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What flashed before her was not her life； but the special people in it though in a way that was the same thing。
Even above the creak…rumble…shriek of the jet； and in spite of her focus on the faces in her mind； she heard Christine Dubrovek speak to her daughter in the last moments of their shaky descent： 〃I love you； Casey。〃
Holly began to cry。
Three hundred meters。
Delbaugh had the nose up。
Everything looked good。 As good as it could look under the circumstances。
They were at a slight angle to the runway； but he might be able to realign the aircraft once they were on the ground。 If he couldn't bring it around to any useful degree； they would roll three thousand or maybe even four thousand feet before their angle of approach carried them off the edge of the pavement and into a field where it appeared that a crop of some kind had been harvested recently。 That was not a desirable termination point； but at least by then a lot of their momentum would have been lost； the plane might still break up； depending on the nature of the bare earth under its wheels； but there was little chance that it would disintegrate catastrophically。
Two hundred meters。
Turbulence gone。
Floating。 Like a feather。
〃All right；〃 Anilov said； just as Delbaugh said； 〃Easy； easy；〃 and they both meant the same thing： it looked good； they were going to make it。
One hundred meters。
Nose still up。
Perfect； perfect。
Touchdown and TWANG！ …the tires barked on the blacktop simultaneously with the queer sound。
Delbaugh remembered the stranger's warning； so he said； 〃Power number one！〃 and pulled hard to the left。 Yankowski remembered as well； though he had said it was all a crock； and he responded to Delbaugh's throttle mand even as it was being given。 The right wing dipped； just as they had been told it would； but their quick action pulled the plane left； and the right wing came back up。 There was a danger of overpensation； so Delbaugh issued a new throttle mand while still trying to hold the craft to the left。 They were rolling along； rolling along； the plane shaking； and he gave the order to reverse engines because they couldn't； for God's sake； continue to accelerate； they were in mortal danger as long as they were moving at high speed； rolling； rolling； moving inexorably at an angle on the runway； rolling and slowing now； but rolling。 And the right wing was tipping down again； acpanied by hellish popping and metallic tearing noises as age…fatigued steel…trouble in the joining of wing and fuselage； Jim had said…succumbed to the stress of their wildly erratic flight and once…in…a…century crosswinds。 Rolling； rolling； but Delbaugh couldn't do a damn thing about a structural failure； couldn't get out there and reweld the joints or hold the damn rivets in place。 Rolling； rolling； their momentum dropping； but the right wing still going down； none of his countermeasures working any longer； the wing down； and down； oh God； the wing Holly felt the plane tipping farther to the right than before。
She held her breath or thought she did； but at the same time she heard herself gasping frantically。
The creaks and squeals of tortured metal； which had been echoing eerily through the fuselage for a couple of minutes； suddenly grew much louder。
The aircraft tipped farther to the right。 A sound like a cannonshot boomed through the passenger partment； and the plane bounced up； came down hard。 The landing gear collapsed。
They were sliding along the runway； rocking and jolting； then the plane began to turn as it slid； making Holly's heart clutch up and her stomach knot。 It was the biggest carnival ride in the world； except it wasn't any fun at all； her seatbelt was like a blade against her midriff； cutting her in half； and if there had been a carny ticket…taker； she knew he would have had the ghastly face of a rotting corpse and a rictus for a smile。
The noise was intolerable； though the passengers' screaming was not the worst of it。 For the most part their voices were drowned out by the scream of the aircraft itself as its belly dissolved against the pavement and other pieces of it were torn loose。 Maybe dinosaurs； sinking into Mesozoic pits of tar； had equaled the volume of that dying cry； but nothing on the face of the earth since that era had protested its demise at such a piercing pitch and thunderous volume。 It wasn't purely a machine sound； it was metallic but somehow alive； and it was so eerie and chilling that it might have been the bined； tortured cries of all the denizens of hell； hundreds of millions of despairing souls wailing at once。 She was sure her eardrums would burst。
Disregarding the instructions she had been given； she raised her head and looked quickly around。 Cascades of white； yellow； and turquoise sparks foamed past the portholes； as if the airplane was passing through an extravagant fireworks display。 Six or seven rows ahead； the fuselage cracked open like an eggshell rapped against the edge of a ceramic bowl。
She had seen enough； too much。 She tucked her head between her knees again。
She heard herself chanting at the deck in front of her； but she was caught in such a whirlpool of horror that the only way she could discover what she was saying was to strain to hear herself above the cacophony of the crash： 〃Don't； don't； don't； don't； don't； don't。 〃 Maybe she passed out for a few seconds； or maybe her senses shut down briefly due to extreme overload； but in a wink everything was still。 The air was filled with acrid odors that her recovering senses could not identify。
The ordeal was over； but she could not recall the plane ing to rest。
She was alive。
Intense joy swept through her。 She raised her head； sat up； ready to whoop with the uncontainable thrill of survival…and saw the fire。
The DC…10 had not cartwheeled。 The warning to Captain Delbaugh had paid off But as Jim had feared； the chaotic aftermath of the crash held as many dangers as the impact itself Along the entire starboard side of the plane； where jet fuel had spilled； orange flames churned at the windows。
It appeared as if he was voyaging aboard a submarine in a sea of fire on an alien world。 Some of the windows had shattered on impact； and flames were spouting through those apertures； as well as through the ragged tear in the fuselage that now separated economy class from the forward section of the airliner。
Even as Jim uncoupled his seatbelt and got shakily to his feet； he saw seats catching afire on the starboard side。 Passengers over there were crouching or dropping down on their hands and knees to scramble under the spreading flames。
He stepped into the aisle； grabbed Holly； and hugged her as she struggled to her feet。 He looked past her at the Dubroveks。 Mother and child were uninjured； though Casey was crying。
Holding Holly by the hand； searching for the quickest way out； Jim turned toward the back of the aircraft and for a moment could not understand what he was seeing。 Like a voracious blob out of an old horror movie； an amorphous mass churned toward them from the hideously gouged and crumpled rear of the DC…10； black and billowy； devouring everything over which it rolled。 Smoke。 He hadn't instantly realized it was smoke because it was so thick that it appeared to have the substance of a wall of oil or mud。
Death by suffocation； or worse； lay behind them。 They would have to go forward in spite of the fire ahead。 Flames licked around the torn edge of fuselage on the starboard side； reaching well into the cabin； fanning across more than half the diameter of the sliced…open aircraft。
But they should be able to exit toward the port side； where no fire was yet visible。
〃Quick；〃 he said； turning to Christine and Casey as they came out of row sixteen。 〃Forward； fast as you can； go； go！〃 However； other passengers from the first six rows of the economy section were in the aisle ahead of them。 Everyone was trying to get out fast。 A valiant young flight attendant was doing what she could to help； but progress was not easy。 The aisle was littered with carry…on luggage； purses； paperback books； and other items that had fallen out of the overhead storage partments； and within a few shuffling steps； Jim's feet had bee entangled in debris。
The churning smoke reached them from behind； enfolded them； so pungent that his eyes teared at once。 He not only choked on the first whiff of fumes but gagged with revulsion； and he did not want to think about what might be burning behind him in addition to upholstery； foam seat cushions； carpet； and other elements of the aircraft's interior decor。
As the thick oily cloud poured past him and engulfed the forward section； the passengers ahead began to vanish。 They appeared to be stepping through the folds of a black velvet curtain。
Before visibility dropped to a couple of inches； Jim let go of Holly and clutched Christine's shoulder。 〃Let me take her；〃 he said； and scooped Casey into his arms。
A paper bag from an LAX giftshop was in the aisle at his feet。 It had burst open as people tramped across it。 He saw a white T…shirt…I LovE L。A： with pink and peach and pale…green palm trees。
He snatched up the shirt and pushed it into Casey