The major shrugs. ‘Honestly, sir, I don’t know. Jacob’s mind is incredibly focused, giving him direct access to the clue line, better than any viewer I’ve ever worked with. Everything was fine, then he just blacked out.’

Dominique pushes her way to the major, poking her index finger against his chest. ‘Whatever you did to him—’

‘Ma’am, I swear … it wasn’t me. Jacob’s doing this himself.’

‘Blood pressure’s good,’ the doctor calls out. ‘Pulse is strong, but very slow. He seems to be in some kind of transcendental state. Let’s everyone try to stay calm and give him a few minutes.’

Father?

Who’s out there?

It’s Jacob. Your son.

Foul beast, go away! Think you can fool me with your—

Father, please, it’s really me. It’s Jacob. Jacob Gabriel. Father—

Jacob? Jacob, is that really you? I’ve dreamed of you, son, but … but is this real? Is it really happening?

I’ve dreamed of it, too. And it’s happening, Father, it’s real.

But how? How is it we can communicate?

Thoughts are energy. We’re both Hunahpu. We share similar frequencies. Father, where are you?

I don’t know. I’m not even sure I exist. I have no physical form, but somehow I can think, and I can feel emotions. It’s as if I exist in a vacuum of energy, only I can’t escape.

Something’s out there, isn’t it? Something’s frightening you. It’s as if I can taste your fear. Father, what is it?

It’s the Abomination … I can feel its presence. It’s like ice, hovering in the periphery. It circles me like the shadow of death, always waiting for me to drop my defenses.

But what is it?

A presence of pure evil. It wants to feast on my soul.

Tell me what to do! How can I help?

You have helped, son, more than you’ll ever know. I’ve been so lost, drowning in loneliness and despair. Your thought energy … it’s like a lighthouse beacon to my soul. You’ve strengthened me, you’ve given me hope. I know now that I haven’t been abandoned, that I’m not alone. You’ve given me a newfound sense of being.

Father, there’s so much I need to ask you. The Mayan Creation Myth … is it true? Am I really the son of One Hunahpu? Is it really possible for me and my brother to travel to Xibalba? Can you be … resurrected?

There’s no easy answer to that. There’s so much I need to tell you, and I want to, I have to, but it’s dangerous. The effort to communicate weakens me, and the Abomination hovers … waiting for me to lower my guard. Still, I must try, there’s so much at stake. Jacob, how old are you now?

Seven.

My God …

Father?