I wonder for the millionth time where he is, but the chugging of the ferry’s engine offers no answer. He’s out there somewhere, dealing with his problems, while we leave ours (and him) behind.
My head aches from the cold. I should get back to Mum and see if she has any painkillers. The pain prickles in my neck as a light flashes above the city.
A ray shines down and hits the sea, and the pins and needles in my forehead intensify. The column of sunlight blazes in the morning sky like a spotlight in front of a curtain of grey. The squat buildings of the dock shimmer and sway.
The light gets brighter and pain blooms behind my eyes but I can’t look away. Like smoke flowing into a glass pipe, the buildings mist over until I can’t see them any more.
I grip the railing and gulp in the salted air, laced with a woody, metallic scent.
The swirling column of light burns fierce and bright, and a shape emerges. The giant, towering outline of an ocean liner – and it’s heading straight for us.
I’m about to shout a warning. Tell the captain of the ferry we’re going to be smashed to pieces by a luxury cruiser. But then I recognise the boat.
It can’t be. The impossible word forms in my mind.
Titanic.
My vision flickers. There are people lined along the top deck. Men and women in old-fashioned clothes.
My hands shake as I take out my camera, raise it and aim at the ship. Snap.
A foghorn blares and the people on the boat cheer.
This is incredible, I—
A woman’s scream fills the air.
It slices through me and my hands fly to my ears as ice flows through my body. Burning me within. Dragging me down.
The camera clatters on the deck as I fall to my knees.
A pressure on my chest like I’m trapped underwater. I can’t breathe.
A shadow crosses my gaze and there’s a shimmering image of a man beside me, surrounded by the same blazing light as the ship. He’s wearing a brown leather jacket and clutching something. A little wooden box – it’s some sort of old-style camera. He shakes his hair from his eyes and aims it at the ship.
‘Dad?’ I say, my voice strangled. I reach forward. ‘What’re you—’
Light surges behind the ship and blinds me.
Voices cry out.
Crows screech.
A woman laughs.
Everything goes dark.
Chapter Two
A sharp pain in my collarbone pulls me from the blackness. Someone is pinching me.
‘Ow!’
‘Michael, are you OK?’
My head swims as I sit up. Mum is kneeling beside me on the deck, eyes alert as she scans me.
‘I’m fine.’
