stopped to move furniture and push pieces of ceiling or wall aside. Sometimes he crawled over the wreckage, sometimes he wriggled under it, driven by a new urgency. The tilted deck meant the ship was taking on water. He got to the wall and called out his wife's name again. She replied from fine other side. Frantic now, he groped for any opening in, the barrier, found the bottom was loose, and pulled until he made a hole big enough for him to squeeze through on his belly.
His cabin was in semidarkness, shapes and objects awash in a faint light. He stood up and looked toward the source of the illumination. A cool salty breeze blew against his sweaty face. He couldn't believe his eyes. The outside cabin wall was gone! In its place was a gigantic hole through which he could see moonlight reflected on the ocean. He worked feverishly, and minutes later he was at his wife's side. He wiped the blood off her forehead and cheeks with a corner of his pajama top and tenderly kissed her.
"I can't move," she said almost apologetically.
Whatever it was that had sent him hurling into the next cabin had ripped the steel frame of Myra's bat from the floor and pushed it against the wall like the spring in a mousetrap. Myra was in a near upright position, luckily cushioned from the pressure of the tangle of bedsprings by the mattress but jammed against the wall by the frame. To her back was the steel shaft of a ship's elevator. Her one free arm dangled at her right side.
Carey wrapped his fingers around the edge of the frame. He was in his midfifties but still strong from his days as a laborer.. He pulled with the considerable power of his big body. The frame yielded slightly only to spring back in place soon as he let go, He tried to pry the frame with a length of wood but stopped when Myra called out in pain. He tossed the wood aside in disgust.
"Darling," he said, trying to keep his voice calm, "I'm going to get help. I'll have to leave you. Just a little while. I'll be back. I promise."
"Jake, you have to. save yourself. The ship"
"You're 'not getting rid of me that easily, my love."
"Don't be stubborn, for Godsakes."
He kissed her face again. Her skin, normally so warm to the touch, felt clammy. "Think about sunshine in Tuscany while you're waiting. I'll be back soon. Promise." He squeezed her hand and, unlocking door from the inside, went out into the corridor without the slightest idea what he was going to do. A strong looking heavyset man. came toward him. Jake grabbed the mans shoulder and started to ask for help.
"Outtamyway!" With a whiteeyed stare the man shouldered Jake aside despite Carey's size.
He tried frantically to recruit a couple more men before giving up. No Samaritans here. It was like trying to snag a steer out of a thirstcrazed herd of cattle stampeding for a water hole. He couldn't blame them for running for their lives. He'd be dragging Myra for high ground if she were free. He decided his fellow passengers would be useless. He had to find someone from the crew. Struggling to keep his footing against the slant of the deck, he joined the throng heading for the higher decks.
Angelo had made a quick survey of the ship and didn't like what he saw, especially on the starboard side, which was dipping ever lower toward the sea.
Carry's soiled pajama top so he wouldn't lose him. ,They dashed down one staircase to the upper deck, where most of the firstclass cabins were. By then only a few oilcovered stragglers were making their way along the hallways.
Angelo was shocked when he saw Mrs. Carry. She looked as if she were in a medieval torture rack. Her eyes were dosed, and for an instant he thought she was dead. But at her husband's gentle touch her eyelids fluttered.
"Told you I'd be back, darling," Carry said. "Look, Angelo here has come to, help."
Angelo took her hand and gallantly kissed it. She gave him a melting smile.
Both men grabbed