dk.coldfire-第39部分

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lack　and　billowy；　devouring　everything　over　which　it　rolled。　Smoke。　He　hadn't　instantly　realized　it　was　smoke　because　it　was　so　thick　that　it　appeared　to　have　the　substance　of　a　wall　of　oil　or　mud。　
　Death　by　suffocation；　or　worse；　lay　behind　them。　They　would　have　to　go　forward　in　spite　of　the　fire　ahead。　Flames　licked　around　the　torn　edge　of　fuselage　on　the　starboard　side；　reaching　well　into　the　cabin；　fanning　across　more　than　half　the　diameter　of　the　sliced…open　aircraft。　
　But　they　should　be　able　to　exit　toward　the　port　side；　where　no　fire　was　yet　visible。　
　〃Quick；〃　he　said；　turning　to　Christine　and　Casey　as　they　came　out　of　row　sixteen。　〃Forward；　fast　as　you　can；　go；　go！〃　However；　other　passengers　from　the　first　six　rows　of　the　economy　section　were　in　the　aisle　ahead　of　them。　Everyone　was　trying　to　get　out　fast。　A　valiant　young　flight　attendant　was　doing　what　she　could　to　help；　but　progress　was　not　easy。　The　aisle　was　littered　with　carry…on　luggage；　purses；　paperback　books；　and　other　items　that　had　fallen　out　of　the　overhead　storage　partments；　and　within　a　few　shuffling　steps；　Jim's　feet　had　bee　entangled　in　debris。　
　The　churning　smoke　reached　them　from　behind；　enfolded　them；　so　pungent　that　his　eyes　teared　at　once。　He　not　only　choked　on　the　first　whiff　of　fumes　but　gagged　with　revulsion；　and　he　did　not　want　to　think　about　what　might　be　burning　behind　him　in　addition　to　upholstery；　foam　seat　cushions；　carpet；　and　other　elements　of　the　aircraft's　interior　decor。　
　As　the　thick　oily　cloud　poured　past　him　and　engulfed　the　forward　section；　the　passengers　ahead　began　to　vanish。　They　appeared　to　be　stepping　through　the　folds　of　a　black　velvet　curtain。　
　Before　visibility　dropped　to　a　couple　of　inches；　Jim　let　go　of　Holly　and　clutched　Christine's　shoulder。　〃Let　me　take　her；〃　he　said；　and　scooped　Casey　into　his　arms。　
　A　paper　bag　from　an　LAX　giftshop　was　in　the　aisle　at　his　feet。　It　had　burst　open　as　people　tramped　across　it。　He　saw　a　white　T…shirt…I　LovE　L。A：　with　pink　and　peach　and　pale…green　palm　trees。　
　He　snatched　up　the　shirt　and　pushed　it　into　Casey's　small　hands。　
　Coughing；　as　was　everyone　around　him；　he　said；　〃Hold　it　over　your　face；　honey；　breathe　through　it！〃　Then　he　was　blind。　The　foul　cloud　around　him　was　so　dark　that　he　could　not　even　see　the　child　he　was　carrying。　Indeed；　he　could　not　actually　perceive　the　churning　currents　of　the　cloud　itself　The　blackness　was　deeper　than　what　he　saw　when　he　closed　his　eyes；　for　behind　his　lids　pinpoint　bursts　of　color　formed　ghostly　patterns　that　lit　his　inner　world。　
　They　were　maybe　twenty　feet　from　the　open　end　of　the　crash…severed　fuselage。　He　was　not　in　danger　of　getting　lost；　for　the　aisle　was　the　only　route　he　could　follow。　
　He　tried　not　to　breathe。　He　could　hold　his　breath　for　a　minute；　anyway；　which　ought　to　be　long　enough。　The　only　problem　was　that　he　had　already　inhaled　some　of　the　bitter　smoke；　and　it　was　caustic；　burning　his　throat　as　if　he　had　swallowed　acid。　His　lungs　heaved　and　his　esophagus　spasmed；　forcing　him　to　cough；　and　every　cough　ended　in　an　involuntary　though　thankfully　shallow　inhalation。　
　Probably　less　than　fifteen　feet　to　go。　
　He　wanted　to　scream　at　the　people　in　front　of　him：　move；　damn　you；　move！　He　knew　they　were　stumbling　forward　as　fast　as　they　could；　every　bit　as　eager　to　get　out　as　he　was；　but　he　wanted　to　shout　at　them　anyway；　felt　a　shriek　of　rage　building　in　him；　and　he　realized　he　was　teetering　on　the　brink　of　hysteria。　
　He　stepped　on　several　small；　cylindrical　objects；　floundering　like　a　man　walking　on　marbles。　But　he　kept　his　balance。　
　Casey　was　wracked　by　violent　coughs。　He　could　not　hear　her；　but　holding　her　against　his　chest；　he　could　feel　each　twitch　and　flex　and　contraction　of　her　small　body　as　she　struggled　desperately　to　draw　half　filtered　breaths　through　the　I　LovE　L。A。　shirt。　
　Less　than　a　minute　had　passed　since　he　had　started　forward；　maybe　only　thirty　seconds　since　he　had　scooped　up　the　girl。　But　it　seemed　like　a　long　journey　down　an　endless　tunnel。　
　Although　fear　and　fury　had　thrown　his　mind　into　a　turmoil；　he　was　thinking　clearly　enough　to　remember　reading　somewhere　that　smoke　rose　in　a　burning　room　and　hung　near　the　ceiling。　If　they　didn't　reach　safety　within　a　few　seconds；　he　would　have　to　drop　to　the　deck　and　crawl　in　the　hope　that　he　would　escape　the　toxic　gases　and　find　at　least　marginally　cleaner　air　down　there。　
　Sudden　heat　coalesced　around　him。　
　He　imagined　himself　stepping　into　a　furnace；　his　skin　peeling　off　in　an　instant；　flesh　blistering　and　smoking。　His　heart　already　thudded　like　a　live　thing　throwing　itself　against　the　bars　of　a　cage；　but　it　began　to　beat　harder；　faster。　
　Certain　that　they　had　to　be　within　a　few　steps　of　the　hole　in　the　fusalage　that　he　had　glimpsed　earlier；　Jim　opened　his　eyes；　which　stung　and　watered　copiously。　Perfect　blackness　had　given　way　to　a　charcoal…gray　swirl　of　fumes　through　which　throbbed　blood…red　pulses　of　light。　The　pulses　were　flames　shrouded　by　smoke　and　seen　only　as　reflections　bounding　on　millions　of　swirling　particles　of　ash。　At　any　moment　the　fire　could　burst　upon　him　from　out　of　the　smoke　and　sear　him　to　the　bone。　
　He　was　not　going　to　make　it。　
　No　breathable　air。　
　Fire　seeking　him　on　all　sides。　
　He　was　going　to　ignite。　Burn　like　a　living　tallow　candle。　In　a　vision　sparked　by　terror　rather　than　by　a　higher　power；　he　saw　himself　dropping　to　his　knees　in　defeat。　The　child　in　his　arms。　Fusing　with　her　in　a　melting　inferno。　。　。　
　A　sudden　wind　pulled　at　him。　The　smoke　was　sucked　away　toward　his　left。　
　He　saw　daylight；　cool　and　gray　and　easily　differentiated　from　the　deadly　glow　of　burning　jet　fuel。　
　Propelled　by　a　gruesome　image　of　himself　and　the　child　fried　by　a　flash　fire　on　the　very　brink　of　safety；　he　threw　himself　toward　the　grayness　and　fell　out　of　the　airliner。　No　portable　stairs　were　waiting；　of　course；　no　emergency　chute；　just　bare　earth。　
　Fortunately　a　crop　had　recently　been　harvested；　and　the　stubble　had　been　plowed　under　for　mulch。　The　newly　tilled　earth　was　hard　enough　to　knock　the　wind　out　of　him　but　far　too　soft　to　break　his　bones。　
　He　clung　fiercely　to　Casey；　gasping　for　breath。　He　rolled　onto　his　knees；　got　up；　still　holding　her　in　his　arms；　and　staggered　out　of　the　corona　of　heat　that　radiated　from　the　blazing　plane。　
　Some　of　the　survivors　were　running　away；　as　if　they　thought　the　DC…10　had　been　loaded　with　dynamite　and　was　going　to　blow　half　the　state　of　Iowa　to　smithereens　any　second　now。　Others　were　wandering　aimlessly　in　shock。　Still　others　were　lying　on　the　ground：　some　too　stunned　to　go　another　inch；　some　injured；　and　perhaps　some　of　them　were　dead。　
　Grateful　for　the　clean　air；　coughing　out　sour　fumes　from　his　soiled　lungs；　Jim　looked　for　Christine　Dubrovek　among　the　people　in　the　field。　
　He　turned　this　way　and　that；　calling　her　name；　but　he　couldn't　see　her。　
　He　began　to　think　that　she　had　perished　in　the　airplane；　that　he　might　not　have　been　treading　over　only　passengers'　possessions　in　the　port　aisle　but　also　over　a　couple　of　the　passengers　themselves。　
　Perhaps　sensing　what　Jim　was　thinking；　Casey　let　the　palm　tree　decorated　T…shirt　fall　from　her　grasp。　Clinging　to　him；　coughing　out　the　last　of　the　smoke；　she　began　to　ask　for　her　mother　in　a　fearful　tone　of　voice　that　indicated　she　expected　the　worst。　
　A　burgeoning　sense　of　triumph　had　taken　hold　of　him。　But　now　a　new　fear　rattled　in　him　like　ice　cubes　in　a　tall　glass。　Suddenly　the　warm　August　sun　over　the　Iowa　field　and　the　waves　of　heat　pouring　off　the　DC…10　did　not　touch　him；　and　he　felt　as　though　he　was　standing　on　an　arctic　plain。　
　〃Steve？〃　At　first　he　did　not　react　to　the　name。　
　〃Steve？〃　Then　he　remembered　that　he　had　been　Steve　Harkman　to　her…which　she　and　her　husband　and　the　real　Steve　Harkman　would　probably　puzzle　about　for　the　rest　of　their　lives…and　he　turned　toward　the　voice。　Christine　was　there；　stumbling　through　the　freshly　tilled　earth；　her　face　and　clothes　stained　from　the　oily　smoke；　shoeless；　arms　out　to　receive　her　little　girl。　
　Jim　gave　the　child　to　her。　
　Mother　and　daughter　hugged　each　other　fiercely。　
　Weeping；　looking　across　Casey's　shoulder　at　Jim；　Christine　said；　〃Thank　you；