The voice echoed, only part of the words registering, and none that could be pieced together into a coherent message.
Hantz’s voice, his angry voice.
Bryan Liddro found it preferable to Hantz’s condescending voice.
He jogged into the store room and felt a scratch on the heel of his hand.
The wristband from last night’s show.
Hantz’s eyes locked onto it like the eyes of some sort of robot from live action kaiju.
“You would have been in here 5 minutes ago if you weren’t deaf from all those metal shows.”
Bryan ignored the comment.
“What do you need?”
Hantz stepped down from the second shelf of stock, just a few feet from the sign that said Do Not Climb Shelves-Use Ladder.
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