by Holly Hook
A line appears across the chains and grows deeper under the wing as I slice. I can't believe it. This is working. I slice away for a couple minutes as Isabel watches. She looks confused. I'm not sure why. I send a silent thank you to Arnelia for making us such a Swiss army knife.
The chain comes undone, flopping against the gate. I slide it open, careful not to make it squeak too much. Some crew members must still be awake this time of night. Not everyone on the ship can sleep at once.
"I can't believe that worked," Isabel whispers.
"We had better hurry," I say. My heart pounds at the thought of facing Frank. What if we can't find him before we get off the ship? The police will take him away and eventually, he'll find a rift to jump through.
"I think the officers had us in a room around the second corner," Isabel says.
"I agree." I lead the way through white walls and tiled floors. My head pounds with the stress. A sound echoes down the hallway up ahead. It's--
"Footsteps," Isabel says. She grabs my arm and pulls me to the wall.
I can't tell where they're coming from--but they're getting louder. Someone's running down the corridor that we need to head down. Someone in a hurry. I hold my breath.
And then they stop. The person sighs.
It's a familiar sigh. I peek around the corner.
Simon stands in front of the door where they held us a couple of hours ago. He peeks inside and his shoulders slump.
"Simon," I whisper. Cool relief washes through me.
He jumps and faces me. How did he get away from the officers? He must be here, searching for Frank as well. I wonder if he's reached the same conclusion we have.
"Is Frank in there?" I ask.
Simon shakes his head. "How did you get in here?"
"Simon?" Isabel asks. We emerge from the corner.
"Yes. It's me." He grins. "I convinced them to let me go when I told them that Frank threatened to stab us if we didn't do the prank. Two of the crew members did see him try to do that, so they backed me up. I think the fact that we did hit an iceberg after all had something to do with them letting me go."
"Do you know where they're keeping Frank?" I ask.
"They must be keeping him somewhere behind the bridge if he's not in here," Simon says. "I was checking to see if they'd moved him here, but I guess he's coming across so crazy that they want to keep him supervised. I wanted to check up there, but the officers led me out and told me to go back to my berth."
"At least you're free." Isabel shifts leg to leg.
"Frank's going to be stuck up there until we get off the ship," I say. "What do you think will happen when we dock? They'll have to take him somewhere."
"I think he's safely locked away for now," Simon says. He draws close and my heart flutters. "We have time to figure out what to do once he's free."
Simon only has my Timeless memories. He doesn't have any of his. He's the most in the dark here. I have to tell him. "As soon as he finds a rift, Frank will go back and make sure the Titanic sinks all over again. As long as he stays Timeless, he'll be able to go back again and again until he succeeds. He has infinite chances to kill us. We need to go steal his memories, find wherever there's a rift on this ship, and go through ourselves. Then, we have to stop him from ever becoming Timeless in the first place."
Simon's mouth falls open. "You're right," he says. "I haven't thought about it that way.”
"And only Frank will have a memory of where there's a rift on the Titanic," Isabel adds.
It's our only chance. Frank's memories won't tell us where the rifts are in New York when we arrive. Our chances of finding another by ourselves is almost nothing.
"Which direction did he come from?" I ask Isabel. We have to start narrowing this down. "When he confronted you, I mean?"
Isabel shudders. "I can't be sure. I didn't know he was following me until I had lured you into the corridor."
Any hope of avoiding another struggle with Frank flattens and dies. "We head up to the bridge, then. At least, the captain might be busy getting us towed to land or figuring out how many days it's going to take."
Simon nods. "I know the way."
* * * * *
He leads us through another series of corridors and higher through the decks, to D deck and C deck and eventually, B deck. We encounter two more gates on the way up, but I use Arnelia's hair clip to cut away the chains on each one. They're going to discover this tomorrow morning when most of the crew is roused and going about their duties. At least they'll never suspect that a girl with a pretty butterfly hairpiece will be the main suspect. Unless they think I've stolen it from the first class.
Simon holds a finger to his mouth as we walk to a set of elevators, complete with gates. We're in first or second class now. There's green carpet here along with plants. Somewhere, a man laughs. It's someone who should be dead and on the bottom of the ocean now. Or floating in the frigid water, stiff.
"Will this be loud?" he asks me, pointing his thumb at the elevators. He's trusting me with the knowledge of the ship. “I used the stairs on the way down.”
"I'm not sure," I whisper. I've never used them. "We can try. It's not like there are many people around."
We call the elevator down and board. Thankfully, no one comes running at the noise. The cage closes around us and we head up into the top deck.
"It's four thirty." Simon's checking his pocket watch. "We don't have long to do this. Once daybreak hits, the crew will be everywhere."
The elevator stops and the gate opens. We're standing before the Grand Staircase. We're in the heart of forbidden territory. Simon and I aren't allowed in First Class. Isabel is technically a stowaway. She's supposed to be here even less than we are.
My heart races. The last time I saw this, in a version of the world that now doesn't exist, icy water was filling up the column of the Grand Staircase, lapping at my shoes. Frank had that knife pointed at me while Melvin screamed in my arms.
"Julia?" Simon asks. He gently takes my arm.
It does something to calm me down as we step closer to the staircase. I let out a breath. There's no danger here. It's beautiful, spiraling down through the ship like a wooden piece of DNA. There's no water. Only precious air and silence reigns here.
"Sorry." I turn to search for the entrance to the bridge area. I know it's close. "We need to move." Then I spot it. There's another golden gate across a doorway that leads to a stark white hallway. It's the entrance to the bridge and the officers' quarters. I remember now, even though I've never been in there. Frank's somewhere inside.
"Quiet." Isabel walks up to the gate and strains her ear. "I hear distant voices," she whispers, "but I think they're closer to the front of the ship. We can cut through this and slip in quietly."
She's right. Two men talk somewhere. They're muffled, like someone having a conversation at a neighbor's home.
My pulse thrums again. This is our one chance. Frank must be in one of the officers' quarters if they're keeping a close watch on him. I take the hair clip and angle the wing. Slice at the chains. I go slow, afraid to make any noise.
Minutes creep by. My palms sweat. At last, the chain falls away and hits the gate with a metallic plink.
Simon slides the gate open. It squeaks. We slip into the crew area. I close the gate behind me and slide the chain around it to make it look whole. It won't do to have someone walk by and find it tampered with.
Placing the hair clip back in my pocket, I face the hallway we now stand in. Doors line it. Someone snores on the other side of one. Many of the crew are asleep. The voices are louder. Someone must still be up, manning the ship and communicating with the outside world. Much of the crew must be below decks, inspecting the damage. We probably aren't moving any closer to New York right now.
“We stay together,” Simon says. “Check doors.”
I grab for the first one. Twist the knob and slide it open. There's a cot, but no one's inside. I check the next. Again, no one.
&
nbsp; “Frank's probably not in one of these,” I say. I slide open a third door. “He's--”
There's someone in a black uniform on the floor.
I push the door open all the way and step in. The officer looks up at us. His hands are bound with cuffs and he's gagged with a white cloth. The sheets of his cot are strewn on the floor, the remnants of a struggle. I know what's happened.
The three of us cram into his quarters. He tries to say something through the gag. I lean over and untie it. The man catches a breath. I don't care that we're not where we're supposed to be right now. “Was that crazy man in here?” I ask him. “Where did he go?” Frank must have been kept in here, cuffed and supervised by this officer while the rest of the crew went down to inspect the damage. Frank took the opportunity and used a mind trick on this officer, convincing him to unlock the cuffs. Then Frank tied this guy and left him. He could be gone by now, through another rift and away from us, and now we'll never be able to catch him.
“I don't know what happened,” he says. His eyes dart around in confusion as he stands. He swallows. “I was guarding him. He was sitting here one second...and the next, I found myself on the floor, bound.” He takes a breath. “What are you kids doing in here? Are you with him? What did he do?”
“We're not,” I explain. I glance at Simon. He nods. Isabel backs out of the doorway. We have to go and we have to leave this officer cuffed. It's not like we have a choice. Frank must have the key. “We have to catch him. We'll tell someone you're here.”
I push past Isabel and out of the quarters. The voices up by the bridge are louder. The man calls for us to come back.
“Where do you think he went?” Isabel asks. “He couldn't have gone through the gates. They were both locked, unless he stole the keys for those, too. He must be close.”
Then I hear.
“Do it,” Frank orders. His voice is a scary calm as it echoes down the hall. “Reverse the ship, turn it to the left, and scrape the side of that iceberg.”
Another man says something in protest, but Frank repeats his command.
A scream rises up inside me.
Frank hasn't gone for another rift after all.
He's already trying to set history back and kill us all.
Chapter Five
I search around for a weapon. There's nothing. We should be able to knock Frank out. If we can do that, we can extract his memories. What if the crew up here is already steering the ship back at the iceberg? It can't be far. We haven't moved much since hitting it head on.
I can imagine the history books after this. The Titanic hits an iceberg, then gets steered into it a second time after crew members get drunk or go crazy. People will speculate about what really happened for years to come, not knowing that an immortal influenced them to do it.
Simon's already running for the bridge. The tied officer calls after us again, but I ignore him and follow.
We enter the bridge. It's just like the time we entered the bridge of the Wilhelm Gustloff. Only this time, only Frank and two crewmen stand here. Both crewmen face us, eyes glazed over and dazed. One has his hand on a lever. It's between Stop and Reverse. Frank's unarmed and without cuffs. He whirls around to face us.
And curses.
He's outnumbered. There are too many of us for him to do a mind trick now.
“What are you doing?” I ask, even though I already know. I'm tense, ready to dodge him. We have to get him trapped or still.
"My duty!" Frank shouts. Spittle flies. "I'm never going to avoid my duty again. So much hell came out of that."
I have to keep him talking while we think of something. "You mean your duty to protect Time?"
Frank breathes heavily. "You don't know anything about my life!"
One of the officers shakes his head, free of the mind trick. He blinks several times. “This man is insane. He's strange. Get away from--”
“Move!” Frank shouts at him, lunging for the lever. He shoves the second officer out of the way. Even though he might not know what he's doing, he's going to try sinking us himself.
But before Simon and I can go for him, Isabel does.
She runs into him, beating her fists. Frank falls back, pulling on the lever. It falls back to Reverse. The vibration of the ship starts again under my feet. Isabel screams obscenities at him. One of the officers runs for them and grabs Frank's arm. Frank roars and punches him. The man staggers backwards, gasping for breath while the other officer moves in to attack. He's holding a revolver. But Frank's ready. He shoves Isabel away and tackles the man. They go down and the revolver falls to the floor, sliding underneath a counter. Frank wraps his hands around the officer's throat. The officer struggles for breath. He's turning red. Frank's going to kill him.
I search around for a weapon again. I find only a broom in the corner. I seize it and dodge around Simon, who's trying to pull Frank off the officer. The man on the ground is turning blue. My mind's gone blank.
I take the broom and ram the handle into Frank's side.
Frank grunts and grabs at his ribs. The officer gasps for air and sits up. Color returns to his face. Simon pulls Frank up by the back of his shirt and rams his knee into his chest. Frank gasps and sucks in air. “Now!” Simon shouts at me.
The butterfly.
This is our only chance.
I pull it out of my pocket. Frank's stunned, his eyes unfocused. Simon's arm quivers with the effort of holding him up. I almost drop the hair clip as I fasten it to Frank's head. I rub my finger over the metal body and Frank groans as it begins to download his memories. His eyes fly open all the way. He's getting the tingling on his scalp and with it, the realization that we're not giving up on this yet.
“No!” He tears the clip off his head and throws it. It lands somewhere behind the lever that's still stuck on Reverse.
Frank breaks away from Simon and runs at me, pulling his fist back. I dodge away, hitting a control panel and pressing myself against the glass window of the bridge. I raise the broom, but there's no hope of defending myself against and immortal. Simon calls my name and rushes up behind Frank. He won't get here in time.
A shot rings out and Frank falls, landing face-first in front of me. Isabel screams. One of the officers stands behind him, holding a smoking pistol. His mouth's dropping open. The other officer runs towards Frank, who bleeds gold on the floor. I feel like I'm going to vomit. I've seen Simon in this state before.
For several seconds—or it might be minutes—I can't move. Frank's blood pools around him, spreading away from his chest. The bullet must have gone all the way through his heart, so it's knocked him out completely. His blood sparkles like glitter in the bright light of the bridge. If I didn't know better, I'd guess that it is glitter.
“Julia.” Isabel's busying herself picking up the butterfly hair clip from the floor, as if she can't bear to look Frank like this. My heart goes out to her. She used to love Frank and maybe a part of her still does. “I think we got what we needed. We need to do something about him.” She gives a quick nod towards the body on the floor, the body that should be dead but isn't. She's right. Frank will get back up.
"What?" the officer sputters. He stares at the golden blood expanding on the floor and faces his comrade. "What?"
I break my dumb paralysis and pull myself away from the window. "We have to throw him overboard!" I yell. "He's going to get back up and try to kill us all!"
The officer shakes his head and stares at the other man. The second one nods. He's very pale. "I think we should do that," he manages.
I grab Frank's arm, holding my nausea back. Simon takes his other one. We drag him towards the doorway of the bridge while one of the officers pulls back on the lever to stop the ship. They don't know what to think, but we can't worry about that now. Frank will recover any second. We leave a golden trail along the floor for everyone to see. He won't be able to escape the icy ocean for a long time. That's my hope. At least he'll be off the ship and unable to come after us again until anothe
r vessel passes and rescues him.
Frank groans.
"We should tie something heavy to him," Simon says. He pushes open the door to the outside and grunts as he pulls Frank through. We squeeze through and the officer with the pistol comes out behind us. Our breath spirals into the dim early morning light. Dawn's approaching.
"What is he?" the officer asks, opening a gate for us. "He fell from the crows' nest and survived, and now you say he's going to survive this?"
There's no point in lying. The three of us are going to leave the ship shortly, anyway. "He's an immortal," I tell the officer. "The Titanic was supposed to sink tonight and kill fifteen hundred people. The three of us here changed the course of history, and this man--a member of the time police, basically--wanted to set history back to its original course."
The officer stares at me, eyes big. He shakes his head and opens his mouth like he's going to say something.
Frank groans again and stirs. He's leaving no more golden trail on the stairs now. His wound has closed.
"Shoot him again," Simon says.
The officer stops on the stairs. "But he's--"
"Do it!" Isabel yells from behind him, and turns away.
The officer raises his pistol just as Frank lifts his head and pulls against us. I close my eyes. The shot's deafening. I feel Frank lurch. He sags in my grip again. I open my eyes to see fresh golden blood bubbling up from his back. Gun smoke burns the inside of my nostrils. The second officer's running out from the bridge now, his own pistol ready.
“Toss him over,” I say, waving to the railing.
Simon and I huff over to the side, lift Frank, and let him dangle head first over the rail. The ocean spreads out below, dark and deadly. He groans and then screams. He's still conscious. I know exactly how he feels and I'm glad that he's experiencing what I would have if he'd had his way.
We let go.
Frank plunges through the early morning and into the icy Atlantic with a small splash that ripples white, then disappears.