by Holly Hook
A mom squeezes past me, a crying boy in her arms. There’s another boy pushed against the opposite wall, pale. He must only be four.
And I can’t save them all.
Isabel’s room. If I inch against the wall, I can get there. The crowd’s moving against me, a slow river of people trying to squeeze up the stairs. It’s not working. There’s a barricade of bodies stuck there while people try to get up to the decks. A pair of legs stick out from underneath the throng, hanging out from under the rails. Anyone who falls won't make it.
I inch along the wall, pushing against the throng. It’s almost impossible. There’s no room to move. An older man shouts something at me as I move past him. Complete panic has taken over. I grab onto the door frame of Isabel’s cabin.
A third boom shakes the whole ship, and the lights go out.
It’s pitch dark. My heart goes on a runaway course. I’m in a grave full of moving, panicked bodies. And there’s another noise, cutting over everything.
Rushing water. If I’m right, from somewhere below.
And is the floor tilting?
I lose it. I stand against the wall, hyperventilating. I can’t move. Terror paralyzes me. There’s more screams echoing from below, from those trapped in the rising water. A few gunshots. Murders…or mercy killings. People are already dying. Anyone below us isn’t going to make it up fast enough in these crowds. They’re going to drown in darkness, pressed against so many others.
The world blazes red past my eyelids. It does something to break the panic in me. I open them. Dull emergency lights now shine between cabins, illuminating all faces in a ghostly yellow. The crowd makes a new push towards the stairwell, a more frenzied push.
And this time, they’re taking me with them.
There’s no fighting back. I’m trapped in a stream of people, growing closer and closer to the stairs. Everyone’s scrambling for the decks and the lifeboats. I’m getting carried upstream. Over the still figure of a woman sprawled on the stairs. I’m leaving Isabel and her family behind in that cabin, a room they’re probably trapped in.
“No!” I shout. There’s no point in blowing my cover now. I swing at a sailor huffing his way up behind an older couple. “Let me back down!”
He takes my blow and keeps going. It’s like I haven’t even hit him.
But my voice is lost in the screams of everyone else. I stagger and catch my footing. If I fall here, I won't get back up. Ever. I can't die but I can go into the depths with this ship. I might never find a rift and get out.
The crowd drags me out to the glass promenade deck. The enclosed deck. Windows block the way outside. Women beat against them, trying to break them, while children watch and cry. There’s no way out over here. I slide forward, towards the glass. The ship's definitely tilting to one side. The bombs or torpedoes or whatever must have all hit on one side of the ship.
There’s a lifeboat lowering on the other side of the glass, half-empty. People beat harder on the glass, begging to be saved, but the boat lowers out of sight and into the inky water below. I can’t breathe. So many bodies push against me. I’m trapped.
There has to be another way out of here. Isabel and her family might head up to the decks. Her dad’s a military guy. He’d probably know better than the crowd in this area.
It’s getting hard to stand. The tilt’s getting worse by the minute. I turn, which is no easy feat. A few others are going with me. If it weren’t for that, I wouldn’t be moving at all.
It’s no better out in the hallway. There’s still a steady flow of people coming up from below. I smell ocean now. It's frigid death and cold. The ship’s filling. People—children—are drowning below us or getting trampled to death. There’s no way I’m going to get back to that cabin now.
Wait.
There.
I spot a flash of red on black heading up to the next deck. Isabel’s father.
And next to him is Isabel and her mother. Her mother has the younger daughter in her arms. They’re going right past the promenade death trap and outside.
I rejoin the river of panic. “Isabel!” She can’t hear me, of course. Her mane of hair disappears up the stairwell.
People push at me from behind. Cold air hits me. We're headed outside. We pass another passenger deck and stop while more terrified people cram onto the stairway. I get pushed against the wall and hold my breath until enough people pass where I can move again. I have to hurry. If I don’t get topside fast enough, Isabel won’t be anywhere to be found.
More people are leaning against the wall now. A sailor falls against it. The ship’s tilting to the side so badly that soon, it will be impossible to get above decks. Everyone still below isn’t going to make it.
Somehow, I burst onto the deck outside. The sky’s a featureless black. The screaming is even louder out here, more desperate. It’s not as packed up here and I can move, but Isabel’s nowhere to be found. Her family’s already run somewhere else. Where are the lifeboats? They’d go for those.
Bitter cold air wraps around me. It’s just like the Titanic. Just as cold and deadly, only there are a lot more people here. I slip and catch my footing. The deck’s icy. A woman near me goes down and slides down the ship towards the black expanse of the water below. There are no lights. Most of the ship is dark. People gather at the railings, either stuck there by the tilt or desperate to get on the other side. I spot one lifeboat out in the water, a dark shape that’s drifting away. Isabel wouldn’t be on that one. Time only claims people who would otherwise die.
I stagger towards the boat deck, or what I think is the boat deck. Climb over a rail. There’s people gathered around one, they’re beating on the frozen ropes of one of the boats with their bare hands. There aren’t any sailors around, lowering them. The whole place is chaos.
One of the lifeboats clunks down to the deck, and everyone rushes it. I spot Isabel’s hair. Her father’s black uniform. They scramble in.
I run faster. I’m going to lose them.
My feet slip out from under me and I’m sliding. Sliding towards the boat…and the water. Isabel’s sitting inside next to her parents. The boat’s crashing into the water and drifting alongside the ship.
I crash into the railing and grab on, only to keep myself from going in. Others do the same. I can’t go any farther. If I stand, I’m going into the sea. Into that icy agony that I already know too well. There are already people sliding in. Splashes everywhere. Screams of pain. Life jackets bobbing up and down in the water.
I’ve failed to reach Isabel’s family. They’re already drifting away. She sent me on an impossible mission. All I can do is hold onto this railing, cold and helpless.
But wait—they’re in a lifeboat. Maybe I don’t need to save them.
A horrible grinding noise sounds to my left. I crane my neck to look up.
There’s something massive sliding down the ship. A huge cannon. It’s broken free of whatever bolted it down and it’s plunging to the water.
To where Isabel’s family is trying to escape.
More screams erupt all around me as the huge cannon topples over the railing.
I barely catch the golden light enveloping Isabel and disappearing before it crashes down on the entire boat, exploding wooden splinters and worse.
“No!” I scream. I can’t take any more.
I can't take any more. I let go.
Slide down the deck of the ship and towards the water. Isabel’s mother and sister are gone, crushed under war and horror. Meanwhile, Isabel’s been taken to the Hub, where she will live forever knowing what happened to them.
Like me.
I close my eyes. I’m going into the water.
“Julia!”
A hand grabs my wrist and I stop, crying out. My feet dangle over the water only feet below. The ship’s about to go under, taking thousands of souls with it.
“Hold on!”
Someone’s calling my name.
Simon.
I look up and he�
��s there, surrounded by gold and clutching my arm with both hands.
“Don’t let go,” he breathes. “Put your foot on the rail. Hoist yourself up. Hurry.”
I struggle to put my foot up, and I’m climbing up towards Simon. I slip once on the ice, but then I’m up in his arms and we’re falling through the abyss of light together.
Chapter Eleven
We crash on the floor of the Main Chamber. Warmth envelops me and Simon pulls me so close that I can’t breathe again. But I don’t care. We’re away from the Wilhelm Gustloff and the horrible screams of pain.
“Julia. Why did you go in there without me?” He's full of horror. He runs his hand through my hair and I press my face up against his chest. I’m shaking. No. I’m sobbing.
“I had no idea.” I’m saying it over and over. I can’t stop. “Isabel…I had no idea.”
“She doesn’t talk about it much.”
“Whoever sank that ship murdered kids!”
“I know. It was beyond disgusting.”
I don’t know how long I sit there, curled up in Simon’s arms on the floor of the Main Chamber. It could be forever. It could be a minute. I don’t know. Time doesn’t actually flow here. I'm just glad he's here. Isabel must have gone and gotten him when I went through.
At last, I calm down enough so that Simon can loosen his grip. He looks at me, an apology in his deep eyes. Guilt creases his features. He doesn’t need to speak for me to know what he’s thinking. If he’d just stayed with me today, this wouldn’t have happened.
“Julia, I was out all day trying to find another member of the Timeless to go in there so we wouldn’t have to. So you wouldn't have to. I didn’t think you and Isabel were talking. I didn’t think you’d find the gateway to the Gustloff. But when she came and found me me, I knew. I had to go and pull you out of there.”
I slow down my breathing. The screams are fading now, but I know they’ll be there when I go back to sleep tonight. They’re waiting to grab at me and rip me apart.
“And you didn’t find anybody who would help us.”
He shakes his head. “No one is willing to. All the other Timeless are too worried about what could happen if we upset the flow of history. I really hoped it wouldn't come down to this, Julia.”
“I wanted to have you come along with me. I didn't want to do this behind your back.”
“It's not your fault. I wasn't around. You had no way to ask me.”
“Why didn't you tell me where Isabel was from?” I ask. “I mean, I know Monica burst in and all this morning—”
“Because it's not easy for me to talk about. And I don't trust many with my secrets. Those I do, I swear to silence.”
I look up. Isabel's standing there. She looks frail now in her black hoodie, sad, small. Her proud stance is all but gone now. She's the shell of the girl I saw on the Wilhelm Gustloff, hollowed out and ready to break.
I’m shaking and losing it again. I can’t find the strength to stand up from the floor. “Isabel, I couldn't get them. I tried.”
She swallows. “I didn't think you could. It's okay. We can always try again, now that you know what you’re going to deal with. The gateway won’t go anywhere.”
“Then why did you send me into that without a warning?” I blink away tears.
“So you would understand.”
I can't help but feel a flush of anger rising up in me. “Understand what? What it’s like to be on a sinking ship? I wouldn’t know anything about that. Why didn't you just tell me where you came from and what happened?”
“That's not what I wanted you to understand,” she says. “Julia, have you ever heard of my tragedy? Ever?”
I stand up, keeping my hand linked with Simon's. He’s silent now. I'm surprised he's not yelling at her for having me go in there. He should be, but this is my conversation with Isabel. “I've never heard of the Wilhelm Gustloff, if that's what you mean. Didn't a lot of ships sink in the war?” Only when I speak do I realize how insensitive that sounds, but it's too late to take back the words.
Isabel winces. Hardens. “That’s what I wanted you to understand. Everyone knows about the Titanic. Everyone remembers you. Few even know about my ship.”
Simon leans close and speaks in my ear. “Over nine thousand people died in the Gustloff’s sinking, Julia. That's six times more than the Titanic. It was the deadliest sinking of a ship in all of history.”
"And the most forgotten," Isabel adds.
“What?” My anger dries up and I'm suddenly cold again. “How come I've never heard of that if it's true?” Dumb question. I saw how many people were trapped on that ship. How many drowned below decks or froze in that icy water. I have no doubt that what Simon's saying is right. Those kids...
“Everyone was fair game in World War Two,” Isabel says. “It was the end of the war. Millions had already died by then. No one cared when yet another ship went down. And we were the bad guys. We had it coming.” Her shoulders slump and she looks like she wants to sink through the floor to the universe beyond.
“But those were children!” Well, a lot of them. Isabel's father, on the other hand...“Not all of them were…you know…”
“I'm not proud of what my government did back in my life,” Isabel says. “Well, I used to be...at first. But when I became Timeless, I learned the truth.” She turns away like she can’t face ud. “It turned out that I was the villain all along, that my father was a monster. It tortures me every day to think of what he must have done when he left home, to think of what he was. I know you saw him, Julia. I can tell by the way you looked at me when you returned. That's my real tragedy.”
“I...” I don't have any words. It's bad enough to come from such a horrible event, but to learn that your father's an evil murderer who probably killed babies at some death camp? That's so much worse. “I don't know what to say, Isabel. I'm so sorry.” I hope, for her sake, that she never found out the details.
“It's okay,” she says in a tone that says, no, it isn't. “If you had brought my mother and sister back and left my father, I would have understood. I would have been glad. I know. It's a terrible thing to say.”
A hole opens inside of me, but part of it is full of relief. Isabel isn't a Nazi supporter. At least, she isn't now. “No. It's not okay. None of this is. What sank the Gustloff?”
“A Russian submarine,” Simon fills in for her. I've almost forgotten that he's there. “Torpedoes. Isabel's people were evacuating eastern Europe to escape from the war.”
So I was right. All those families were running from something after all.
“It was near the end of the war. The Russian army was advancing. They wanted to kill us all,” Isabel says. She looks somewhere distant, somewhere painful. “ had to escape to Germany however we could. You don't understand what that army was doing to people like me when they found us. Just imagine.”
I can imagine. I've read too much history to picture anything less than hellish. It must have been pretty horrific for those people to want to cram into that ship like that. “And you call yourself the bad guy.”
“There were a lot of bad guys in that war, on all sides,” Simon tells me. “A lot of us Timeless wish we could go back and stop it from happening in the first place.”
“And we can’t, can we?” I ask. I’m trembling. I’m never going to forget that panic, that smothering terror. “After all, it’s such a horrible thing to save millions of peoples’ lives, isn’t it?”
“It’s not that simple,” Isabel says, turning to face me. “We don’t know what tampering like that would do to the future.” There's uncertainty in her voice. Isabel doesn't believe a word she's saying.
I shrug. “It never is, is it? But do you know what?”
“What?” she asks. We stare at each other, linked by a cord of pain.
“I’m going to go back and try again. And I won’t stop until I pull your mom and sister out of there and hide them somewhere safe, the way Simon did with me. And then you’re going to
do the same for my brother and my father. I’m tired of watching everyone around me suffer and die.”
* * * * *
I’m afraid to sleep that night, even with Simon curled up next to me.
It’s not just because of what happened earlier today. Or where Time all meets, since the clock doesn't tick in the Hub. It’s partly because Monica’s right on the other side of the wall, and I hear the low sound of her favorite alternative station playing. One of her drawers opens and closes. She must be up late doing homework. I don’t know. I haven’t gotten a chance to talk to her today.
I feel like I'm leaving her farther and farther behind.
“You doing okay?” Simon asks, pulling me closer.
“As okay as I can.” Who am I kidding? Monica’s not the reason I’m staying awake.
“I wanted to tell you about Isabel, but she swore me to silence about where she was from. She only told me her past because she knew where I came from, and that I might be able to help her. And even then, she was very reluctant.”
“I would, too, if I had that father.” I’m willing to guess that she sent me in to find out for myself because she couldn’t muster up the courage to say it. And by the way, Julia, my dad’s a sadistic Nazi. Literally. And I used to think that was okay.
If I were Isabel, I’d rather die than tell anybody that.
“When Isabel and I met, I realized we had a lot in common,” Simon goes on. Then he catches my glare. “No—we never did anything romantic. She was with Frank at the time, and besides, all I could think about was you. We both had someone left behind that we wanted to save. No member of the Timeless had ever tried to save someone else’s family before. It’s forbidden to put someone in the wrong time on purpose. If the other Timeless find out, I’m not sure what they would do. Or what Time itself would do. But Isabel and I decided it was worth the risk. She’d save you first, and then I’d find a way to save her family. We’d never tell anyone else. I had her pull you out of 1912 the first time. From there, I took you to Nancy.”
“Have you tried going in after Isabel’s family yet?” I have to know. If she saved me, we owe her, even if she isn’t able to rescue my family.
