Then behind him, the cables holding the forward funnel began to snap one by one under the pressure, followed by a great sound of tearing metal.
No more holding on for dear life.
Lightoller took the same path as boat B. He slid feet first into the cold water, instantly forced under by the encroaching waves. As he swam to the surface, he could still hear the inharmonious sound of ripping metal, muffled by the water but still delivering a painful resonance. He made it back up to the surface and gasped for air, the cold water already beginning to put a vice grip on his lungs.
Above him, the forward funnel with its base now crumpled and sheared apart, began to lean like it would fall over at any moment. So he swam faster and with more incentive than ever before to get out of the way.
Seconds later, the funnel broke off and plunged forward into the water, narrowly missing the second officer, and producing significant waves on both sides. Lightoller was again swept underwater.
Dark and disoriented, he held his breath and tried to swim back up, failing to get very far. He tried a second time, again forced back down. He was near an engine room air intake, he now realized, and as the water rushed down it would suck him against the grate.
Feeling defeated and in need of oxygen, his head began to swell. Any moment now, he would blackout—take in a big breath of liquid death.
But then a rumble from below.
An explosion.
The cold water rushing through the air intake had hit the boilers, and with enormous speed and force, blasted Lightoller off the grate and propelled him back to the surface like a torpedo shot from a submarine. He coughed up some water and then took in as deep a breath as he could, still dangerously lightheaded. He could hear voices nearby in the water, and after taking in five or six strong breaths, began to swim toward them.
He came upon three men trying to scale the bottom end of collapsible B. It was a tough task, but once the first managed to climb on, he helped pull the others up and out of the water. As he swam closer, Lightoller thought two of the men looked familiar.
“Got room for one more?”
“Sure thing, mate,” one of them said, and reached out a hand for Lightoller. He hauled him up on to the overturned boat. The other two that Lightoller had recognized were Jack Phillips and Harold Bride, the Marconi wireless operators.
“Is there help on the way?”
“The Carpathia, Baltic, and Olympic,” said Bride.
Then as a group, the four men turned and looked back at the Titanic.
SMITH
The ship was now submerged up to the third funnel, its lights still casting a glow over the water. There was a series of thunderous crashing sounds, as any mobile items on board such as pianos and trunks, or smaller things like china and silverware, all fell forward. People were also sliding down the deck, spinning in circles, screaming or moaning all the way to their deaths. The rest desperately clung to railings or staircases or whatever was within reach, trying to delay the inevitable.
Captain Smith had his back flat against the wall to the tank room between the third and fourth funnels, facing up at the stern. From where he stood, he spotted only one infected nearby, a tattered looking man in a long coat hanging on to the foot of a woman from steerage. Most of the other infected had either already been dropped in the drink or were down on lower decks losing their balance along with everything else.
The woman from steerage had her back turned to Smith, showing her curly blond hair and long beige dress. The thing behind her dangled face down on the wooden deck, trying to pull itself up, while she held on to the railing with one hand trying to break free, screaming for help.
As sad as it made him to listen to the woman’s pleas, Smith wouldn’t dare try to climb up the steep deck. Perhaps if he was a younger man. She was a good thirty feet up from his position. But then, what would be the point of it anyway? The lifeboats were gone. In minutes, the Titanic would be plummeting to the bottom of the Atlantic. Even if he could save her, she’d die in the freezing water. It was, as he had said to Jack and Harold, every man for himself.
Then she lost her footing and fell to the wooden deck, sliding down two or three feet before grabbing back hold of the railing. The infected man was still attached to her ankle, but now that she was down at his level, he could more easily pull himself up her body. As the woman squirmed, Smith finally saw the real reason for her cries—bundled up in a blanket against her bosom.
A baby.
The infected man saw the baby too, its tiny pink face the only part not covered by the blanket—but first he took a mouthful of meat off the woman’s leg, chewing it like it was the most delicious thing in the world. She screamed in agony as he took another bite from the same spot, and then went for the baby.
Deciding she’d rather fall to her death then allow her or the baby to be eaten, the woman let go of the railing. She began to slide down with the infected man still on top of her, picking up more and more speed as they went.
Smith leaned down against the wall and grabbed the woman by the arm as she passed, stopping her from going down any further. The infected man slipped off during the sudden stop and continued downward in an uncontrollable fall.
The woman looked up at the captain, her eyes red and filled with tears, clutching her baby with her free arm. Smith took hold of her with both hands and pulled her up and around the corner of the tank room.
With no fear of falling, the woman handed the baby over to Smith. “Please. Keep her safe.”
“I’m sorry there’s nothing I can do for her. If we had more time...”
Smith stopped gazing into the poor woman’s eyes and looked down at the baby bundled in his arms. Despite the sound of madness all around, this beautiful little girl remained perfectly silent. While her mother cried, knowing their lives would soon end, this child had no idea anything was even wrong. She barely had a chance to know life.
Give it your best shot, old man, Smith thought. What have you got to lose?
The young mother already looked like the infection was getting to her.
“I’ll do what I can,” Smith finally said, and stood up with the baby.
Just around the corner of the tank room was the engineers smoke room. Smith carefully shimmied along the wall and ducked through the door. A stoker lay in the center of the room covered in soot from head to toe. He smoked from a pipe and stared up at the ceiling, his lifebelt lying on the bench beside him. Three stools and a small circular table had fallen over into a heap in the corner.
“Well, look who it is,” said the stoker, noticing Smith enter. “I didn’t know you had a baby, Cap.”
“It’s not mine,” said Smith. “What are you doing in here?”
“Where should I be? Out there? Can’t a man enjoy one last smoke?”
“I suppose,” said Smith. “Are you gonna use that lifebelt?”
The stoker smirked. “For what...to die slowly? Take it if that sort of thing suits you, I reckon I’ll stay right here.”
Smith hurried over and grabbed the lifebelt with his free hand. Then he left the engineers smoke room with the same careful method in which he had entered, leaning at an angle against the ship and staying close to the wall.
He stopped at a railing that separated the first-class promenade section from the second-class. The infected man who had attacked the baby’s mother had become caught against the railing. Instead of passing by him, Smith chose the safer route, down a flight of stairs between the reciprocating engine casing and the third funnel.
A door at the bottom of the stairs led out to a hall that connected the first-class lounge to the first-class staircase. The lounge down on the right was completely underwater, so Smith continued straight through another door back outside and on to A-decks partially open promenade. Many of the large windows had been opened to help with the loading of the boats, but now only a handful of passengers remained on the deck.
Smith carefully crossed over to the outer edge and looked out u
pon the water. Most of the boats were far away, but there was one he thought maybe he could reach.
“Are you ready for this?” he asked the baby in his arms, and then waited for the ship to sink a little further before leaving it for good.
LIGHTOLLER
Lightoller and Bride helped hoist more swimmers on to the overturned boat, many of them crew members. They were determined to get as many people on the back of the boat as they could without disrupting the balance. They had fifteen on board right now, and more were coming.
Suddenly, a collective roar echoed into the night as the lights finally went out, thrusting the ocean into darkness, and leaving the ship merely an outline against the star-spangled sky.
Upset by the new darkness, the Titanic made a loud bellowing sound like a gigantic sea monster.
“Christ, what is that noise?” asked Bride.
“Her back is breaking,” answered Lightoller.
The ship began to split between the third and fourth funnels. Wooden decks splintered apart. Metal railings twisted into new shapes. Glass shattered and fell inward. The cables connected to the two remaining funnels snapped and flew forward like fiery whips, slicing a number of passengers into two pieces. Then the third funnel collapsed into the water and a huge gash opened through each deck and down into the hull, sending the stern, and the hundreds of frightened passengers assembled there, rushing back down to the ocean.
The water hurried to fill the split bow, forcing it downward at a sharp angle. The ship’s propellers once again lifted out of the water as the stern was slowly pulled back upright.
Except for the sound of the water splashing at the base consuming the ship, the night was soundless. Those passengers who had managed to hold on during the sterns sudden plunge, no longer screamed or cried out anymore, as though they had all decided as a group to hold their breath. Lightoller and everyone hanging on to overturned collapsible B, as well as all the other lifeboats scattered around witnessing the Titanic go down from different viewpoints, all joined in on the moment of silence.
A moment that would change them forever.
One they couldn’t turn away from.
One they would never forget.
The stern stopped straight up in the air and seemed content to just rest there for a spell before beginning its final descent. Less than a minute later, the Titanic was gone, the stern’s flagpole the last thing to go under. Large pockets of air rushed back to the surface causing the water to bubble up for many seconds after the ship had disappeared.
The moment of silence officially ended.
The cries of those left in the water were heartbreaking to hear. People begged for the boats to return. Some even blew whistles. In no time, however, their cries developed into a mash of noise like a crowd at a train station, making their individual voices less audible.
Lightoller helped three more helpless souls in the water on to the boat, two of them passengers and one more crew member, and could see another slowly swimming up. Unlike the majority of others they’d rescued, this one didn’t have a lifebelt on. Instead it floated out in front of him like a raft. As the man got closer, Lightoller saw why.
There was a baby bundled up in a blanket lying on the lifebelt to keep it from getting wet, and it was being guided across the water toward collapsible B by the most senior officer of the Titanic.
“Captain, is that you?” asked Lightoller.
“Good to see you again, Charles,” Captain Smith said, approaching the edge of the boat. “I have something for you.”
“That’s incredible.”
Smith pushed the lifebelt up against the boat so Lightoller could reach down and pick up the baby. “Isn’t she wonderful?”
Lightoller looked down at the princess in his arms. “Aye. She sure is. Now it’s your turn.”
Smith had a hand on the side of the boat but made no motion to climb on.
“Come on. We’ll make room, won’t we boys?”
“Yes, captain, please,” another crewman said.
“You go on ahead. Save as many as you can.”
“Don’t be foolish,” said Lightoller. “Will you not save yourself?”
“No, I’m sorry. I saved her. That’s enough. See to it that she lives a long life.”
Lightoller nodded. “Aye, aye, sir.”
The captain let go of the boat and began swimming off. A moment later, he turned back and yelled, “Good luck, gentlemen. I’m going to follow the ship.”
They watched him swim away until he was just a speck on the dark water.
BROWN
Lifeboat six.
“We need to go back. We can’t let all those people freeze to death,” Margaret said. It had only been ten minutes since the Titanic sank and already the voices of those in the water grew faint. “There’s plenty of room for a few more.”
“If we go over there, they’ll swamp us,” Quartermaster Hichens shouted. “They’ll pull us under! Don’t you get that?”
“The only thing I get is that you are a selfish little coward,” Margaret replied, and then addressed the other passengers in the boat. “Those people out there breathe the same air as us. Somewhere they got someone who loves them, someone who is gonna miss them. Maybe that someone is in this very boat. Maybe it’s you.”
“Most of those people are already sick and dying,” said Hichens. “They can’t be saved, but they could kill all of us. Have you already forgotten the trouble we went through? I don’t expect anyone wants a repeat, madam.”
Earlier, a few passengers had become unresponsive, appearing to have died, only to wake not long after wanting to eat their blanket buddy. From the look of the other lifeboats around, this had occurred a lot, as most had their numbers brought down immensely by the hidden infected.
Fortunately for boat six, just two sick souls snuck aboard, and with the help of a few others, and an oar, Hichens had them quickly banished from the boat. He had been so proud of himself.
“How shameful,” Margaret replied. “Trying to scare people. Have you forgotten what happened after we ejected them from the boat? They sank like a stone, that’s what. They can’t swim. And if they have a lifebelt on, they still won’t be able to get into the boat unless we let them. So what are you really worried about?”
“Don’t argue with me. I’m in charge of this boat. It’s our lives now, not theirs.”
Margaret hung her head for a moment, upset no one else would stand with her.
“I know some of you got husbands, don’t ya? Well, where are they? They sure ain’t here beside you. Are you really gonna sit here and do nothing while your men die out there? I don’t understand it.”
“I swear,” Hichens huffed, “if you don’t shut your ugly trap, I’m gonna shut it for ya!”
“That’s quite enough,” a stoker said from the back of the boat. “That’s no way to talk to a lady.”
“Sonny, don’t worry about me,” Margaret said, calm as could be. “I’ve dealt with much worse than this one. In fact, I’m just itchin’ for him to give me a reason to throw his ass overboard.”
Hichens settled back, noticeably concerned with the threat.
By the time Margaret was able to convince most of the boat to go back on a rescue mission, it was probably too late anyway. The cries and calls to return had all but stopped, and the night had become dead quiet.
Not far away, Fifth Officer Lowe in command of lifeboat fourteen rounded up four other boats, tied them together, and then safely transferred his passengers to the other boats. Then Lowe and a few crewmen went back through the sea of corpses to search for survivors. Even from a distance, Margaret could hear Lowe call out repeatedly if anyone was alive, wishing she was able to help.
“It’s no use,” Hichens muttered. “Going back for a bunch of stiffs.”
As the hour passed, everyone on board boat six began to lose confidence they’d be rescued. They could drift out for days, hundreds of miles from land, with no food or water, and only the clothing on thei
r backs and a few extra blankets to protect them from the extreme cold. But then—
“What was that?” Margaret asked. She had seen a faint glimmer of light to the southeast, and then a boom. “Could it have been a rocket?”
“Maybe a flash of lightning,” said another woman, sipping liquor from a flask.
“Nonsense,” Quartermaster Hichens said. “It was a falling star. Best not to get your hopes up, anyway. May I have a drink of that?”
The woman with the flask took a long swig and then said, “No, you may not.”
Lifeboat sixteen floated close by, and so Hichens ordered the two boats to be tied together and left to drift. All the while, Margaret kept a close eye to the southeast for another glimpse of light. Fifteen minutes later, she saw one. It was just like the first, only brighter, the boom, louder.
“That’s no falling star,” she said.
Everyone kept their eyes peeled to the southeast. There was no doubt now a steamer was coming their way, firing off rockets. Then the light from its masthead slowly appeared out of the darkness.
Fourth Officer Boxhall in boat two closest to the incoming steamer lit a green flare to get their attention.
“They’ve come to rescue us,” a young woman exclaimed.
“Or to pick up bodies,” Hichens replied.
“You want to volunteer one, go right ahead,” Margaret said. “But I’m with her. We need to stop drifting, and start rowing.”
“Be calm, woman. I’ll say what we do.”
“Ya know, I’ve had about as much of your mouth as I’m gonna take.” A dozen other women shouted their support. “We’re taking over. We need to cut these boats loose and start rowing. If nothing else, it’ll keep the blood circulating.”
“You won’t do nothin’ of the kind,” Hichens protested. But nobody was listening.
Margaret ordered a man in boat sixteen wearing only his pajamas to cut the ties holding the boats together. Quartermaster Hichens plodded across the boat to put a stop to it, but the Colorado millionaire stood in his way.
Titanic With ZOMBIES Page 14
