Cold All the Way Through, But Warming

Lusitania

Will, his face still stinging from his aftershave, came back downstairs. Ana had moved to the table, Rigel's front legs draped over her lap as she hugged him. A bottle of whiskey sat in front of her, and Will brought a couple of glasses. He poured them both a good amount, and brought out the paper and a pen. "You talk, I'll write. Later, I'll write Oscar's letter about Alfred; you can write your mother."

"Alright." Ana muttered, sipping her whiskey. "We were up on the promenade deck."

"Alfred, that's a-" The end of my sentence was drowned out by the explosion of the torpedo, the lifeboat behind us disappearing in the cloud of water, splinters and steel that roared into the sky. I gasped as Alfred knocked me to the deck, throwing himself over me as the crowd of debris rained down over the both of us. Rigel, caught underneath me, struggled to try and get loose. I could hear the patter of the debris falling to the deck, and it was only a moment before Alfred got off me and roughly hauled me to my feet.

He was pale, and his voice shook. "They got us."

"They did." I stumbled to the rail, ignoring where it had been blown away not far from me. I could see where the torpedo had impacted, a massive tear in the steel skin of the ship that the ocean was greedily forcing its way into. The ship was already heeling over to starboard, the weight of the water dragging us down. My mind wanted to hide from the sight, to forget that April night where I couldn't see the tear but the result was still the same. I wanted to scream, to cry, to beg God for it to not be happening again. But the scream was caught in my throat, my hands shaking.

A second explosion sounded, and I gripped the rail tightly as the deck shuddered and bucked underneath my feet. Alfred grabbed me as a cloud of steam seemed to rush up from the base of the funnel, tinged gray by something that I couldn't think of. I could barely breathe, and had a death grip on Rigel's leash as Alfred dragged me away from the railing.

His hand fumbled along the wall of the superstructure, looking for some way out of the choking cloud of steam. When he felt the doorknob he seized it, throwing me inside before him. He was panting as he sucked in the clean air. "How bad was it?"

"Bad." I coughed, trying to catch my own breath. "The hole in the side, it's massive."

He looked down the hallway, more people coming in from the deck. "We're getting off, where's your cabin?"

"Just down here." I started forward, Rigel trotting after me and Alfred in our wake. I could hear something echoing down from the bridge above us, shouts and curses. I paused, my ears straining to listen closely.

Alfred stopped too, "What are they saying?"

"We can't steer." I pursed my lips, forcing my feet to move. "More than likely the engines are gone." It made it easier to deal with if I forced myself to think of exactly what was affected by the torpedo. If I thought clinically, I could force out the memories of April three years ago that were just below the surface, digging its fingers into me. "The electricity will probably go soon; we need to get to the boats."

Alfred cursed, "We should get people off the damn elevators before they get stuck." As if he was being mocked by the divine, the lights above us flickered and died. That led to screams from the other passengers, and even I felt my breathing speed up. The massive list had settled somewhat, flooding below evening the ship out.

But my cabin was right there, and I threw open the door. My lifebelt was sitting on the bed, and I raced for it. The ship was beginning to list again, and several vases of flowers had crashed onto the floor. Alfred ignored those, moving to my trunk. "Is there another of those?"

I knelt beside the bed, pulling another out. "Yes, what are you doing?"

"Any jewels?" He had thrown my trunk open, tossing my clothing aside. "Money? Stocks? Mementos?"