Crandal stood in the grass and looked at the two graves at his feet and felt the tears streaming down his cheeks. He was nine, and now he was alone. He had managed to make a couple of stones for the heads of the graves, but he knew they were not very good, the names being only scratched on the surface of them with an old, broken chisel that his father had owned. Now, it was under his father's stone, the only tool that he had managed to keep from the ones who had made the graves necessary. This was the start of Crandal's journey to safety. Many miles and many days would follow. On the way, Crandal would meet others who would need to make the same trip for the same reasons, to escape with their lives. The goal was Jerston, a place that promised that safety. So read and enjoy their journey to Jerston, and, hopefully, safety on Josiah 's mountain
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