Chapter 35
Will stared at the water swiveling outside the porthole above his head.
He had an irrational fear the glass would break and the sea would rush through.
Irrational for one because the porthole was shut tight and waterproof, and two, because the situation inside his little closet wasn’t much better.
Water had been steadily pouring in through the closed door—too far away to open it and call for help—and had already reached about two feet above the floor, touching the cupboard he’d pulled himself on.
He’d tried everything with the metal cuff shackling him to the pole. It was an unusual design; no chain or lock visible, only a solid band, although he could see a tiny crack where the piece snapped together. But he couldn’t pull himself out, not even by dislocating his thumb.
His last hope, last prayer, as the icy water began to swallow his feet, was that Emmeline had found Leon, and he took care of her and got her onto a boat. He’d do that, wouldn’t he? Perhaps, if they got lucky, he could get onto a boat himself. Be there for her when Will no longer could.
He’d left his daughter angry at him, instead of hugging her, when he’d last seen her. If only he had his watch now, to travel back just for this, to tell her all would be well and that he loved her.
Something banged on the door, shaking him out of his thoughts. “Hello?”
“Will?” a feminine voice outside said. Who, still on the ship, would call him by his name?
The door splintered as the edge of a hatchet buried through it. Two, three more hits, enough to make a crack a few inches wide. A face appeared behind it. “Will!”
He blinked, unsure if he was hallucinating. “Emily?”
“Holy shit. You weren’t joking!” Her face retracted, and she hit the door with the hatchet again. “Give me a second. I can’t open it because of the water.”
This couldn’t be real. He was dead already, surely, or well on his way there because there was no chance Emily was on the Titanic.
“What are you doing here?”
“Reenacting at least two movies, apparently.” She grunted as she hit the door again, then kicked at it, until she’d made a gap large enough to squeeze through.
“I mean, how are you—”
“Long story,” she said. “Did you know your daughter was a time traveler?”
He nearly slipped from the cupboard. “What?”
“I’ll explain everything.” She waded to him, raising the hatchet. “Stay clear—well, as much as you can. I’m gonna break the cuff.”
“What are you—stop!” He raised his free hand. “That won’t work.”
“But it worked in the movie! And since you decided to pull a Jack after all …”
“You’re not going to break it with a hatchet. We need …” He glanced around. Nothing of use in here. “A crowbar, to wedge between it. They should have one in the engineer’s workshop. It’s down below—”
“G Deck, aft, I know.” She pulled a scroll of paper out of the almonite bag strapped around her waist. “I have ship plans. I’m getting us out of here, Gramps.”
He still couldn’t believe she was here. But she touched his shoulder, and the touch seemed very real, even if her hand was cold.
“I’ll be right back.” Before he could respond, she blinked out. Water swirled in a trail toward the door and down the hallway as if someone had waded through it moments before.
Time freeze. Emily could freeze time again. Emily could time travel again.
Will occupied his thoughts with that—it was preferable to watching the surface rise—but arrived at no sensible conclusion. Over the years, they’d done everything they could think of to reactivate the almonite in Emily’s body, to no avail. What had changed?
She was back in about two minutes and appeared in front of him, now holding a crowbar. “How do I do this?”
“See the crack in the cuff? Wedge it in there. No, the other way around. Now pull toward you.”
With a clink, the cuff came off and plopped into the water. Will shook out his wrist, red and sweaty from being squished within the metal. He was free.
“Oh, Gramps.” Emily hugged him tight. “Come. We have to get out of here. Wait, how did you even end up cuffed?”
“It must’ve been the officer. Kinsley. He hit me on the head. I’ve no idea why.”
“Did you steal his fiancée or his prized necklace?”
“What? No, I—I’m married.”
“Come.” She took his hand, and they slowly started pushing through the water. “You said you met him on the bridge beforehand? He’s one of the senior officers?”
“By the looks, yes. Why?”
“I checked the crew list. There’s no Kinsley on it.”
“Maybe the list is incomplete.”
“Or maybe he’s a rogue time traveler who wanted to witness the Titanic going down, and he didn’t like you trying to mess with that.”
He still didn’t understand Emily’s references, but God, had he missed her.
Emily paused with her hand on the plans and scrunched her nose. “You don’t think it could be him, do you?”
“Who?”
“The man who’d injected me, preventing me from time travel. He made a trap for me, and for you, because he thought Ross would get you. He tried messing with your parents, too.”
It was so long ago. Will couldn’t recall the sliver of the man’s face underneath the hood he wore when he injected Emily. He couldn’t match it to Kinsley. And for Mother, it’s been even longer. Besides … “Why would he want to do that? Strike again now, and in such a strange manner?”
“I don’t know.” Emily shrugged. “Maybe he really doesn’t like you.”
They had no time to focus on some time traveler’s random grudges. “We need to get out.”
“I’m working on it.” She spread the deck plans, holding them to the level of her chest.
“And get Emmeline.”
“Oh, about that. Remember how I said she was a time traveler? Yeah, she’s not on the ship anymore. Okay, if we’re on E Deck …”
“What do you mean, she’s not on the ship?”
“Up the stairs to the third class promenade.” She folded the plans and started dragging him to her right.
“So, here’s the deal. You may have noticed I can time travel again.
So can Emmeline. And you might think, wow, that’s a big coincidence, isn’t it?
But it’s not.” She looked over her shoulder at him. “It’s all got to do with babies.”
“Babies?” He waded past a floating piece of luggage, quickening his pace to come in stride with her.
“I’m pregnant.” She gave him a quick smile. “Was hoping to break the news in a more celebratory fashion, but here we are. Congrats, Gramps, you’re going to be a great-great-great-great-grandfather.”
For a moment, he was struck in awe; then he shook his head. “And you came here, on a sinking ship? Are you out of your mind?”
“Always.”
“But your baby—”
“Is going to be fine. There were plenty of pregnant women on the Titanic that made it out all right.” She laid a hand on his shoulder. “Trust me, I’ve got this.”
“And James let you come alone?”
“He had no other choice. I needed two watches: one for me, one for you since you don’t have yours. And I’m the one who can freeze time and phase through walls.”
They headed up the stairs, and Will couldn’t be more grateful to leave the freezing water behind. “So, how do babies explain it all?”
Emily stopped briefly, peeking through the open door on the side of the wide hallway they’d turned into. Beyond it was a shaft with a submerged catwalk. Emily bit her lip, then shook her head and led them away.
“I never told you, but the first time I saw Emmeline, her finger colored blue, the way mine and yours do if we come in contact with almonite,” she explained as they neared an open space with two sets of stairs leading up.
“I think you didn’t get all the almonite out of Sylvia.
No offense to your methods—they were very good for the times—but I think a speck of it remained, and when she got pregnant with Emmeline, Emmeline absorbed it.
” Emily paused on top of the stairs, draining the water out of her pants.
“She was born a time traveler, but a different one, perhaps because of how Sylvia’s almonite had mutated, perhaps because of the … manner of delivery.”
“But Emmeline had never time traveled in her life. She’s never even held a watch.”
“She’s started now. And she can go to wherever she wants. Not just in time, but in space. She could blink from your house to the other side of the Atlantic.”
“And your case?”
“The baby.” She continued to lead the way up another, narrower set of stairs, catching herself on the railing as the ship’s list angled the stairs more steeply toward them.
“He’s doing the same thing Emmeline did to Sylvia, but instead of sucking up my almonite, he’s sucking up the substance blocking it. ”
“I’ve never heard of that happening to anyone else.”
“The substance came from the batch we got from Sylvia, right? A few vials went missing. Maybe that one worked differently. And it would explain why it works specifically on me and Sylvia—well, Emmeline.”
They skipped the last few steps and burst through the door, out onto the open well deck. Will paused to appreciate the stars for a moment; he thought he’d never see them again. It was unbelievable how beautiful the sky could be on such a horrible night.
Emily nudged him and pointed over his shoulder. They were closer to the forecastle now, and the ocean was already licking its sides, splashing over the railing.
“Up on the promenade deck, quick.” He took charge, racing up the stairs to a deck just in front and below the bridge.
To the side—around the corner—up the crew’s stairs to the enclosed promenade.
Just this morning, it had been bustling with passengers, lounging on the chairs, children running along it.
Now, the deck chairs had all skirted to the side, and scattered passengers milled about, strangely complacent, as if they’d given up already.
Why would they have given up already?
Then they ran to the deck above, where Will had seen his family off what seemed simultaneously an eternity and merely seconds ago, and he saw why those men were only strolling about, waiting for the sea to come take them.
Emily looked around and, her tone shifting closer to desperation, voiced his thoughts. “There are no boats left.”