Time here now: 8:50 PM 09/26/2019
Yesterday's Gone: Seasons 1-6 Complete Saga
Sean Platt, David W. Wright
Amazon Kindle version, Location 1145 of 39391
Book 1, Chapter 11
(excerpts for brevity transcribed by me)
When he reached the double doors that would normally be locked or tended by a doorman, he noticed that one of the two windows was shattered. Glass covered the red doormat inside. Brent put his hand on the gun tucked inside his jacket and stepped through the doorway. Glass crunched beneath his sneakers. The lobby desk was deserted, and the elevators were dead, which meant he had to take the stairs and begin his ascent.
The stairwell was dimly lit by emergency lights. His footsteps echoed off the walls. He didn't bother with stealth. He hoped the guy, if he were still around, would show himself so Brent wouldn't have to search the whole damned building.
Brent got his wish as he opened the door to the second-floor landing and came face to face with a pistol.
"Anyone see you come in here?"
Brent shook his head, "No, I don't think so. I didn't see anyone out there."
"Who sent you?" the guy asked, his voice turned nervous.
"Nobody, my name is Brent Foster, I live across the street.
"Brent Foster?" the guy said, his eyes darting up for a moment, accessing memory. "Brent Foster who works for the Tribune?"
Great, the moment he'd always hoped would never happen. Some wacko with a gun recognizing him as a reporter. Hope he's a fan.
"Yes," Brent said, reluctantly, bracing for reaction.
The guy lowered the gun, and a broad smile crossed his face.
"Stanley Byrd, but you can call me Stan. I'm a big fan of your work
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- posted by Kerry Burgess 9:08 PM Pacific Time Spokane Valley Washington USA Thursday 09/26/2019
