Mick lies naked beneath the sheet, his right hand caressing the small of Dominique’s back, the girl’s head resting on his bandaged chest. He stares at the ceiling, his exhausted mind repeating Guardian’s words over and over like a mantra.

Xibalba Be will ascend on 4 Ahau, 3 Kankin. It can only be destroyed from within. Only a Hunahpu can enter. Only a Hunahpu can expel the evil from your garden …

Dominique stirs, rolling onto her side. Mick covers her with the sheet, then closes his eyes.

Come to me, Michael …

“Huh?” He shoots up in bed, his heart pounding. Disoriented, he looks around the cabin, a cold sweat breaking out on his back. It’s okay, it’s okay—it was just a dream …

Mick lies back, eyes wide-open, waiting for the demonic voice to return.

Stop it! You’re driving yourself insane. He smiles weakly. Eleven years in solitary and I’m finally losing my mind.

He closes his eyes.

Why do you fear me, Michael?

“Shit—” He springs to his feet like a nervous cat. Okay, stay calm. Go for a walk. Clear your head. He dresses quickly, then slips out of the cabin.

After twenty minutes, Mick finds his way to “Vultures’ Row,” an open-air balcony overlooking the flight deck. The night air is cool, the ocean breeze comforting. He covers his ears as a joint strike fighter is catapulted into the clear night sky.

Once more, his mind replays Guardian’s conversation. Only a Hunahpu can enter. Only a Hunahpu can expel the evil from your garden and save your species from annihilation.

I can feel you, Michael. You’re very close …

“What?”

Come to me, Michael. Don’t fear me. Come to your creator.

“Stop! Stop it!” Mick squeezes his eyes shut and grabs his head in his hands.

“Mick, are you okay?”

Come to me … father.

“Get the fuck out of my head!” Mick spins around, his eyes wide in fright.

Marvin Teperman shakes him by the shoulders. “Hey, are you all right?”

“Huh? Oh, shit. I-I don’t know. I think I’m going nuts.”

“You and the rest of the world. Couldn’t sleep, eh?”

“No. Marvin, the drone that landed in Chichén Itza, do you know exactly where it landed?”

The exobiologist removes a small tablet from his jacket pocket. “Hold on, it’s here somewhere. Let’s see, Chichén Itza. Yes, the drone landed in something called the Great Mayan Ball Court. Dead center, to be exact.”

Mick feels a chill run down his spine. “Dead center? You’re certain?”

“Yes. What’s wrong?”

“We need a chopper! Marvin, can you get us a chopper?”

“A chopper? What for?”

“I can’t explain it, I just need to get to Chichén Itza—now!”

Sanibel Island, West Coast of Florida

5:12 A.M.