I didn’t want to be caught out in the sun.

But I was still getting used to the speed at which I could travel.

I had to be careful to not propel forward too suddenly in case I rammed right into a tree.

It wasn’t long before I reached a main road.

The problem was, this map was so ancient, it wasn’t like there were road markings.

There was just a black cross, and next to it was written Pilabres.

It could be an entire town for all I knew.

But it didn’t matter right now.

I was just enjoying having something to distract my mind with.

I looked up at the sign post.

None of the names matched the one on the map.

I ran a few miles up the highway until I reached another sign post.

Still no sign of the name.

I couldn’t help but think I was wasting my time at this point.

I should just return to the submarine before I bump into a human.

I was about to turn around when I caught sight of a building with a large signpost above it.

“Pilabres Motel.” Depictions of mountains were painted onto the sides of the building.

Crossing the road, I approached it cautiously.

With each step I took, the smell of human blood grew stronger.

I stopped in my tracks, holding my breath, not daring to go a step further.

Inside this motel, I would find my answer to what Pilabres was exactly.

I strained to see through the tinted glass doors.

I managed to make out a reception desk.

From here, I couldn’t see anyone inside.

If I was quick, I might just be able to swipe a few leaflets.

I started approaching the doors again.

Slowly at first, before I began to run.

I flew up the steps and swung open the door, holding my nose in an attempt to take in less of the scent.

Not even daring to stay long enough to look at what the leaflets were, I grabbed one from each of the holders and stumbled back outside, gasping for breath.

I hurtled forward, back across the road and into the forest again.

I didn’t stop until I reached a clearing several miles away where I finally felt distant enough from the smell of humans to stop again.

My chest heaving, I began to examine the leaflets one by one.

They all seemed useless to me at first—ads for scuba-diving excursions and hikes—but the last one I laid my eyes on held the answer.

Cascada Pilabres.

I’d learnt enough Spanish to know that cascada meant waterfall.

I looked back at Mona’s map once again.

Then looked at the map on the back of the pamphlet.

I began hurtling through the trees again toward it.

I crossed road after road that cut through the forest, and soon, I could hear crashing water.

I quickened my pace.

It felt like I was just half a mile away from it now.

“Surround the area.” It was a whisper, perhaps a quarter mile away.

I stopped running.

I began to detect the smell of human blood through the trees.

Footsteps rushed through the undergrowth, moving in around me.

The scent of blood grew closer.

My eyes shot upward to the trees towering above me, and with one massive leap, I sprang up to the top of the nearest one to me.

I climbed to the top, peeking out above the canopy of leaves.

I scanned the area all around until my eyes fell on the tip of a cliff.

A waterfall—about a mile away.

Cascada Pilabres, no doubt.

I looked downward.

The sounds of humans approaching were growing louder and louder, and now I could make out a faint beeping approaching along with them.

Some sort of device.

I couldn’t imagine what a group of humans would be doing in the jungle at such an early hour, or how they could have detected my movement from so far away.

But I remained deathly still in that tree as I stared down at a group of seven men beginning to gather in the clearing down below.

Peering through the gaps of the leaves, I saw that they were all holding black guns.

It was hard to make out their faces.

They wore hats that cast shadows over their faces, and some were wearing their collars zipped up high.

As they looked all around the clearing, their guns held up, I was expecting them to pass by and continue through the forest.

But they didn’t.

The beeping continued, and as they approached closer to my tree, it seemed to be getting louder.

Who are these people? My breath hitched as all their eyes turned upward.

I did my best to keep still, hoping I would merge with the darkness of the tree, but one of them pointed and hissed, “Up there.” I had about a second to consider what to do next as all seven men raised their guns and began firing.

I didn’t know who these people were, but something told me that I didn’t want one of those bullets hitting my skin.

Kicking with all my strength against the branch I was perched on, I leapt through the air and landed in the next tree about ten feet away.

Bullets ripped through the leaves, following me as I landed.

I had barely a few seconds to gain balance before I leapt onto the next tree.

Whoever these people were, they were bent on catching me.

They were following me on the ground.

I hurried my movements, leaping from tree to tree faster and faster, until I hoped that I was nothing but a blur to them.

I kept leaping from branch to branch until eventually their sounds became distant and I finally felt it safe to slow my pace again.

Wiping sweat from my brow, I stared up at the brightening sky.

The sun’s rays were close to peeking out from the horizon now.