“I have friends who work in the park’s maintenance department. Kind of pathetic that the only work available to local Mayans is serving food or hauling trash in the city founded by their own ancestors.”

Dominique grabs the dashboard as Mick accelerates the truck down the bumpy back road. “You sure you know where you’re going?”

“I spent most of my childhood exploring Chichén Itza. I know this jungle like the back of my hand.”

The high beams reveal a dead end looming up ahead.

He smiles. “Of course, that was a long time ago.”

“Mick!” Dominique squeezes her eyes shut and hangs on as he veers off the road and drives straight through the jungle, sending the pickup slashing through heavy underbrush and foliage.

“Slow down! Are you trying to kill us?”

The vehicle swerves in and out of the dense thicket, somehow managing to avoid trees and rocks. They enter a heavily wooded area, the jungle canopy concealing the night sky.

Mick slams on the brakes. “End of the road.”

“You call that a road?”

He shuts off the engine.

“Mick, tell me again why—”

“Shh. Listen.”

The only sound she hears is the ticking of the truck’s engine. “What am I listening for?”

“Be patient.”

Gradually, the chirping of crickets comes to life around them, followed in turn by the rest of the jungle wildlife.

Dominique looks at Mick. His eyes are closed, a melancholy expression spreading across his angular face. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.”

“What are you thinking about?”

“My childhood.”

“A happy or sad memory?”

“One of the few happy ones. My mother used to take me on camping trips in these woods when I was very young. She taught me a lot about nature and the Yucatan, how the peninsula formed, its geology—all sorts of things. She was a great teacher. No matter what we did together, she always made it fun.”

Mick turns to her, his black pupils wide and glistening. “Did you know this entire area used to be underwater? Millions of years ago, the Yucatan Peninsula was at the bottom of a tropical sea, its surface covered with coral and plants and marine sediment. The geology of the seafloor was essentially one huge layer of solid limestone, and then—boom—this spaceship or whatever the hell it was, crash-landed on Earth. The impact fractured the limestone, creating two-thousand-foot tidal waves, firestorms, and an atmospheric layer of dust that stifled photosynthesis and wiped out most of the species on the planet.”

“Eventually the Yucatan Peninsula rose, becoming dry land. Rainwater ate through the cracks in the limestone, eroding the rock, carving out a vast subterranean labyrinth that stretches beneath the peninsula. My mother used to say that, below the surface, the Yucatan looks like a giant piece of Swiss cheese.”