The officers exchanged darting glances and Grace saw that they didn't understand. "Yes," the taller of the two officers answered. "You need to come with us."

Grace took a step back. Every instinct said he was lying.

Before the decision had even fully formed in her mind, Grace turned into the tall reeds and ran. The underbrush caught on her clothing and the reeds scratched and obstructed her path but she pushed through.

"Stop! Stop where you are!" an officer commanded but she didn't hesitate.

A gunshot rang out and the shock of it dropped Grace to her knees but she kept going, clawing her way through the th.o.r.n.y undergrowth, moving with the desperation of a hunted animal.

From somewhere, a loud beeping sounded. "This way! This way!" the second officer called to the first.

"Grace!" Eric pushed his way through and dropped to his knees beside her. He pulled a sandwich-sized silver packet from his backpack and rapidly unfolded it to ten times its original size. "Get down," he insisted as he pushed Grace flat to the ground with one hand and tossed the silver sheet over her with the other. He lay down beside her, his arms draped over her upper back.

"I've lost the signal." The officers were no more than ten yards away.

"How could that be?" the other officer questioned.

The thunderous pounding of Grace's heart had to be audible - she couldn't believe it wasn't - but the officers began moving off in the opposite direction. "She was right around here when the signal stopped," she heard one of them say, but his voice was receding rather than coming closer.

The sun began beating on the sheet and Grace's skin became moist with sweat. She raised her head. Eric gently but firmly pressed it down again. It seemed to her that she lay there for a long time, steaming under the metallic sheet, frightened to even breathe, pressing her chest into the ground, hoping to quiet the sound of her drumming heartbeat.

Finally, Eric tapped her shoulder blade. "They're gone."

Grace rose on her elbows and began to pull off the sheet. Eric pulled it back over her head. "Keep that on or they'll be back," he warned. "They've got you satellite tracked."

"I don't understand. What's going on?"

"The sheet is blocking the signal. That's why you can't take it off."

"But why would anyone want to track me in the first place? You guys keep talking about a prophecy. Would you please tell me about it?"

"It's time you tell her, Eric." Grace peeked from under the sheet in the direction where a woman's voice had come from, just to Eric's right.

A tall woman of Native American descent stood before her, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. She was a striking woman in her forties, dressed in jeans, boots, and a denim vest. Beaded and turquoise bracelets adorned both of her arms. Her straight black hair was braided down her back. Grace was sure she'd seen this woman somewhere before. But where? Was she on TV, in the movies?

"Eutonah!" Grace breathed as the realization hit her. This was the well-known bar code tattoo resistance fighter, the famed mystic. "You're out of jail," Grace noted. She remembered reading about how, despite all the revelations regarding the bar code tattoo, Eutonah was still being held in jail for her activism against the tattoo.

"She's still in jail," Eric said. "But my mother's spirit is able to travel."

"Your mother?" Grace echoed, surprised.

As Eric nodded, Grace studied Eutonah more keenly and realized that there was something wavering and insubstantial about her presence. It reminded her of the holographic climbing walls. She thought of the holographic FACE-TO-FACE function on her phone. But this was no phoned-in hologram.

"I'll show you to a safe place," Eutonah said. "There we can talk more easily." She turned and spoke directly to Grace. "The time has come for you to understand that we have all been waiting for you. Before it's too late, I must tell you of The Bar Code Prophecy."

The red line subway was becoming increasingly crowded with morning commuters riding the underground rail between downtown Los Angeles and North Hollywood. "You can take that thing off now," Eric told Grace as they entered the subway car.

Grace peeked out from the sheet that she had been holding over her head and shoulders and began to fold it. "I don't understand why I need this," she said.

Eric pointed up. "Satellites. But they can't find you underground."

"I still don't get it," Grace insisted.

Finding no available seat, they stood among the other standing commuters. Grace searched the subway platform for Eutonah, who had left them, saying she'd be back shortly.

"What do you mean about satellites?" Grace asked.

But Eric's focus was on a young man with very dark skin dressed in a gray hooded sweatshirt and baggy jeans. "Hang on a minute," he said to Grace as he left her to weave through the crowd toward the young man. "I'll be right back."

Puzzled, Grace watched as Eric leaned close and whispered something to the hooded man before heading back in her direction.

"Who is that?" Grace asked once Eric had returned.

"Who is who?"

"That guy you just spoke to."

"I didn't speak to anyone."

Grace shot him a look of exasperation and Eric grinned. "I'm just messing with you," he admitted. He bent his head and leaned in close, speaking in the faintest whisper. "He's a Postman. He'll find Kayla and the others. Tell them we're safe."

"How did you know what he was?" Grace whispered back in surprise.

Eric only put his index finger to his lips. "Tell you later."

The subway rushed along its underground track and Grace wished she had some idea where they were headed. She had so many questions and not nearly enough answers. "Why didn't you tell me your mother is Eutonah?" she said.

"You never asked," Eric joked, but then grew serious. "As you know, my mother is still in jail, despite all the people calling for her release. When she became active in the resistance to the bar code tattoo, I went to live with my uncle, Russell Chaca. People call him Chief Russell. My dad died years ago. We all figured it would be better if everyone didn't realize I was Eutonah's son. It would keep me safer."

"I guess that means you have Cherokee background. I always heard you were Hopi."

"Dad's Hopi and some Irish. Mom's Cherokee. They met at Dartmouth."

"Tell me about the prophecy," Grace whispered.

"Not here," Eric replied softly.

They rode for several stops until Eric indicated with a nod that they should get off. The platform at their stop was empty and Grace followed Eric to the end. "What are you doing?" she gasped as Eric leaped off the end, rolling to a standing stop on the dirt ground with exceptional agility.

"Your turn," he said, smiling up at her.

He thinks I can't, Grace realized, interpreting the bravado in his grin as a challenge. Could she? Grace wasn't certain. She was used to landing on gym mats, not hard dirt. And she would be falling to a lower level.

Without further consideration, Grace ran a few steps before launching into a forward flip. When she planted her landing, her right ankle caved slightly from the uneven rocky dirt under her feet. Still, she was standing.

"Final level!" Eric praised her. "I told them you were going to be great at this."

"Great at what?" Grace asked, working hard not to beam with self-satisfied pride.

"You'll see. I'll show you later." Eric beckoned for her to follow him for several yards deeper into the tunnel.

"The door is right there." Eutonah's voice came from behind Grace.

"How did you -?" Grace cut herself short. The mysterious Eutonah could be anywhere, apparently.

Eric used a key to unlock a room no larger than a walk-in closet. When they were inside, he turned on a single bulb that glared from the ceiling and relocked the door. Eutonah opened a metal case in the corner and lifted out a helmet. Grace had never seen anything like it. It had a small keyboard and miniature computer screen in the front and wire wrapped around.

"A virtual reality helmet," Eutonah explained. She took a cord from the box and plugged the middle of it into the helmet's keyboard so that a cord of equal length extended from either side. "This extender allows all three of us to use it at once."

"Use it how?" Grace asked nervously, noticing that each end of the cord contained an elastic loop.

"Don't be frightened; there is no danger in this," Eutonah a.s.sured Grace as she punched numbers into the keyboard. Eutonah then settled on the ground in a cross-legged sitting position. Eric sat on her left and indicated with a gesture that Grace should be seated on Eutonah's right side. Grace followed Eric's example as he slipped the end of one half of the cord around his wrist and she did the same with the opposite end.

"Close your eyes and hold my hand," Eutonah instructed them. "You're going to feel like you have traveled, but you will really be here the whole time."

"Can't you do that already without this device?" Grace questioned.

"I'm able to travel," Eutonah agreed, "but neither of you can. At least not yet."

So many questions played on the tip of Grace's tongue, but before she could voice any of them, a tingling sensation overtook every inch of her skin. It went deeper into her body until she felt that her bones were vibrating and her skull itself quivered with an unsettling buzz.

Grace was about to cry out, to demand that Eutonah shut the helmet down, when all the shaking abruptly stopped.

She was no longer in the dingy subway closet but stood on an immense flat rock. A vivid sky pressed down on a vast expanse of orange-brown desert with areas of green shrubbery. Jagged mountains towered in the distance. It surprised her that although she was alone, she felt no fear. There was something strangely soothing in the utter silence of this majestic place.

"We are a thousand feet above sea level," Eutonah said.

Grace turned to find Eutonah and Eric behind her. "We are on sacred Hopi land," Eutonah continued. "The Hopi believe that this is the center of the universe."

This wasn't hard for Grace to accept. She could feel the power of the place coursing into her, energizing her spine, her limbs, even her mind. Never before had she experienced such a calm and centered sensation of complete well-being.

"This is Spider Rock, the great place of vision for the many. We're in Navajo territory, which rings the Hopi lands," Eutonah told them.

Grace felt as if she could touch the turquoise sky. Below her was an expanse of red rock desert ringed with boulders and mesas.

"Five years ago the leaders of many Native American nations met here for a secret tribunal," Eutonah went on. "I was among the delegation representing the Cherokee Nation. We came to discuss nothing less important than the future of this planet. The delegates from each tribe gathered their end-of-days prophecies to see what we could learn about what is to come."

"What did you conclude?" Eric asked.

"We found a lot of overlap in the different myths and predictions, and the Hopi seemed to have the most well-developed prophecies. Many of the events predicted - the coming of the white man, the loss of our lands, and the oil spill devastation back in 2010 - have come to pa.s.s already."

"Does that mean the end of the world is near?" Grace asked.

"It might be; we're not sure. So many of the prophecies have come to pa.s.s. The Hopi believe there will be great destruction on Earth, but that they will be carried from the destroyed Earth on wingless flying ships."

"What will happen to everyone else?" Grace asked.

"The Hopi have nine prophecies, all of which have been fulfilled. A tenth prophecy has been discovered. Very few have ever seen it."

"What does it say?" Eric asked.

"We call it The Bar Code Prophecy."

Grace viewed the bar code tattoo on her wrist. "This bar code?"

"Yes," Eutonah confirmed with a nod. "We call it that because we believe that the lines of destruction that the tenth Hopi prophecy refers to are the lines of the bar code tattoo."

"Why would you think that?" Eric inquired, his brows knit in concerned concentration.

Eutonah headed to the edge of the rock mesa on which they stood and laid on her stomach, beckoning for Grace and Eric to do the same. "See that opening cut in the mountain?" Eutonah said, pointing straight down. "Can you get down to it, Eric?"

"Sure I can," Eric answered confidently.

If anyone could, it was Eric - but a slip would be certain death. They should return with climbing line. Before Grace was able to express her concern, Eric was flat against the side of the mesa. She held her breath, not wanting to disturb his concentration in any way.

With cautious but deliberate movements, Eric made his way toward the opening in the mesa wall, sometimes clinging by his fingertips. Grace was torn between fascination and her desire to look away. A sidelong glance at Eutonah revealed that the woman's face had become a stone mask, reflecting nothing but absorption in Eric's progress.

When Grace dared to look at Eric again, he was withdrawing a stone tablet of about twelve by eight inches from the opening. He tucked it into the belted waist of his jeans and began his ascent.

Only when his hand appeared above the edge of the mesa did Grace feel it was safe for her to move. Scrambling to the edge, she clutched his wrist to a.s.sist his return. Before rising, he pa.s.sed the stone tablet up and she took it from him with her free hand. Eutonah laid on her stomach and helped pull Eric up and over to safety.

"Thanks," he said, lying on his back beside Grace and his mother.

"Here's why we think there is a tenth prophecy," Eutonah revealed, sitting with the tablet on her knee. Leaning in close to Eutonah, Grace saw a series of pictographs, straight lines, and stick figures. Below these were writings in English, as if someone had interpreted the meaning of the pictographs. Eutonah began to read the engraved writing: Our brother shall return. He will bring with him the innocent daughter fathered by the master of destruction. The heavenly bodies will know her every move by the lines of destruction the father has carved on her arm. She will flee him but the master's warriors will not stop until they pull the heavenly bodies to the earth and then ...

The tingling that had rung in Grace's skull returned full force. Her hands flew to her head and she squeezed her eyes shut. Eutonah's hand encircled Grace's wrist and she was traveling once more.

When Grace reopened her eyes, she was once again in the dank, harshly lit subway storage closet. Eutonah and Eric were with her. "The time ran out," Eutonah explained. "The helmet runs on a timer for our own protection."

"Do you know the rest of the prophecy?" Grace asked.

"What you heard is all anyone knows," Eutonah told them. "During the meeting of chieftains, we used the prophecies to lead us to the stone tablet hidden in the mesa wall. Several of the elders interpreted the pictographs, but the tablet was broken. Somewhere there is a missing piece."

"What do the elders think it means?" Eric asked.

"You are too young to remember this, but back in the year 2012, many people believed that the Mayan calendar had predicted the end of the world would arrive in December of that year," Eutonah said.

"Obviously it didn't," Eric pointed out.

"The date seemed to come and go without event, but there are many of us who believe it was the beginning of the end," Eutonah countered. "It was the year Jonathan Harriman invented the bar code tattoo and Global-1 first launched it in Asia. It took only another thirteen years for the tattoo to spread through Africa and then Europe before it got to America in 2025."

"So you're saying the Mayan prophecy did come to pa.s.s, after all?" Grace said.

"Yes. It just happened very quietly," Eutonah said with a nod. "But there are those among the chieftains who believe that we are in the final stages of the prophecy."

"What's supposed to happen?" Eric asked "No one knows, but much of what happens in the end will be up to the two of you."

"Us?!" Grace cried.