The unmarked, decussating paths would have been confusing to anyone but a 
native. Hackworth had never been here before. He had gotten the coordinates 
from the second fortune cookie in Kidnapper's glove compartment, which was much 
less cryptic than the first had been. He had no way to
tell whether he was really going anywhere. His faith did not begin to waver 
until evening approached, the eternal clouds changed from silver to dark gray, 
and he noticed that the chevaline was taking them higher and toward less 
densely populated ground.