按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
； and a lot of them are going to walk out of it unhurt。 Now； for God's sake； e on。〃
He reached for the door handle。
〃Wait。 You've got to tell the pilot。〃
He shook his head。 〃It wouldn't help。〃
〃But maybe there's something he can do； stop it from happening。〃
〃He wouldn't believe me； and even if he did。 。 。 I don't know what to tell him。 We're going down； yeah； but I don't know why。 Maybe a mid…air collision； maybe structural failure； maybe there's a bomb aboard…it could be anything。〃
〃But you're a psychic； you must be able to see more details if you try。〃
〃If you believe I'm a psychic； you know less about me than you think you do。〃
〃You've got to try。〃
〃Oh； lady； I'd try； I'd try like a sonofabitch if it would do any good。
But it won't。〃
Terror and curiosity fought for control of her face。 〃If you're not a psychic…what are you？〃 〃A tool。〃
〃Tool？〃 〃Someone or something uses me。〃
The DC…10 shuddered again。 They froze； but the aircraft did not take a sudden plunge。 It went on as before； its three big engines droning。
Just more turbulence。
She grabbed his arm。 〃You can't let all those people die！〃 A rope of guilt constricted his chest and knotted his stomach at the implication that the deaths of the others aboard would somehow be his fault。
He said； 〃I'm here to save the woman and the girl； no one else。〃
〃That's horrible。〃
Opening the lavatory door； he said； 〃I don't like it any more than you do； but that's the way it is。〃
She did not let go of his arm but jerked at it angrily。 Her green eyes were haunted； probably with her own visions of battered bodies strewn across the earth among smoking chunks of wreckage。 She repeated herself； whispering fiercely this time： 〃You can't let all those people die。〃
Impatiently； he said； 〃Either e with me； or die with the rest of them。〃
He stepped out of the lavatory； and she followed him； but he did not know whether she was going to acpany him back to his section。
He hoped to God she would。 He really could not be held responsible for all the other people who would perish； because they would have died even if he had not e aboard； that was their fate； and he had not been sent to alter their destinies。 He could not save the whole world； and he had to rely on the wisdom of whatever higher power was guiding him。 But he most definitely would be responsible for Holly Thorne's death； because she would never have taken the flight if； unwittingly； he had not led her onto it。
As he moved forward along the port aisle； he glanced to his left at the portholes and clear blue sky beyond。 He had a too vivid sense of the yawning void under his feet； and his stomach flopped。
When he reached his seat in row sixteen； he dared to look back。
Relief flooded through him at the sight of Holly trailing close。
He pointed to a pair of empty seats immediately behind his and Chris tine's。
Holly shook her head。 〃Only if you'll sit down with me。 We have to talk。〃
He glanced down at Christine； then at Holly。 He was acutely aware of time slipping away like water swirling down a drain。 The awful moment of impact was drawing closer。 He wanted to pick the reporter up； stuff her into the seat； engage her seatbelt； and lock her in place。 But seatbelts didn't have locks。
Unable to conceal his extreme frustration； he spoke to her through grit ted teeth。 〃My place is with them；〃 he said； meaning with Christine and Casey Dubrovek。
He had spoken quietly； as had Holly； but other passengers were beginning to look at them。
Christine frowned up at him； craned her neck to look back at Holly； and said； 〃Is something wrong； Steve？〃 〃No。 Everything's fine；〃 he lied。
He glanced at the portholes again。 Blue sky。 Vast。 Empty。 How many miles to the earth below？ 〃You don't look well；〃 Christine said。
He realized that his face was still sheathed in a greasy film of sweat。
〃Just a little warm。 Uh； look； I ran into an old friend。 Gimme five minutes？〃 Christine smiled。 〃Sure； sure。 I'm still going over a mental list of the most…eligible。〃
For a moment he had no idea what the hell she was talking about。
Then he remembered that he had asked her to play matchmaker for him。
〃Good；〃 he said。 〃Great。 I'll be right back； we'll talk。〃
He ushered Holly into row seventeen。 He took the aisle seat next to her。
On the other side of Holly was a grandmotherly tub of a woman in a flower…print dress； with blue…tinted gray hair in a mass of tight curls。
She was sound asleep； snoring softly。 A pair of gold…framed eyeglasses； suspended around her neck on a bead chain； rested on her matronly bosom； rising and falling with her steady breathing。
Leaning close to him； keeping her voice so low it could not even carry across the narrow aisle； but speaking with the conviction of an impassioned political orator； Holly said； 〃You can't let all those people die。〃
〃We've been through this；〃 he said restively； matching her nearly inaudible pitch。
〃It's your responsibility〃 〃I'm just one man！〃 〃But one very special man。〃
〃I'm not God；〃 he said plaintively。
〃Talk to the pilot。〃
〃Jesus； you're relentless。〃
〃Warn the pilot；〃 she whispered。
〃He won't believe me。〃
〃Then warn the passengers。〃
〃There aren't enough empty seats in this section for all of them to move here。〃
She was furious with him； quiet but so intense that he could not look away from her or dismiss what she was saying。 She put a hand on his arm； gripping him so tightly that it hurt。 〃Damn it； maybe they could do something to save themselves。〃
〃I'd only cause a panic。〃
〃If you can save more； but you let them die； it's murder；〃 she whispered insistently； anger flashing in her eyes。
That accusation hit him hard and had something of the effect of a hammer blow to the chest。 For a moment he could not draw his breath。
When he could speak； his voice broke repeatedly： 〃I hate death； people dying； I hate it。 I want to save people； stop all the suffering； be on the side of life； but I can only do what I can do。〃
〃Murder；〃 she repeated。
What she was doing to him was outrageous。 He could not carry the load of responsibility she wanted to pile on his shoulders。 If he could save the Dubroveks； he would be at working two miracles； mother and child spared from the early graves that had been their destinies。 But Holly Thorne； in her ignorance about his abilities； was not satisfied with two miracles； she wanted three； four； five； ten； a hundred。 He felt as if an enormous weight was bearing down on him； the weight of the whole damned airplane； crushing him into the ground。 It was not right of her to put the blame on him； it wasn't fair。 If she wanted to blame someone； she should cast her accusations at God； who worked in such mysterious ways that He had ordained the necessity of the plane crash in the first place。
〃Murder。〃 She dug her fingers into his arm even harder。
He could feel anger radiating from her like the heat of the sun reflected off a metal surface。 Reflected。 Suddenly； he realized that image was too apt to be anything less than Freudian。
Her anger over his unwillingness to save everyone on the plane was