"Tim LaHaye & Jerry Jenkins - Left Behind Series 7 - The Indwelling" - читать интересную книгу автора (LaHaye Tim)

As people stampeded by, some went under the scaffold, most went around it, and
some jostled both Buck and the support poles, making the structure sway. Buck he-
Id tight and looked to where giant speakers three stories up leaned this way and that,
threatening their flimsy plywood supports.
Buck could choose his poison: step into the surging crowd and risk being trampled
or step up a few feet on the angled crossbar. He stepped up and immediately felt the
fluidity of the structure. It bounced and seemed to want to spin as Buck looked
toward the platform over the tops of a thousand streaking heads. He had heard
Carpathia's lament and Fortunato's keening, but suddenly the sound-at least in the
speakers above him-went dead.
Buck glanced up just in time to see a ten-foot-square speaker box tumble from the
top. “Look out!” he shrieked to the crowd, but no one heard or noticed. He looked
up again to be sure he was out of the way. The box snapped its umbilicals like
string, which redirected its path some fifteen feet away from the tower. Buck
watched in horror as a woman was crushed beneath it and several other men and
women were staggered. A man tried to drag the victim from beneath the speaker,
but the crowd behind him never slowed. Suddenly the running mass became a
cauldron of humanity, trampling each other in their desperation to get free of the
carnage.
Buck could not help. The entire scaffolding was pivoting, and he felt himself swing
left. He hung on, not daring to drop into the torrent of screaming bodies. He caught
sight of Jacov at last, trying to make his way up the side steps to the platform where
Carpathia's security detail brandished Uzis.
A helicopter attempted to land near the stage but had to wait until the crowd cleared.
Chaim sat motionless in his chair, facing to Buck's right, away from Carpathia and
Fortunato. He appeared stiff, his head cocked and rigid, as if unable to move. If he
had not been shot, Buck wondered if he'd had another stroke, or worse, a heart
attack. He knew if Jacov could get to him, he would protect Chaim and get him
somewhere safe.
Buck tried to keep an eye on Jacov while Fortunato waved at the helicopters,
pleading with one to land and get Carpathia out of there. Jacov finally broke free
and sprinted up the steps, only to be dealt a blow from the butt end of an Uzi that
knocked him off his feet and into the crowd.
The impact snapped Jacov's head back so violently that Buck was certain he was
unconscious and unable to protect himself from trampling. Buck leaped off the
scaffold and into the fray, fighting his way toward Jacov. He moved around the
fallen speaker box and felt the sticky blood underfoot.
As Buck neared where he thought Jacov should be he took one more look at the
platform before the angle would obscure his view. Chaim's chair was moving! He
was headed full speed toward the back of the platform.
Had he leaned against the joystick? Was he out of control? If he didn't stop or turn,
he would pitch twelve feet to the pavement and certain death. His head was still
cocked, his body stiff.
Buck reached Jacov, who lay splayed, his head awkwardly flopped to one side, eyes
staring, limbs limp. A sob worked its way to Buck's throat as he elbowed stragglers
out of the way and knelt to put a thumb and forefinger to Jacov's throat. No pulse.
Buck wanted to drag the body from the scene but feared he would be recognized
despite his extensive facial scars. There was nothing he could do for Jacov. But
what about Chaim?
Buck sprinted left around the platform and skidded to a stop at the back corner,