Chapter 21

…

The Carpathia finally arrived to the site, only to find there was no ship in to be found in sight.

"Should be there by now, sir." Dean says, looking out into the starry horizon, as Rostron joins them at the bridge. "Not a sign of her. Must've been a wrong position." They stood in silence, watching the ever dark, starry night, until an officer yelled.

"Iceberg on the port bow, sir!"

Rostron snapped out, sees the iceberg, and got into action.

"Starboard a point."

"Starboard one point, sir." An officer called, as Rostron continued, "Slow ahead." Engine telegraphs ring, as the officer tells the helmsman, "Starboard one point." They continued to steam through the area, albeit carefully now.

…

Eric, Karl and a few other men that were given the honor of rowing duties back on Titanic earlier had rowed for the entire night in no particular direction. After the transfer of passengers their boat had been full, while a couple of officers rowed their boats in search of any remaining survivors, if any, in the cold Atlantic. One of the men rowing with them had identified himself as Frederick Barrett, who was working the boilers earlier, before the ship sank. He made his way to the decks, before the last boat had lowered, and after he had done his duties to keep the ship afloat for a long as possible. Together, with Second Officer Charles Herbert Lightoller, who was now manning the helm after leaving his overturned collapsible, they were told to row port, starboard, or even occasionally stop, as they had to pull a man that had died of exposure on the boat with them and to bury him there with the Titanic.

It was a very long, and cold night as the remaining survivors arduously rowed the boat in no particular direction; as this was meant to keep the people around them to be warm as much as possible. Even with the peoples' bodies huddled close to one another it was still very cold, as they tried to share body heat from one another. Some people were soaked, as they stayed in the water for too long, making those around them even colder than they needed to be. Someone was passing around a flask, and Eric took ahold, managing to only get a few drops. He normally doesn't take someone else's drink, but tonight he cared less. He tapped the bottom of the flask to get at the remaining liquor still inside before passing the small empty metal can around again.

Eric's body became sore after trying to row away from Titanic as quickly as possible, under the direction of his officer.

"At least I got a decent workout." he smiled at bit, despite the disaster that had happened. He was even more sore, as the boat contained more people from the transfer. Someone wanted to take over, but Eric politely declined, as it was a way to distract himself from the loss of his friend. He suddenly had a sad thought, as he began to wonder what had become of Jesse. Eric hoped he was not any one of these people who were freezing and dying from exposure in the Atlantic. Somewhere, he hoped, Jesse made it a lifeboat and saved himself from this nightmare. He doesn't want his sister to be devastated to know what had happened to her baby brother, as he himself was not only a friend, but he was an older brother-in-law to Jesse. He also wondered about Jack and Fabrizio, and if they indeed saved themselves as well, and were also making their way to the inbound rescue ship.

He looked over at Karl, still forlorn over the loss of his friend. They had planned to do some things together before he made it out on his own in America; earning his citizenship to be an American citizen, getting good jobs, and above all, to have a better opportunity that America has to offer, far from his old life back in Norway, or Finland, or one of those Scandinavian countries, he couldn't quite remember which one of those countries he came from, and that he can make it on his own and prosper, with Jesse being there providing the foundation. Eric turned his attention back to the situation at hand.

Around them, women are mourning the loss of their husbands, friends who had gone down with the ship, or succumbed to hypothermia. Eric couldn't bear the thought of Jesse scrambling his way to the stern moments before the stricken liner disappeared beneath the surface of the Atlantic. He had hoped, badly, that Jesse had finally made it to a boat, also being an oarsman, and was also on his way towards the rescue ship as well. Eric was absolutely shocked the ship went down quickly in those two hours. All they had been told is put their lifebelts on and wait by the gates for any instructions, as they weren't told of what had actually happened. The shock of what had happened had not sunk in the minds of those survivors; only leaving them paralyzed with fear and sadness, and the extreme cold.

As dawn finally came, Eric could see they were all surrounded in a massive field of bergs, and even an occasional ice sheet, as far as he can see. He looked, both with awe and fear, as some were as big as floating boulders; some he thought were big enough to have sunk the ship they were all in. Eric knew Jesse was a wonderful artist, and almost wished he was here, to draw the terrifying yet beautiful scene around them. Eric could almost envisioned Jesse, sitting there, in the lifeboat, as a breeze gently blows through his beautiful dark hair, his sketchpad out, and intently drawing the terrifying yet beautiful scene into his sketchpad. He shook his head, then knew Jesse wouldn't draw frivolous scenes, like these, as he needed something that would get him in engineering training, but he was indeed, a wonderful artist, and he would be remembered at best, for that.

Eric looked once more at Karl. He used his oar to push away at a small chunk of ice before it hit the lifeboat, with a small smile on his face, even though he was still grief stricken at the loss of his good friend, and watched it float away from the lifeboat. Somewhere behind they heard a small crack echoing off one of the bergs.

"Ship ahoy!" someone shouted from his boat, as he slowly turned around.

A ship's horn soon broke the quiet cold morning air, followed by more rockets firing into the air. A small group of people around them began to rejoice; while others were still in mourning over the loss of their loved ones as they were not here to be with them, as they slowly made their way to the rescue ship. Out of the corner of his eye Eric could see a distant person, standing on the bow of the lifeboat and waving a green flare as the single-funneled, four-mast ship continues to steam onto their location, and still shooting off rockets.

Eric looks up at the orange sky, as the sun begins to crest over the neverending horizon, and a single tear rolled down his cheek.

Rest in peace, Brother. Rest in peace. You will be greatly missed…