Read Online Titanic: April 1912 by Kathleen Duey - Free Book Online Page A

Rose was still breathing hard. “I could go get our belongings,” she said. “By myself.”
    A scattering of shouts from above made them both look upward. Karolina saw the glaring green trail of a rocket in the ink-black sky. In its garish light, she spotted two small icebergs drifting in the still water. “Do you know the way up to the boat deck, Aunt Rose?” Karolina asked. She could feel her own heartbeat.
    â€œI’ve never even been up this far,” Aunt Rose said. “These stairs are hard for me.”
    â€œLifeboat!” a man shouted above them. “Number seven lifeboat is away!”
    â€œAunt Rose, we’d better hurry,” Karolina said.
    â€œGo on, then,” Aunt Rose told her, making a shooing motion with her hands. “Hurry back. I’ll stay right here and wait for you. But wake Emily on your way past her cabin. Tell her.”
    Karolina nodded and took a step back. Another flare shot skyward. She turned and ran, the image of the fiery rocket swimming before her vision.

Chapter Eight
    â€œYou’re panicking over nothing,” the steward called out as Gavin went through the dining room, veering toward the stairs. Gavin didn’t bother to answer him.
    At the top, Gavin darted out onto C-deck. The doors to the second-class library had been opened wide. There were people standing inside it, their backs to Gavin. One man was talking in a low voice, and the others were leaning close to listen.
    Without slowing, Gavin rounded the corner and dashed out onto the third-class promenade. The shock of the cold night air made him catch his breath. His feet and legs tingled with cold, and he realized for the first time how wet his shoes and trousers had gotten.
    Shoving his way into the doors at the top of the third-class entrance, Gavin nearly ran into a bearded man who walked with his arm around a weeping girl. Just behind them, a middle-aged woman with a shrill voice shook her finger at Gavin, speaking in a language he couldn’t understand.
    At the bottom of the stairs, Gavin looked at the cabin numbers, glancing first to his right. “Fifty-six,” he whispered, and started toward that side. Halfway there he could see the next door. It was room sixty-­two. He spun around and started back across the landing.
    There. Room fifty-five was the first one on the other side. Gavin broke into a run. “Karolina!” he called, knocking. No one answered. He pounded on the door.
    â€œWhat’s all the commotion about?” a woman asked from a cabin across the corridor.
    Gavin looked at her. “You should get your things together and get up to the boat deck, ma’am.” The woman looked startled, then went back inside.
    â€œGavin!”
    He recognized Karolina’s American accent and whirled around to face her. She looked scared. “I’m supposed to meet my aunt up on the boat deck,” she said as she came closer. “I’m getting our cases. How bad is it?”
    â€œThere’s water pouring into the bow,” Gavin told her. Saying it aloud made it seem even more real, more terrifying. “The Titanic is going to sink.” Gavin heard disbelief in his own voice. It was so hard to imagine.
    Gavin stepped back as Karolina opened the door and went in. He stared down the passageway. The door to the next stateroom banged open. Two women marched out, dressed warmly. Their faces were prim and composed as they went past without a word.
    Karolina came out into the corridor, carrying two leather cases. She had two life belts slung over her shoulder. He took the bigger case. “Is that unlocked?” he asked, pointing at the stairwell door across the corridor.
    â€œIt wasn’t before,” Karolina told him.
    He crossed the passageway to try the door. It wouldn’t open. They started back up the corridor. At the foot of the main stairway, Karolina abruptly set down her case and the life belts next to a