"Try to come back," Max says.

"I will." I look up at him.

Max nods, satisfied with my answer, he walks away. My stomach churns, the queasiness worsens and now I really do need to try for Max's sake as well as Teddy's.