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- Дэн Браун
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- Ангелы и демоны
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- Стр. 415/583
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Reaching
across
his
body
and
wedging
the
tapered
end
of
the
bone
into
the
crack
between
the
floor
and
the
coffin
,
Langdon
reached
up
with
his
other
hand
and
heaved
skyward
.
The
box
did
not
move
.
Not
even
slightly
.
He
tried
again
.
For
a
moment
,
it
seemed
to
tremble
slightly
,
but
that
was
all
.
With
the
fetid
stench
and
lack
of
oxygen
choking
the
strength
from
his
body
,
Langdon
realized
he
only
had
time
for
one
more
effort
.
He
also
knew
he
would
need
both
arms
.
Regrouping
,
he
placed
the
tapered
edge
of
the
bone
against
the
crack
,
and
shifting
his
body
,
he
wedged
the
bone
against
his
shoulder
,
pinning
it
in
place
.
Careful
not
to
dislodge
it
,
he
raised
both
hands
above
him
.
As
the
stifling
confine
began
to
smother
him
,
he
felt
a
welling
of
intensified
panic
.
It
was
the
second
time
today
he
had
been
trapped
with
no
air
.
Hollering
aloud
,
Langdon
thrust
upward
in
one
explosive
motion
.
The
casket
jostled
off
the
floor
for
an
instant
.
But
long
enough
.
The
bone
shard
he
had
braced
against
his
shoulder
slipped
outward
into
the
widening
crack
.
When
the
casket
fell
again
,
the
bone
shattered
.
But
this
time
Langdon
could
see
the
casket
was
propped
up
.
A
tiny
slit
of
light
showed
beneath
the
rim
.
Exhausted
,
Langdon
collapsed
.
Hoping
the
strangling
sensation
in
his
throat
would
pass
,
he
waited
.
But
it
only
worsened
as
the
seconds
passed
.
Whatever
air
was
coming
through
the
slit
seemed
imperceptible
.
Langdon
wondered
if
it
would
be
enough
to
keep
him
alive
.
And
if
so
,
for
how
long
?
If
he
passed
out
,
who
would
know
he
was
even
in
there
?
With
arms
like
lead
,
Langdon
raised
his
watch
again
:
10
:
12
P
.
M
.
Fighting
trembling
fingers
,
he
fumbled
with
the
watch
and
made
his
final
play
.
He
twisted
one
of
the
tiny
dials
and
pressed
a
button
.
As
consciousness
faded
,
and
the
walls
squeezed
closer
,
Langdon
felt
the
old
fears
sweep
over
him
.
He
tried
to
imagine
,
as
he
had
so
many
times
,
that
he
was
in
an
open
field
.
The
image
he
conjured
,
however
,
was
no
help
.
The
nightmare
that
had
haunted
him
since
his
youth
came
crashing
back
…
The
flowers
here
are
like
paintings
,
the
child
thought
,
laughing
as
he
ran
across
the
meadow
.
He
wished
his
parents
had
come
along
.
But
his
parents
were
busy
pitching
camp
.
"
Don
’
t
explore
too
far
,
"
his
mother
had
said
.
He
had
pretended
not
to
hear
as
he
bounded
off
into
the
woods
.
