Gina led the way. The back window—our entrance—was at shoulder level. Pinecones crunched under my boots, so I lightened my steps.

We reached the window. Gina eyed the windowsill—no glass left, totally busted out—and swiftly lifted herself up and through the flaking wooden frame. I waited three beats and followed suit, heaving myself inside.

I landed quietly on the old floorboards. In front of me, Gina scanned the room, gun butt against her chest. The edges of the main sanctuary were entirely dark. The altar’s giant cross loomed above us from the back wall. The window we’d entered was one of two lighting the room—crisscrossed boards covered the others, save the one Zach and Roxy were crawling through on the west wall. Dust floated through the few beams of light we had.

Must and earthy mildew filled my nose. The now-distant and barely audible murmur of the chopper was the only thing I could hear besides my clipped breathing. Most of the pews were in scattered pieces, and old hymnals were strewn between them.

I followed Gina as she crept toward the altar. We knelt on either side of it, squinting through the haze. One, two, three, four… I counted my teammates as they shifted through the darkness, covering the perimeter of the sanctuary. Everyone was accounted for. Bryce’s behemoth frame stood beside one of the massive, cracked pillars. I couldn’t see his mouth moving, but I heard the gravel of his whisper in my comm: “Team B, say the word when all four corners are covered. Team A, stationary.”

Zach and Roxy scouted the west wall, and I could see Colin and Greta securing the darkness framing the main door. I glanced above, mentally repeating my next orders. You will be the first to head up.

The vaulted ceiling was so tall I couldn’t tell where the walls ended and it began.

“Team A, have you located the stairs?” Captain growled.

“Stairs near corner of altar and west wall, confirmed,” Gina whispered. My eyes darted to the narrow staircase.

“Ground floor secure,” Zach said softly in my ear.

“Right. Team A, visually secure the stairs. Then head up. If I’ve got your bearings right, there should be a balcony beyond that,” Bryce instructed.

There wasn’t much visibility up the staircase, but the next landing was clearly far up. Some of the slatted steps were cracked… some not there at all. Gina’s gaze caught mine, and she nodded to reassure me.

“Stairs clear. Light steps, Lyra,” Gina breathed over the comm, holding my eyes with hers.

“Team A, move up,” our captain grunted.

Gina instantly responded, stepping delicately as she ascended. I left several steps between us as we climbed. My eyes bounced between her feet and the steps emerging from the dark above us.

A step groaned under Gina’s left foot, and we instantly froze. She looked back at me, a warning to be careful. I nodded. Despite my care, the same step creaked under my weight, but it held.

Cobwebs latticed between the railing and the steps. I glanced at them for just a second, and I heard a step whine and then snap—crack—Gina’s right foot was falling, and she was going down with it.

I snatched the back of her belt and threw my weight back as hers pulled me forward, my muscles straining. The broken wooden step clattered on the floor below, echoing off the east wall.

“Freeze!” Bryce hissed in my ear.

Gina’s sharpened breaths were the only sounds that followed. I held on tightly to her belt; she gripped the railing, taking most of her weight off me. Her eyes closed in relief, but only briefly. She flashed a thanks to me with a glance. All remained still.

“Team A. Secure?” It was Zach.

“Secure,” Gina replied.

“Continue,” Bryce ordered.

Gina exhaled and turned back up the staircase. Shaking just slightly, I found my breath and followed her.

We covered a few more steps, accompanied by one or two more creaks but no more collapses, and found ourselves entering what looked like an attic—not a balcony. There were scattered wooden pillars, piles of old furniture, and a window in the wall far ahead. Another glowed behind us. The windows’ light haloed above us from the opposite ends of the room, relieving the gloom just a little. We moved off the stairs and carefully tested the wooden floor with our feet.

“Next floor confirmed, Captain,” Gina said quietly on her comm. “Not exactly a balcony. It’s an attic. Moving forward.”

Something pale moved in the corner of my eye, and I jumped. The tip of Gina’s gun darted toward it. We halted. It didn’t move again. I squinted, making out a sheet draped on an old table. Inches of dust covered every surface. It fluttered again in some unseen draft.

I nodded to Gina to move forward. False alarm.

We silently passed other tables and chairs, all enveloped in cobwebs. The attic was dead quiet. We peered around, our forms casting even more shadows in the extending darkness.

“Western stairwell visually confirmed,” Zach whispered.

“Zach, Roxy, take the stairs. Hopefully you can confirm a balcony,” Bryce said.

Gina and I planted our feet and held steady. The room was motionless, soundless. If there was a redbill here, it was the quietest I’d ever encountered, that was for sure.

Our eyes continued scanning the dark. I reached up and slowly picked a spiderweb off my chin.

“Balcony confirmed,” Zach murmured over the comm. “No movement.”

Gina stepped forward, and I looked behind us for any stirring. Still nothing.

She signaled me with her hand, and I followed her deeper into the thick beams and abandoned furniture.

Thwap, thwap.

The sound tore through the silence. Gina and I spun toward it. I planted my heels to secure my stance, the slick metal of the trigger under my finger.

A sudden, bright thrashing and whirling engulfed Gina’s head. I jerked back and adjusted my aim, trying to get a bead on the cloud flailing above Gina’s shoulders—until I heard a quick, flustered cooing.

“Pigeon,” Gina gasped. She swatted at the bird, and it tumbled down to the wooden floor then bobbed off, its feathers mussed, vanishing into the gloom.

I pulled the tip of my weapon back up and away from my teammate, my hand instinctively pressing against my breastbone. My heartbeat throbbed in my ears. Holy hell…

The two of us stayed there for a moment, catching our breath. In the resumed quiet, we peered around for any other movement.

Zach spoke again. “Moving to western balcony.”

After scouting the rest of the room, Gina gestured toward the staircase. “Attic clear,” she whispered into her comm.

I watched my feet as I followed her, to avoid kicking a table leg or brushing any dust-choked sheets. I glanced around in search of the staircase we’d come up, when Gina stopped abruptly. I nearly walked into her and quickly side-stepped. Then I saw why she’d stopped.

A figure stood directly before the staircase, blocking our only way out.

As I stared, I realized I could barely call it a figure—it was more a blanket of obscurity. No clear shape to the body. An empty space of jet black, only finding form against the slightly subtler grays of the room it stood in.

My eyes strained to trace the outlines of the figure’s shadowed face.

“Hello?” I called out, my voice reverberating through the attic, seeming to fill every jagged crack and crevice.

Silence. Stillness.