Sitting 100 feet underwater was never part of the designers plans for the hatch covers. They were built to take a pounding in heavy seas but that kind of weight was brief. Green water was designed to be mostly reflected away from the bow and over the side. Having sustained pressure from the sea outside and from the upturned cargo below was more than it was ever meant to stand.
With the force of a small explosion, the forward hatch cover blew. Breaking in two it drifted clear of the ship, sinking into the dark depths below. Water rushed into the new hole, filling every space it could find. The sudden influx forced the air within to seek newer pastures elsewhere but, there was no where else to go. With a bang it burst out the side, dangerously close to the ballroom. As water flooded the passageways on either side, the windows creaked ominously. Small cracks began to appear. They were small at first but once they got past a certain length, they grew exponentially. Water began to spray in, further widening the cracks. People began to panic, running for the doors but they would find no haven there. As soon as they opened them water began to rush in. They were trapped.
The windows held for a moment longer. Bradford closed his eyes, inwardly bracing himself for death. He was a man of the sea, a ship's captain. And it was only fitting for him to go down with his ship. Gloria came up to him, tears in her eyes. She was not nearly as ready as he was. He took her in his arms, doing his best to soothe her. He willed that the sea not part them when their time came.
The sea burst in as the windows, having taken far more pressure than they were designed to, finally succumbed to physics. Water burst in on both sides as one by one each window broke. People screamed, trying to run for high ground but there was nowhere to go. Their screams echoed throughout the ship.
Pamela, not just hearing but feeling their deaths, ran to the balcony and looked down. Water roiled below her and telltale bubbles rose up, indicating that water had managed to find a passage between here and the ballroom. Each death felt like a prick in her heart and one in particular was like a dagger. Her captain. She gripped the railing, feeling it creak and contort in her hand but it didn't break. Her other hand came over her heart, rubbing it as if she could somehow ease the pain.
She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up to see Dylan standing beside her. The former submariner didn't say anything for which she was grateful. He just stood there, a quite presence but a comforting one all the same. It took a minute before the pain subsided enough for Pamela to try speaking. When she did, her voice was tight and raspy as though she was struggling for each word. "We're on borrowed time now." She said. "From this point on all we can do is run and pray we're faster than the water."