"Dafydd ab Hugh, Brad Linaweawer DOOM: Hell on Earth (english)" - читать интересную книгу автора

I barely hung on, abandoning retros to guide our
two-man "cruise missile" by fins, air-braking to spill
as much excess velocity as possible. The ship started
shaking. An old silver tooth filling started to ache.
Arlene leaned back against the seat, muscles in her
jaw tightening, eyes getting wider and wider. I think
she was starting to appreciate the gravity of our
situation.
North America unwound beneath the window like
a quilt airing out on a sunny day. We were over the
Mississippi, sinking lower, falling west, descending
fast. Then we entered a cloud bank. We weren't there
very long.
"I know where we are!" shouted Arlene, voice
starting to sound funny from the breathing problem. I
placed it too. We'd popped out of the cloud bank
about 150 kilometers due west of Salt Lake City. The
Bonneville salt flats were ideal for a landingЧa vast,
dry lake bed, nothing to hit but dirt. Very hard dirt.
But we had a chance.
"Spill the fuel!" she screamed, right in my ear,
straining against the buffeting. At least we were low
enough that we could breathe. I yanked the lever,
dumping what little JP-9 remained in the tanks.
The cabin was getting hot again, the structure of the
rocket shaking like we were in a Mixmaster, and it
was now or never. "Hold on!" I shouted, thinking
how stupid it sounded but needing to say something.
Arlene screamed like a bansheeЧa much more
insightful comment.
We came down fast and hard, finally striking the
ground at Mach 0.5. The ship shredded on impact,
skipping like a rock on the waters of a salt-white lake.
Then it rolled, and Arlene's elbow jammed into my
side so hard it knocked the breath out of me.
End over end we tumbled, and my brains, already
fried, scrambled so I didn't know dirt from sky. We
shed bits and pieces from the shipЧonly the titanium
frame was left, but still we kept rolling.
The ship finally skidded to a stop, on its side, with
me underneath Arlene.
For a good five minutes, felt like five hours, we lay
silently, dazed, wondering if we had made it or not
. . . waiting for the world to stop spinning.
"Are you all right?" Arlene managed to ask.
"I think we're alive," I said.
The fuel was completely spent, which was just fine
with me. No risk of fire or explosion. Now if we could
just get out of the thing.
Fortunately, the door on Arlene's side wasn't