Titanic 2020 t2-1 (21 page)

P
edroza made them stand against the back wall of the storage room.

'No gold,' he said.

'No gold,' agreed Jimmy.

Claire just looked at him. Her bottom lip quivered.

'Plenty of bedding,' said Pedroza, nodding at the shelves.' Useful for muffling the sound of a gun.' Jimmy swallowed. 'You think you're very clever, don't you? Your great plan! Jab me with a needle, kill me, eh?'

'No,' said Jimmy, 'just put you to sleep.'

'So you say. Yet for some reason, the drugs don't work. Why do you think?'

'I don't know,' said Jimmy.

Pedroza reached down and plucked the syringe out of his left leg, then hurled it suddenly towards them. Claire let out a scream as it embedded itself in the wall just by her left ear.

Pedroza laughed. 'I'll show you.' He closed his free hand into a fist and punched himself in the leg. It sounded — hard, yet hollow. 'This leg is wooden. Lost it when I was a boy.' He moved to the other leg and kcnocked it as well. He pulled his trousers up a fraction to show a couple of centimetres of swarthy skin. 'This leg is flesh and bone. You picked the wrong leg, little children. So now I must kill you.'

'Why?' Jimmy asked weakly.

'Because you are my enemy. And because of you I killed fifteen people.'

'Me?'

'Both of you.'

'I don't under—' Jimmy began, but Claire cut him off sharply.

'The people in the freezer.'

Pedroza nodded. 'I was smuggling them to a new life in America. Their relatives were to pay me once I delivered them safely, but then you two stuck your noses in. If the Captain found them then I'd lose my job and go to prison — but they'd still get to America. That wasn't fair, was it?'

'What did you do to them?' Claire asked.

'I told them I'd managed to get them cabins, but that I had to take them one by one to avoid being discovered. So I threw them overboard, one at a time. Not pleasant, but essential.'

'You are . . .
evil .
. .' Claire whispered.

'All your fault.'

'No,' said Claire, 'no . . .'

'And now that I've told you, it is time for you to die as well.'

Pedroza raised his gun.

'Would it help if we said sorry?' Jimmy asked.

'No!'

'Is there
anything
we can do?'

'No!'

Jimmy had a sudden, desperate, last thought. 'Please — just wait a minute . . . It's important . . . listen to me . . . My granda used to tell me this story . . .'

Pedroza s brow furrowed. 'I do not wish to—'

But Jimmy continued right on, '. . . about this gang leader who caught two of his enemies. He was going to shoot them both, but then he realized that if he did that, there'd be no one to spread the word about what he'd done. So he just killed one of them . . . and let the other one go, and he told everyone he knew about how tough and ruthless this gang leader was, and nobody ever dared tell on him or challenge him again.'

Claire was staring at him, wide-eyed and incredulous. 'Is that supposed to help?'

'Well, I just thought, if one of us survives it's better than neither of us sur—'

'Quiet!' They both looked back to Pedroza. 'It's a good story. And wise. Fortunately I am already feared by everyone on the
Titanic,
and once we have refuelled I will kill everyone who does not support me. You two have been particularly troublesome, so I'm giving you the privilege of being killed first. So . . . which of you would like to die first?'

Claire glared at him. 'You are a cruel and horrible man. I hope you burn in hell.'

Jimmy knew what she was doing — she wanted to be killed first, as if it might somehow give him a better chance.

He wasn't having that. He nodded at Pedroza. 'You're not only cruel and horrible, you've got one leg missing, and the other one looks pretty crap.'

Claire wasn't going to be beaten. 'You're a violent, vicious, ugly little man and your children will be vicious and ugly . . .'

Jimmy cut in with: 'Your scrambled eggs taste like shit and everyone laughs at your cooking behind your—'

'ENOUGH!'

They fell silent.

'You
die!' He pointed the gun at Claire and squeezed the trigger.

Without really knowing why, Jimmy hurled himself at Claire, shoving her out of the way just as the gun exploded. The bullet thumped into his chest. There wasn't time to register pain, hear Claire scream or even to have a final thought about McDonald's. Everything just went black.

D
arkness.

Complete and absolute.

Jimmy couldn't tell if his eyes were open or not, or even if he had any eyes. He might just be a formless shape, floating in the universe. But no . . . he had hands — he felt his left with his right, and vice versa. He had legs.

Or
maybe I just think I have them.

He had read about people who lost their legs in road accidents, but could still feel them. Something to do with nerve endings.

I'm in a bed. I can feel the pillow, sheets.

Or I'm imagining them.

I am dead.

I know I am dead.

I have to be dead.

He remembered very clearly: pushing Claire out of the way of Pedroza's shot, feeling a dreadful pain in his chest and then . . . nothing.

OK — I was shot in the chest. If by some miracle I'm alive, there'll be bandages, tubes . . .

Jimmy moved his hand up his chest and felt — skin. No wound, no bandages, just his normal self.

That's it. I'm dead. I'm not in a bed. I'm not anywhere. I'm just . . . a thought. Or a soul on my way to heaven or hell. Or maybe there's nothing, and I'll just exist in this darkness for ever.

He didn't like that thought
at all.

He squeezed his imaginary eyes shut.

***

'Jimmy.'

Claire's voice.

No, she was dead. 'Jimmy.'

How mad would I have to be to start talking to a ghost?
'Jimmy — for goodness' sake, I can see you moving. Will you come out from under your blankets and talk to me?'

No. Once I start talking to imaginary creatures then I'll be lost for ever.

'Can you not give him some sort of an injection?' Claire said.

Then another familiar voice — Dr Hill's. 'No, Claire. He's still in shock, he'll come out of it in his own time.'

Jimmy felt for the corner of the blanket, then cautiously raised his eyes above it. The light was so harsh that he was half blinded and could only see two vague, shimmering outlines.

Lost souls like his own, or real live human beings? 'Ah, the sleeper awakes,' said Dr Hill.

'Only because you mentioned injections,' said Claire. 'He's a scaredy cat.'

Slowly, slowly, they came into focus.

It
was
them. It was Claire. She was alive! Which meant
. . . he
was alive!

He was in the hospital wing. The
Titanic's
hospital wing.

When he tried to speak his voice was ragged. 'I . . . don't . . . I was . . . Pedroza . . . what the . . . hell . . . is going on?'

Claire beamed down at him. Dr Hill took hold of his wrist and checked his pulse. Satisfied, he smiled at Claire and said, 'I'll leave you to fill in the details.'

As he left the wing, Claire sat on the edge of Jimmy's bed. 'What do you remember?' she asked.

'I . . . don't really . . . I . . . was . . . shot. . .'

'You don't remember the aliens coming down and encasing you in a bubble of ectoplasm?'

Jimmy stared at her.'
What?'

Claire cackled. 'Only joking. Jimmy, you saved my life. You threw me out of the way. You took the bullet that was meant for me.'

'I must have tripped.' He wasn't sure he liked the way she was beaming down at him. 'But . . . if I was shot I . . .' His hand felt about his chest, but it was still as wound-free as before. 'I don't understand.'

'Well, perhaps this will help.'

Claire delved into her trouser pocket and produced a small piece of twisted metal.

'Is that . . . the bullet?'

'No, Jimmy, it's the coin.'

'Coin?'

'Your lucky penny, Jimmy! Don't you see? Pedroza shot you in the chest, but the bullet struck the lucky penny in your pocket. The force of it knocked you out — but the bullet ricocheted right back at Pedroza and went straight through his forehead and killed him stone dead.'

'It
what?'

'He's dead, we're alive, we beat the hurricanes, the ship's back in the Captain's hands, the—'

'Hold on! Too much information! Just . . . slow . . . down . . .' Jimmy took a deep breath. He put his hand out and Claire dropped the battered coin into his palm. 'So it
was
lucky, after all . . .'

'Or
you
were. Or Pedroza was unlucky. Anyway, something worked. It knocked you out, and it killed Pedroza. It was horrible . . . but kind of fantastic at the same time. I got his gun and took it downstairs and slipped it to Jeffers when Dolphin wasn't looking, and then he put it against Dolphin's head and advised him to give up. And he did.'

'But . . . but . . . there were still all the other mutineers?'

'Yeah, but there was only about half a dozen of them who really, really wanted to follow Pedroza: most of them just wanted to get back to Miami as quickly as possible. They all have families, relatives, you know? So they didn't put up much of a fight, and now everything's back to normal. We've outrun the hurricanes, and we'll be back in Miami this afternoon.'

'That's . . . incredible . . . it's
fantastic!
Isn't it?'

'Yes it is. You saved my life.'

'Pedroza dead like that. . .'

'You saved my life.'

'And overpowering the mutineers . . .'

'You saved my life.'

'And even beating the hurricanes . . .'

'You saved my life.'

'Yes,' said Jimmy, 'I realize that.'

'I'll never forget it,' said Claire.

'All right.'

'Why did you do it?'

'Like I said, I tripped. Or fainted.'

'You jumped. You were going to sacrifice yourself for me.'

'I had every confidence in the lucky penny.'

'Jimmy Armstrong — you love me, don't you?'

Jimmy blinked at her. 'Are you sure
you
didn't get shot in the head?'

'You love me.'

'Claire — I don't even like you.'

That was harsher than he intended, but sometimes when you're cornered you say things you don't especially mean.

It had taken a lot for Claire to say what she said, and his instant rejection hurt. She flared up immediately.

'Why don't you get out of bed anyway? There's nothing wrong with you! For all I know you probably did trip! And I'm glad you don't even like me, because I'm getting off the ship this afternoon, and you'll probably never see me again. Do you hear me? You'll never see me again!'

She stormed out.

'
Well, Jimmy, what's it to be? Are you staying with us?'

Captain Smith stood beside him at the rail outside the bridge, looking down at the dock and the steady stream of people disembarking. They had been leaving like this for the past hour. Without even admitting it to himself, Jimmy was waiting to see if Claire really was leaving the ship. They hadn't spoken since their bust-up.

'I suppose I am,' said Jimmy.

'That's good. We've missed the newspaper these past couple of days, would be good to get it started again. I think it the passengers a lot. And the crew. At least those who are left.'

He had gathered everyone in the theatre shortly before the ship docked and told them that he intended to remain in Miami only as long as it took to refuel and forage for food supplies. He didn't believe the city to be safe, but he understood that many people wished to leave and they were free to do so.

'I didn't think so many would get off,' said Jimmy. 'It's safe here. Even after everything that's happened. Out there . . . isn't everyone dead?'

'We just don't know. Some places the plague hits, like St Thomas, it kills everyone, others — remember San Juan? — there are really quite a lot of survivors. Here, millions are dead for sure, but there will be survivors, there has to be, and if one of them is your son or daughter or dad, wouldn't you want to find them? Or just make sure they get a decent burial? I expect most will take a look around when they get ashore, realize just how bad it is, then get back here quick as they can. Others will try and make it home — might be twenty miles, might be two thousand. But they'll try.' They watched the line of disembarking passengers for several more minutes. 'Mr Stanford wants us to sail up the coast towards Texas; he's pretty certain we'll be able to refuel there. Then we'll just keep going from fuel depot to fuel depot, long as we can.'

'Does that mean the Stanfords are staying on board?'

'No, son. He hasn't the patience. He's going to try and get to the airport. He keeps a private jet there and he's hoping to fly his family out to the Midwest. They own a big farm — ranch, whatever you call it. Not too many people live out there anyway, so he reckons it will be safer than sticking it out on the
Titanic
or trying to make it in one of the cities.'

'But it's
his
ship. Doesn't he cares what happens to it, or to the people on it?'

'Of course he does, Jimmy. But he's done all he can do. He's letting us take the ship, he's brought as many passengers as he possibly could right back to port, and now he has to think of his family. I think that's only right.'

Jimmy understood. 'Do you have a family, Captain?'

Captain Smith took a deep breath. 'It sounds very corny, Jimmy . . .' he waved a hand across the prow of the ship, 'but this pretty much is my family.'

'No wife,' said Jimmy.

'Oh yes,' said the Captain, 'but she's an absolute cow. Don't tell anyone, but this plague is the best thing that ever happened to me. Now I've got an excuse not to go home to her.'

He winked at Jimmy, then turned and re-entered the bridge.

Jimmy knew he was only joking.

At least, he
thought
he knew he was only joking.

***

Twenty minutes later Jimmy spotted Claire as she left the ship with her parents. She had a pink bag slung over one shoulder.

'Claire!'

She didn't look up. He shouted again, but got no response. She was already too far away.

Well.

That was it.

She was gone.

Jimmy sighed.

Good. She was no friend at all. He'd be fine by himself.

He kicked at the guard rail.

And then he started running. He took the stairs six at a time. He moved faster than any elevator. By the time he reached the gangplank he could hardly breathe for the effort of it. First Officer Jeffers was on duty there, with a gun at his side, reminding everyone to check their watches.

'We sail at six, if you're coming back make sure . . .'

'Don't you worry, young man,' the elderly Miss Calhoon was saying, 'my watch has perfect time, and if by any chance I forget to check it, my Franklin will remind me.' Franklin was nestled in her arms. She raised one of his little paws and waved it. 'Won't you, darling? Franklin always— oh!' Miss Calhoon was spun around as Jimmy flew past. Franklin yelped and hid his little head, frightened.

'Jimmy, are you leaving us?' Jeffers shouted after him.

'No!'

Claire was now several hundred metres away along the dock, standing close to the main entrance to the passenger terminal, where, ordinarily, returning travellers would have had to pass through passport control then wait to retrieve their suitcases. But not today. The arriving passengers were hauling their own luggage, and there was nobody there to check their documents. They were back on dry land, but it wasn't the land they'd left. Doors blew back and forth in the stiff breeze, luggage carts lay upturned, cars abandoned.

Several bodies lay around the door itself. They were not only rotting, but they appeared to have had most of their flesh torn away from them. Claire stood clutching her father's arm as they looked down at them.

Mrs Stanford said, 'Dreadful . . . dreadful . . .'

'Claire.'

She turned. She tried extremely hard not to smile when she saw Jimmy. Her eyes were red-rimmed from crying.

'I'm sorry,' said Jimmy.

Claire shrugged. She looked at the ground.

'I wish you weren't going,' he said.

'I wish I wasn't going.'

'It's those ponies, isn't it?'

'No . . . Jimmy, why don't you come with us?'

'What? Where to?'

'Our farm. Daddy's going to fly us there.'

He looked at the ground. 'I can't.'

'But why not? We'll be safe there, I'm sure of it.'

'I can't, Claire. I need to stay on the ship. Captain Smith thinks one day he'll take her back to Ireland. It's the only way I'll get to see my family again.'

'But they're probably . . .' She stopped herself. 'I'm sorry.'

'I know they probably are. But still.'

'Claire.
Will you hurry up?'

It was her mother, standing in the doorway.

'Mum, it's not like we're going to be late for anything!'

'Don't be cheeky! Now hurry up!' Claire looked at Jimmy. Jimmy looked at Claire. 'So,' said Jimmy. 'So,' said Claire.

'I'm going to keep doing the paper.'

'That's good. No — that's great. I wish . . .' She sighed.

'Well. See you around.'

'Suppose.'

Jimmy nodded, then began to turn away.

'Jimmy?'

As he turned, she just jumped on him. She wrapped her arms around him and planted a kiss on his lips.

He didn't quite know what to do. So he kissed her back.