Two Volkswagen trucks sped through the forest, disrupting the quiet of the rainforest. They slowed down at a junction that not far from the forest entrance and took a diversion. The path they entered was no longer than two hundred metres before it was taken over by trees. But it was far enough to get the party to where they were headed.This party comprised two sets of people. The cops, including the sheriff himself, and the Heart-of-Town priests, including the Shaman. The Shaman came down from the first truck with exaggerated care. When she got down, a troop of six men clad in religious attire lined up in threes behind her, forming two lines. Behind them, the Shaman's daughter, Natasha, took her place. Seven cops flanked the entire group on all sides while the Sheriff stood beside the Shaman. The Shaman was a tiny, little woman. She was very petite. Unlike her daughter who stood tall and thick and looked strong, she was fragile. Her skin was so pale, it was more white than butter. A
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