Alice stood in the boat as it swayed precariously over the water. She shrieked, reaching out for Mutt and the master, but the lifeboat was already being lowered into the water. “Papa!” she screamed. “Mutt!”
A woman sitting on the bench in the lifeboat took Alice’s hand, and Alice dropped down beside her, sobbing and crying out for Mutt and the master until Mutt could no longer see the boat. But he could still hear her calling out for them. Mutt whined, laying his ears flat against his head and wishing he could shut out the terrible sound that tore open his heart.
Alice!
Mutt looked back at the master, who wiped away the tears in his eyes with the back of his rough, fisherman’s hands. The master whispered, “That was the last boat, Mutt. My little girl is saved, but I’m afraid we are not. That was the last boat.”
CHAPTER 21
MUTT
Monday, April 15, 1912
2 AM
The final lifeboat had been lowered into the water, taking Alice and any hope Mutt had of going with her to the New World with it. The deck was now slanting so much that it was almost as if they were back on the hilltop at home, looking out over the Solent. Mutt had to dig his claws deep into the wood to keep from sliding toward the bow, which dipped closer and closer to the water with every passing second.
Passengers still crowded the railings, looking down at the water and trying to find some way onto a lifeboat. Some climbed over the railings and jumped into the sea to try their luck swimming to a lifeboat. One man with a slightly crazed look in his eyes ran along the deck, throwing every single deck chair and loose piece of furniture he could lay his hands on into the water so that those already in the sea might have something to cling to. Many of them probably couldn’t see far enough past the crowd to realize that all the lifeboats were gone.
But Mutt knew the truth: All they had left was the smallest of hopes that another boat might come to their rescue before it was too late. Mutt watched Alice’s boat row away from the doomed ship for as long as he could to make sure she was safely away. Even above the clamor and chaos of voices around him he could still hear her crying out for him and her father.
Mutt turned and looked up at the master beside him, to see what they would do next, but the master was no longer there. Another man dressed in similar clothes and battered brown boots had taken his place in the mass of humans. The crowd pushed forward, pushing Mutt with them, squeezing him against the edge of the ship until he could barely breathe. He tried to wriggle his way free, but there were too many of them. Too many legs and bodies forming a barrier between him and the master—wherever he was. Mutt took a deep breath and tried to make himself as tall as he could; then he barked and growled at the humans closest to him, baring his teeth and snarling as they glanced down, surprised to see a dog at their feet.
Slowly, slowly, they moved aside, afraid they might be bitten, and Mutt finally broke free. The boat lurched suddenly downward another few inches. Deck chairs and humans alike slid down the promenade and into the freezing water, which had now risen over the bow, moving farther and farther up toward the crowd. Mutt’s mind flashed back to when he was a pup, and the absolute terror he had felt at being in the water, almost drowning. His stomach flopped.
Mutt frantically sniffed the air for his master’s scent, but his nostrils were overwhelmed with the smell of blood and sweat and fear. Then he remembered the two collapsible lifeboats at the back of the ship. The master had worked on boats all his life, and Mutt thought maybe that was where he had headed. Mutt ran up the ever-increasing incline, along with some humans who had the same idea or were just trying to stay out of the water as long as they possibly could. Below him on the steerage deck, more humans were doing the same, clinging to railings or ropes or anything else they could get their hands on. Some climbed on top of each other’s shoulders to reach the higher decks.
The lights flickered, and all went black for a moment. Screams filled the air, and it seemed this was it—the final descent into the big blue. Mutt held his breath.
But the lights flickered on again. Mutt pushed on, passing a group of humans standing before a man dressed in black robes, like the reverend at Alice’s church. Their eyes were closed and they knelt on the deck, listening to the man’s prayers, even as chaos erupted all around them. Then, just as Mutt passed by, one of the enormous steam funnels gave way, crashing down into the deck with a deafening crack. When Mutt looked back, he could no longer see the group.
The force of the crash seemed to have pushed the ship farther down, and although Mutt could see the back of the ship rising out of the water, he knew he wouldn’t make it in time. The deck continued to rise until it was almost vertical. Mutt slid back down, only stopping when his rump landed with a loud thud on the stained-glass window of the humans’ gymnasium, which was now horizontal.
Mutt froze, not daring to move in case he lost his footing or the glass gave way beneath his paws. Still, the back of the great ship continued to rise. Out in the big blue, Mutt could see the lifeboats lit by bright lanterns—most of the boats only half full—rowing away from the Titanic rather than toward the hundreds of humans who were already in the water.
The lights on the ship flickered once more, and this time, they went out for good. Mutt felt a surge of panic seep into his body as his eyes adjusted to the pitch-black night. He struggled to get his bearings.
Mutt stayed low, crawling across the narrow ledge toward the edge of the ship as the Titanic sank, lower and lower, into the churning black water below. A terrible noise like metal being crushed echoed around him, and Mutt whimpered. He dug his nails into the wood, his body freezing in terror, afraid that the ship might disappear beneath him at any moment, to be replaced with nothing but endless water.
There were two choices, Mutt told himself, chancing a quick glance over the edge—go down with the ship, or jump into the water. He didn’t much like his odds either way. The surface of the water was covered with debris from the broken ship—chairs and trunks and crates. A single deck chair floated almost directly below, but it was so very far down now. Mutt wasn’t sure he could make it without breaking all of his limbs, or worse.
Mutt’s thoughts raced through his head. He had to make a decision. He couldn’t stay on the ship much longer. As soon as it went down, he would be pulled beneath the surface. He raised his front paws onto the railings. He had to jump. Jump or fall or drown. Not much of a choice, but maybe if he did make it, the lifeboats would come back….
Mutt closed his eyes. He tried not to think of how cold and wet the water would be, or about the fact that he didn’t even know whether he could swim. It had seemed simple enough when he’d seen other dogs at the beach do it—casually moving their legs back and forth in the water. But Mutt wasn’t like other dogs. Mutt hated water.
Huge splinters started to run across the middle of the deck, crackling like breaking ice on a frozen pond as the weight of the sinking ship became too much to bear. The Titanic ripped apart into two halves. As the stern started to fall back toward the water, almost in slow motion, Mutt recalled a prayer that Alice’s mother used to make Alice recite every night before she went to bed. He didn’t know much about what it was for, or why she did it, but it seemed to bring Alice’s mother comfort.
So he took one final, deep breath, hoping it would not be his last.
And he jumped.
CHAPTER 22
CLARA
Monday, April 15, 1912
2:15 AM
The captain held Clara tightly in his arms as the water rose rapidly beneath his feet, lapping against the glass window of the bridge. It wasn’t something that he often did when they were at sea—hugging. Usually they each kept to their own duties: the captain at the helm of the ship, and Clara making sure that the animals on board were kept in line, and usually chasing and eating the rats who had sneaked on board. She felt the strangest twinge of regret about wanting to eat Mutt’s rat friend.
The frigid water breached the bridg
e, rushing into its open sides to surround them as the front of the ship dipped farther forward and the stern rose out of the ocean. The water crept to the captain’s knees, then up to his waist in a matter of seconds. Clara tried not to focus on it. Or the fact that out on the deck beside them, anything that wasn’t held in place slipped into the water. Clara closed her eyes and rubbed her head against the captain’s fluffy white beard, breathing in his scent one last time as he hugged her closer to him, whispering that he was with her, that he wouldn’t let go, while trying to keep his balance as the floor beneath them moved down, down, down until they were almost vertical. The ship paused for a moment, bobbing like a buoy in the water.
Then it lurched forward, throwing the captain and Clara toward the window, but still he did not lose his grip. The water raged around them, engulfing them as the ship sank farther and farther. As though it were being gobbled up into the dark depths below.
Clara took a deep breath, telling herself to be strong. To be brave. She gave the captain a final, small meow to let him know that she was with him. That she would be by his side until the very end.
Her beloved captain.
And as the water rose up to meet them, the captain gave Clara a kiss on the head and said: “Farewell, old friend.”
CHAPTER 23
MUTT
Monday, April 15, 1912
2:17 AM
The air was knocked out of Mutt’s lungs as he hit the freezing water. He narrowly missed a human who was grabbing frantically at anything he could get a grip on. Mutt paddled quickly out of his way before the man decided to use him as a life preserver. Mutt had been aiming for a deck chair he’d seen floating on the surface but had misjudged his landing. The deck chair had glided out of his reach with the small wave he’d created as he hit the water.
Mutt frantically moved his legs back and forth as fast as he could, managing to keep his head above the water as splashes echoed around him—tens, maybe hundreds of humans following his lead, taking the only option they had left, unless they chose to go down with the ship. It wasn’t much of a choice. Mutt thought they were probably all doomed either way, but if he could somehow get to a lifeboat or cling to something, he might have the slightest of chances.
His breath came out in fast puffs of white. The faster he tried to paddle, the more he felt himself being weighed down, unable to catch a breath. He spun around, searching for something—anything—to grab hold of before exhaustion dragged him down beneath the waves.
He caught sight of a flash of white in the darkness ahead of him and forced his stiffening limbs to keep paddling. It was one of the life jackets most of the humans were wearing, but this one was abandoned. Or maybe it had slipped off whoever had been wearing it. Either way, Mutt didn’t wait for someone else to claim it. He dragged one of his front paws out of the water to grip the jacket with his claws, then the other. It wasn’t strong enough to hold his entire weight, but it at least gave him the chance to pause for a moment to catch his breath and decide what to do next.
Just as Mutt finally managed to drag in a deep breath and feel his racing heart calm a little, there was a deafening splash behind him. The force threw him forward. He clung desperately to the jacket, feeling his grip loosen. A hand caught Mutt’s tail, pulling him beneath the surface as he tried to hold on to the life jacket in the vain hope that he could somehow keep both of them afloat, but it was futile—he barely had the strength to keep himself up, let alone a human.
Water closed in over his head as Mutt sank beneath the surface. His lungs screamed with the desperate need for air as he kicked his legs wildly. He tried not to take in any water, and at the same time to hold back his terror and the memory of what had happened to him as a pup. Just as he felt himself losing hope, an image of Alice’s face flashed before him. He had to fight. He had to get to Alice—he was all she had left. But the man would still not let go, so Mutt did the only thing he could, hoping it might save them both. Mutt turned and sank his teeth deep into the man’s hand, yanking it upward in the direction of the surface.
The man immediately released his grip and swam back up to the surface. Mutt kicked his legs hard, trying to follow, but he lost his bearings. All he could see was darkness in every direction, and he could no longer tell whether he was pushing himself up or down or was just swimming around underwater in circles. All he knew was that if he didn’t reach the surface soon, he wouldn’t make it.
Mutt’s vision grew darker, and distant lights danced a little way ahead, like fireflies calling to him to give chase. He didn’t know if they were real or not, but he followed the lights with every last ounce of energy in his stiffening limbs until, finally, he broke free.
The noise that greeted him was deafening. Hundreds of voices called out for help, splashing around in the water for something to hold on to. For some kind of rescue or savior that wasn’t there. Mutt saw a large leather trunk floating in the water close by, and he paddled over to it, with renewed hope burning in his belly. There might not be any lifeboats nearby, but for a dog, a trunk was just as good.
He dug his claws into the trunk and tried to pull himself up but slipped back into the water. He tried again, this time gripping a strap around the trunk’s center with his teeth. His claws scrabbled and scratched against the exposed leather until, finally, he pulled himself up and onto the trunk. He had made it! He was out of the water. He would have howled with joy had it not been for the fact that he was still lost and alone in the middle of the freezing big blue.
A series of small explosions went off in the water behind him as the Titanic’s great engines were submerged. Mutt spun to see the great ship standing almost upright in the water, its dark shape a silhouette against the brightness of the stars. The vast propellers that steered the ship rose high in the sky. It seemed to hang there for a moment, and Mutt thought it might not go down after all and would right itself, but as the last funnel collapsed and broke away, crashing down to sink to the seabed, the ship followed. The Titanic slipped quietly beneath the surface until it disappeared completely.
It had taken less than three hours from the moment the Titanic hit the iceberg to its being lost forever beneath the ocean. And now Mutt, and all those who still had air left in their lungs, had nothing but miles and miles of the big blue to cling to.
CHAPTER 24
MUTT
Monday, April 15, 1912
2:20 AM
Mutt lay on his side atop the leather trunk, his chest heaving as he coughed up water and tried to drag air down into his screaming lungs. The trunk bobbed in the water as small waves lapped against the sides. It would have been an almost-soothing sensation if Mutt hadn’t been so numb from cold that he could no longer feel most of his body. That… and the chorus of terrified voices that seemed to echo all around him. Fighting to stay afloat, to stay alive in the icy water.
Mutt searched for any sign of the great ship, but it had gone. Along with all the humans who had remained on board. Who didn’t have a choice. Along with his friends, Clara, his master, King Leon. Mutt still held on to the hope that King Leon might have found a way out; if anybody could survive, King Leon could. Mutt trembled as he tried not to think of it. Tried to focus on staying afloat. On breathing. On staying alive.
He couldn’t accept that he would never see his girl again. He felt a small spark of fire in his belly, born of his sheer will to stay alive. He had come all this way, faced the very worst of his fears, and he was still here. Somehow, clinging on. He couldn’t give up now. He wouldn’t. He would find his Alice again. She had no one else left now—he was all she had. He couldn’t let her live alone for the rest of her life. What would happen to her? Who would look out for her? Protect her?
Mutt forced himself to move his paws and wag his tail to get the blood flowing again through his limbs, even though his sodden fur was so frozen that there were tiny icicles hanging from the ends in silvery beads. When he could feel a slight tingle in his paws, he moved his legs. Then slowly, so slowly s
o that he wouldn’t rock the trunk or submerge it beneath the water, he rolled himself over and onto his belly with shaking legs.
He peered out into the darkness. With the lights of the great ship gone and no moon in the sky, it was hard to make out much more than the shifting dark shapes in the water surrounding him. He tried not to think of what they might be, instead focusing on his sense of smell and hearing, cocking his head to one side to listen intently for any sound that might mean salvation. For any lifeboats that might be close by. He looked for their lamplight but couldn’t tell whether the faraway twinkling of lights came from the stars or the boats far in the distance.
There! The smallest of sounds caught his attention, floating above the haunting noises around him. It was only because he had heard the very same sound only yesterday that he recognized it at all. The noise came again, and Mutt pushed himself slowly up onto his haunches, narrowing his blurry eyes to focus in the direction the sound was coming from. As he focused, it seemed to get louder, carried across the water by the slightest of breezes, and this time there was definitely no mistaking it—the high-pitched bark of a small, yappy dog.
Fifi!
Mutt tried to calm himself so that he wouldn’t make any sudden movements and sink his trunk before he had a chance to be saved, but he couldn’t contain his hope. The last time he had seen the yappy dog was with his owner, sitting inside a lifeboat as it was being slowly lowered into the water away from the doomed ship. The very same lifeboat that Alice had reluctantly been lifted into!
Survival Tails_The Titanic Page 9
