Richard Brown - Titanic With ZOMBIES

He made it to the fourth table before his foot slipped causing him to fall off, and the axe to fly out of his hand. The table fell over too, but thankfully not on him.

In spite of the slight pain in his back from the fall, the plan had worked well. He had managed to cross most of the open space, leaving the majority of the horde in the dust, and the staircase to C-deck just yards away.

The axe had slid under the table in front of him, trailing blood along the way. He hurried under the table, grabbed the axe, and then crawled out the other side. As he stood back up, he felt relieved to have the axe back in his hands. Then he put it in someone’s chest, smashing apart their ribcage.

He chopped two more down on his way around the corner of the staircase, and then decapitated another who had sadly tumbled down the stairs in a rush to get a quick meal. At the top of the stairs were double doors that led out on to the forward well deck.

The thirty-two degree air outside hit Lightoller like an angry ex-lover, made worse by his sopping wet clothing. But he was glad to be free of the confined quarters below, glad to see the stars again lighting up the night sky.

He went up a series of staircases on the port side, delighted to finally pass some people who weren’t infected, all the way up to the boat deck. First Officer William Murdoch was right at the top of the stairs helping load lifeboat two.

“Speak of the devil,” Murdoch shouted, seeing Lightoller walk up bloody axe in hand. “We thought you were dead.”

“As did I, more than once.”

Murdoch handed a baby over to a woman sitting in the lifeboat. Lightoller instinctively took notice of any infected nearby. There were none in the general vicinity, but he watched as a few further down deck surprised a crowd of unsuspecting passengers.

“Where is Moody?”

“He didn’t make it,” Lightoller said. “We got cornered.”

“That’s a shame,” Murdoch replied. “Well, I’m happy to see you. We could use the help.”

“It looks like it.”

“I don’t think the ship can stay up much longer.”

“No, it’s filling fast. I barely outran the water.”

“I can tell.”

“How did all this come about?”

“Oh, you don’t know? We hit an iceberg on the starboard side. Thing apparently came out of nowhere, and we’ve been going down by the head ever since.”

“Unbelievable,” Lightoller said, looking out at all the lifeboats in the distance.

“Right, you’re gonna freeze to death if you don’t change out of those clothes. Also, if you still have your gun you might want to pick your shots wisely because we ran out of ammunition.”

Lightoller shook his head. “I left it behind. But I got this,” he said, holding up the axe, “and it’s been getting the job done. Excuse me.”

He went to his cabin not ten feet away on the left and quickly changed into a dry, blood-free uniform, including a new coat, and then returned to the deck to help Murdoch lower lifeboat two.

BROWN

No one said a word.

There was nothing to say.

There was nothing to do.

They had stopped rowing out some time ago, and now they sat rocking back and forth in the water, snuggled together for warmth, watching the massive ship and all their loved ones they had left behind be slowly swallowed by the Atlantic.

Minute by minute, the bow sunk further and further down, until finally the water came up over the railing completely submerging the forecastle and well decks, marking the beginning of the end. The white front anchor crane disappeared below the surface not long after, with the foremast and attached crow’s nest being the only thing left visible on the bow. Because of the forward pressure, the stern would now start to rise at a quick pace.

Margaret shared a large blanket with two others, frozen in shock. It had all happened so fast. Just over two hours ago, she had been lying in bed reading, waiting for the calm comfort of sleep to take her. Now she was wide-awake, tears welling up in her eyes even as the frigid air tried to fight them off, listening to the screams and cries of less fortunate passengers who knew their deaths were forthcoming—viewing the disaster from afar like an audience member to some mass execution. The fact that the ship’s lights remained on, making the demise of so many easier for her to observe, was all the more unsettling. But there was nothing she or anyone could do but wait and pray it wouldn’t last much longer.

So she sat there quiet, feeling guilty for being in a lifeboat, for having a family to return to, for being blessed with wealth.

For the unfairness of life.

SMITH

“You have done a great service, and should be proud,” said Smith, bracing himself in the doorway of the wireless room so he didn’t fall backward. He had come one final time to relieve Jack and Harold. “There is nothing more expected of you. In times like these it is every man for himself.”

“Captain, you don’t have a lifebelt on,” remarked Harold Bride. “What are we to make of that?”

“Not a thing,” Smith replied. “Save yourselves. My retirement is written in stone.”

He left the wireless room and sauntered back on to the boat deck, passing the orchestra. They finished playing Songe d’Automne, and then as a team used their violins and cellos in a way they had never imagined—as weapons. They fought strong and hard against a particularly bad outbreak of infected that had taken over most of the boat deck, and like so many others, eventually lost the battle.

Captain Smith crossed over to the port side, observing the continued chaos and loading of the final lifeboats. All sixteen numbered boats had been launched, along with collapsible C. Pittman, Boxhall, and Lowe had all safely made it off the sinking ship and in command of a lifeboat. Moody had not been so lucky. Murdoch and Lightoller’s fates were very much undecided, as they were still on deck about to launch collapsible D, constantly fighting off the onslaught of infected.

“Mr. Lightoller, it’s your turn to go,” said Smith, approaching the pair.

“Not damn likely,” Lightoller replied. “I can still be of help here, captain. We need to free the two remaining collapsible boats from their lashings before they go down with the ship.”

“We haven’t much time.”

“We have to try, sir.”

Smith nodded. “Go ahead.”

LIGHTOLLER

He climbed on to the roof of the officer quarters where collapsible B was tied up, and then began splitting the ropes with his trusty axe. On the starboard side, crewmen had set up oars at an angle against the roof to gently slide boat A down. A moment later, they shrieked as the oars slipped away and the boat fell on top of them.

Lightoller hacked away at the ropes, feeling the ship begin to descend at a faster rate. The water had now poured over on to the promenade deck and within minutes would approach the bridge. On the boat deck, the screams and cries of hundreds of passengers intensified, as they trudged around the blood-spotted wooden deck in utter terror. Some decided not to wait any longer and jumped off the side of the ship, choosing a cold death over becoming a warm meal.

He had one more rope to split and the boat would be free. As he shifted around to the front, he looked out at the crow’s nest and saw what looked to be a man and a woman huddling inside. Since the infected couldn’t climb ladders, the nest was no doubt an excellent place to hide out early on, but unfortunately for the two lovebirds, things had changed. The icy cold water now posed the biggest threat, and in no time would follow through on it.

He kneeled beside the final rope and then flinched at the sound of a loud bang behind him on the port side.