(MILES)
The sound of footsteps upstairs makes us both freeze. Adrenaline begins to course through me like a tsunami. They came in earlier than we thought they would. I nod to Arlo and we retreat to hide beside the alcoves. I press myself into the small area. I'm literally shaking but I'm so pumped for the fight. It's now or never. The moment of truth. I'm ready to die. I just hope to God that it isn't my time yet.
When the door at the top of the stairs opens, I hear a thud of boots on the steps. The blood is rushing to my head so fast that it's hard to hear. I grab the fishing pole, hoping that it does the job as I expected it to. The variables are too many so it is almost impossible to feel confident. Relying on Arlo also terrifies me because I'm not aware of his capabilities. We can't communicate by looking at each other. All in banking on are hopes that he has good instincts on when to strike.
