Voyage in Time: The Titanic (Out of Time #9)

by Monique Martin

  Niels’ eyebrows went up and he pushed out a breath. “I stand corrected.”

  Simon started toward the bedroom. “Do you know where your life vests are?”

  “Under the bed.”

  “Go get them and come right back.”

  They nodded and started for the door.

  “And don’t forget about Kimball,” Simon called after them.

  They exchanged worried glances, but nodded again and left.

  Elizabeth followed Simon into the bedroom. He knelt down onto the floor and pulled out two white canvas life jackets. He looked at them briefly and shook his head. They were wholly inadequate for what lay ahead. But they were all they had. He held one out to her.

  “If, for some reason, you should have to jump into the water,” he said, and then quickly added, “which you won’t, but if you do, take it off first. The cork is so buoyant that when you hit the water the whole thing will slide up your body and smash into your head.”

  He looked down at the jacket he still held. “Many of the dead they found wearing these died from broken necks.”

  He tossed his lifejacket onto the bed. When he looked at her, the pain and fear for her was palpable. It took her breath away.

  She nodded quickly. “Got it.”

  “Good,” he said and she saw him gather himself. “Right. Well, once the others come back, we’ll go up to the Boat Deck and get you on a lifeboat.”

  “Us on a lifeboat.”

  He nodded. “Right.”

  Elizabeth started to go back into the sitting room to wait for the others when Simon held her arm.

  “I’m sure we’ll all get through this,” he said, “but on the off chance we don’t …”

  Elizabeth shook her head. She didn’t want to hear this.

  “I know,” he said and cupped her cheeks. “But if this is the last moment I spend alone with you, I want you to know how very much I love you. How lucky I am to have met you.”

  The catch in his voice was more than she could take. “We’re going to be all right,” she said, willing herself to believe it. “We’re—”

  He pulled her to him and kissed her then. Her heart raced in her chest and her fists wound into his lapels, pulling him closer.

  “We’re back,” Edmund called from the other room.

  They eased out of the kiss and Simon pressed his forehead against hers for a moment. Then he kissed her forehead, and she could feel the goodbye in it. But before she could argue with him, Edmund poked his head into the doorway.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” he said, waggling his eyebrows.

  Simon cleared his throat and turned away, ostensibly to pick up his lifejacket, but she saw him scrub his face with his hands before he did.

  “We’ll be right out,” he said.

  Edmund nodded and left them alone.

  When Simon turned around, his face was grim. “We should go up on deck.”

  Elizabeth put her hand on his chest. It was her turn to stop him. “Before we left you said that the survival rate for First Class was 97%, for the women. What about the men?”

  He frowned thoughtfully. “Not quite so good.”

  Her heart tightened in her chest as her hand tightened on his arm. “How not good?”

  “One out of three.”

  “Died?”

  He shook his head. “Survived.”

  That took her breath away. Simon, Niels, Edmund. One out of three.

  “We need to get you up on deck,” he said.

  “Us. Get us up on deck. Right?”

  He took her hand and kissed it, but he didn’t say anything. He merely gave her a faint smile and continued toward the sitting room.

  ~~~

  Passengers started to gather on the Boat Deck, but there was still no sense of panic, no sense they believed the ship was actually in trouble. Some had dressed hastily and thrown robes and wraps around their shoulders, while others looked dressed for dinner. None among them was in a state of panic, not even a state of worry.

  The night was cold but calm. There was no wind to speak of, no sense of movement at all. The ship sat peacefully in a nearly motionless sea. It felt solid, unperturbed, and the passengers took their cue from that, from the ship itself.

  Many didn’t even bothered to come on deck and remained in their cabins; some even went for drinks in the lounge or passed the time as they normally would, sure all of this was nothing more than a drill.

  The quiet murmur of the crowd was punctuated by the loud roar and hiss of steam escaping as it fled the boiler and shot out one of the funnels. They’d all heard similar sounds before, steam engines did that, like a train at the station shooting steam out from its sides. But now, cutting through the quiet, and louder than she’d ever heard before, it sent another shiver up Elizabeth’s spine.

  Nearly an hour after they’d struck the iceberg the order came, and the crew began to man the lifeboats, preparing them for launch. Even then, the crowd stood calmly and quietly by, their ranks slowly swelling as more and more people came up from below to join them on deck.

  A crew member stepped away from his duties and addressed the crowd. “All women and children get down to the deck below and all men stand back from the boats.”

  Simon turned to her. “That’s you,” he said and managed a smile. “On both counts.”

  Even though Elizabeth knew about “women and children first,” it still took her a moment to process.

  She shook her head and gripped his arms. “I’ll wait with you. We’ll all go together.”

  “Elizabeth—”

  “I’m not going.”

  “You see,” Sheridan said. He and his family had come up on deck with the others. “She’s not going. Now, stop being so dramatic about it. The ship’s not going anywhere. There’s more danger out there than there is here.”

  Louise looked frightened, but nodded and looked at Elizabeth. “If you’re not going …”

  She put her arm around Emily and pulled her to her side.

  “It’s not safe to stay,” Elizabeth said.

  “But you’re not going, are you?”

  Elizabeth could hear it in her voice. The plea. Please, tell me I’m wrong. Please, help me.

  Elizabeth wanted to explain, to say it was different for her, but it wasn’t. It wasn’t different for her. She had a child to protect, too.

  She turned to Simon and looked up into his anguished eyes. “I am,” she said finally. “I’m going.”

  The relief and pain in his eyes at saving her and losing her in the same moment nearly broke Elizabeth’s heart. But it kept beating, louder and stronger.

  She turned to Louise. “We need to go downstairs.”

  “Don’t be foolish,” Sheridan said.

  Louise managed to find strength and straighten her back as she stood up to her husband for the first and last time. She held out her hand to her daughter. “Come on, Emily.”

  The girl hesitated, but took her mother’s hand and the two of them went back inside to make their way down to the deck below. Sheridan watched them go and then glared at Elizabeth before turning and walking away.

  Crew members stood in the lifeboats, coiled rope, and rearranged the large heavy oars. Sailors stood by the pulley ropes and manually began to lower the nearest boat. The rope lurched as they let it slip through the cleats and the massive boat inched its way downward.

  “You need to go,” Simon said.

  She nodded, but made no move to do so. She just wanted to look at him, to be with him and forget about the rest. But a sudden burst of light from the forward deck and a hissing roar drew everyone’s attention. Every face on deck turned upward to watch as the flare arced high into the night sky. It burst into a shower of falling stars. They floated down to the surface of the black water and disappeared, blinking out of existence.

  The rocket flare seemed to ignite the passengers’ fear. They were all still outwardly calm, but Elizabeth could feel it now. The shift from disbelief to belief. A flare m
eant only one thing—distress. And now they were all beginning to feel it.

  “Elizabeth,” Simon said, with more control and calm than she thought possible under the circumstances, “it’s time.”

  Time to say goodbye, time to go, time … why was it always time?

  He reached into his jacket and took out the watch. He held it out to her. She wanted to tell him to keep it, that she wouldn’t use it without him, but the silent plea in his eyes kept her quiet. Elizabeth took it and tucked it into her coat pocket.

  She looked back up at Simon and swallowed down the fear, fear for him that was swelling up inside her, and pushed out a calming breath. He looked down at her, all the love he had for her in his eyes. She tried to capture that moment, to hold it inside her. She kissed him and closed her eyes.

  Finally, he eased her away.

  “I’ll see you soon,” she said.

  He could only nod.

  She didn’t think she’d have the strength to take that first step away from him, but she did. She passed Edmund and Niels who stood nearby, but a few paces back to give them privacy, and tried to smile at them both.

  “Look out for each other,” she said.

  They nodded. Edmund managed one of his broad smiles.

  “Don’t you worry.”

  If she hadn’t been so close to being sick, she might have laughed. Every inch of her was worried and would be until she saw them all again. She reached the door to the inside and paused. She told herself not to turn around. She never did listen well, though, even to herself, and turned. Even among the growing crowd, he stood alone—tall and handsome, and everything in the world she loved. She held his gaze for one last lingering moment, gave him one last smile, and then turned away. She could feel him watching her even as the door closed between them.

  The lifeboat had been lowered to B Deck where it dangled just outside of the railing. By the time Elizabeth got there, the first was full and the order was given to lower it. She could see Louise and Emily were aboard and gave them a small encouraging wave.

  Elizabeth waited her turn as lifeboats systematically began to be lowered for loading. Somewhere above her, she could hear the band playing.

  She could see a few of the already launched lifeboats in the water. Oars churned the smooth sea as they rowed away from the great ship. One was half empty. Each empty seat a life lost.

  She urged one of the men to fill the boats to bursting, but he was too busy to listen. The crew helped women and children climb over the railing and settle onto the wooden planked seats. A few men were mixed in, some to help man the boats and some just forced their way on. But even here, even now, people were almost supernaturally calm. The crew commanding and the people happy to follow orders.

  Finally, it was Elizabeth’s turn. At the last moment, she almost ran for it, ran to Simon, but she held fast. One of the crew members helped her clamber over the railing and another helped her to a seat in the back of the boat.

  Slowly, it filled to capacity and the order was given to lower it. The men on the lines must not have been working together because the bow of the boat jerked down about three feet while the stern stayed where it was. Everyone in the boat lurched forward, some tumbling out of their seats. The other side quickly caught up and they jerkily made their way toward the water.

  As they were lowered, Elizabeth could see passengers from the other decks, peering at them through the windows, haunting faces she’d never forget. Finally, her boat reached the water and the crew worked to untie the ropes.

  Once they were free, the men sank their oars into the water and moved them out into the open ocean. Elizabeth looked up at the top deck straining to see Simon one more time, but she couldn’t and the boat slowly moved away, farther and farther away and into the darkness.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  SIMON FOUND AN OPEN space along the railing and leaned over looking for a glimpse of Elizabeth. His heart lurched when her boat nearly toppled over as it was lowered. But finally, it reached the sea safely. He watched as the men rowed it away from the ship until it was swallowed by the night.

  He turned back and saw Carrillo move to stand in line to get onto a boat. Typical, he thought. Then he noticed the man shoving something into his jacket pockets. A diamond bracelet dangled there before he quickly pushed it in with the rest.

  Simon knew that bracelet. It was Elizabeth’s.

  “You,” he said as he pointed at Carrillo and strode over to him. “Where did you get that?”

  He grabbed onto Carrillo’s wrist and wrenched it free of the pocket. The bracelet and a necklace spilled out onto the deck. Carrillo looked around nervously and bent down to pick them up.

  “That’s my wife’s,” Simon said as he snatched it from the man’s hand. Then he grabbed him by the lapels. “You stole these.”

  Carrillo, his cowardly nature all too apparent now, shook his head.

  “There was a necklace with a key,” Simon demanded. “Where is it?”

  “It’s worthless,” Carillon said, as if that mattered to Simon.

  “Where is it?” he asked again, wasting precious time.

  Carrillo shook his head. “In my room—”

  Simon shoved him away and glared at him. His room. The key was in his room.

  “What number?”

  “A-6, but—”

  “There aren’t enough!” a man yelled. “Don’t you see? There aren’t enough boats?”

  Simon turned toward the commotion.

  Someone had finally done the math. Even if each boat were filled to capacity, half of the souls on board would still perish.

  “We’re going to die!”

  Simon turned back to Carrillo, but he was gone, disappeared into the crowd.

  This single spark of panic lit a small fire and others joined in until there was a chorus demanding to know what the crew was going to do. One man pushed another out of the way and jumped into one of the already lowering lifeboats.

  “Panicking isn’t going to help,” Simon said as he tried with others to restore calm.

  Thankfully, the episode was brief and isolated, and order was quickly restored. Some of the crowd moved to the other side of the ship as most of the boats on the starboard side had already been lowered.

  Time was starting to run out. Simon and the others would have to leave soon, but first he could get the key. Travers be damned.

  As the crowd thinned, Simon walked back over to the doorway where he’d left Edmund and Niels. As he emerged on the other side of the gathered passengers, he saw Edmund slumped against the bulkhead, holding his side. He was alone.

  “What’s wrong? Where’s Niels?”

  Edmund, his face pale and pinched with pain, managed to stand up straight with Simon’s help. He shook his head. “I don’t know. We were just standing here when that man yelled out and the next thing I know …”

  He opened his jacket, wincing as he did, to reveal a blossoming bloodstain in his side. Then Simon saw the bloody knife at Edmund’s feet. He’d been stabbed.

  Simon winced in sympathy. “How bad is it?”

  Edmund ignored the question.

  “I called for you, but …” he said, then shook his head.

  Simon couldn’t hear him over the commotion.

  “Dammit.” They’d been so close. “Did you see where they went?”

  Edmund shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

  Simon nodded and then put his hand on Edmund’s shoulder, turning him toward the flow of traffic. “Get yourself on a boat.”

  Edmund shook his head. “It’s not that bad.” He stood taller and on his own to prove it. “They can’t be far.”

  No, but they could be anywhere, Simon thought. He could have taken Niels anywhere, but he wouldn’t. There were people just about everywhere on this ship right now.

  “Think, man,” Simon said to himself. “If you wanted to kill someone where would you go to do it?”

  “I don’t know. The hold?”

  Simon sh
ook his head. It was too far, too complicated to get to. He’d want something quick, easy. And suddenly it dawned on him, and he ran inside and down the stairs.

  “Where are we going?” Edmund called out after him as he struggled to catch up.

  “His room!”

  They ran down the stairs, shoving past crowds on the way up until they got to C level where Simon came to an abrupt halt. He knew Kimball’s room was here, but which one? He tried to remember as he stared down one corridor and then the next.

  “Which way?” Edmund asked.

  Simon shook his head and tried to remember. “Twenty-seven, no … wait. Seventy-seven!”

  “That’s this way,” Edmund said, and they ran down the hall.

  They came to a stop in front of C-77 and Simon tried the door. It was, unsurprisingly, locked.

  He stepped back and kicked the door by the handle. The locks on Titanic’s staterooms were feeble and it gave way in an explosion of wooden shards.

  Kimball turned at the interruption. He was holding a pillow. Was he going to smother him? Simon started forward when Kimball tossed the pillow aside and Simon saw the gun beneath it. He had the gun cocked, ready to fire, but Edmund came in right behind Simon, something Kimball hadn’t expected. The distraction forced him to make a choice. He chose Edmund. Simon reacted, shoving Edmund out of the way. The bullet chewed into the wood panel where his head had been.

  Kimball seemed surprised he’d missed and that moment’s vanity cost him. Simon lunged at him, reaching out to control the gun as he did. Simon grabbed it with his left hand.

  The gun went off just as Simon was able to push it aside. The bullet hit the lamp on the desk. The lightbulb exploded and the lamp fell to the floor.

  Taking advantage of the moment, Simon drove forward and shoved Kimball hard up against the dresser.

  Kimball fought back, trying to regain control of the gun when Edmund wrenched it from his grasp. He took a step back, held it up and cocked it.

  Kimball paused, his eyes searching for a way out. Simon shoved him backward.

  Kimball, his lip bleeding, half-smiled. “You don’t have the guts.”

  “He doesn’t have to,” Simon said as he stepped forward and hit Kimball flush on the jaw. His head spun around and hit the dresser with a loud crash. He paused, his cheek pressed against it, like a cartoon, then he slid to the floor unconscious.