Page 11 of If They Knew

In the backseat, I hung helplessly upside down, with all my weight against the seatbelt. Crying in pain, I reached for the buckle and pressed the release. Gravity pulled me down. Glass shards sliced into my arms and legs, and I screamed, feeling a sharp pain shoot through my stomach. I looked down to see blood oozing out with a large piece of glass protruding from my shirt. I looked up and saw both my parents laying motionless upside down in their seatbelts. I yelled their names in a panic to wake them.

My dad stirs, unbuckled his belt, and crawled out. He helped me out first and realized I’m injured. He stared at me silently, and I knew he was panicking. The pain finally stopped in my stomach when I stopped moving and the blood also stopped. I tell my dad that I’m okay and that I’ll stay still until the ambulance arrives. I told my dad he needed to help my mother. Even though I'm terrified, I knew my mom needed more help. I couldn’t see any blood on her, but something just felt wrong when I looked at her. I watch as my dad runs to the driver's side but can’t get inside because the car is crushed. He then runs back to the passenger side, shouting for help to the group of people who have gotten out of their cars staring at us. Shocked, scared, and trembling, I can’t move. A few moments later, I watch my dad pull my mom out, lay her on the asphalt and start CPR.

That memory has haunted my nightmares and kept me awake for years. As I got older, the nightmares gradually faded, but the memory never did. I’ve never told anyone that I remember what happened that night and most people only know that my mom was killed by a drunk driver. If anyone asked me if I recalled it, I told them that doctors say my brain might have blocked it out.

My dad never fully recovered from the loss of my mom and later became an alcoholic. I basically raised myself from age twelve and haven’t spoken to my father in over a decade. I vividly remember every single detail, from the moment the car hit to the ambulance’s arrival and the paramedics telling my dad that his wife didn’t make it. I remember all of it…

An ear-piercing scream in the distance brings me back to the present, and I watch as another group of people tries to pull the other person out of the crushed elevator. Two bystanders grab the trapped woman by her arms and begin to pull. I watch as they pull the semi-conscious woman out, and her torso becomes caught on a thick shard of glass. The people pulling must not realize this, so they continue to tug. Before I can shout for them to stop, they pull even harder. Her torso is sliced open, and blood spurts out of her chest. The woman suddenly lets out a blood-curdling scream. I can’t take my eyes away from her, and within seconds, she loses so much blood that her face turns a ghostly white, and she stops moving. Her body is bleeding out onto the atrium floor. The wound is massive, and her intestines are visible. Her body lies motionless, slumped over the elevator. A man from across the room runs up and drops to the ground beside her, sobbing. As I stare at the man, it crosses my mind that he might be her husband.

Then I wonder where the hell my husband is in all this madness.

8

THEO

Think, Theo, think! Julie thinks I’m on the bridge, and without any way to communicate, that's where she and Tyler will go to look for me. That's where I need to go. While climbing the stairs, the ship rocks violently, and a woman trips a few steps above me, tumbling down the stairs and nearly taking me with her. When I look back at the bottom of the stairs, I see she's unconscious. I change direction to head towards her. Hovering above, I gently shake her shoulder.

“Ma’am, are you okay?” When she doesn't answer, I try again. “Ma’am, are you okay?” Still no reply. I check her pulse, but feel nothing. Oh, shit. As seconds pass, more passengers start to flood the stairwell. I grab the arm of one of them, asking them to help the woman. “I have to go, I need to get to the upper deck,” I say, as I head off in that direction, with screams echoing behind me as the person I stopped probably just realized the woman is dead. Maybe I can fix this. But how? I only have a few steps to reach the bridge door. Stay calm, Theo. Stay focused. Almost there, I grab the railing and lift myself toward the bridge door. I swipe my key card—nothing happens. Frustrated, I pound on the door with my fist.

“Let me in, it's Theo.” The door swings open, revealing utter chaos.

Logan's eyes lock onto mine as soon as I step inside.

“We’ve lost all engine power,” he says, bracing himself against the navigation panel. “Whitaker put me in charge until he gets back. He popped back in to say he’s heading down to reset the breakers and check on what’s going on in the engine room. It happened when the lightning hit the ship, causing that huge power failure.” As I scan the room, taking in the damage, I notice the furniture has been knocked over and scattered to one side, in complete disarray. Bolting down the furniture was supposed to be done before we sailed, but with our accelerated timeline, we skipped it for this practice run and only bolted down the captain's seat.

The glass windshield on the bridge has a huge crack that's easily three feet long, likely caused by the impact of a piece of furniture. Two officers who were working with Logan are now lying on the floor. One officer is unconscious, blood dripping from the side of his head. I can’t tell who it is, but I think it’s Greg. The other officer is screaming in pain–a broken bone protruding from his right leg. Logan quickly rushes over to help the officers on the ground. My heart is still racing, I feel the room spinning, and I become lightheaded. I try to steady myself, grabbing onto a chair that's still upright, while Logan screams in the background. Standing there, my heart pounding, I close my eyes for a moment and take a few deep breaths, then I repeat the process—something a therapist taught me for when I get overwhelmed.

With as much calm as I can muster, I turn and ask Logan, “What can I do to help? Where do you need me?”

Logan points to the radio by the control panel. “Get on the radio and put out a mayday call for help.” I sprint toward the panel, but before I reach the radio, a bright orange glow erupts outside, followed by a loud bang. A massive fireball explodes, sending me tumbling to the ground. The bridge's glass shatters inward, pelting everyone with shards. I look around, realizing my vision has narrowed to a tunnel. My head throbs, and the taste of iron fills my mouth. I reach up and feel my face. Blood drips from my nose, and my upper lip is split open. My ears are ringing, and I can see people’s mouths moving, but I can't hear anything.

I glance over and see Logan screaming in my direction, and I blink in confusion. A few seconds later, the ringing subsides, and Logan's shouting fills the air, asking if I'm okay. Outside the destroyed window of the bridge, people are screaming, running, and begging for help. Smoke fills the bridge's interior, making it nearly impossible for me to breathe. My instincts kick in, and I keep low, reminding myself to stay calm. I crawl toward the door and kick it open. Despite the pitch-black night sky, the fire on the top deck burns so brightly that it lights up the ship's 12th deck like the heart of Times Square. The officer who was unconscious on the floor earlier stirs and looks around.

Before I crawl outside, I shout to the officer, “Greg, grab the sat phone next to you and call for help.” When I look back at Logan, I see him lying on the ground, a large piece of glass protruding from his right thigh. I wince at the sight, suddenly feeling queasy. Logan lets out a piercing scream as he yanks the four-inch shard of glass from his thigh. I watch as he tears off his pant leg and ties it around his wound, creating a tourniquet. Then, as if barely injured, he begins crawling toward me.

I hear screaming behind me, and I turn around to see a man running toward me, begging for help. His face is covered in blood, and his left ear is torn off. Still on the ground, I quickly crawl backward, stunned by the gruesome scene. I then quickly stand up and push past the man to get out. I grab a pool towel lying on the ground and use a broken piece of glass to cut a strip of the towel off. I run back to the man and make a bandage to help protect his bleeding ear.

Standing outside the wrecked bridge, I have a clear view of the entire deck. The sight of the destruction leaves me speechless. The wind is so fierce it almost knocks me over, and the rain pours down so heavily that each drop feels like needles piercing my skin. The ship continues to sway wildly, rocking side to side, out of control. A steady river of rainwater mixed with blood flows across the deck, and people are lying all over the deck in every direction, with blood streaming from their bodies. I watch a man on fire run across the deck. It’s like it’s happening in slow motion, like I’m watching a movie I can't stop. The burning man drops to the ground near me, screaming in pure agony, and begins to roll around on the wet deck, but the water is no match for his clothing engulfed in flames.

Suddenly, I remember there's a fire extinguisher behind every bar. I run as fast as I can, jumping over bodies, to the pool bar in search of the extinguisher. Looking around, there are none in sight. What the fuck? I look back at the man, who has now stopped screaming and moving. He's lying on the deck, face up, burned. The rain extinguishes the fire, but it's too late. Unable to look at him any longer, I turn to the pool and notice that the waterslide is also completely destroyed; the explosion blew it apart into several pieces strewn across the deck.

A large piece of tubing has a screaming man pinned to the ground. I abandon my search for a fire extinguisher and rush to the man's rescue. I try to lift the tubing, but it’s too heavy. I look around, shouting for help, but several people are running past me. I grab a person nearest to me, a guy who looks like he’s in his mid-thirties. He’s not bleeding or anything, so I hope he’s okay. “I need your help. Please!” The man nods and runs around to the other side of the tubing. We push and shove at the tubing, all the while the screams of the trapped man keep drifting up around us. A few others notice as we struggle to lift the heavy, broken tubing and finally join in.

I shout, “Lift on the count of three. One... two... three, lift!” We all lift together, and the slide rises a few inches, just enough to pull the man out. As he's being pulled free, the onlookers gasp at the sight. Looking down, I realize why. The man hasn’t seen his body yet. When he looks down, he finally sees his injuries, and he screams again before passing out. His left leg is completely crushed, with bones and muscles exposed, and his right foot has been severed. Oh my god. My stomach roils, and before I can stop myself, I lean over and vomit onto the deck. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, overwhelmed for a moment by the chaos around me. People are running in every direction, frantic with fear. The ground is littered with dead bodies, and the air is filled with agonizing screams and desperate pleas for help. I try to focus, to find something to concentrate on. Who can I help?

To my right, I hear a woman's scream cut through the noise. I turn and watch as panicked people trample her. My feet are moving before I can think, but by the time I reach her, she’s stopped screaming and is no longer moving. I shove the people away, praying she's still alive. I see her face is badly battered, and her arm is twisted unnaturally behind her back. I reach down and place two fingers on her neck, checking for a pulse. Fuck. She’s dead.

My attention is drawn when I hear someone call my name. “Theo! Over here!” I scan the deck and spot Greg—the officer from the bridge who grabbed the satellite phone.

He is shouting at me, holding the satellite phone high above his head. “I can’t get it to work.”

I wipe the rain from my eyes as I think about why it might not be working. Damn, what did they say in that training we had? Oh, right! It needs an unobstructed signal. I notice that Greg’s standing under an awning. He needs to be in the open.

I shout back at him, “Get out in the open!” Greg rushes to the edge of the deck, lifting the phone and staring at the screen. I run toward him and see the device's red light flash to green, indicating a stable link.

“I’ve got it! I've got it!” Greg waves the phone at me.

I watch as he fumbles with the slick phone in the rain. It slips from his grasp and hits the floor. He quickly picks it back up, but the green light turns red again —signal lost. Greg moves closer to the edge, holding the phone high, trying to establish another signal. While he is trying, I watch as a group of panicked passengers rushes past him.