Jacob runs to the base of the eastern wall and drops his sword. ‘Mother, jump.’

She looks down and jumps, her son catching her in both arms.

‘You okay?’

She nods, struggling to catch her breath.

Jacob senses the three warriors hurrying down the stairwell. ‘Go get the skull.’

She shakes her head. ‘I can’t.’

‘It’s not Mick’s head, mother. Now get it—quickly.’

She hurries off, ignoring the moans of her son’s dying victims, as she steps over severed body parts.

Jacob turns to face his remaining enemies, finishing them off with a dozen quick slashes of his sizzling sword.

Dominique returns with the skull. It is elongated, the face bruised and bleeding, but it is not Michael Gabriel.

It is the face of a child.

Disgusted, Jacob dropkicks it at the western goal. The skull sails through the vertical hoop, the successful shot triggering a hidden mechanism within the goal.

A wave of nausea returns as the open jowls of the serpent’s second mouth inhales Jacob and his mother into its vortex, transporting them into another realm.

Opening their eyes, they find themselves standing at the base of a narrow chasm, which cuts a winding passage through an imposing jagged mountainside.

Grabbing his mother by her arm, Jacob leads her down the Dark Road to Xibalba.

39

‘Jake, where are we?’

‘The Mayans called this Xibalba Be—the Black Road to the Underworld. I suspect we’re still on Earth, somewhere underground.’

Slipping the blade of his sword between his belt and exoskeleton, he takes Dominique by the hand and leads her into the ravine. The eight-foot-wide passage snakes between the towering vertical cliff walls, the mountain faces so straight and high they nearly obliterate the lavalike scarlet ceiling percolating above their heads.

Whiffs of dense smoke cause the shadows to dance. The gray limestone rock face drips with heavy humidity. The lead-colored soil is as moist as wet sand, causing their feet to sink deeper with each step. A high-pitched wind whistles through the ravine, depositing a fine gray mist on their exposed faces and environmental suits.

Jacob pauses. Looks up.

The sound of fluttering wings echoes through the chasm.

Dominique tightens her grip on his hand. Points ahead.

Seated on the ground, its back against the canyon wall, is a humanoid.

It is a transhuman—a female. Her shaved, elongated skull sports a jaguar-hide tattoo that serves as hair. She is naked, save for a thin, tattered cloth that barely covers her exquisite torso. Her right side, exposed to the wind, is slick with an oily gray residue.

The woman is rocking back and forth, her dark, frightened eyes purplish red from crying.

They approach, Jacob’s hand on the hilt of his sword.

Dominique kneels by the woman, her motherly instincts taking over.

‘Mother, don’t!’ He grabs her arm, dragging her back.

‘Jake, have some compassion. Can’t you see she’s terrified?’