Allie thought it would be more on the toxic gas cloud, and fire in the town of Eunice—clearly Mary’s hand at work—but instead it was something new. The town of Artesia, New Mexico, about seventy miles west of Eunice, had suffered a deadly tainting of the water supply. Being that Artesia was so close to Roswell, nut jobs were already coming out of the woodwork, insisting that it was aliens.

“It’s ghosts, not aliens,” Allie said. “People need to get their conspiracy theories straight.”

“Read the next part,” Clarence said, pointing to the bottom of the page.

Allie read on. Apparently the death count was relatively low . . . which, if this was Mary’s doing, didn’t make much sense . . . until Allie saw how many people had been hospitalized . . . and were still in comas. . . .

Allie dropped the newspaper on the table as if it were also tainted.

“My God! She’s making more skinjackers!”

Clarence took back the newspaper with his good hand and pondered the article, but it was clear he was pondering something else entirely. “I said I would never want to extinguish another soul,” he said, “but if there’s one spirit I’d be willing to wipe out of existence . . .”

He didn’t need to finish his thought for Allie to know who he meant. “Whatever the consequences?” asked Allie.

Clarence nodded. “Whatever the consequences.”

Allie took a deep breath. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

An hour later they were on a flight headed toward New Mexico and Mary Hightower.

PART SIX
Ruin Nation

Historical Interlude with Angry Gods and Insufficient Sunscreen

The living see only ruins. They see crumbling temples and a stepped pyramid rising out of a dense forest that, year by year, struggles to consume it. To the living, the place is ancient history, full of colorful custom, furious gods, and countless vendors selling trinkets—all very interesting, but irrelevant to a modern world. Still, the many touristts who come to the great Mayan city of Chichén Itzá can’t help but feel a sense of mystical presence within the ruins that transcends time and space. No one who has ever visited Chichén Itzá will ever forget they’ve been there, and those who wander the ball court, and the great field that surrounds the pyramid, aside from getting a nasty sunburn, can’t help but sense a spiritual connection to something unseen. They leave knowing they’ve had some inexplicable experience, never realizing that they have just crossed through a crowded, bustling city of seventeen thousand invisible souls.

CHAPTER 43
The City of Souls

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: 2 down

Hi, it’s Allie skinjacking. Milos and Moose are dead. Jill, are you there? We need those other names! Jix, I hope you made it to the City of Souls, and that you’re all okay. Tell Mikey and Nick hello. And be careful, all of you!

Allie