TWENTY-FOURThe Zone was packed like Sandie had never seen it before, standing-room only, almost claustrophobic. The fire marshal would have crapped himself to imagine the kind of catastrophe that would result if anything actually did go up in flames. She hoped the drinks were distributed sparingly.
John broke away from her side immediately and made for the cracked linoleum behind the scenes. She let him go. No, he wasn’t self-sufficient, but he could probably manage to unpack his instrument, find a prop microphone, and get back out into the lounge without causing any problems. Or any fires. And besides, Sandie still desperately needed time to get her head in order.
She skirted around the edge of the room, looking for an unoccupied seat, even though she was halfway planning to step outsid
