By the Light of the Silvery Moon (35 page)

“I told him I didn’t want anything. I asked for a job at one of the shipping depots.”

“Of course you did.” And with that Damien lunged forward.

A flash of silver caught Quentin’s eye. A knife! A second later it plunged into his leg.

Pain shot through him. More pain shot through his heart. His brother … how could his brother do this? Wasn’t it bad enough they were going down on the ship? A small cry escaped his lips.

“Why?” A moan escaped his lips.

“Why? You weren’t the one who had to look into our father’s eyes every day and see emptiness there. To know that what I offered wasn’t enough. To know
I
wasn’t enough.”

“This has nothing to do with you!” Quentin gripped his leg, and blood flowed over his fingers. My leaving had nothing to do with you. So don’t do this. Don’t make this about you!” He hobbled backward, attempting to put space between himself and his brother. He felt light-headed, and the deck around him seemed to sway.
Amelia.
At least she was safe. He could die tonight knowing he’d done at least one good thing.

“It’s not about me, Brother. If it was, I wouldn’t do this,” Damien hissed. Then he bent over, lowered his shoulder, and rushed forward. Quentin gasped and tried to turn, to run, bracing for the blow, but it was no use. The wind escaped his lungs, and he felt himself falling, just as he’d fallen into the pond so long ago.

With all the strength in him, Damien lowered his shoulder and rushed his brother. He connected with Quentin’s sternum. Quentin’s breath escaped in a low grunt.

Around him voices stilled as passengers and crew all turned. Gasps filled the air.

Damien stepped back, meeting Quentin’s eyes with his. He expected to see anger there but instead noted defeat.

“You think you deserve this, don’t you?” The words seethed through clenched teeth. “I’ll show you what you deserve.”

He pulled back a hand again, balling his fist. He ignored the blood already seeping through Quentin’s pants. Then, just as his fist was to connect with Quentin’s jaw, his younger brother jerked his head. Damien’s hand smashed the metal wall of the salon.

“Listen. Do you really want it to end like this? We’re both going to die tonight as it is.” The words shot from Quentin’s mouth.

“Not if I can help it!” Grabbing his brother around the waist, Damien spun Quentin around, plowing him toward the rail of the A deck. A woman’s scream split the air, but Damien wasn’t sure if it was from the scuffle or from the tilt of the ship as it plunged deeper into the water.

Releasing slightly, Damien felt Quentin stagger back. He attempted to put weight on his injured leg, but it crumpled.

Struggling for breath, Quentin leaned forward, pressing his hands on his knees. “Damien, please! I ask your forgiveness again.”

“I forgive you, Quentin.” With those words came tears. “Now I just pray you can forgive me.”

Then, with all the strength in him, Damien rushed forward. Arms opened, he wrapped them around Quentin’s legs and lifted. Damien jerked upward, lifting, pressing, pushing.

A cry escaped Quin’s lips as his calves caught on the rail, but there was nothing to keep him from falling.

Damien released. Shock registered on Quin’s face. His arms flailed as if he swam through the air. The crowd called out protests. Quentin’s body hit the deck below with a thud.

Damien turned and rushed down the steps, taking them two at a time.

His brother still struggled for consciousness as he approached.

“Why?” Quentin murmured.

Instead of answering, Damien turned the knife and struck the handle against the side of his brother’s head. Quentin’s head fell back onto the deck. His eyes closed and he let out a moan. He’d been waiting a long time to do that. A gasp escaped Damien’s lips as he realized what he’d done. He pressed his lips together and pushed against his brother’s shoulder, ensuring he was indeed unconscious.

Fellow passengers pointed, but Damien paid them no mind. From the moment he knew the ship was going to sink, he also knew what he had to do.

Hunching down, Damien mustered all his strength, and he picked up Quentin’s limp form. His brother was lighter than he’d thought, and Damien realized how hard the last few years had been on him. With staggering steps, he carried his younger brother to the nearest lifeboat, which was only half full. The sailor lifted his hand. “Women and children only.”

“I saw men being loaded on the other side. I’m not asking to get in. But my brother’s been injured by another man. It’ll be too hard for me to carry him all the way over there. Won’t you just let me lay him in?”

“I’ll care for him,” a seated woman said.

The sailor appeared unsure, but Damien didn’t hesitate. He rushed over and placed his brother into the floor of the boat, at the woman’s feet. Then, not waiting for a response, he turned and jogged away as quickly as he could. With each step, he asked God to forgive him for his lie.

His brother had been found. His father couldn’t lose him again. To do so would break his father’s heart. For the last twenty-one years, he’d always been the one to care for his father’s interest. There was no use stopping now.

Damien neared the promenade deck, looking for his father, but he didn’t see him.

Maybe he’d made it into one of the boats. He hoped so. It was the only reason why his father wouldn’t be here. Unless … Damien considered how easily his father got lost. Why hadn’t he walked him to a boat himself? Why had he left to search for Quentin instead?
Did I make a mistake?

Passengers filled the decks. People cried out in despair as they realized the decks were full and there were only a few more lifeboats.

A young man leaped into the next lifeboat, jumping ahead of the ladies in line. The sailor onboard leveled his pistol. “I’ll give you just ten seconds to get back onto that ship before I blow your brains out!”

“Please, my father is waiting for me in New York. My mother just died. He needs me.”

“For God’s sake, be a man. We’ve got women and children to save.”

With his head hung low, the young man climbed from his seat.

“Look, another one!” someone shouted, pointing. Another man was curled on the floor behind a seat, hiding. The sailor grabbed his arm and pulled him up, shoving him back onto the deck. Angry cries filled the air as men turned their fists on him. Wincing, Damien turned away.

Just then a steward approached. His eyes were wide, desperate.

He grabbed Damien’s arm. “Can someone help me, please?”

“What’s the problem?”

“There are women and children below! I need help bringing them up. I can’t do it alone!”

Damien nodded. “I’ll follow you and bring up a group.”

He was thankful the lights were still on as he followed the man through a maze of tunnels. When they reached the third-class staterooms, the halls were filled with people. Water sloshed around their ankles.

“Why are they still here?” he asked the steward. The liner was listing to the side, and still they remained by their things. Maybe they believed some safety device would kick in and they’d all be saved.

Damien rushed toward an older man. “You have to leave your suitcase.”

“I can’t. It has everything. All I own. I’ll wait.” He lifted his chin in determination. “When I can bring my things, I’ll come.”

“You’ll die if you don’t come!” he said. But the man wouldn’t relent.

He approached other people, urging them to follow, but they couldn’t seem to understand English.

“I come with you, ja!” a man called out then spoke in German to those near him as he rushed forward with his family. Tears filled Damien’s eyes as he glanced at the man’s wife and their children. More passengers saw what was happening and joined them.

With Damien leading the way, they walked up the stairs to the third-class lounge. Next they passed the well deck, and soon the second-class library. Along a stretch of corridor they moved past the surgeon’s office. Then he led them into the private dining salon and finally to the grand staircase. Mothers urged children to walk faster as they climbed to the top, but even then he knew it wasn’t any use. What good had his help accomplished? They would all still die in the icy waters. There would be no use in going back below to lead any more up. They all had to wait now. Wait until God’s angels carried them to heaven.

When no boats remained, Damien knew his time on earth neared the end. Like a moth to the light, he moved toward the orchestra that still played on the deck. A hymn started that he recognized, and his voice lifted with the others standing there. As he sang, he looked around at the men who still stood on the ship. Major Butt, Colonel Astor, Mr. Case, Mr. Thayer, Mr. Moore, and Mr. Widener. All multimillionaires. Around them stood hundreds of other men. At that moment, money did not matter. Status did not matter. Rich or poor, they would die together.

He approached Colonel Astor. “Sir, have you seen my father?”

“Damien, yes. Yes, I believe I have. I saw him in one of the lifeboats as it was rowing away. There were no more women near, so they invited him in.” Colonel Astor smiled bravely.

Why hadn’t the colonel joined them?

“Thank you.” The words escaped in a breath. His father was safe—or as safe as one could be on the waters. His brother, too, was in a boat. And Amelia? Quentin had seen to it she had made it. As much as his brother still angered Damien, Quentin had done the right thing. And maybe … maybe with Amelia by his side, he would continue to do so. Damien had hope in that. He would not be there to see it, but he prayed they would be there to care for the old man.

His lip curled up in a small smirk. It was the first time he’d allowed his father to travel without him. Maybe his father wasn’t as delicate as he’d thought.

The ship creaked under his feet and sank lower. The deck tilted slightly, and the orchestra played another song. Damien lifted his voice with a few of the others. The rest stood around in stony silence, no doubt a thousand thoughts and worries filling their minds.

“Sure and steadfast by Thy side,” Damien whispered even after the last note was played. And then it happened—water rushed over the ship’s side, running over his feet and ankles.

He looked around and noticed that no one panicked. No one cried. They all knew their fate. They stood as quietly as if they were in church, and the fact was they most likely would all soon meet their Maker.

Even though he knew most wouldn’t last long in the water, something told him to try.

Walking toward the rail, Damien stumbled and fell in the icy water. It sloshed around his legs, stealing the breath from his lungs with its chill. His body numbed as the cold pierced his skin. He rose and staggered like a drunken man toward the rail. Questions plagued each step. Why hadn’t he gotten into a boat when he had the chance? Maybe if he could swim to one they’d pull him in….

Panic set in as he looked to the dark ocean. Colonel Aster had told him his father had made it into the lifeboat. He’d believed him, but what if he was mistaken? What if his father was still somewhere on this ship? After all the years Damien cared for him, always staying by his side, he couldn’t imagine his father dying alone. His stomach clenched and heaved, and he didn’t know if it was from the cold or worry. Probably both.