Opening Day 2008 for the Timber Rattlers is April 3. That is 164 days from today. This off-season, the countdown will be based on books. Each day between now and Opening Day 2008, I will pick a random book out of my library and excerpt a passage off the page number corresponding with the number of days remaining to the first pitch of the new season. I will try not to repeat a book during the countdown.
Today’s book is Morning Drive by R. Brian Berkey. Never heard of it? Rick was the first radio broadcaster for the West Michigan Whitecaps. He wrote this mystery novel and had it published through onefinebook.com, a currently inactive website. Rick writes about what he knows: Radio and Grand Rapids,
The excerpt from page 164 and it is just after the early morning murder of one of the suspects in another murder. The Macintosh in the passage below is the security guard in the building in which the second murder takes place. Macintosh is a security guard with a gun – an unloaded gun.
Clinging to the stairway wall like a spider, Macintosh carefully slipped down the steps toward the ground floor, pausing and listening for sounds every two or three steps. When he reached the windowless ground level exit door, he looked across the carpeted entrance and through the solid glass double doors leading to the first-floor hallway. Seeing the doors undamaged and presumably still locked, he felt a sense of relief realizing that whoever fired the shots was almost certainly still outside. His reprieve was momentary as he suddenly considered for the first time the basement level of the building directly below him, where a stairway lead to some equipment and utility rooms. If the gunman had entered the building after firing, he could be just two flights and less than 25 feet from him now. The same drive which sent him down the stairs in the first place kept him from racing back up, although part of his conscience screamed for him to do just that. After catching his breath and feeling his heart pounding through his powder blue company shirt, he leaned against the wall out of sight from the basement level and tried a curious approach to the dilemma.
“The police are on their way!” he screamed. “Throw down your gun!” Or I just might throw mine at you.
Put today’s entry into a baseball context.
No comments:
Post a Comment