It is her favorite time of day, a time for solitude. She contemplates a leisurely walk along the beach, then changes her mind. Pouring herself a glass of wine from an open bottle in the fridge, she kicks off her shoes and returns to the balcony. Placing the glass on a plastic table with the leather-bound journal, she lies down on the lounge chair, stretching as her body sinks into the soft cushion.

The pounding mantra of surf quickly works its magic. She sips the wine, closing her eyes, her thoughts again returning to her earlier encounter with Michael Gabriel.

Four Ahau, three Kankin. Dominique has not heard the words spoken since her early childhood.

Thoughts slip into a dream. She is back in the highlands of Guatemala, six years old, her maternal grandmother by her side. They are on their knees, toiling in the afternoon sun, working the onion crops. A cool breeze, the xocomil, blows in off Lake Atitlan. The child listens intently as the old woman’s voice rasps at her. “The calendar was handed down to us from our Olmec ancestors, its wisdom coming from our teacher, the great Kukulcan. Long before the Spanish invaded our land, the great teacher left us warnings of disastrous days ahead. Four Ahau, three Kankin, the last day of the Mayan calendar. Be wary of this day, my child. When the time comes, you must make the journey home, for the Popol Vuh says that it is only here that we can be restored to life.”

Dominique opens her eyes, staring at the black ocean. Alabaster crests of foam roll in beneath the partially obscured moonlight.

Four Ahau, three Kankin—December 21, 2012.

Humanity’s prophesied day of doom.

JOURNAL OF JULIUS GABRIEL

JOURNAL OF

JULIUS GABRIEL

August 24, 2000

My name is Professor Julius Gabriel. I am an archaeologist, a scientist who studies relics of the past to understand ancient cultures. I use evidence left to us from our ancestors to frame hypotheses and formulate theories. I sift through thousands of years of myths to find single veins of truth.

Throughout the ages, scientists like myself have learned the hard way that man’s fear often suppresses truth. Labeled heresy, its very breath is suffocated until Church and State, judge and jury are able to put aside their fears and accept what is real.

I am a scientist. I am not a politician. I am not interested in presenting years of evidence-backed theories to a lecture hall of self-appointed scholars so they can vote on what an acceptable truth about mankind’s fate may or may not be. The nature of truth has nothing to do with the democratic process. Like an investigative reporter, I am only interested in what really happened, and what may indeed happen. And if the truth turns out to be so unbelievable that I am labeled a heretic, then so be it.