by Tim LaHaye
Away from the sidewall of the river, less muck was stirred with their movements, and their lights had more range. Rayford’s picked up something, and he put up a hand to stop Mac. Despite the relative calm, they angled toward the side to keep from drifting. Both shined lights where Rayford indicated. There, bigger than life, was the huge, wholly intact right wing of a 747. Rayford fought for composure.
Rayford scanned the area. Not far ahead they found the left wing, also intact except for a huge tear from the flaps to where it had connected to the plane. Rayford guessed they’d find the tail section next. Witnesses said the plane went in nose first, which would have brought the back of the plane down with such force that the tail should have been ripped apart or broken off.
Rayford stayed low and moved approximately midway between where they had found the wings. Mac grabbed Rayford’s ankle just before Rayford collided with the gigantic tail of the plane. It had been severed. The plane itself had to be dead ahead. Rayford moved twenty feet ahead of the tail and turned upright so he was almost standing on the bottom. When one of his fins touched he realized how mushy it was and how dangerous it would be to get stuck.
It was Buck’s turn to feed Hattie, who had become so weak she could barely move. Dr. Charles was on his way.
Buck spoke softly as he spooned soup to her lips. “Hattie, we all love you and your baby. We want only the best for you. You’ve heard Dr. Ben-Judah’s teaching. You know what’s been foretold and what’s already happened. There’s no way you can deny that the prophecies of the Word of God have been fulfilled from the day of the disappearances until now. What will it take to convince you? How much more proof do you need? Bad as these times are, God is making clear that there is only one choice. You’re either on his side or you’re on the side of evil. Don’t let it get to where you or your baby are killed in one of the judgments to come.”
Hattie pressed her lips together and refused the next offering of soup. “I don’t need any more convincing, Buck,” she whispered.
Chloe hobbled over. “Should I get Tsion?”
Buck shook his head, keeping his eyes on Hattie. He leaned close to hear her. “I know this all has to be true,” she managed. “If I needed more convincing, I’d have to be the biggest skeptic in history.”
Chloe brushed Hattie’s hair away from her forehead and tucked the bangs up. “She’s really hot, Buck.”
“Crumble some Tylenol in this soup.”
Hattie seemed to be sleeping, but Buck was worried. What a waste if they somehow lost her when she was this close to a decision for Christ. “Hattie, if you know it’s true, if you believe, all you have to do is receive God’s gift. Just agree with him that you’re a sinner like everyone else and that you need his forgiveness. Do it, Hattie. Make sure of it.”
She appeared to be struggling to open her eyes. Her lips parted and then closed. She held a breath, as if to speak, but she did not. Finally, she whispered again. “I want that, Buck. I really do. But you don’t know what I’ve done.”
“It doesn’t make any difference, Hattie. Even people who were raptured with Christ were just sinners saved by grace. No one is perfect. We’ve all done awful things.”
“Not like me,” she said.
“God wants to forgive you.”
Chloe returned with a spoonful of crushed Tylenol and stirred it into the soup. Buck waited, praying silently. “Hattie,” he said gently, “you need more of this soup. We put medicine in it for you.”
Tears slid down Hattie’s cheeks, and her eyes closed. “Just let me die,” she said.
“No!” Chloe said. “You promised to be my baby’s godmother.”
“You don’t want somebody like me for that,” Hattie said.
“You’re not going to die,” Chloe said. “You’re my friend, and I want you for a sister.”
“I’m too old to be your sister,” she said.
“Too late. You can’t back out now.”
Buck got some soup down her. “You want Jesus, don’t you?” he whispered, his lips near her ear.
He waited a long time for her response. “I want him, but he couldn’t want me.”
“He does,” Chloe said. “Hattie, please. You know we’re telling you the truth. The same God that fulfills prophecies centuries old loves you and wants you. Don’t say no to him.”
“I’m not saying no to him. He’s saying no to me.”
Chloe tugged at Hattie’s wrist. Buck looked at her in surprise. “Help me sit her up, Buck.”
“Chloe! She can’t.”
“She has to be able to think and listen, Buck. We can’t let her go.”
Buck took Hattie’s other wrist, and they pulled until she sat up. She pressed her fingers against her temples and sat moaning.
“Listen to me,” Chloe said. “The Bible says God is not willing that any should perish. Are you the one person in history who did something so bad that not even the God of the universe can forgive you? If God forgives only minor sins, there’s no hope for any of us. Whatever you’ve done, God is like the father of the Prodigal Son, scanning the horizon. He stands with his arms wide open, waiting for you.”
Hattie rocked and shook her head. “I’ve done bad things,” she said.
Buck looked at Chloe, helpless, wondering.
It was worse than Rayford could have imagined. He came upon the colossal fuselage, its nose and a quarter of its length buried in the muck of the Tigris at a forty-five-degree angle. The wheel housings were gone. Rayford could only dread what he and Mac were about to see. Everything in that plane, from equipment to carry-on luggage, seats and seat backs, tray tables, phones, and even passengers, would be in one massive heap at the front. An impact violent enough to snap landing gear from a plane would immediately break the neck of any passenger. The seats would have ripped from the floor and accordioned atop each other, passengers stacked upon each other like cordwood. Everything attached would have broken loose and been forced to the front.
Rayford wished he at least knew what seat Amanda was supposed to have been in, so he could save the time of digging through the entire wreckage to rule her out as a victim. Where to start? Rayford pointed up to the protruding tail end, and Mac followed him as they ascended.
Rayford grabbed the edge of an open window to keep from being pulled by the current. He shined his light into the cabin, and his worst fears were confirmed. All Rayford could make out in that back section was bare floor, walls, and ceiling. Everything had been driven to the other end.
He and Mac used the windows as grips to pull themselves down at least fifty feet to the top of the debris. The rear lavatories, storage compartments, walls, and overhead bins lay atop everything else.
Hattie hung her head. Buck worried they were pushing her too far. Yet he would have a hard time forgiving himself if he didn’t give her every opportunity and something happened to her.
“Do I have to tell him everything I’ve done?” Hattie breathed.
“He already knows,” Chloe said. “If it makes you feel better to tell him, then tell him.”
“I don’t want to say it out loud,” Hattie said. “It’s more than affairs with men. It’s even more than wanting an abortion!”
“But you didn’t go through with it,” Chloe said.
“Nothing is beyond God’s power to forgive,” Buck said. “Believe me, I know.”
Hattie sat shaking her head. Buck was relieved to hear the doctor drive in. Floyd examined Hattie quickly and helped her lie down. He asked about medication, and they told him of the Tylenol. “She needs more,” he said. “Her temperature is higher than you reported just a few hours ago. She’ll be delirious soon. I need to find whatever is causing the fever.”
“How bad is it?”
“I’m not optimistic.”
Hattie was moaning, trying to talk. Dr. Charles held up a finger to keep Buck and Chloe away. “You and Tsion might want to pray for her right now,” the doctor said.
Rayford wondered about the wisdom of s
wimming through hundreds of corpses, especially with an open wound. Well, he figured, whatever might contaminate him had already done so. He worked feverishly with Mac to start removing the debris. They kicked wider a gash in the hull between two windows, through which they painstakingly pushed chunks of the interior.
When they reached an unusually heavy panel, Rayford got beneath it and pushed. He quickly realized what added the weight. It had been the rear seat for the flight attendant. She was still strapped in, hands balled into fists, eyes open, long hair floating free. The men gently set the panel aside. Rayford noticed Mac’s light was dimmer.
That panel had protected the bodies from fish. Rayford wondered what they were subjecting these corpses to now. He shined his light through the mass of tangled seats and trash. Everyone had been strapped in. Every seat appeared occupied. No one could have suffered long.
Mac smacked his light and the beam grew brighter. He shined it into the carnage, touched Rayford’s shoulder, and shook his head as if to say they should not go farther. Rayford couldn’t blame him, but he couldn’t quit. He knew beyond doubt that the search would put him at ease about Amanda. He had to go through this grisly ordeal for his own peace of mind.
Rayford pointed to Mac and then to the surface. Then he pointed to the bodies and smacked himself on the chest as if to say, you go and I’ll stay.
Mac shook his head slowly as if disgusted. But he didn’t go anywhere. They began lifting bodies, belted into seats.
Buck helped Chloe up the stairs, where they met with Tsion to pray for Hattie. When they finished, Tsion showed them that Carpathia had become his computer competition. “He must be jealous of the response,” Tsion said sadly. “Look at this.”
Carpathia communicated to the masses in a series of short messages. Each sang the praises of the rebuilding forces. They encouraged people to show their devotion to the Enigma Babylon faith. Some reiterated the Global Community’s pledge to protect Rabbi Ben-Judah from zealots, should he choose to return to his homeland.
“Look what I put in response to that,” Ben-Judah said.
Buck peered at the screen. Tsion had written, “Potentate Carpathia: I gratefully accept your offer of personal protection and congratulate you that this makes you an instrument of the one true, living God. He has promised to seal and protect his own during this season when we are commissioned to preach his gospel to the world. We are grateful that he has apparently chosen you as our protector and wonder how you feel about it. In the name of Jesus Christ, the Messiah and our Lord and Savior, Rabbi Tsion Ben-Judah, in exile.”
“It won’t be long now, Tsion,” Buck said.
“I just hope I can go,” Chloe said.
“I didn’t think there was an option,” Buck said.
“I’m thinking of Hattie,” she said. “I can’t leave her unless she’s healthy.”
They made their way back downstairs. Hattie was asleep, but her breathing was labored, her face flushed, her forehead damp. Chloe dabbed at her face with a cool washcloth. Dr. Charles stood at the back door, gazing through the screen.
“Can you stay with us tonight?” Buck asked.
“I wish I could. Actually, I wish I could take Hattie for care. But she’s so recognizable, we wouldn’t get far. After that caper in Minneapolis, I’m being looked upon with suspicion myself. I’m being watched more and more.”
“If you have to go, you have to go.”
“Take a look at the sky,” the doctor said.
Buck stepped closer and looked out. The sun still rode high, but dark clouds formed on the horizon.
“Great,” Buck said. “What will rain do to the ruts we call roads?”
“I’d better check on Hattie and get going.”
“How did you get her to sleep?”
“That fever knocked her out. I gave her enough Tylenol to dent it, but watch for dehydration.”
Buck didn’t respond. He was studying the sky.
“Buck?”
He turned. “Yeah.”
“She was moaning and mumbling about something she feels guilty about.”
“I know.”
“You do?”
“We were urging her to receive Christ, and she said she wasn’t worthy. She’s done some things, she says, and she can’t accept that God would still love her.”
“Did she tell you what those things were?”
“No.”
“Then I shouldn’t say.”
“If it’s something you think I should know, let’s have it.”
“It’s crazy.”
“Nothing would surprise me anymore.”
“She’s carrying a tremendous load of guilt about Amanda and Bruce Barnes. Amanda is Chloe’s father’s wife?”
“Yeah, and I told you all about Bruce. What about them?”
“She cried, telling me that she and Amanda were going to fly together from Boston to Baghdad. When Hattie told Amanda she was changing plans and flying to Denver, Amanda insisted on going with her. Hattie kept telling me, ‘Amanda knew I had no relatives in Denver. She thought she knew what I was up to. And she was right.’ She told me Amanda actually canceled her reservation for Baghdad and was on her way to the counter to buy a ticket to Denver on Hattie’s plane. Hattie pleaded with her not to do this. The only way she could keep Amanda from going was to swear that she herself would not go if Amanda tried to accompany her. Amanda made her promise she would not do anything stupid in Denver. Hattie knew she meant not having an abortion. She promised Amanda she would not.”
“What’s she feeling so bad about?”
“She says Amanda went back to get on the original flight to Baghdad but that it was now sold out. She told Hattie she wasn’t interested in waiting on a standby list and that she would still be more than happy to accompany her on her flight west. Hattie refused, and she believes Amanda boarded that plane to Baghdad. She said over and over that she should have been on it too, and she wishes she had been. I told her she shouldn’t say things like that and she said, ‘Then why couldn’t I have let Amanda come with me? She’d still be alive.’”
“You haven’t met my father-in-law or Amanda yet, Floyd, but Rayford doesn’t believe Amanda got on that plane. We don’t know that she did.”
“But if she wasn’t on that plane and didn’t go with Hattie, where is she? Hundreds of thousands died in the earthquake. Realistically, don’t you think you would have heard from her by now if she had survived?”
Buck watched the gathering clouds. “I don’t know,” he said. “It’s likely that if she’s not dead, she’s hurt. Maybe, like Chloe, she can’t contact us.”
“Maybe. Uh, Buck, there were a couple of other issues.”
“Don’t hold back.”
“Hattie said something about what she knew about Amanda.”
Buck froze. Was it possible? He tried to maintain composure. “What was it she supposedly knew?”
“Some secret she should have told but now can’t tell.”
Buck was afraid he knew what it was. “You said there was something else?”
Now the doctor appeared nervous. “I’d like to attribute this to delirium,” he said.
“Shoot.”
“I took a blood sample. I’m going to check it for food poisoning. I’m worried that my colleagues in Denver might have poisoned her in advance of the projected hit. I asked her what she had eaten out there, and she caught on to what I suspected. She shuddered and appeared petrified. I helped her lie down. She grabbed my shirt and pulled me close. She said, ‘If Nicolae had me poisoned, I’ll be his second victim.’ I asked what she meant. She said, ‘Bruce Barnes. Nicolae had him poisoned overseas. He made it all the way back to the States before he was hospitalized. Everyone thinks he died in the bombing, and maybe he did. But if he wasn’t dead already, he would have died even if the hospital had never been bombed. And I knew all about it. I’ve never told anyone.’”
Buck was shaken. “I only wish you could have met Bruce,” he mumbled.
“It would have been an honor. You can know for sure about his death, you know. It’s not too late for an autopsy.”
“It wouldn’t bring him back,” Buck said. “But just knowing gives me a reason. . . .”
“A reason?”
“An excuse, anyway. To murder Nicolae Carpathia.”
CHAPTER 20
Though water provided nearly the same weightlessness as outer space, pushing debris up and out and displacing rows of seats with bodies attached was grueling. Rayford’s light was dim and his air supply low. His scalp wound throbbed, and he felt light-headed. He assumed Mac was in the same shape, but neither signaled any intention of quitting.
Rayford expected to feel awful searching corpses, but deep foreboding overwhelmed him. What a macabre business! Victims were bloated, horribly disfigured, hands in fists, arms floating. Their hair waved with the motion of the water. Most eyes and mouths were open, faces black, red, or purple.
Rayford felt a sense of urgency. Mac tapped him, pointed to his gauge, and held up ten fingers. Rayford tried to work faster, but having checked only sixty or seventy bodies, there was no way he could finish without another air tank. He could work only five more minutes.
Directly below was an intact middle section row. It faced the front of the plane, as did all the others, but had rotated a little farther. All he saw in his fading light were the backs of five heads and the heels of ten feet. Seven shoes had come loose. He had never understood the phenomenon of the contraction of human feet in the face of violent collision. He estimated this row had been driven forward as many as twenty-five feet. He motioned to Mac to grab the armrest at one end while he took the other. Mac held up one finger, as if this needed to be the last effort before they surfaced. Rayford nodded.
As they tried to pull the row upright, it caught something and they had to reposition it and yank again. Mac’s end came up slightly ahead of Rayford’s, but when Rayford jostled his it finally rotated. The five bodies now rested on their backs. Rayford shined his flickering light into the panic-stricken face of an elderly man in a three-piece suit. The man’s bloated hands floated before Rayford’s face. He gently nudged them aside and directed his beam to the next passenger. She was salt-and-pepper-haired. Her eyes were open, her expression blank. The neck and face were discolored and swollen, but her arms did not rise as the others. She had apparently grabbed her laptop computer case and hooked its strap in the crook of her arm. Entwining her fingers, she had died with her hands pressed between her knees, the computer bag secure at her side.
