Had the monster seen him?
Could those beady eyes see past the grass and garbage to recognize him as prey?
Should he fire? Should he wait?
Would the beast start howling?
Then it slowly pushed itself back to its feet. With all those plants and bones obstructing his view, O’Neil couldn’t tell if the monster was looking at him or not.
The Skull let out a long growl. Instead of diving at O’Neil, it squared up again with the other creature. They slammed against one another, and the sounds made O’Neil think of a pair of male lions ripping into each other for dominance over their pride.
O’Neil wanted to breathe a sigh of relief, but he was still holding his breath.
His brain was now screaming for oxygen. He didn’t want to inhale suddenly and bring all that animalistic ferocity toward him. As the corners of his vision started to turn black, his body going into panic mode, he focused back on BUD/S, when he had had to complete a fifty-meter underwater swim. It had been either pass or fail then. If you so much as bobbed up before you made it down the length of the pool and back, you lost your chance to join the teams immediately.
O’Neil had felt the same then as he did now.
Back then, he thought it would be the end of his life if he didn’t make the team. He had no backup plan outside of becoming a SEAL. Being a SEAL had been his life’s goal, and the stakes had seemed so high.
Now that breath could mean the end of his life.
If not the end of his life, then maybe the end of his brothers’ lives. They all relied on him keeping his composure. He would rather suffocate of his own volition than kill the rest of his team because he couldn’t fight his body’s natural urges.
But before he passed out, the Skulls seemed to finally settle their disagreement, pushing away from each other, then lurching from the vehicle. They headed eastward once more.
O’Neil wanted to gasp for air as he let his finger off the trigger. Instead, he did his best to breathe in gently, paranoid about giving those beasts a reason to turn back in his direction.
“Bravo, Alpha, you are clear,” the drone pilot said.
They crawled out from under the truck, pushing back through the grass and weeds, avoiding jostling the skeletons and bones. O’Neil caught his breath, lungs heaving as he brought his rifle back up to his shoulder, sweeping his sight lines.
With the assistance of the IR floodlights from the drone, he could see more Skulls silhouetted against the broken windows of buildings at the edge of the wide lawn. The monsters seemed to have been drawn out of hiding from the scuffle between the two beasts in front of the car.
He felt horribly exposed, standing in front of the truck. Had to remind himself that while he could see the lawn and buildings clearly thanks to his NVGs, the Skulls could not.
Or at least they weren’t acting like it yet.
He counted at least ten contacts, almost all of them lingering inside the buildings, peering out. They were difficult to see well, looking mostly like white blobs in the distance. A few meandered across the lawn to their north, disappearing into the trees.
Another three perched atop the roof of one of the dorms behind them. The beasts seemed to be scanning the lawn, waiting to pounce from the three-story building.
“Eagle Eyes, we’re seeing multiple contacts,” Reynolds whispered into his mic.
“Roger that,” the drone pilot called back, his tone measured. “I’m watching the lookers. Doesn’t seem like they noticed you yet.”
O’Neil still didn’t like that. The teams would have to cross the lawn, squeeze between the vehicles, and make it past the cathedral to reach their objective in the research buildings. All that without alerting the Skulls.
Reynolds signaled for O’Neil to take his team forward. O’Neil took a deep breath, then started across the lawn, doing his best to push through the tall grass, trying to look like nothing more than a passing shadow. His team followed in a single-file line.
A warm, humid wind rustled through the tall grass and weeds. O’Neil listened for any shrieks or howls, his muscles tensed, ready to respond.
Every step he took, he wondered if he would step on something beneath the leaves, hidden in the tall grass. Like fragments of a human skull or an aluminum can. A sound that would contrast harshly with the gentle breeze.
But he managed to navigate toward the vehicles parked in front of the cathedral without incident. His team settled down in the shadow of the sedans and trucks, once again falling into position to watch over Alpha’s approach.
Reynolds led his three men toward them, clinging to the shadows, quietly pushing through the weeds and grass. They walked at a hunch, barely disturbing the grass.
Normal humans might not even notice them, such was their skills on the teams. But O’Neil wasn’t sure if the Skulls’ predatorial instinct, despite their tunnel-visioned focus, would make them even more alert to every little movement in those blades of grass.
Alpha was nearly halfway to the vehicles when the drone pilot’s voice came back over the comms.
“Alpha, Bravo, be advised, you’ve got movers headed your way.” There was a pause, then the pilot spoke more urgently. “I’m counting twenty. From the north, filtering between the buildings. They’re coming fast.”
Alpha continued their pace, quietly sneaking toward O’Neil’s team. But already O’Neil could hear the rattle of bone against bone as the creatures hurtled toward their position. If he looked to the north, between the buildings and trees and vehicles, he could see the white forms of the Skulls in his NVGs.
“Alpha, you need to be faster,” the drone operator said. “Bravo, Alpha, be advised, more movers. Coming from the west this time. I’m seeing another ten, fifteen. Hard to tell between the trees.”
O’Neil couldn’t see past the cathedral to where the monsters were, but in his mind’s eye, he could picture them rushing toward his position. The two packs of beasts would converge on them in a minute. Maybe less.
He stood just enough to catch Reynolds’s attention. With a wave, he indicated the church. That was their only option, their only sanctuary from the violent madness that was sure to follow when the Skulls arrived.
With another gesture, he commanded his team to go. They rushed toward the tall wooden doors under the arches beneath the chapel’s looming belltower. O’Neil reached the door, Loeb hitting his position next.
O’Neil put his hand on Loeb’s shoulder, squeezing it, preparing for close-quarters combat and room clearing maneuvers. Tate and Van piled in close behind them.
With another squeeze of Loeb’s shoulder, O’Neil signaled for them to enter. Loeb pulled on the door handle. It didn’t budge. He tried the one next to it. Again, no luck.
The snapping and clicking of the Skulls grew louder. Shrieks rose into the night in a burgeoning clamor of hungry voices.
They tried the other set of double doors at the entrance. But again, the doors did not open.
Loeb threw his shoulders against the wood. Someone must have barricaded them from inside.
Reynolds stacked up beside Bravo with Stuart, Henderson, and McLean.
O’Neil signaled for both teams to head around the southern approach, under a walkway of smaller arches. Past those arches, he thought he saw movement. The first of the Skulls lurching their direction.
They rushed alongside the chapel, sticking close to the wall. O’Neil saw another door nearly halfway down the length of the chapel under the arched walkway. He hoped this one might not be blocked off from the inside. It might be their best option to get inside safely.
But then he noticed the sparkle of broken glass along the walk. Claw marks gouged the wood and stone around what used to be a stained-glass window.
Even better, he thought.