“You expect me to just abandon my little girl here all alone,” the young woman said, sobbing. “She’s all I have, and I’m all she has.”
“Where is her father?”
“Her father’s dead.”
“Well, I won’t tell you to leave your daughter, that is a decision only you can make. I can only warn you of the outcome if you stay. And that goes for everyone. Should you choose to stay behind and watch your loved ones die, know that you will fall to the same fate. Once these doors close, there is no coming back out. Your friends and family did not choose to die, I recommend you don’t either. That’s all. I’ll give you a few minutes to say your final goodbyes, and then times up.”
Lightoller paced around the room, watching the non-infected passengers hug and cry and tell their sick family and friends how much they loved them. The whole scene made him nauseous. He couldn’t help but feel partly responsible. He had, after all, been left in charge to secure the hospital, and allowed O’Loughlin to break through his defenses. All he could do now was wallow in his regret, while sad eyes tore at his heartstrings. He had delivered something akin to the last rites to eighteen people, and had felt more like their executioner.
Murdoch returned from the bridge, nodding at Lightoller across the room.
Lightoller strolled over. “What did he say?”
“He was very stressed. I don’t think he quite expected it to be this bad.”
“None of us did.”
“Still, he trusts our judgment.”
“That’s nice to know.”
“Did you tell them?”
Lightoller nodded. “They were shocked, as expected. Some of them are even determined to stay. I can’t say I blame them. It’s a lot to accept in a short amount of time. I just wish they’d find the strength to save themselves. But it’s their choice.”
Fifth Officer Lowe stepped up beside them.
“The captain said he wanted one of us to stand guard outside the door at all times,” Murdoch said.
“Given what happened at the hospital, I’d say that’s reasonable,” said Lightoller.
“You’re first,” Murdoch said to Lowe.
“Yes, sir.”
“You’re gonna need protection.” Murdoch pulled the Webley revolver from his waistband and presented it to Lowe.
“Got my own.” Lowe pulled open his coat and showed off the seven-shot Browning revolver.
Murdoch shrugged. “Very well.”
“We better get a move on, aye,” said Lightoller.
“Yes, indeed.”
Lightoller stepped out and said, “Everyone, it’s time.”
Along with the young mother who wouldn’t leave her daughter, three others chose to stay, leaving a total of twenty-two locked inside the general room. Lowe stood watch outside while Lightoller and Murdoch retrieved a small table and chair from storage. They set the table up opposite the door to the general room. Lowe placed his revolver on the table and sat down.
“Need anything else?” Murdoch asked.
“Cup of coffee would be nice.”
Lightoller smirked. “We’ve got some unfinished business to attend to right now. Maybe we’ll bring you one when we get back, if you’re still here.”
“I can’t leave,” said Lowe. “So thanks, I guess.”
“Just don’t let anyone alive or dead through that door.”
“The dead can’t walk, so...”
“You’d be surprised,” Lightoller replied.
As they walked away, Murdoch turned to Lightoller and whispered, “What unfinished business?”
“Follow me.”
Lightoller led Murdoch down the third-class stairway one floor down to D-deck. He quickly glanced into the men’s lavatory, and then in the third-class hospital. The cleanup was going better than he expected. Boxhall had done an admirable job assembling a team so quickly and for such an unpleasant task.
They continued through the second-class section of rooms where most of the passengers had been bitten, and where Lightoller had encountered Dr. Simpson and the mother and son. He was again pleased to see a lot of progress had already been made. All the bodies were gone, though the images he wouldn’t likely forget for a long time, especially the look on the young boy’s face. He had to tell himself to remain focused, even as a chill ran up his spine.
“Where are we going?” Murdoch asked, following Lightoller through the second-class dining saloon back to the main hospital.
“You said you went to O’Loughlin’s room but he wouldn’t answer, right?”
“Yes, and the door was locked.”
Lightoller stopped at a small staircase across from the infectious rooms that led up to C-deck.
“I think you may have caught him at a bad time. He might answer now.”
O’Loughlin’s room was right at the top of the stairway on the right, positioned for quick access to the hospital in case he was needed for an emergency. A surgical room was on the left. Dr. Simpson’s and Steward William Dunford’s rooms were further down the hall.
Lightoller stopped in front of O’Loughlin’s room and knocked on the door. A moment later, they heard the moaning.
“Told you he might answer.”
“He’s infected? How did you know?”
“I didn’t. Not for sure, at least,” Lightoller said. “I caught him sneaking around in the third-class hospital earlier in the evening. When I confronted him about his intentions, he became defensive. Two of the patients were his friends, and he had issues accepting the reality of what had become of them. So he went in there later and tried to feed them. I’m sure you noticed the bread and water all over the floor. Instead, he became the food, and you know the rest. He probably came back here and locked the door after being bitten, knowing the dangerous monster he’d become—the monster we now have to destroy.” O’Loughlin moaned louder, as though he didn’t approve of what Lightoller was saying about him. “You loaded?” Lightoller removed his Webley and checked the cylinder.
Murdoch drew his gun and did the same.
They both thumbed back the hammer on their revolvers and then took turns kicking in the door. The door finally gave way and broke open, knocking the doctor backward to the floor. The two officers raised their revolvers and waited for O’Loughlin to right himself before shooting. The doctor had something repulsive growing out of his neck and numerous other pus-producing lacerations across his face and hands. His clothes were stained with blood from head to toe.
O’Loughlin took two steps toward the open door before being peppered with gunfire. Both Lightoller and Murdoch knew to aim high, placing most of the rounds into the head and neck. They shot until their guns went click and they were out of rounds. No need to reload. They had done enough. O’Loughlin crumbled to the floor in an awkward position with his back twisted unnaturally.
Lightoller looked over at Murdoch shaking in his boots. “You okay?”
Murdoch drew in a deep breath and said, “No.”
“I think we’ve both had enough of this for one night.”
ANDREWS
He had gone to bed early, and slept good and long. Upon waking Sunday morning, he felt refreshed and full of vigor, ready for what he hoped to be a day of relaxation.