Xibalba—the Underworld. I can feel the Black Road leading to the Underworld growing stronger. The Popol Vuh claims the Lords of the Underworld influenced evil on Earth. How’s that possible … unless the malevolent presence on Earth hasn’t always been here?

Mick opens his eyes.

What if it wasn’t always here? What if it arrived long ago, before the evolution of man? What if it’s been lying dormant, waiting for this radio transmission to awaken it?

The loudspeaker’s five o’clock buzz announcing dinner jars a distant memory. Mick imagines himself back on the Nazca desert, patrolling the flat plateau with his metal detector. The electric buzz of the metal detector has sent him digging in the soft yellow sand, his ailing father by his side.

In his mind’s eye, he unearths the iridium canister, removing the ancient map. Focusing on the red circle … marking the mysterious location in the Gulf of Mexico.

The Gulf of Mexico … the canister—made of iridium! His eyes widen in disbelief. “God dammit, Gabriel, how could you be so fucking blind!”

Mick races up the two flights of concrete steps to the third-floor mezzanine and therapy annex. He pushes past several residents and enters the computer room.

A middle-aged woman greets him. “Well, hello. My name’s Dorothy, and I’m—”

“I need to use one of your computers!”

She moves to her laptop. “And your name is?”

“Gabriel. Michael Gabriel. Look under Foletta.” Mick spots an open terminal. Without waiting, he takes a seat, then notices the voice-activation system is not working. Using the mouse, he activates the Internet connection.

“Now just wait one minute, Mr.Gabriel. We have rules here. You just can’t jump onto a computer. You have to have permission from your—”

Access Denied. Please Enter Password.

“I need a password, Dorothy. I’ll only be a minute. Could you give me your password, please—”

“No, Mr.Gabriel, no password. There are three residents ahead of you, and I’ll need to speak with your therapist. Then I can—”

Mick focuses on her identification badge: DOROTHY HIGGINS, #G45927. He begins typing in passwords.

“—schedule you for a future appointment. Are you listening to me, Mr.Gabriel? What are you doing? Hey, stop that—”

A dozen passwords fail. He focuses again on her name tag. “Dorothy, what a pretty name. Did your parents like the Wizard of Oz, Dorothy?”

Her stunned expression gives her away. Mick types in OZG45927.

Invalid Password.

“Stop this nonsense right now, Mr.Gabriel, or I’ll call for security.”

“The Wicked Witch, the Tin Man, Scarecrow … how about we ask the wizard.” He types in WIZG45927.

Connecting To Internet …

“That’s it, I’m calling security!”