Page 19

I blare the siren again. “You’re right, but there’s not much we can do right now. I suggest we move the bodies to a designated spot and cover them with sheets. If you wish, we can set up a prayer room for those who would like to say goodbye or pray. What do you think?” I ask. The room falls silent for a moment, with only muffled cries and sniffles. I watch as the crowd begins to nod in agreement. “I know this won't be easy, and some of you might find it hard, but if you're willing to help move the bodies, please gather in the middle of the room,” I say, heading that direction myself.

After a moment of silence, people began to move toward the center of the room. One by one, several men and women joined them, their heads bowed and their faces showing sorrow.

“Thank you for volunteering to help. This isn’t going to be easy, and I want you to know we really appreciate it. I'll head to the 12th deck to grab the backboards from near the pool. Hopefully, that will make moving the bodies easier.” No one says anything. They are all standing and staring at me. “Does anyone have any questions?” I ask.

A young man dressed in a tattered shirt and bloodstained shorts raises his hand nervously.

“Yes?” I ask. The crowd turns to see who I’m addressing. He blinks as all eyes land on him.

“Are we all going to die on this ship?”

I pause, thinking, my gaze sweeping over my wife and brother. Before I answer, I feel my shoulders drop.

The room is so silent that I could hear a pin drop. I lower the megaphone; the room’s quiet enough for them all to hear me. I take a deep breath and address everyone. “I'm not going to sugarcoat this, and I'm sorry, but I don't have an answer because I truly don't know. This isn't what we expected. We’re trained for different scenarios, but this is unlike anything we've prepared for. All our training and practice scenarios point to one outcome: either get help through communication or abandon ship in lifeboats. Neither is an option now. All I can do is hope the storm hasn't pushed us too far off course and that someone on shore realizes we’ve lost contact and sends help.” I pause, trying to sound confident while internally freaking out.

No one is looking for us… We never got the final approval for this practice voyage. The only people who know we are out here are friends and family.

I continue on. “Honestly, I don't even know where we are right now. I've never seen such a powerful storm before. All I know is that we're all we've got right now, and we need to stick together to survive.”

There's a change in the air. People exchange glances, and everyone can see the sadness, heartache, and defeat on each other's faces. Then, something incredible happens: the entire room falls silent, and hands begin to come together. A few moments pass, and suddenly, every person in the room is holding someone else's hand, united. I look around again, my eyes filling with tears and my hand gripping Logan’s, his gripping the person next to him. I close my eyes and whisper a quiet prayer to the universe, “Please let us make it through this.”

After a brief pause, we all release each other's hands. A moment later, the hope vanishes, and the room's mood turns somber again.

I can tell that everyone in the room is exhausted. I know everyone needs some sleep, or they’ll be no help when it’s needed most. “I can tell that you all want to help, and it’s clear that emotions are running high right now, but if you're not working with the medical team or helping move bodies, please go back to your room and try to get some sleep. I'll be up for a while if anyone needs me. Remember, the 2nd, 3rd, 7th, and 8th floors are incomplete. Those floors are off-limits except for getting medical supplies from the 2nd floor. I've seen them myself, and they're not safe. The floors were initially locked to prevent access, but after the power failure, the system unlocked all the doors. So, please stay away from them. Thank you. Try to get some rest.” I was right in my assumption that everyone is exhausted. One by one, the room becomes less crowded as everyone begins to leave.

Logan approaches me from behind and taps me to get my attention. “I can stay up and help if you'd like to get some sleep,” he says.

“No, I'm okay. I can't sleep right now, even if I wanted to; my mind is all over the place. But thank you. How about you get some rest?”

“Appreciate the offer, but I feel the same way. I don't think I’ll sleep anytime soon. I'm not even sure my mind has caught up with what's happening,” Logan answers, then limps away, busying himself with cleaning up.

Tyler walks up with Julie not far behind. “Yeah, I agree. I can't sleep either. There's too much going on, and too much is happening. I'm going to stay and try to help around here.”

“Me too,” adds Julie.

“Thanks, that would be helpful,” I answer. Taking a deep breath, I rub the back of my neck. Julie comes closer and wraps her arms around me. I wrap my arms around her, drawing her closer to me.

“You’ve got this,” she whispers as she gives me a tight squeeze. I take another breath, exhaling a bit of the tightness in my chest… because I can’t shake the feeling that none of this was an accident.

12

THEO

One of the men who volunteered earlier to help move the bodies approaches me, Tyler, and Julie. He stands about 6 feet tall, with shaggy blond hair and light eyes. His white shirt hugs his biceps and chest. He politely cuts into our conversation. “Theo, right?” he asks directly.

“Yeah, what can I do for you?”

“It’s about moving the bodies—where should we take them? And where are the backboards you mentioned earlier?”

“I’ll go get them for you. Give me a few minutes. Thank you for doing this. I don’t think I caught your name?”

“It’s Blake,” he answers. “And it’s no problem. I'm on the ship because my sister, Morgan, is a performer in one of the shows. When I last spoke with her, she was getting ready to meet me for dinner. She said she’d be late and would catch up with me in the dining room. I’m hoping to find her…alive.”

Tyler, Julie, and I all look at him with sympathy.

Julie reaches out and gently rubs his arm. “We'll find her,” she says, trying to offer him a glimmer of hope.

A small smile spreads across Blake’s face. “Thanks, I pray you’re right,” he replies. “I don't think she would’ve risked getting on one of the lifeboats without me; maybe she’s hiding in one of the rooms or is trapped somewhere.”