فصل 95

florian

The corridor was jammed with passengers.

“Torpedoes! The submarine is under the ship,” someone yelled. Panic flared into a desperate rush of yelling and pushing.

I slung my pack onto my back. I grabbed the little boy and picked him up.

“Do we have to leave the boat?” asked the boy.

“Yes. Hang on to my middle. Tight. Do not let go.”

“Opi!” yelled the boy.

“Yes, yes, Opi’s here,” said the shoe poet. “I’m here.”

“Do you have our coins?” called the boy.

“Yes, I have the coins,” he replied.

My mind raced through the layout of the ship. We were on A deck, front dining hall. We had to climb up, two decks to Joana. Then up to the sundeck. I thought of the four levels below us. The boat tilted farther. Frantic screams splintered through the dark passageway. We would soon be trapped.

“Hurry,” shouted the old man. “Wait, Florian, where’s your life vest?” he asked me.

Alarm bells continued to shriek.

“Walk in front of me,” I yelled to the shoemaker. “I can lift you if I need to.”

The boy on my front, my pack on my back, we pushed our way through the sea of people toward the stairs. The boy clung to my neck, his legs around my stomach, feet locked at the ankles under my pack.

The width of the crowd knocked the fire extinguisher from the wall in the stairwell. It fell and exploded, sending foam everywhere. People began to slip and fall. Others simply scrambled over them. I felt the crunch of bodies underfoot in the dark and the little boy’s panting breaths in my hair. I pushed Poet up in front of me. People grabbed and clawed at my back. I leaned forward, trying to stay upright. And then I felt a pull on my shoulder. It was the strap on my pack.

It snapped.