dk.solesurvivor-第32部分

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　　'Walked？'
　　'The　woman　I　met　wasn't　disfigured　or　crippled。　She　appeared　to　have　e　through　it　without　a　scar。'
　　Adamantly　shaking　her　head；　Barbara　said；　'She's　lying　to　you；　Joe。　Flat　out　lying。　She　wasn't　on　that　plane。　She's　playing　some　sort　of　sick　game。'
　　'I　believe　her。'
　　'Why？'
　　'Because　of　things　I've　seen。'
　　'What　things？'
　　'I　don't　think　I　should　tell　you。　Knowing　。。。　that　might　put　you　as　deep　in　the　hole　as　I　am。　I　don't　want　to　endanger　you　any　more　than　I　have　to。　Just　by　ing　here；　I　might　be　causing　you　trouble。'
　　After　a　silence；　she　said；　'You　must　have　seen　something　pretty　extraordinary　to　make　you　believe　in　a　survivor。'
　　'Stranger　than　you　can　imagine。'
　　'Still　。　。　。　I　don't　believe　it；'　she　said。
　　'Good。　That's　safer。'
　　They　had　driven　out　of　Colorado　Springs；　through　suburbs；　into　an　area　of　ranches；　travelling　into　increasingly　rural　territory。　To　the　east；　high　plains　dwindled　into　an　arid　flatness。　To　the　west；　the　land　rose　gradually　through　fields　and　woods　toward　foothills　half　screened　by　grey　mist。
　　He　said；　'You're　not　just　driving　aimlessly；　are　you？'
　　'If　you　want　to　fully　understand　what　I'm　going　to　tell　you；　it'll　help　to　see。'　She　glanced　away　from　the　road；　and　her　concern　for　him　was　evident　in　her　kind　eyes。　'Do　you　think　you　can　handle　it；　Joe？'
　　'We're　going　。　。　。　there。'
　　'Yes。　If　you　can　handle　it。'
　　Joe　closed　his　eyes　and　strove　to　suppress　a　welling　anxiety。　In　his　imagination；　he　could　hear　the　screaming　of　the　airliner's　engines。
　　The　crash　scene　was　thirty　to　forty　miles　south　and　slightly　west　of　Colorado　Springs。
　　Barbara　Christman　was　taking　him　to　the　meadow　where　the　747　had　shattered　like　a　vessel　of　glass。
　　'Only　if　you　can　handle　it；'　she　said　gently。
　　The　substance　of　his　heart　seemed　to　condense　even　further；　until　it　was　like　a　black　hole　in　his　chest。
　　The　Explorer　slowed。　She　was　going　to　pull　to　the　shoulder　of　the　highway。
　　Joe　opened　his　eyes。　Even　the　thunderhead…filtered　light　seemed　too　bright。　He　willed　himself　to　be　deaf　to　the　airplane…engine　roar　in　his　mind。
　　'No；'　he　said。　'Don't　stop。　Let's　go。　I'll　be　all　right。　I've　got　nothing　to　lose　now。'
　　
　　They　turned　off　the　state　highway　onto　an　oiled…gravel　road　and　soon　off　the　gravel　onto　a　dirt　lane　that　led　west　through　tall　poplars　with　vertical　branches　streaming　skyward　like　green　fire。　The　poplars　gave　way　to　tamarack　and　birches；　which　surrendered　the　ground　to　white　pines　as　the　lane　narrowed　and　the　woods　thickened。
　　Increasingly　pitted　and　rutted；　wandering　among　the　trees　as　though　weary　and　losing　its　way；　the　lane　finally　pulled　a　blanket　of　weeds　across　itself　and　curled　up　to　rest　under　a　canopy　of　evergreen　boughs。
　　Parking　and　switching　off　the　engine；　Barbara　said；　'We'll　walk　from　here。　It's　no　more　than　half　a　mile；　and　the　brush　isn't　especially　thick。'
　　Although　the　forest　was　not　as　dense　and　primeval　as　the　vast　stands　of　pine　and　spruce　and　fir　on　the　fog…robed　mountains　looming　to　the　west；　civilization　was　so　far　removed　that　the　soulful　hush　was　reminiscent　of　a　cathedral　between　services。　Broken　only　by　the　snapping　of　twigs　and　the　soft　crunch　of　dry　pine　needles　underfoot；　this　prayerful　silence　was；　for　Joe；　as　oppressive　as　the　imagined　roar　of　jet　engines　that　sometimes　shook　him　into　an　anxiety　attack。　It　was　a　stillness　full　of　eerie；　disturbing　expectation。
　　He　trailed　Barbara　between　columns　of　tall　trees；　under　green　vaults。　Even　in　the　late　morning；　the　shadows　were　as　deep　as　those　in　a　monastery　cloister。
　　The　air　was　crisp　with　the　aroma　of　pine。　Musty　with　the　scent　of　toadstools　and　natural　mulch。
　　Step　by　step；　a　chill　as　damp　as　ice　melt　seeped　from　his　bones　and　through　his　flesh；　then　out　of　his　brow；　his　scalp；　the　nape　of　his　neck；　the　curve　of　his　spine。　The　day　was　warm；　but　he　was　not。
　　Eventually　he　could　see　an　end　to　the　ranks　of　trees；　an　open　space　past　the　last　of　the　white　pines。　Though　the　forest　had　begun　to　seem　claustrophobic；　he　was　now　reluctant　to　forsake　the　crowding　greenery　for　the　revelation　that　lay　beyond。
　　Shivering；　he　followed　Barbara　through　the　last　trees　into　the　bottom　of　a　gently　rising　meadow。　The　clearing　was　three　hundred　yards　wide　from　north　to　south…and　twice　that　long　from　the　east；　where　they　had　entered　it；　to　the　wooded　crest　at　the　west　end。
　　The　wreckage　was　gone；　but　the　meadow　felt　haunted。
　　The　previous　winter's　melting　snow　and　the　heavy　spring　rains　had　spread　a　healing　poultice　of　grass　across　the　torn；　burnt　land。　The　grass　and　a　scattering　of　yellow　wildflowers；　however；　could　not　conceal　the　most　terrible　wound　in　the　earth：　a　ragged…edged；　ovate　depression　approximately　ninety　yards　by　sixty　yards。　This　enormous　crater　lay　uphill　from　them；　in　the　northwest　quadrant　of　the　meadow。
　　'Impact　point；'　Barbara　Christman　said。
　　They　set　out　side　by　side；　walking　toward　the　precise　place　where　three…quarters　of　a　million　pounds　had　e　screaming　out　of　the　night　sky　into　the　earth；　but　Joe　quickly　fell　behind　Barbara　and　then　came　to　a　stop　altogether。　His　soul　was　as　gouged　as　this　field；　ploughed　by　pain。
　　Barbara　returned　to　Joe　and；　without　a　word；　slipped　her　hand　into　his。　He　held　tightly　to　her；　and　they　set　out　again。
　　As　they　approached　the　impact　point；　he　saw　the　fire…blackened　trees　along　the　north　perimeter　of　the　forest；　which　had　served　as　backdrop　to　the　crash…scene　photograph　in　the　Post。　Some　pines　had　been　stripped　bare　of　needles　by　the　flames；　their　branches　were　charred　stubs。　A　score　of　seared　aspens；　as　brittle　as　charcoal；　imprinted　a　stark　geometry　on　the　dismal　sky。
　　They　stopped　at　the　eroded　rim　of　the　crater；　the　uneven　floor　below　them　was　as　deep　as　a　two…story　house　in　some　places。　Although　patches　of　grass　bristled　from　the　sloping　walls；　it　did　not　thrive　on　the　bottom　of　the　depression；　where　shattered　slabs　of　grey　stone　shown　through　a　thin　skim　of　dirt　and　brown　leaves　deposited　by　the　wind。
　　Barbara　said；　'It　hit　with　enough　force　to　blast　away　thousands　of　years　of　accumulated　soil　and　still　fracture　the　bedrock　beneath。'
　　Even　more　shaken　by　the　power　of　the　crash　than　he　had　expected　to　be；　Joe　turned　his　attention　to　the　sombre　sky　and　struggled　to　breathe。
　　An　eagle　appeared　out　of　the　mountain　mists　to　the　west；　flying　eastward　on　a　course　as　unwaveringly　straight　as　a　latitude　line　on　a　map。　Silhouetted　against　the　grey…white　overcast；　it　was　almost　as　dark　as　Poe's　raven；　but　as　it　passed　under　that　portion　of　sky　that　was　blue…black　with　a　still…brewing　storm；　it　appeared　to　grow　as　pale　as　a　spirit。
　　Joe　turned　to　watch　the　bird　as　it　passed　overhead　and　away。
　　'Flight　353；'　Barbara　said；　'was　tight　on　course　and　free　of　problems　when　it　passed　the　Goodland　navigational　beacon；　which　is　approximately　a　hundred　and　seventy　air　miles　east　of　Colorado　Springs。　By　the　time　it　ended　here；　it　was　twenty…eight　miles　off　course。'
　　
　　Encouraging　Joe　to　stay　with　her　on　a　slow　walk　around　the　crater　rim；　Barbara　Christman　summarized　the　known　details　of　the　doomed　747　from　its　takeoff　until　its　premature　descent。
　　Out　of　John　F。　Kennedy　International　Airport　in　New　York　City；　Flight　353；　bound　for　Los　Angeles；　ordinarily　would　have　followed　a　more　southerly　corridor　than　the　one　it　travelled　that　August　evening。　Due　to　thunderstorms　throughout　the　South　and　tornado　warnings　in　the　southern　Midwest；　another　route　was　considered。　More　important；　the　headwinds　on　the　northerly　corridor　were　considerably　less　severe　than　those　on　the　southern；　by　taking　the　path　of　least　resistance；　flight　time　and　fuel　consumption　could　be　substantially　reduced。　Consequently；　the　Nationwide　flight…route　planning　manager　assigned　the　aircraft　to　Jet　Route　146。
　　Departing　JFK　only　four　minutes　behind　schedule；　the　non…stop　to　LAX　sailed　high　over　northern　Pennsylvania；　Cleveland；　the　southern　curve　of　Lake　Erie；　and　southern　Michigan。　Routed　south　of　Chicago；　it　crossed　the　Mississippi　River　from　Illinois　to　Iowa　at　the　city　of　Davenport。　In　Nebraska；　passing　the　Lincoln　navigational　beacon；　Flight　353