“I’ll say she did. That’s why I wanted you to lie face down as I did. I knew we were in for something.”
“I feel weak like baby.”
“I’m sorry, old fellow,” said Hal sincerely. “I’m sorry we couldn’t let you take the chute and escape all this, but it wouldn’t have been sporting. Understand?”
The pilot nodded weakly. He even smiled.
“I was not frightened for death so much, Señor Hal. More I was frightened for myself—my sins.”
Hal frowned until his freckled brow wrinkled into one deep channel between his bright blue eyes. Then a light of understanding spread over his fair face and he smiled.
“Oh, you mean your religion, huh, Rodriguez?” he asked. “You mean you were afraid of your sins in case you did die, huh?”
Rodriguez made the sign of the cross and his dark-skinned hands fell limply to his sides.
“Yes, yes, Señor. My sins were many—too many to die a peaceful death, Señor. I would have to tell you....” He closed his eyes and seemed to doze off.
Hal shrugged his shoulders and got up. He could hear the burning plane snapping and cracking against its steel frame. Its acrid fumes carried on the breeze even to where he stood and hung heavily on the air in a blue haze.