Jonathan awoke to the sound of birds chirping in the hills. It took a moment before his vision cleared, but he could see that it was a beautiful morning. Another rarity. It was a blue sky with little cloud cover. The breeze felt nice as well.

He turned around to see the others. Only he and Orlando were awake.

"Did you sleep?" He asked Orlando who was sitting with legs crossed staring away in the distance.

It took a moment for Orlando to acknowledge him. "Little. Very little. I just couldn't. The thoughts alone perturbed me to no end. It surprised me that you could sleep so easily. I just heard of that massacre, but you clearly beheld the bodies. How could you?"

Jonathan did not answer. Perhaps he did no longer get affected at sights of dead bodies. But these were killings.

"Beatrice kept on stirring and turning. It took me a good amount of time to put her at ease and calm her down. Though I have to say Grace was surprisingly still as you."

"It's okay, Orlando. We have started to move away from the place where we are comfortable. We must adapt. These sightings and experiences must not decimate our motivation. We have to keep faith in our hearts."

Orlando looked at him with disbelief. "You say that so easily. That drive of discovery has really got to you."

Jonathan laughed. "I think it has."

"Anyways," Orlando got up, "I think we all would have some serious problems on the way. The water is doing something to me. I don't feel too good. My stomach keeps on turning." Jonathan now understood why Orlando looked that way.

"Now that you mention it, my belly does feel a bit stiff." Jonathan placed his hand on it. He belched. "Ugh, seems like boiling could not get rid of all the impurities. We did bring the water from upstream beyond the bodies though."

"It would only worsen with time. We must move fast. Do your morning duty and wake them up after that if they still aren't awake." Orlando moved to attend to the mules who seemed to be doing just fine.

Jonathan stood up, a bit queasy, belched again, muttered, "Oh lord," and went to somewhere appropriate and private.

"What's wrong?" Mary looked at Jonathan who was lying flat in the wagon. The constant jerking of the vehicle did the littlest to ease his stomach.

"You peacefully slept through the whole ordeal. You wouldn't know."

"Tell me!"

"You drank from the buckets we filled?"

"No, why?" Mary looked confused.

"Huh? Then-"

"I drank from a pot I had brought along. It was mostly to be used as a mug, and while bringing I thought, why not fill it and bring it along? If while arranging the items any of you placed something heavy on top of the barrels, it would have been a hassle for me to get to it, so I went with this idea." She smiled.

"Ha! Good for you." Jonathan slammed his head back down on his palm.

"So...now you have food poisoning?"

"And it's baaad!" But right then a thought struck his mind...rather a word.

Jonathan heard Mary ask, "What about you Grace? Beatrice?"

"I have a mild one," said Beatrice. "It's not as bad as his."

"Well, seems like I'm stronger than you all! I don't have one!" Grace boasted, grinning.

"It's still a long way to go. Keep it down, will you?" Orlando said turning around from the driver's seat.

"You look baaad," Mary imitated Jonathan, chuckling to herself, and Jonathan caught a glimpse of Orlando rolling his eyes.

But his mind was not there with them. It was roaming with strange thoughts. Why did I recall this particular word? It's so foreign. He took a few moments before speaking it out loud in his mind. Diarrhoea?

After travelling for another few hours, exhaustion took heavy hold on them all. Grace and Mary were fine for the most part, Jonathan could tell as they were fluid in their actions, but the same could not be said for him and the others.

Orlando could no longer take the stress. They had to stop soon.

"It's afternoon and yet the weather is merely temperate. This ought to make you feel better!" Mary scolded at them. It really smelled different, fragrant with the numerous different flora, and the hills gave a characteristic edge to it. It might have been the morning dew drying up.

But Jonathan could not care less. He cared only for his stomach and nothing else at the moment, so Mary's words came across as nothing more than whining to him.

Orlando groaned and pleaded her to quit with her constant yapping.

Jonathan snorted. They really had it the worst.

The path was quite steep now. It had spiralling turns. Jonathan could no longer contain it. He rushed to the side of the wagon and hurled his insides out.

He coughed and said, "Oh, much better."

To his great joy, he caught sight of a waterfall when the wagon turned the next curve.

The sound of splashing water filled him with joy. The wagon stopped at once and he and Orlando ran to it and drank. Orlando vomited as well (in the bushes) and then drank some more.

As Jonathan wetted his face, he heard the buckets clatter and saw Grace jump down from the wagon. She threw the bad water downhill and came his way.

He was relieved. Finally they had pure water to drink. What a pain it had been! He could never forgive those villagers.

He went to the roadside. The waterfall dropped more or less straight downhill directly from their line of passage. A bridge made of wooden planks and ropes connected it to the other side. It looked like this was the path regularly used by Anabel's people.

The scenery was spectacular. All this time feeling sick, he had barely paid attention to it, but now he saw so many hills and canyons before they disappeared near the horizon due to fog. They looked like algae ridden rocks basking in the sun. And where the water broke through their hearts, it shimmered in the sunlight.

"Told ya! You wouldn't have felt so sick if you just listened to me," Mary said, keeping her hands on her waist.

Despite it being utter nonsense (how could scenery cure one's sickness and make you feel better?!), Jonathan had to admit, this view was enough to cheer up anybody and everybody. With that, his desire to reunite with Anabel only grew stronger. How lucky she was to live in such a place as this. He thanked the Book of Salvation for permitting him to visit her this way. He had observed this fact- the Book revealed to the owner information in accordance with their desires. Jonathan was depressed and wanted to find purpose in his life, meaning to their existence. He believed there to be more than just what he saw everyday. And his curiosity had not been pointless. Because the existence of numerous other villages proved that there was a reason for all this.

With a determined look on his face he turned around. Orlando was helping Grace to load the buckets back on the wagon. They looked at him.

"Come on guys. Let's get back on track." He clapped.

As dusk neared a chill descended over their bodies. The fog was denser now. The trees were of a different kind all around, never before seen by Jonathan. Buzzing and chirping sounds emanated from seemingly everywhere, but they were not made by any birds Jonathan knew of. No. These were made by a variety of insects. He could tell just by how constant and unfamiliar it sounded.

He ate boiled potatoes and carrots with bread and looked at his map. They were almost there.

The forest grew denser all around them and it was starting to scare Mary. She said that creatures lurked in the darkness. She had read about it when she was younger.

If that were true, then it was only going to stall them for longer, not to say cause even more hazard and might even prove to be life threatening. Jonathan did not want that. He looked in Orlando's way. He was being fed by Beatrice as he continued to drive the mules in the correct direction.

Rustle.

At once Jonathan looked in the direction where the noise had come from. Were they really in harm's way? He spotted rocks tumbling down. This was bad!

"Faster Orlando!" He caught his shoulder.

Orlando nodded and whipped the mules, causing them to increase their speed.

"Stand your ground! Don't come any closer!" voices bellowed from higher up.

The mules neighed suddenly and came rushing to a stop. There were people all around them, some barricading their path up front, others descending down the hill slopes and closing on the sides.

Jonathan's group was surrounded.

He rushed his eyes across the length of the sudden crowd, examining the faces. They were all boys and girls around his age.

The only difference? They were all armed.