A/N: OH NOES. Really, I'm tempted to just leave that as my author's note, because what the heck else is there to say at this point? I will say that these next few chapters were very hard to write, not because they actually gave me difficulty, but because...well, writing about a tragedy like this is never exactly easy, is it? Plus, I'm incredibly attached to these characters now. Also, word of warning to any Titanic and/or history buffs in my readership (lol) if you spot a historical inaccuracy anywhere, rest assured that I most likely am aware of it too and have included it to fit the way things happen in the musical. By necessity things had to be altered for the stage (like, for example, how quickly Men could get to the Women's cabins down in third class). If you're really curious as to why something changed, feel free to ask - I probably know :)
Thanks as always to my girls LC and Vee for their continued support and enthusiasm for this Epic. XD. You guys rock the universe.
What woke Kate was not a pleasant dream or the stirrings of her cabin mates. What woke her was a sound, a sound like nothing she had ever heard before. It was a horrible noise; a crunching, scraping, grinding cacophony that reverberated through the cabin like Armageddon.
Kate lurched upright in bed, narrowly avoiding knocking herself unconscious on the cabin ceiling. She had been asleep for maybe half an hour, and was so disoriented by this sudden jolt into wakefulness that for an instant she wondered if she'd imagined hearing anything. But no, Kate could see Mathilde sitting up in the opposite bunk as well, a tense, dark silhouette against the white wall.
Kicking her legs free of the tangled bed sheets, Kate half-climbed, half-fell down the ladder from her bunk. She plucked her threadbare dressing gown from its place on the wall hooks and threw it around her shoulders. The terrible noise had stopped, replaced by a silence that made Kate's ears ring. Where was the ever-present hum of the engines, the constant sounds of gears and pistons and parting ocean? Kate threw open the cabin door and burst into the hallway.
All up and down the corridor, doors were opening and bleary-eyed women were peeking out into the hall. Questions and exclamations in every language imaginable echoed through the eerily quiet air. The door across the hall from Kate's opened and Kate Murphy appeared, dressed only in her heavy flannel nightgown and looking more tousled than Kate had ever seen her.
"What is it?" Murphy exclaimed, hurrying to Kate's side. Both hands were clasped against her chest and she was shivering, "What's goin' on?"
Kate wrapped her dressing gown tighter around her body and shook her head, "I don't know," she scanned the rapidly filling hallway for any sign of a crewman or steward. A few men were beginning to appear on the scene, having made their way from the forward dormitories to search for the women they were travelling with. "There was that horrible scrapin' noise and then we just stopped,"
"What?" Murphy laid one hand against the wall, seeking the familiar rumble of the ship vibrating through the wood panels, "Holy God, yer right!" She gave Kate a wide-eyed look, "What does that mean? Why would we stop?"
"Sure an' I don't know," Kate replied. Kate Mullins had joined them in the hall now, a knitted sweater pulled over her night clothes, her blond hair matted to her head with sleep. Petra too was hovering near Kate's right side, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Her blue eyes were enormous with confusion as she tried to grasp what was being said. Kate tried to explain, wishing that she'd tried to learn a bit more German than "hello", "goodbye" and "how are you". Finally Kate grabbed her roommate's hand and pressed it to the door jam so that Petra could feel how the vibrations had stopped. Petra seemed to understand on some level, and she nodded gratefully before returning to the room to report back to her younger sister.
"It can't be anythin' real bad, can it?" Kate Mullins said fretfully, twisting the hem of her sweater in both hands.
Before anyone could answer, a sudden ruckus at the aft end of the corridor caught the crowd's attention. A pair of white-coated stewards had appeared and begun pounding on any doors still left unopened, bellowing for everyone to wake up.
"Everyone up and out of bed!" One of the pair hollered roughly, banging his fist against a closed cabin door. Several women ducked into their rooms as they approached, not understanding the language and wishing to avoid being seen by such a rough and unpleasant fellow while dressed only in their night things. "Third class is to gather fore and aft of the Well Deck. Bring your life preservers and wait there for further instructions,"
Kate felt her heart leap into her throat. Life preservers? Surely not; this had to be some sort of mistake, a drill perhaps. Kate Murphy had given a weak little yelp at this news and was now clutching Kate's arm in an almost painful grip, "Why d'we need those?" she breathed in a hoarse whisper, her fingers digging harder into Kate's skin "What's happened that we need those?"
"Maybe it's nothin'," Kate said, trying to sound sure of herself and doing a terrible job of it, "Maybe it's just…"
"Kate!"
All three Kates turned as one, for once failing to see the humour in the situation. Jim had evidently managed to fight his way back from the men's dorms and he hastened towards them.
"Jim!" Kate pulled her arm free of Murphy's vice-like hold and ran to meet him. She grabbed him by the wrists, immediately reassured by his presence. "Jim, what the Hell's happenin'?" she demanded breathlessly, "They're tellin' us te put our life vests on!"
Jim looked anxious, his mouth drawn into a grim line, his eyebrows knitted together. He pulled Kate closer, tugging one hand out of her grip and placing it protectively against the small of her back, "I think we hit somethin'," he said, his voice dark with worry.
Kate Mullins gave a squeak of fear, "What're we s'posed te do now then?" she asked, hugging herself for warmth and comfort.
The stewards had almost reached them now, but were occupied by trying to explain to a frustrated-sounded Italian man and his wife that they needed to dress and put on their life belts. Jim eyed them, then decided that they weren't likely to be much help, "I'll go upstairs an' have a look," he said, releasing his hold on Kate with some reluctance, "Stay here," he ordered.
He needn't have bothered. Jim got two steps before one of the white-uniformed men blocked his path, "Where do you think you're going?"
"Upstairs te see what's goin' on," Jim said incredulously, looking as though he'd have liked to punch the man in the nose, "Where d'ye think?"
"You'll stay here like you're told," The steward snapped, sounding more agitated and impatient than outright belligerent, "And for God's sake, get your bloody life preservers on!"
Jim opened his mouth to make a retort, but Kate grabbed the back of his shirt, "Don't Jim, there's no use fightin'," she pleaded. Several other men had rushed at the steward now, demanding answers in various languages. The situation had the potential to turn ugly at any moment and Kate wanted Jim kept well out of the way if it did. She pulled him back from the crowd. "Please Jim, c'mon, we'll find a way up without 'em,"
"All right," Jim turned and looked at her, his expression a mixture of anger and anxiety. Kate pressed herself closer to him, the fingers of both hands hooked into the material of his shirt, "All right Katie, go into yer cabin an' get yer life belt. Get dressed too, in somethin' warm I think."
"Where're you goin'?" Kate demanded, clutching him tighter.
"Back te me cabin; someone there might know somethin'," Jim said, gently attempting to pry her fingers loose, "it won't take but a couple o' minutes,"
Kate shook her head vigorously, "No, no, Jim ye can't leave…"
Jim wrapped his hands around one of hers and gave it a reassuring squeeze, "I'll be fine. I'll meet ye at the aft staircase, aye? Now go on, take the others an' get dressed, quickly Kate," he kissed the top of her head, "I'll be back in no time, ye'll see."
Though still clearly unimpressed with the idea, Kate allowed Jim to let go of her. She watched him disappear into the crowd, chewing her lip uncertainly. Finally, Kate turned back to the other girls. They were hovering a few feet away, looking at her expectantly. Kate hurried over to them, untying the belt of her dressing gown as she did so.
"Where's Jim goin'?" Mullins asked, looking Kate up and down as though searching for signs of imminent separation anxiety.
"Back te his cabin," Kate replied, keeping her voice as calm as possible, "He's gonna meet us at the staircase," She pushed open her cabin door and gestured for her friends to return to their own rooms, "Right now get dressed warm an' put on yer life vests, quick as ye can."
In her room, Kate found Petra and Mathilde speaking to each other in rapid German, the tone of their voices undeniably fearful. When Kate entered they both looked at her with clear relief, as though they somehow sensed that she had some idea of what to do. Kate didn't waste time trying to mime out instruction; she simply grabbed the two girls' coats from their hooks and thrust the garments into their arms. "Here," Kate said, digging three life preservers out from underneath the bunks, "Take these too,"
Taking only a moment to see that her roommates understood, Kate began gathering up her own clothes. She pulled on stockings and bloomers but otherwise chose to skip worrying about the rest of her finicky underclothes. Instead, she pulled her skirt on over her night gown and then, after a moment, selected the never-worn blouse her mother had given her as a going away present and put it on too. Somehow saving it to wear for her arrival in New York no longer seemed important.
Just as Kate was throwing on her coat, the door flew open and Mullins and Murphy piled into the room. Neither were near as layered as Kate was, having apparently done nothing more than put on stockings and sweaters. Mullins had put on her cheerfully coloured beret, but neither girl was wearing gloves. Kate eyed them speculatively, "Are ye dressed warm enough then?" she was trying to secure her hat, but her hands were shaking so badly that she couldn't work the pins.
Kate Murphy looked down at her coat - the only article of clothing she had put on over her nightdress – and heavy wool stockings, "How warm d'ye figure we need te be?" She demanded, her voice shriller than normal.
"I dunno!" Kate snapped, finally giving up on her hat and tossing it onto one of the bunks; with any luck she'd be back for it later, "How should I know? If ye feel warm enough then I guess ye are!"
"Don't yell Kate," Mullins pleaded, looking very small and pale in all her light-coloured clothing, "Please don't yell. We need te all help each other,"
Kate pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes, pressing her free hand to her stomach. It wasn't fair to get annoyed; none of them had any idea what was going on, or what they needed to do. Kate herself was just obeying Jim's instructions. "I'm sorry, yer right," she said, opening her eyes. She checked the ties on her life preserver, "Yer all ready then?"
A chastised looking Kate Murphy answered for everyone, "Aye, we're ready, let go,"
Hand in hand they hurried away from their cabins, Kate in the lead, Petra and Mathilde bringing up the rear. There was mass confusion in the corridors. So many of the steerage passengers did not speak English that they had no idea what was going on. Even those third class travellers who could understand the instructions of the stewards were in turmoil, demanding answers, looking for loved ones, even just trying to decide where to go. The air of confusion and fear was a tangible thing, being passed from person to person like a spark of static electricity. Kate dragged her friends past group after group of frightened, uncertain passengers, many of whom she had become familiar with. The entire Sage family, all eleven of them, were huddled against one wall, the little ones clinging to their older siblings' hands while their parents discussed their next course of action. Kate wondered if anyone really knew what was happening.
Kate told herself over and over that it couldn't be serious, not really and truly dire. Even if the ship had collided with something – and Kate's gut instinct told her that it had – Titanic was supposed to be unsinkable. Everybody knew that. The life jackets were just a precaution, the crew following procedure, not an actual indication of danger. How could they be in any real danger on an unsinkable ship?
This thought would have provided some comfort if Kate's little group had not chosen that moment to run head long into a steward coming down the hallway from the forward decks. The man was moving quickly, paying little attention to where he was going, and he very nearly sent Kate flying when he ran into her.
There was a moment of confusion as they righted themselves and babbled apologies. The steward regained his composure first, giving the gaggle of women a once over and saying, "Good, life belts, excellent. Get to the Well Deck now, will you?" His voice was brusque, business-like and vaguely distracted. He hurried off without a glance back.
Kate watched him leave, feeling suddenly shaky and breathless. Just before the Steward had snapped back into his formal demeanour, Kate had caught a glimpse of something unsettling in his eyes, something that all the formal training in the world couldn't mask. She wasn't entirely sure, but if Kate had to put a name to the look, she'd have said that it was fear. The man was afraid. The crew knew better than the passengers what was going on, and if they were frightened…
"All right," Kate said, "Let's get a move on, aye?" She pulled her friends forward again, and if anyone in the group noticed that Kate had almost doubled her pace, not one of them was about to question her.