Maybe whoever was up in the sky really was trying to help them.
With the window already broken, they wouldn’t have to shatter the glass, drawing the attention of all those Skulls tearing toward them.
Another squeeze to Loeb’s shoulder, and together they climbed up into the window, then lowered themselves inside, immediately kneeling, rifles at their shoulder, surveying the pews and altar for movement.
He turned toward the entrance as the rest of his team and Alpha threw themselves inside. The SEALs spread silently into combat intervals.
As O’Neil scoped out their surroundings, he saw the front doors had indeed been barricaded with pews. No question why they hadn’t been able to bust through them.
The side doors, too, had been bolstered with pews.
Already, outside, the clatter of claws against the sidewalk grew louder, the noise ricocheting through the broken window and up into the tall, arched ceilings of the massive nave.
Streaks of dark stains dragged up the stairs to the chancel surrounding the altar. Bones were scattered around the altar, along with tattered pieces of cloth. Like all the other bones O’Neil had seen tonight, these had been picked clean of flesh.
But that was no indication whether this person had been devoured months ago or in the past few days. The murderous creatures responsible might still be skulking around inside the chapel.
“Alpha, Bravo, movers are outside the chapel,” the drone pilot reported. “Both packs are converging.”
The shrieks and clatter of the beasts rushing past the chapel was enough to tell O’Neil more than the drone pilot could tell him. Those creatures were whipped up into a frenzy. No telling what had set them off—but he couldn’t help of thinking what was toward their west.
Their destination. Their targets. He hoped that the people the troop had been sent to rescue hadn’t already become victims like the others who had sought refuge in this chapel.
He squeezed Loeb’s shoulder again to signal for the man to advance. He stuck close behind O’Neil, pressing his rifle squarely against his own. Across the way, Reynolds moved with Stuart, Henderson, and McLean. The four of them watched those approaches that O’Neil couldn’t see from his position. Tate and Van shadowed them, rifles sweeping past the towering columns behind them, ensuring no hidden monster took them by surprise.
As O’Neil and Loeb neared the chancel, the sweeping pipes of the organ soared above them, looking almost ghastly through the NVGs, like the teams were inside the ribcage of some giant beast. He swept his aim over the toppled lectern and the fallen candlestands.
The din of the monsters outside continued to echo in through the broken window.
“Alpha, Bravo, movers are meeting at the truck. Seems like a scuffle.”
“Are they clearing out?” Reynolds whispered over the comms, paused just outside at the north transept.
“Negative. They’re fighting and howling.”
That meant the teams weren’t escaping the chapel out the front door. Likely not going to make it out the window where they had entered, either, without risking being seen.
The longer the Skulls held their gruesome party, the more other monsters would be attracted to the commotion. Unless those beasts moved on quickly, the situation risked growing unsustainable, quickly growing into a horde of angry Skulls whipped into a frenzy.
O’Neil feared that would mean they would have to scrap the mission because Alpha and Bravo would get stuck inside the chapel until the situation improved.
But the evidence was clear: the chapel wasn’t impenetrable.
They were better off getting to their targets, reconnecting with Delta and Charlie, and reaching their exfil point as planned.
Reynolds gestured toward O’Neil to clear the next room. Apparently, the chief had made the same calculations.
O’Neil lined up behind Loeb with the next door. Sucked in a breath, ready to make the next move. For a second he just listened, hoping that if there was a beast in the space beyond that door, he would hear it scratching across the floor or at the wall. Anything to let him know what he was about to walk into.
But he had found far too often when clearing a room—whether he was after Skulls or Taliban fighters—the enemy was usually frustratingly quiet.
He squeezed Loeb’s shoulder.
The operator pushed open the door to a corridor which O’Neil scanned with his rifle. Saw nothing but three more doors, one on the right, two on the left, and the hall cut to the right about twenty yards ahead.
He squeezed Loeb’s shoulder again, getting him to move to the next doorway. Shot a hand signal to Tate and Van to clear the room on their left. As they did, Loeb pushed open the door the right. O’Neil swept the darkness.
He saw what appeared to be a wide cabinet with shallow drawers. Crosses and a stole were lying on top of it. Crumpled linens and a chalice were in a pile on the floor. But no creatures.
Back in the hall, they met up with Tate and Van. The duo signaled that their room had been clear, too.
O’Neil could still hear the calls of the beasts outside and their talons and claws scratching over the pavement. Sounded like some were drawing dangerously close to the chapel.
The drone pilot’s voice came over the comms again. “More movers, this time from the northwest. Maybe five. Ten or so creatures are dispersing from the scene. Two sniffing around the entrance to the church.”
O’Neil and Loeb moved to clear the last room on their left, with Van and Tate watching the hall. The doorway had long scratches near the handle and across the doorframe. O’Neil prepared himself to take out the monster responsible for scarring the wood.
Soon as Loeb pushed open the door to a bathroom, O’Neil caught a dark silhouette in the darkness. The stink of rotting meat hit him with an almost palpable force. His heart caught for a second, his instincts kicking into overdrive. He had been through so many scenarios like this in close-quarter combat, CQC, training. Scenario after scenario had been thrown at him where he was forced to react within the second, judging whether a target was a hostile contact or an innocent.
Even now, he fought back against the rush of adrenaline, unwilling to fire if he didn’t have to. The shape was situated alongside the toilet, almost as if the person had fallen around it. He took a step forward, just enough to get a better look at the person. He made out the form of woman, the front of her t-shirt and jeans stained dark. He aimed his rifle at her, ready to fire if she decided to stand and attack.
But she had a gaping hole where her throat had been torn.
No doubt the work of a Skull.
She wouldn’t be getting up any time soon.
All around her, the floor was stained dark. Her bones appeared to be pressing up against her skin, starting to push at her joints and the tips of her fingers.
O’Neil lowered his rifle slightly. Looked like she had been attacked by a Skull, then retreated here to die as the infection took hold of her body.
This body couldn’t be more than a couple days old.
O’Neil and Loeb backed out of the room.
Reynolds was waiting with McLean, Stuart, and Henderson at the doorway where O’Neil had entered the hall.
O’Neil signaled to them that the bathroom was clear, then started toward where the hall curved to the right. He hoped that would finally lead to their exit, their safe passage out of the chapel. And once they made it out, they just had a short advance until they reached the research center and their targets.
He would be only too glad to put this chapel and the rest of the campus those beasts had taken over behind him.
Together, he and Loeb swept past the corner in the hall.
Just as he had hoped, an exit sign hung above a wooden door barricaded by a couple of chairs.