"Miles and miles," he muttered, his voice a gravelly rasp. "It’s always miles and miles."
The distance between them and their quarry had shrunk from miles to yards in a heartbeat. From the tree line, a shape detached itself—a towering mass of elongated limbs and pale, translucent skin. It moved with a sickening fluidity, blurring the line between man and beast. Van Helsing - Miles and Miles ...
Should we focus the next chapter on the or follow their desperate escape through the pass? "Miles and miles," he muttered, his voice a gravelly rasp
"Is that... them?" Carl whispered, fumbling for a vial of holy water. "Miles and miles
"It’s him," Van Helsing corrected, drawing a silver-edged kukri. "And he’s tired of running."