"Tim Lahaye & Jerry Jenkins - Left Behind Series 12 - Glorious Appearing" - читать интересную книгу автора (LaHaye Tim)

the mortar cannons and shooting at high angles. He guessed the shells would drop short of the Petra
perimeter.
He was wrong. Maybe their cannons were bigger than the typical unrifled short barrels. The
shells flew past the perimeter and began dropping all around him. When one exploded right in front
of him, Rayford was nearly pitched off the ATV. Grabbing for the handlebar with his free hand, he
saw his phone go flying, bouncing a hundred yards down the rocky steep.
And now his vehicle was out of control. He bounced high off the seat and realized he was
soaring through the air with only his hands attached to the ATV. He came down hard, and the
contraption bounced and rolled sideways. To hang on or not was the only thing on his mind, and
quickly that option was gone too. The four-wheeler hit yet again, ripping his grip away. As he
bounced and rolled, he kept picking up the sight of the vehicle disintegrating as it smashed into
rocks all the way into a valley.
Rayford reminded himself not to try to break his own fall. He tucked hands and arms in and tried
to relax, fighting his natural instinct for all he was worth. The grade was too steep and his speed too
fast to control himself. The best he could wish for was a soft landing place.
A shell deafened him from about ten feet to his right, knocking him into a sideways roll. Rayford
felt his temple
smash into a sharp rock and was aware of what sounded like rushing water as he rolled toward
thorny overgrowth. Scary as the thorns looked, they had to be softer than what he had been hitting.
Rayford was able to shift his body weight as he slowed and backed into the thorns. It was then he
realized what the liquid sound was. With each beat of his heart, galloping now, his life's blood
spurted six feet from the wound in his temple.
He pressed his palm hard against his head and felt the gush against his hand. He pressed with all
his might and felt he might be containing it somewhat. But Ray-ford was in danger nowтАФmortal
danger. No one knew exactly where he was. He was without communications or transportation. He
didn't even want to inventory his injuries, because regardless, they were minor compared to the
hole in his head. He had to get helpтАФand fastтАФ or he would be dead in minutes.
 Rayford's arms were gashed, and he felt sharp pains in both knees and one ankle. He reached
with his free hand to pull up his pant leg and wished he hadn't. Not only had something sliced the
flesh from his ankle, but something had taken part of the bone too.
Could he walk? Dare he try? He was too far from anywhere to crawl. He waited for his pulse to
abate and for his equilibrium to return. He had to be a mile from Mac and his people, and he could
not see them. There was no going back up. He rolled up onto his feet, squatting, one hand
desperately trying to keep himself from bleeding to death.
Rayford tried to stand. Only one leg worked, and it was the one with the nearly totaled ankle. He
may have broken a shinbone in the other. He tried to hop, but the incline was so great, he found
himself pitching forward again. And now he was out of control one more time, trying to hop to
keep from falling but picking up speed with every bounce. Whatever he did, he could not take his
hand from his temple, and he dared not land on one more hard thing. "Lord, now would be a most
appropriate time for You to come."
Chang sensed something was about to give. He had succeeded in intercepting signals from
geosynchronous satellites that supported communications among the millions of troops. They were
about to move, and his key people needed to know.
He called George. "Expect an advance within sixty seconds," he said.
"We've already been shelled," George yelled. "You mean more than that?"
"Yes, they will be coming."
"Rayford see you?"
"Left a little while ago. On his way to see Mac."
"Thanks. Call Mac, would you? I'll inform the others."
Chang called and told Mac the same.