by Holly Hook
I'm going to wake him. I remember which berth is his, at least. We might need help with the gates.
"Where are we going?" Isabel sounds hoarse. No, the mortal her isn't used to so much exercise.
I ignore her. Every second counts. I turn a corner and arrive at the door that's Simon's berth. It doesn't matter if we wake the men inside.
I barge in.
It looks exactly like what Simon's quarters were in the Hub--rows of neat bunks, fresh white paint, shiny floor. Only this time, it's inhabited. Simon's at a table, playing a card game with a couple other guys in overalls. Tobacco smoke rises from the table, forming strange rings. They all look up at me. Simon's chocolate eyes land on me and widen. The other two men--both in their twenties, stare and stare. They weren't expecting to see a girl in her nightgown arrive so late at night.
"Simon." I wave him over.
He rushes over to me and blocks the view of the other men. We rush back out into the hallway. "Is something wrong?" he asks.
"Very. Where's the entrance to the crows' nest?" We're going to have to climb up the inside of it. Shouting at the lookouts from the deck might not work.
"What do you want to know that for?" He's all confusion. He faces Isabel. "Who's she?"
"Tell me, or we're all going to die."
"Julia, what is going on?"
"Just tell me where the entrance is."
"Now," Isabel pleads.
Simon breathes out and closes the door to the berth, probably to block the sight of me from the other men more than anything.
"Okay. But you have to tell me what's going on later."
Simon leads the way, down through a spiral staircase, along another hall and ultimately, to a closed gate. Beyond it lies a narrow, cramped staircase only meant for the crew. "I think this is it."
My heart's pounding. Any minute, we'll feel the ship lurch as it scrapes the iceberg. If that happens, Simon and Father are dead. Arnelia is dead. Maybe even Isabel will die.
Simon pulls at the gate. It squeaks but doesn't move. Clearly, a key is needed here.
“I'm not sure about this,” he says.
“Try again!” I rush over and seize the gate. “Isabel—some help here.”
Simon stares at me, bewildered. “We could get in very bad trouble for this.”
“I don't care.”
“They might keep us locked up or something. You never know. Come on. This is ridiculous.”
He starts to walk away.
Isabel shoots me a look. We have to do something drastic here.
I still have the butterfly in my hand. I know what I have to do. Simon's going to hate this, but we don't have the time for anything else.
I run up behind him and clamp the butterfly down on his head. It's going to give him my memories, but it should be enough.
Simon freezes. He rubs the top of his head, feeling what's there. The light blinks again as it activates. He cries out and claws at the butterfly that's now stuck to his scalp. It would be hilarious under any other circumstance. He's going to be mad at me for putting something so girly on him later, but this is life or death.
“What--” he begins, crashing into the wall.
“Just deal with it,” I tell him. I take his arm. “It'll be over in a second.”
He takes a breath and stills. Then, he faces me. His deep brown eyes are full of understanding. Simon has all my memories and some of Isabel's, too. He knows the fate of this ship. He knows what we have to do.
Simon takes the butterfly off and hands it to me. “I had no idea.” He studies the gate and his eyebrows rise. “All three of us. Pull. Make noise.”
I grab onto the gate beside Simon. Isabel helps. We rattle the gate as hard as we can. Isabel screams. Someone opens a berth door nearby and shouts at us in another language, then slams the door again. We have to get someone to come here and unlock the gate, even if it's just to yell at us.
Footfalls come up the stairs. A man in overalls covered in coal dust appears. “What are you kids up to?” he roars. “What is this racket?”
We stop moving the gate. I have to think fast. “There's been a murder,” I say. I'm talking nonsense, but I'm panicked enough for it to look genuine.
The man gets out a key ring and unlocks the gate. “Where?” His face is long and tired from a long shift. He starts to close the gate behind him, readying the keys.
Simon swings his fist and hits the guy right under the chin. The man staggers back into the gate, making it rattle again. He slumps to the floor, leaving the gate open for us.
“Simon!” I say.
“Come on!” he says, waving us into the stairwell.
We run in a spiral, deeper into the ship and closer to where the end is going to begin. What would the entrance to the crows' nest look like? It'll have a ladder.
Somewhere below us, another man laughs. If any more crew members catch us, we're going to be hard pressed to find the crows' nest in time. They'll kick us out. Simon won't be able to overpower them all. If we were still Timeless, we could do mind tricks on them and have them let us through. We don't have anything on our side now.
“Over here,” Isabel says. “I think this may be the place.”
I face where she's pointing. There's an alcove and inside it, a ladder.
I run in and look up. Dim lights illuminate a ladder that seems to go up to the heavens. It's the crows' nest for sure.
“Stop.”
My heart leaps. I turn and Isabel backs into me.
Only Simon stands between us and Frank. He stands there at the base of the spiral stairway, knife ready, with eyes as gold as any rift I've ever seen.
He can kill all three of us if he wants.
“Frank,” Simon growls.
Frank's mouth falls open. “How do you know my name?” He blinks. “How do you remember? You shouldn't.”
Simon faces me. “Go,” he whispers.
I can't leave him. Frank will tear Simon apart. I grab Simon's arm. “Come on!”
But Simon can't resist. He swings and hits Frank square in the jaw. Frank staggers back and hits the wall, tripping over a step. His face reddens and he lunges at Simon, knife ready. I pull Simon out of the way just as he stabs into another step. His hand gets stuck between two of them and Frank curses, trying to pull it out. I should grab the knife, but he keeps his grip. His golden eyes train on us, mad and desperate. Frank's going insane. Whatever he mentioned when he attacked Arnelia—whoever they are that are going to come after him—they must be on his case.
“You first.” Simon points to the ladder.
I scramble up first and Isabel comes up behind me. It's dark here, with only a dim light or two all the way up. I feel as if I'm climbing a ladder to the sky. This must be to the crow's nest, to where that warning bell waits to be rung. We need to ring it before the iceberg comes into view, to tell them to turn the ship before we even see it. I'm not sure how we'll do that.
“Hurry,” Isabel urges.
“I am.” I glance down. Her dark form comes up under me, and Simon after her. The narrow tunnel is stifling. Cold. I force myself to take deep breaths as I climb. There's no water in here, at least. I can't take that again, now that I'm mortal.
“It's eleven thirty five,” Simon says from below. “Keep going. We have four minutes.”
Four minutes. Then we strike the iceberg, sealing Simon's fate and my father's fate.
“Hurry,” I urge him. What if Frank stabs him in the leg and he's injured until we get to land? Or worse?
A few dozen more rungs.
That's all. There's a trapdoor up ahead, illuminated by the light. We're close.
Simon echoes up. “He's coming.”
“Go,” Isabel whispers.
Ten more rungs.
“Stop!” Frank orders. “You don't know what you're doing!”
“I'll hold him off,” Simon says. “I'm above him. I should be able to. Just warn the crew!”
I'm there.
I pop open th
e trapdoor on starry night and frigid air. My breath spirals in front of me and the black pant legs of two men meet my gaze. One turns. “Did you find the binoculars—who are you? What are you doing up here?”
I climb all the way up into the night. My skin tightens, trying to shut out the cold. The two crew members stand there, flabbergasted. We might have only seconds. “Iceberg,” I manage. “Any second--”
The two men turn. I follow their gaze. The bow of the ship cuts through a calm, black expanse of water. They're not going to see it yet, but it's out there.
“Nothing,” one says. They both turn to me and the older of the two men glares. “This is not humorous, young lady. This is not a gag. This is a serious matter. I am calling someone to escort you back to your—how many of you set up this prank?” He gazes down at Isabel, who pokes her head up from the hatch.
I'm in panic. “Tell them to turn the ship. Now.” I can't reach the bell behind him.
Then I see it.
It's there, looming large in the night. A dark shape approaches, growing bigger each second.
We're too late. I know it. The iceberg is too close. If they turn the ship now, the same thing will happen that's always happened. We'll scrape the side, opening up the ship and filling four different compartments with water. Then we'll sink.
“Did you understand me, young lady?”
But if we can damage only one of those watertight compartments--
“Okay.” I sigh. My heart's pounding. I grab onto the side of the crow's nest. “I'm sorry. My friends sent me up to do this on a dare. We'll head back down right now and go back to bed.” Frank's still down there. I have to mention him. “Can you have someone escort us after all? There's a man down there with a knife who threatened us if we didn't do the prank.” He must be climbing up now, right behind Simon. I have to get the crew to arrest Frank.
The man sighs. The iceberg looms larger behind him. “Why didn't you tell us? Let me call the bridge for you now.”
He picks up the phone and everything lurches and grinds.
The man goes down, falling onto his partner. The two of them grasp the railings and I stagger. Isabel cries out. Simon curses somewhere below us.
Frank must be coming up the ladder, but the deck is so far below us. I'm dizzy. The ship stops lurching. They must have cut the engines. I glance overboard. The same dark shape, as high as a building, looms just in front of us. We're stopped. The nose of the ship rests right over grayish-blue ice. There's a horrible scraping sound. We've struck the iceberg head on instead of having it open up the side of the ship.
Even if we have stopped the ship from ultimately sinking, water's still rushing in somewhere. It could even be right below us.
One of the crew members picks up a phone. He's talking gibberish to the bridge. I'm freezing. Isabel grabs my arm. “What do we do now?” she asks.
There's another grinding sound. We're still scraping up against the iceberg, but the ship doesn't move to the side. It's blocking our path forward. We've changed history again. Not quite in the way I wanted, but maybe, just maybe, those watertight compartments will work and only the first one will fill.
Simon and Father won't have to die.
But will we?
I lean over the hatch and pull Isabel out. Simon emerges right behind her. And directly below him, climbing the ladder with his knife between his teeth, is Frank.
He's still coming. I have an idea.
I face Simon and glance at the deck far below. The five of us are so crammed up here in the crow's nest, this might not even work. But we have to try. Frank's so crazed that he'll murder us for certain now.
We've got to push him over the edge. Literally.
Frank emerges from the hatch. Isabel screams and backs away into one of the officers. "It's him!" she shouts. "Arrest him! He's got a knife!"
The younger officer pushes past me, cramming me against the freezing railing of the crow's nest. I'm dizzy. I could fall. "Sir, are you bothering these young ladies?" he asks.
But Frank's reaching up to take the knife from his teeth. His intentions are clear. Gold flashes in his eyes. The crew member backs away into Simon. Frank brandishes the knife. Growls. He might even kill them, too. Whatever's scared him into hunting us must be horrible if it's driving him to this.
"Move!" he shouts. "You don't understand what's going on here. Let me do my job and put this back the way it should be."
I'm still holding the butterfly.
Its wings are still sharp.
I charge Frank with my weapon in front of me. I stab it into his side and he gasps, eyes bulging open. There's a gross sucking sound as I pull the hair clip back. Even in the dark, I spot a dark stain spreading across the side of Frank's shirt.
He drops his knife and grabs at his side.
I ram into him and shove.
Frank leans over the rail curses. Simon joins me. We grab Frank's belt. Lift. My arm trembles. Frank screams as we tilt him over the side. Golden blood smears on the metal.
His boots catch on the railing and he hangs there, waving his arms. The knife falls into the night. “No!”
Isabel turns away. “Let him fall.”
I hesitate. I know what it's like to plunge. I just won't watch. But one of the crew members pushes past me, grabs Frank's boot, and pushes him the rest of the way off the edge.
Frank's screams reverberate on the way down.
And then, there's a sound like shattering glass as he hits the deck.
The crew member turns away and grimaces. But then he gets his composure and asks, “Are you ladies okay? Did he hurt any of you?”
“What was he?” the other man asks. He's eyeing the golden blood still on the railing. “His eyes--”
“I don't know,” I lie. I have to come up with an excuse and get down from here in case the water's rushing up from below. I can't be certain we stopped the ship from sinking. “All I know is that he threatened to stab us if we didn't climb up here and tell you there was an iceberg. Simon here had to punch a stoker to get up here, and we're very sorry.”
But both crew members have turned away. They're not listening. Instead, they're studying the deck far below, where Frank must be lying. I know he's not dead. He can't die.
I join them.
Frank lies twisted in a heap far below. He's a dark smudge against the expanse of the deck. Water parts somewhere, and the iceberg recedes into the night. They're reversing the ship. I don't want to imagine what the front looks like now, but I picture it anyway: smashed in, with a hole opened up to the icy Atlantic.
We have to get down. Now.
Frank lifts one arm and pushes himself up.
“He's still alive,” one of the crew members says. There's awe in his voice. “This shouldn't be happening. Call the bridge. Tell them there's a madman on the loose.”
I grab Simon's arm. Isabel stands there, stunned. I slug her on the arm. “Ladder,” I say. The crew isn't concerned about us now. Now's the time to make our getaway. There's no time to thank these two men for stopping Frank.
The three of us scramble down the ladder, Simon first. The descent seems to take forever. I strain my ears for any rushing water. There's none, at least not here. The stokers below us must be scrambling out of the first compartment by now.
We could have avoided this, if only those men above had believed us.
Now history has changed in ways I can't know, and as regular mortals, the three of us can't change it again.
Light opens up, and we reach the bottom of the ladder. I have to run back to my berth to check on Melvin and Father. Thankfully, they're sleeping in the back of the ship, far away from this mess. Frank will have a hard time getting to us again, with the entire crew up and either searching for him or figuring out what to do with the other new development.
“There they are.”
We stop.
It's the stoker that Simon punched. He's up, rubbing his jaw with one hand and clenching his other fist. Three black-uniformed
officers stand behind him, waiting. Shouts ring up from below us, but no panicked crew members rush up from below.
One of the officers steps forward. “Come with me,” he orders. “The three of you are under arrest.”
Chapter Three
“What's going on with the ship?” I ask.
The officers lead us through several corridors and through another gate. We're headed deeper into the ship. I want to scream. Simon keeps his hand locked with mine. Isabel comes up behind us.
“What's going on with the ship?” I repeat.
“I assure you, we are perfectly safe,” one of the officers says. He stops before a door. “From what I have heard, only the front watertight compartment of the ship was breached, and it is doing its job. We will not sink. Now, if the three of you hadn't entered an unauthorized area and distracted our crew, we might not have struck the iceberg at all. Our arrival in New York is no doubt delayed.”
“Or we would have sideswiped it and opened four or five compartments instead, ultimately sinking the ship and killing fifteen hundred people,” I snap.
The officer puts his hand on the knob and stares at me as if I have tentacles coming out of my ears. “What kind of ridiculous scenario is that?”
“Be glad we're not going to experience it. I hope.”
I don't think he knows what to think. He opens the door on a small office and waves us inside. “Sit tight,” he orders. “We will figure out what to do with you as soon as things are under control.”
I step inside. I'm not sure whether to be relieved or terrified. Even though I know the officer is probably right about the ship not sinking, it doesn't quell my racing pulse. Simon enters the room behind me and Isabel comes in last. She hasn't spoken since we came down the ladder.
They close the door behind us, leaving us with silence.
Isabel's breathing grows louder. She's hyperventilating.
“Isabel. We're safe. I know how this ship works. We're not going to go down.” I want to add that I don't think we are, but I have a feeling that won't help calm her.
She turns away, eyeing the walls for any possible escape. I know what she's feeling.
