I'm really glad I didn't drink that bottle of Beam now . . .

First of all I'm sorry if you guys haven't heard from me in a while, judging from the date on the last comment by Robbert Dillinger time has gone screwy again. I don't know if it's been days weeks or months for you guys but I put that post about our escape up an hour ago. I'm, uh, not traveling with Jack anymore. This place killed him. We were just hiking up the ever increasing slope (I swear we're slogging up a fifty-five degree slope now, if this keeps up I'm going to need climbing gear) and we had stopped for a break. He'd been rambling on about how he'd been framed for the murders and how "They" had convinced everyone he was insane and that he was going to hunt "Them" down and make "Them" tell the truth . . . really crazy stuff but it's still possible the Fears were involved not just psychosis. But, we stopped for our break and he spotted a pack of cigarets and a lighter in the grass.

Well, he was overjoyed. Said that he hadn't been able to smoke since he was committed to Shady Lawn and he'd been dying for a cigaret. I tried to tell him that I didn't think it was a good idea to smoke cigarets that appeared out of thin air in a place like this but he didn't listen. Next thing I know he's taking his first drag in months and this voice booms from nowhere "Jack Dylan Simons. You have given in to temptation. You are UNWORTHY." and the ember of his cigaret raced down to the filter, went into his mouth and he . . . burned up. He went up like a freaking candle. The flames were hot enough that the gun he was carrying melted down, some of the bullets cooked off but fortunately they didn't hit me. Before I could even think about trying to put him out he was reduced to ash. There was no anger in the voice, no malice, no human emotion at all. Then, in the same neutral tone the voice said "James Phillip Carlson. You may take your supplies and continue your journey." I turned around and there was everything I had to leave behind at Shady Lawn packed carefully into my duffel bag. I shouted at the sky for a while demanding an explanation but the voice didn't return. What the hell kind of place is this that Jack probably being a murderer wasn't enough to make him unworthy but lighting up was a death sentence? Clearly I'm being judged by something, but for what and by what standard?

 Well, back to my hike. Hopefully the sooner I get where ever it is I'm supposed to go the sooner I get out of here in one piece and can get back to my rescue mission.