April 15th 1912 - 01:50am
Rose hid behind Thomas, not seeing Jack, but hearing his voice. He was alive? He was clearly a good actor. He'd have to be to get by on the streets for so long. After all, actors are just good liars. Perhaps that was the reason Rose wanted to be an actress. Lying to Cal by saying, "I love you" and "I want you more than anything" had taught her how to be a professional in the art of deception. "I was tired" when really she meant, "I was tired of being with you so I spent the night with Thomas." All of these thoughts, insignificant thoughts that seemed trivial given the circumstances, started rushing around in her mind, faster than the blood that was coursing through her veins, pumping at a fast and steady pace, terrified of the prospect of being shot. Would it hurt? Would the pain last? . . . does anything in this world last?
"Jack… please, put the gun down. We can talk about-"
"No! I'm done talking! All you 1st class bitches ever do is talk, talk, talk!" he snapped.
Thomas couldn't take his attention off of the gun as it was waved in the direction of his face like a stern finger. "Jack, you don't want to do this… this is all Cal's idea."
"You saying I can't think for myself?" Jack straightened his arm out and stiffened his muscles, keeping his aim locked at Mr Andrews who was just meters away from him.
"You're not like this, son." Thomas tried his best to calm Jack down and ease the situation… but it never worked.
"Stop calling me son! You're not my Dad! My Dad's dead and it's all my fault! . . . So yes, I AM like this . . . I have been since I was 13 . . . Since my folks died." He looked to the floor slightly, his eyes softening, his mind wandering... And then he came back, his snarling teeth and hateful eyes returning. "I killed them, and I'll kill you!"
"And prove the men that did THAT to you right?" Thomas pointed at his battered face. "Prove that you ARE the filth they think you are? You're playing right into their hands, Jack! Put the gun down and be the bigger man!"
Jack didn't reply. Instead, he lowered the gun and began walking out into the hallway, his arm uncovered by Cal's shirt sleeve, revealing the bloody wound caused by the axe, the horrible flaw exposed, quite like his tortured face. Tortured by his own perusal demons. Tortured by the authorities that had inflicted pain onto him for being scum in their eyes. Tortured by the fact that everyone had what he wanted… happiness.
As he advanced onto them, walking casually and calmly, brushing a controlled hand through his blonde hair, Thomas put his hands behind his back and grabbed Rose tightly, reassuring her that everything would be alright… truth be told, he had no idea what was about to happen. Rose held onto his waist, cowering in fear, shaking. Just then, the lights began to dim, slowly fading on and off, shadowing the sloping hallway. The sound of metal being pushed to its limit screeched from below and echoed through the air, as if the ship was crying for mercy from the punishing sea. The floor tilted upwards once more, and the three of them stumbled slightly as the ground beneath their feet shifted. The fact that they could feel this scared them all, although Jack tried not to show it. The lights continued to flicker as their surroundings moved, but the targeted couple stayed firmly in place, their eyes transfixed on the gun.
Thomas looked around him and surveyed the current situation. He felt Rose trembling behind him, a constant reminder of the life he had to save… even if it meant losing his own. "Jack, there's no time for this."
"There's plenty of time! Death is instantaneous."
Rose gripped Thomas' waist at the mention of death. Thomas put a gentle hand on her head, stroking her hair. "Jack… please… what do you want?"
He stared at Thomas, as if he had said something foreign, turning his head to the side and furrowing his brow. "What do I want?" and then, his confused and almost insulted face slowly grew into a wide grin, and he began laughing, throwing his head back wildly as he chuckled hysterically. And then, abruptly, he stopped laughing, and his face was serious once more. "Thomas… you know what I want…" Using the gun, he pointed at Thomas' waist, signalling to what was behind him. "I want the girl… I want Rose!" Raising the gun, he placed a finger on the trigger and aimed it at him again. "And no middle aged Miser is gonna take her from me."
Thomas wasn't waiting any longer. Shoving Rose off of him, he shouted, "Go now!" and stumbling, almost tripping over her own feet, she darted out of the hallway, through the darkness of the following corridor as the lights faded back on weakly. Thomas grabbed Jacks arm, shoving it upwards and wrestling him for the gun. Jack attempted to knee him in the groin, but Thomas lifted his knee and blocked it, tripping him up as they fought for the weapon. During the struggle, Jack pulled the trigger and shot into the ceiling, plaster falling down onto them. When Rose heard the BANG of the gun, she screamed in fright, but kept running, her goal being the Grand Staircase.
With the Titanic's bow sinking further and further beneath the ocean, her stern beginning to rise out of the water, the floor on which they stood was angled significantly, causing the two men to lose their footing, falling over in the midst of their wrestle. Thomas pinned Jack's arms down onto the floor and sat on top of the teenager's chest, a leg on either side of him. Holding him down, he raised a clenched fist above his already ruined face and growled, "I might be middle aged… but I am NOT a Miser!" and with one swift blow, he had knocked out one of Jack's teeth. With the young man disorientated and crying out in pain, Thomas stood up, stroking his fist almost apologetically, and headed down the hallway after Rose, shrouded in shadow, the electricity failing. However, a new found energy was rising up inside of Thomas.
Rose heard footsteps behind her, and not knowing who was following her, she sped up. The lights in this hallway had gone off entirely. She swung her head around, her red hair flying over her shoulders, her long pink coat trailing like a flag in the wind. Behind her, she saw a tall black shadow chasing after her. Was it Jack? Or was it Thomas? It didn't matter. The light at the end of the tunnel was now showing, as the elegant Grand Staircase came into view, illuminating the hallway.
"Rose!" she heard Thomas shouting. She stopped and looked behind her. It WAS Thomas. "Rose, keep going!"
She did as she was told and kept running, knowing he would catch up eventually. She made it out into the Grand Staircase, which wasn't as empty as she thought it might have been. There were 1st class gentleman, and several women also, strolling around the top floor, making their way out onto the boat deck casually, hoping to catch the last lifeboat as if it were the last bus home. Down on the floor below sat Benjamin Guggenheim, dressed in his best and prepared to go down like a gentleman, holding a glass of brandy in his hand, chatting socially to a friend. Just then, as she stood at the banister, looking down at this sight, Thomas came charging out behind her, grabbing her by the hand, pulling her along with him as he ran for the stairs. With the entire room tilting backwards at such a degree, it felt odd descending the marble stairs, for their centre of gravity felt off balance. The marvellous dome above them continued to shine down effortlessly, seemingly unaffected by the sinking… not affected yet anyway.
The couple stopped at the bottom of the steps, standing by the cherub who held a glowing torch in his hands, the shining bronze looking so polished and new. Thomas gazed at the sculpture, remembering the day they had bolted it in place on the ship, back in 1911… it was a shame that such beauty had to fall victim to the fury of the unforgiving sea. Suddenly, there was the screech of footsteps from above, and Rose looked up sharply, spotting Jack at the banister on the top floor, surveying the room . . . and then, he saw them. "Oh God, we have to move!" Rose gasped, tugging Thomas by his overcoat. The shine of the gun came into view as the begrudged boy took aim, and then the couple were off, like ducks on a pond, fleeing the scene of a cruel blood sport.
The first flight of stairs down, the next flight to go, and the blood thirsty Jack on their tail. Thomas excused himself and pardoned his hurried actions as he almost knocked passengers over who were climbing up the stairs, he himself flying down them, three steps at a time. Rose struggled to keep up. Jack rushed down the stairs, blood pouring from his mouth, foaming like a wild beast. He grabbed anyone who got in his way and flung them aside like a sack of potatoes, not caring or even knowing about his movements. His sights were set on the fiery red head, his trophy once the grey haired man was finished with.
Thomas looked down the spiralling staircase that led from A – Deck, twisting down elegantly towards E – Deck far below. The staircase seemed to spiral down forever, but at the rate Thomas and Rose were going, it would take no time. As he looked down the centre of the stairs, he no longer saw the beautiful carpet far down below. Now, he saw glowing green ocean water, shimmering in the luminosity of the electric lights beneath its surface, lapping up onto the stairs, rising one step at a time. The flooding was slowly but surely making its way from the ship's bowels, right up to the grandeur of her upper levels.
Jack wasn't far behind them, only one flight above, and peering over the side of the stair-rail, he saw the lovers racing downwards. Impatiently and without a decent aim, he opened fire. BANG! The bullet passed Rose, making her shriek and duck for cover, throwing her hands over her head. It embedded itself into the oak panelling of the wall. Grumbling with disappointment, he tried again, hoping he would hit something with a pulse, but to no prevail. BANG! The bullet bounced against the floor and ricochet off of the marble, hitting the ceiling. "Shit!" his voice echoed down the spiral stairs and penetrated Roses' ears, making her spine shiver. She shrugged off her coat, avoiding the risk of tripping up, and knowing that she was about to be swimming to safety, it would only slow her down. The pink garment lay abandoned on the stairs.
The bottom of the grand staircase is severely flooded. Thomas and Rose come down the stairs two at a time now, fleeing into the flooding headfirst, only to escape the shooting from above. They run straight into the water which has crept up many of the steps already, fording across the room which has now become like an Olympic sized swimming pool, until they get to where the floor slopes up, reaching dry footing at the entrance to the Dining Saloon. Thomas pulls her along, Rose's dress of thin layers now shockingly see-through, and they enter the room, with its endless rows of tables and chairs… endless rows of hiding places.
Jack looks down and sees the white trails in the water from where the couple had just been. He takes aim, knowing he wouldn't hit either of them, but it would serve as a reminder that he was still there. BANG! A shot blasts into the water beside Rose, splashing her with a white spray. He's almost at the bottom of the stairs, but Jack's foot gets caught in something. The long pink coat trips him up, and he falls over, tumbling down the stairs, dropping his gun as he falls, grabbing onto the banister to stop himself from plummeting into the water. The gun bounces down the steps and into the flood, vanishing beneath the glowing green waves of boiling sea water, rising up furiously towards Jack. He stands up, rubbing his arm, looking ahead of him and into the Dining Saloon. The woodwork around him groans and creaks, and suddenly, the water starts to foam and bubble upwards from beneath the stairs wildly. Mustering up the courage to enter the water, he takes a deep breath and jumps in. It is unbelievably cold, and he grunts in pain as the icy demons kick him where it hurts. He submerges himself and feels around for the gun. Eventually he finds it, and he rises out of the water again, dripping wet, blood smeared over his face, his uncut hair hanging over his forehead. He tries to spot Thomas and Rose amongst the marble pillars and furniture in the Saloon, but he can't see any movement… he has no other choice but to go and find them himself.
Thomas and Rose are hidden, crouched behind a table surrounded by chairs, somewhere in the middle of the room. He hears only the sounds of his ship slowly dying, until he hears a rhythmic splashing of water, and then footsteps. Jack has entered the Dining Saloon. Thomas peers beneath the table, trying to see past the circle of wooden chair legs. It's like looking through a forest of trees. Jack appears and then disappears out of sight, searching every inch of the room carefully for his precious red-head. The troubled teen moves among the tables and ornate columns, searching... listening... his eyes tracking rapidly. It is a sea of tables, and they could be anywhere. A silver serving trolley rolls downhill, and as it passes he casually steps out of its way, allowing it to crash into the water which waits below.
He glances behind him. The water is following him into the room, advancing in a hundred foot wide tide. The reception room is now a roiling lake, and the grand staircase is submerged past the first landing. Monstrous groans echo through the ship.
Rose watches Thomas trustingly, knowing that he has her best interests at heart, and he would clearly take a bullet for her. The thought alone makes her eyes tear up. She puts her hands over her mouth to stop herself from breathing too heavily, not wanting to give away their hiding place. She couldn't believe that she had caused this. How was it possible? How could three men be after her heart? In finishing school she got bullied over her weight and her hair colour. Just then, they saw the water advancing toward them, swirling over the floor. Thomas waits until Jack has his back turned, and then, like an army officer commanding his troops, he signals for Rose to follow him. They crawl ahead of the waterline and to the next row of tables.
They reach the next table, and Thomas makes sure that Jack still hasn't noticed them… which he hasn't, luckily. He catches a glimpse of the gun still in his hand, and then he makes his decision.
"Stay here." Thomas whispered to Rose, stroking her face affectionately, planting a kiss on her lips. And then he crawled off, vanishing between the neighbouring group of tables and chairs, his long overcoat following behind him in the water, leaving a trail like a huge snail.
Jack moved over to the next row and looks along the tables. . . Nothing.
The ship groans and creaks and the lights flicker momentarily. He moves onto another row.
All of a sudden, five feet tall and stacked with piles of china dishes, a metal cart begins to slide down the sloping floor of the Dining Saloon. It rolls down the aisle between all of the tables. As it goes, it loses balance and falls over abruptly, smashing into a table. . . the table where Rose is hiding. The plates topple off the cart and explode, smashing over her. She yelps, not expecting that to have happened. Rose scrambles out of the way, trying not to impale her hand on a shard of broken plate.
Jack spins round, seeing her. His eyes grow, as if he has finally found the needle in this never ending haystack. He moves rapidly towards her, keeping the gun aimed. Rose turns and sees him. She freezes on the spot and closes her eyes, whimpering quietly, bracing herself for the shot to enter her body. The shining gun points at her face, and Jack laughs, "You're mine now bitch!"
That's when Thomas tackles him from the side. They slam together into a table, crashing over it, and toppling to the floor. They land in the water which is flowing rapidly between the tables. Mr Andrews and the young Mr Dawson grapple in the icy water. Thomas jams his knee down on Jack's hand, breaking his grip on the pistol, and kicks it away. The weapon disappears behind the endless labyrinth of furniture, skimming across the water like a pebble on the sea. Jack scrambles up and lunges at him furiously, but Thomas gut punches him right in the stomach, doubling him over.
"Beat up from an 'old man' twice in one night, eh Jack?" he moves his fist back, and Jack falls to the floor, holding his ribs in agony. "You're losing your touch… I'd give up while you still have a chance." He looks behind him and sees Rose, gripping onto the back of a chair desperately. She looks at an exhausted Jack, unarmed and harmed, and she jumps up, wrapping her arms around Thomas, kissing him passionately. The room shifts, another trolley comes hurtling down the aisle, vanishing into the water. Thomas takes out his pocket watch. The time is "02:05am." He knows now that there is no time to waste. Rose is still on board the ship. Not only that, but she is right in the middle of the flooding. She's avoided death too many times tonight, and he isn't going to stop trying to save her now. Jack doesn't have her, Thomas does, and he's going to do what he should have done hours ago.
"I'm getting you out of here now Rose! If we go through the galley and up the crew passage, there's a flight of stairs that will take us up to the boat deck. There may still be a boat if we hurry… if not, I know that there are collapsible boats near the bridge… either way, you're going to get out of here… I promise." He brings those big loving brown eyes round to stare into Rose's blue diamonds.
She nods, listening intently to him, seeing his mind working overtime. The ship's metal screeches in agony and he reacts as if he has been stabbed in the heart. To be in the middle of your creations death throws… Rose couldn't begin to comprehend what he was feeling. Thomas and Rose run aft, holding hands. They run uphill, entering the galley. Behind them the tables have become islands in a lake, and the far end of the room is flooded up to the ceiling. Sparks of electricity explode from several of the ceiling lights as the water rises up and touches them, glowing an eerie shade of green as the water continues to pour into the room, flipping over chairs and tables, washing away plates and cutlery.
Jack opens his eyes, looking up at the floor, the water beginning to wash up over him. He felt as if he was on the beach at Santa Monica again. When he was younger, he would lay on the beach as the tide came in and lapped up onto him relaxingly… and so he stayed on the floor… and didn't move… closing his eyes, he listened to the music of the ocean and hummed calmly…A hymn to the sea.