Rachel was so tired from the trip she had made on her own.
After resting for a while she opened her bag and took a map and her pink agenda.
"Do you remember Carmen, my friend we were supposed to meet in her farm? I woke up with her call, she said she was ready to receive us...I didn't say a word about you, though. "
"What's about her, ribbit?" Marty asked.
"She's an anthropologist, specilized in Carribean folklore and she married a carribean guy whose mother is a vodoo priestess. Maybe they'll be able to help us. What do you think about going to their farm?" Rachel proposed.
Marty leapt back in the water to meditate on the matter. Would he like to present himself to a total stranger who might not have the answers for his "problem"? What could go wrong?!
"Okay..." he agreed reluctantly. "You already thought this trough, didn't you?"
Rachel nodded enthusiasmed and opened her agenda showing how she'd noted the adress and localized it in the map. It wasn't too far from the place they were. They'd had to go down the mountain and follow east deeper into the jungle where they'd finally reach a somewhat flat plane.
They both got on their way. Going down the path was the hardest part because they'd ocasionally cross with other people and tourists, Marty however quickly realized that he could camouflage when in the middle of the vegetation. He'd leap into the pbushes and stay really quiet until people passed. Three times that happened and three times it worked.
"Wow...you're better than a marine at it!" Rachel joked.
When they entered the jungle no more tourists where seen. They followed a trail until a steel crossbar stopped them, a sign in spanish told them it was private propriety: it was the beggining of the farm. They soon left the trees that mysteriously ceased to exist and entered in a grass plane, in the middle there was a two story house, and behind it trees and a mountain right far away. The view should be fantastic!
"I guess we're here!"