Muffled footsteps

The waiting stretched on. The only noise came from the distant bay, gulls crying faintly above the crashing tide. Harper’s heartbeat pounded in his ears, louder than the whispers of nature surrounding him. Then, faintly, came something else — muffled footsteps, deliberate and close. The scrape of boots echoed faintly on concrete, followed by low muttering voices. Harper’s eyes flicked toward Pete, who was frozen, listening. Something was moving inside.
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