by Holly Hook
I stand back to let the small crowd pour up ahead of us. Feet thud on stairs as bodies, life belts, and shoes vanish up the narrow, spiral stairwell.
Simon and I follow.
"We're going to be okay," I tell Melvin. My feet slop against the metal steps and I nearly slip on the moisture I'm dragging up. I force my stiff joints to move.
A landing later, Simon waves me through an open door and into a brightly lit room that smells faintly of breakfast. The kitchen. Already feet thud away from us and squeak against the floor. I have a feeling that we're the last ones to go up this stairwell.
There's no sign of Frank in the white expanse of the kitchen. He must be lost in the passages. A trail of wet footprints lead through a pair of double doors. One swings shut and bounces back and forth. Others like us are cutting through here.
“Through there,” Simon says, giving me another clap on the back. “I think that might lead up to the top.”
I shove open one of the doors with my free shoulder as Melvin groans. He grows heavy in my grasp as my feet reach lush carpet. I hike him up farther as the shock of my surroundings stops me. Where's the exit? I search the room.
We've entered another world.
The most elegant restaurant I can imagine stretches out in front of us. White tablecloths lay draped over round tables as silverware shines underneath the chandeliers. Plants grow in every corner and stained glass windows let in faint light from outside. It's nothing like the plain, boring dining hall downstairs where I've eaten plum pudding every day for lunch. Well, in this time. I can still remember the sandwiches Nancy made for me and Monica yesterday, too. Whoever eats here does so in style.
“Wow.” Melvin opens up as his gaze turns upward at the chandelier above us. I follow his gaze and my heart sinks. It leans at a funny angle. My feet aren't quite even, like they want to slide down the length of the room.
A long, low groan sounds somewhere in the ship below us.
Simon yanks out his watch again. “One forty-five.” He licks his lips and gives me a pleading look not unlike Melvin's. “Two-twenty. That's when you think it's all over?”
“I don't think. I know,” I say, grabbing his arm and pulling him across the length of the room, past beautiful tables and a world that's about to end. “We have twenty minutes to get to the last boat.” Once on the top of the deck, will I remember where to go? The crowds grow above us, getting more panicked and restless. “Run. The Timeless will try to stop us.”
My sides protest and my lungs burn. My arms turn to rubber trying to keep Melvin up. He's gone silent again, bouncing in my arms and taking in the surroundings. They turn into a blur around me.
“Timeless?” Simon sputters.
“The golden eyed people.” I stop there. I don't have the heart to tell him the rest.
They're going to take him. No matter what happens, they'll take him.
These could be my few minutes with Simon. After Time takes him, there's no guarantee he can come back to me.
I'll never see my father again.
Those two thoughts swirl around me as I ram into the next set of double doors as Melvin cries out in pain. I apologize and squeeze through as the door tries to close behind me. There's no sign of the other passengers from our deck. They must have taken another turn.
The room opens up as another rushing sound reaches my ears.
I breathe in the cold odor of salt as I take it in.
We're at the Grand Staircase.
It's far bigger than I imagined, so much different than the gray picture I saw in Nancy's book. It spirals up and down through the heart of the ship like a giant strand of DNA. All that's missing are gentlemen in suits and ladies in flowered hats walking up and down its steps. I feel dirty and plain just looking at it.
Until I spot the water rushing up the staircase from the deck below.
The rushing sound turns into a roar in my ears as the green mass creates a whirlpool in the middle of the steps below. Its hungry jaws lap at the base of our level, wanting to eat.
Melvin screams and wraps his arms around my neck. “Don't make me go in the water!”
“I won't. I promised.” I nod to Simon. “This leads up to the boats. We'll come out right on deck.”
If there's any confusion left in Simon, he doesn't show it. “They treat their first class like kings. Of course they'll be closest to the boats.” He looks at his watch again as I leap over the water and onto the steps. “One fifty.”
Fifteen minutes left before the last boat leaves.
Terror spreads through my limbs, giving me the strength to keep holding Melvin up as he chokes me. The steps bounce in my vision as I barely keep my footing. Simon runs behind me, pushing me along, making sure I don't fall.
“Stop.”
A pair of tennis shoes and the bottom half of black jeans drop into my vision a few steps above me.
No.
It's Frank, staring down at me with an unreadable expression.
Somewhere above him, I can hear shouts of panicked men and women. Cries of children. Even—my God—a gunshot. The noises should terrify me, but I'm far more scared of the golden-eyed monster staring down at us who couldn't care less if Melvin falls down those stairs and dies a slow, horrible death in that cold water.
“Move,” I order, holding my fear back from view. Thankfully Melvin hasn't turned to look at him yet. My brother still keeps his death grip on me.
Frank says nothing. Instead, he reaches into his pocket and pulls something out that makes me feel like I'm wading in the Arctic all over again.
A knife. With a blade that's six inches long, it's easily enough to impale my heart.
“You're becoming far too difficult,” he says, pointing the tip straight at me. It trembles in his hands, unstable and dangerous. "I've been forced to deal with you another way."
Chapter Seventeen
April 15, 1:55 a.m.
All thought of the sinking ship and the water rushing up from below fly away like a flock of terrified birds.
The only thing that matters is the blade Frank points at my chest. He holds it with skill, like it's an extension of himself, but his chin wobbles. His knees tremble. He doesn’t want to stab me, but I can't forget who's in charge here. Time itself wants me dead tonight. Frank's nothing but its puppet.
"Frank," I say, holding one hand up towards him. Everything slows down. The rushing water grows louder and louder. It's rising up through D Deck now. It's already consumed four of the stairs that we ran up only seconds ago. Soon the Titanic will nose down into the water and form that famous image from every book and website ever made on the topic. We're minutes from 2:20. There is no other way to go but through Frank.
Frank looks away at the railing and grits his teeth. He lowers the knife to point at my stomach as his thumb twitches over the handle. He’s nervous, too. Unpredictable.
A strange calm settles over me, almost a relief that I won't fall to my death after all. I turn to the side to shield Melvin as much as I can. There's no escape below us. If he stabs me, I'll tumble down into the raging water, but Simon can at least grab Melvin and have a chance at getting him into a boat. The water below glistens like it's welcoming me to its depths. Furniture bobs up and down on its surface, mere debris now. Give up, it whispers. Just give up. It's easier this way.
Simon's face appears next to mine, wide and terrified. The water below makes light ripple across his skin. He's never looked more beautiful.
Melvin screams, a high-pitched sound that wakes me up.
I'm not going to give up and die like this when we're so close.
Simon nods at me and jumps up the stairs as I leap to the side, nearly losing hold of my brother. The world goes in slow motion as he lunges for Frank.
Frank raises the knife.
Charges me.
I jump back, turning to keep Melvin away from him.
Simon's fist races for Frank's face.
Hits.
The knife flies to the sid
e and slices across the railing, leaving a hairline scar on the wood. Frank falls onto the step, dropping the knife. It tumbles down the steps and into the ocean with hardly a splash, where it will stay for the rest of time.
"Simon!" I rush to him as he stands over Frank, breathing heavily.
Frank lies on the steps as the first of the water laps over his feet and his shins. A gold trail runs out of one nostril, shimmering in the weird light. He stares up at Simon with those unnatural eyes, unfocused but still there.
Simon wraps his arm around me and Melvin both, squeezing as he gapes at the golden blood running out of Frank's nose. "Julia, what--"
"Up!" I order. "He'll get back up. We have two minutes!" I can't know how much time has passed. The last boat could be lowering this second.
But my threat gets him moving. Simon pounds up the stairs, stealing another look back. The water nips at my ankles as I follow, Melvin hanging over my shoulder like a limp doll.
The screams outside grow louder. There's a second, closer gunshot. Men bark orders that are muffled through the walls and the glass. The night looks very black and sinister through the glass dome crowning the top of the staircase. It'll shatter in minutes and the underwater expeditions will be able to send their robots down to explore the Grand Staircase in about ninety years.
"I think that's the way out." Simon's voice rises in hope as he points to a door like a hunting dog. The other side of the glass is panic. Screaming. People darting past in both directions, desperate for that last escape. The black-uniformed form of an officer pauses in front of the door for a second before vanishing into the chaos again.
We have to go out there and brave it.
All of my senses sharpen, taking in every grain of the carpet, every individual voice outside, every whiff of water and death. Every squeak and thud of the footfalls coming up the stairs behind us--
With a grunt, Frank tackles Simon and sends him to the floor with a thud.
"Bad man!" Melvin yells, waving his fist at Frank. "Let him go!"
I'm still at first, shocked. Another groan rolls through the ship and sends another round of screams through the air outside. Simon grits his teeth. Frank holds him down against the carpet and grabs at his hair. The rushing of the water grows louder, closer, racing up from below. Light intensifies around their struggle, like a ring of it cast down on a boxing match. The chandeliers hang at crazy angles, pointing at the walls like accusing fingers.
The light around Simon and Frank isn't coming from the ceiling.
It radiates from the floor, golden and alive. It’s a rift, one of those really strong ones that mortals can see. Frank's trying to open one.
Beams poke through as the carpet seems to break apart, dancing around the outline of Simon's body as time reaches out to snatch him away.
They're taking him early.
Leaving me to die.
"Julia!" he shouts, struggling to face me as Frank slams his shoulders into the floor. He squints against the light. "Run! Get out of here!"
"What's that?" Melvin asks in my ear.
I set him down, where he staggers to keep his balance on the tilted funhouse floor. I should let Simon go. He'll be safe in the Hub. He'll learn to roller skate like a pro and spin coins on high school lunch tables. That gold light will take him anyway in a few minutes whether or not I get out of this alive.
But I can't.
There might be another way.
Simon tilts his face away from the glow stabbing at his eyes. He's given up struggling, given up too soon.
With a war cry, I charge Frank.
Aim a kick at his side.
Hit home.
Frank grunts and rolls away, landing near the first step of the Grand Staircase as another long groan of pain sounds through the innards of the ship. There's something brown in his hand. A wad of Simon's hair.
Simon's DNA. His code. Frank’s taken that just in case. He’ll take it back to the Hub and Time will know how to sniff Simon out.
"Simon!" I shield my eyes with my hand and take his arm. "Get up. You're okay." I pull him up from the light, barely feeling Melvin pull on my leg from behind.
He shoots up from the floor as the carpet vanishes underneath him, leaving a perfect golden hole in his shape. On the other side, the sun itself seems to peek through, blinding, angry, hungry.
"What was that?" Simon asks as I blink away the light. My vision flares with pink and green afterimages. We're at the door to the deck outside and Simon has Melvin over his shoulder. My brother's eyes glisten as he eyes the sight behind us.
"You don't want to know." I stand so close to him that our chests touch, and I can feel his heartbeat against mine. We match in that second, Simon's eyes begging me for answers that I can't give.
Now I'm the one that can't speak.
"Come on," I shout, pushing open the door to the nightmare outside.
It's the apocalypse.
Loud voices bombard me from every side. Feet hammer up and down the deck. Life belts wash past me, white against the darkness. Nearby a woman with three children clinging to her skirts pleads with an officer. They stand near a pair of poles. Lifeboat davits.
A flare explodes overhead, bathing everything in light for a second. Empty space hangs between them. Most of the boats are gone.
"Follow me!" I wave Simon through the crowd, not sure that he's heard me over the noise. The deck stretches for miles up and down, lined with davits and empty spaces where the lucky have already escaped. I run away from the crowd, searching, praying that I see the white outline of the last boat sometime in the next few seconds. The last boat will get launched from the top of the officers' quarters, near the bow. But from what side of the ship?
I hit railing and lean forward, catching myself. The world tilts around me and I catch my breath.
The whole front of the Titanic has gone underwater.
Simon swears as he joins me, hanging back with Melvin in his arms. It's as if the entire bow has vanished. It must already be feet under the water. A hissing sound meets my ear now that we're away from the crowd.
It's the ocean rising up towards us.
Simon shakes his head at me, frowning so much it must hurt. "This isn't where we want to be."
A third gunshot sounds somewhere, probably on the other side of the ship. Two follow it as if one of the officers is trying to control the crowd. But they'd only need to do that if--
"There's one more boat!"
It's not too late after all. I turn away from the rising sea, link arms with Simon, and run uphill towards the noise and the panic. The deck's deserted here, gone of anyone who values their life.
We run up the empty deck together, uphill over the planks, pumping our legs and sucking air into our lungs like it's about to run out. I'm skating with Simon all over again, only I'm leading him this time towards a wall that he might not be able to get through. They'll only let the women on the final boat. Not the men. Not this late, unless he jumps as they lower the boat.
My heart beats so fast it might explode.
It'll kill me to leave Simon here alone.
Melvin cries now beside me, red-faced as he looks on at the water over Simon's shoulder.
But even more, I can't let my little brother die here.
I can't leave him alone in the world.
Simon will live if he stays here.
Melvin won’t.
I make my decision as Simon and Nancy and Monica all die screaming inside me.
"Melvin and I are getting on the boat."
"Good." Simon looks straight ahead, keeping pace.
I lock his arm in mine tighter. He returns it as the lights inside the ship flicker, sputter, and blaze back to life. Broken notes flow from a small orchestra playing near the doorway to the gymnasium, mostly drowned out by pounding feet and terrified cries.
The crowd grows thicker and louder as we plow through. Trousers and shoes and legs move out of the way. A body slams into me, nearly knocking me out of Simo
n's grasp, but I regain my footing on the tilted surface and push my way through to the other side of the deck, to where the gunshots came from.
People jostle. Run. Push against each other as they head towards the stern and their last stand. I smell leather and tobacco and perfume.
The crowd grows thinner as I run along the other side of the deck, downhill now. It's broken apart enough to let me to see the rest of the way down the deck, to the rail we leaned over a minute before. Water flows up through the bottom bars. It's finally reached the Boat Deck.
Before it, sailors pull on ropes near the edge of the deck. Panicked men and women crowd around, searching for one last hope. They're a mass of fear, of panic, of doom. One man rushes the officers and jumps overboard after whatever they're lowering into the sea, and then another, jacket flapping behind him. No one else dares.
I stop as my heart flattens.
The final boat.
Gone.
It's late and too far away to go jump in, even without holding onto Melvin.
The world goes silent for a second, the sounds of nerves and footfalls fading behind me. Even Melvin stops crying out loud. Simon's shoulders slump next to me, enough so that I know he understands.
There's no hope left.
A strange tune begins somewhere, gently parting the noise around me.
A happy tune. A violin ebbs and flows slowly, then picks up speed as it builds towards a climax. It's a waltz that would fit a dinner in a garden, not a sinking ship--
--or a high school Spring Formal dance.
It's the song.
I remember its name now.
Songe d'Automne.
Autumn for short.
Thought by some to be the last song the band plays before the Titanic disappears under the ocean.
Now I know for sure.
I look at Simon, the last one off the ship alive. An idea dawns inside me. He matches my gaze as his brows rise in question.
If Simon goes to the Hub, than Melvin and I are going with him whether Time likes it or not.
"One of the lounges," I say. We're going with Simon. It's our only hope. "A tablecloth. We're tying ourselves together."
