"Tim LaHaye & Jerry Jenkins - Left Behind Series 1 - Left Behind" - читать интересную книгу автора (LaHaye Tim)

gaze. This disaster was still too fresh and there were too many unknowns. Rayford
thought he heard or lip-read one of them saying, “Christopher Smith,” but there was
no way he could hear inside the raucous craft. He put his mouth next to Hattie's ear.
“Now what about Chris?” he said.
She turned and spoke into his ear. “They wheeled him past us while I was going
into the lounge. Blood all over!”
“What happened?”
“I don't know, but, Rayford, he didn't look good!”
“How bad?”
“I think he was dead! I mean, they were working on him, but I'd be surprised if he
made it.”
Rayford shook his head. What next? “Did he get hit or something? Did that bus
crash?” Wouldn't that be ironic!
“I don't know,” she said. “The blood seemed like it was coming from his hand or his
waist or both.”
Rayford tapped the pilot on the shoulder. “Do you know anything about First
Officer Christopher Smith?”
“He with Pan-Con?” the pilot said.
“Yes!”
“Was he the suicide?”
Rayford recoiled. “I don't think so! Was there a suicide?”
“Lots of 'em, I guess, but mostly passengers. Only crew member I heard about was
a Smith from Pan. Slit his wrists.”
Rayford quickly scanned the others in the chopper to see if he recognized anyone.
He didn't, but one was nodding sadly, having overheard the pilot's shouting. He
leaned forward. “Chris Smith! You know him?”
“My first officer!”
“Sorry.”
“What'd you hear?”
“Don't know how reliable this is, but the rumor is he found out his boys had
disappeared and his wife was killed in a wreck!”
For the first time the enormity of the situation became personal for Rayford. He
didn't know Smith well. He vaguely remembered Chris had two sons. Seemed they
were young teenagers, very close in age. He had never met the wife. But suicide!
Was that an option for Rayford? No, not with Chloe still there. But what if he had
discovered that Irene and young Ray were gone and Chloe had been killed? What
would he have to live for?
He hadn't been living for them anyway, certainly not the last several months. He
had been playing around on the edges of his mind with the girl in his lap, though he
had never gone so far as touching her, even when she often touched him. Would he
want to live if Hattie Durham were the only person he cared about? And why did he
care about her? She was beautiful and sexy and smart, but only for her age. They
had little in common. Was it only because he was convinced Irene was gone that he
now longed to hold his own wife?
There was no affection in his embrace of Hattie Durham just now, nor in hers. Both
were scared to death, and flirting was the last thing on their minds. The irony was
not lost on him. He recalled that the last thing he daydreamed about—before
Hattie's announcement—was finally making a move on her. How could he have
known she would be in his lap hours later and that he would have no more interest
in her than in a stranger?