The Passengers(81)

Next to the countdown clock new digits appeared, a calculation of the distance the Passengers were from the impact zone. 2 Miles, it read. Libby swallowed hard.

A computer-generated map appeared along with three-dimensional CGI graphics of vehicles moving towards a pinpointed area. On other screens, the Passengers could be viewed from inside through their dashboard cameras, and from outside via drones and helicopters pursuing them.

With their roles now complete, Cadman and his team hovered at the back of the room while jurors rose to their feet and moved towards the centre to watch the Hacker execute the final part of his plan. Jack chose to remain where he was, by the sealed exit. Libby briefly cast her eye over him. His posture was no longer quite so upright, his expression less indomitable. Now the truth was exposed, Libby assumed he was likely trying to devise a way out of his dilemma. His position as an MP and cabinet minister was no longer tenable, his finances erased and he would likely face a criminal investigation for what he had helped to orchestrate. He deserved everything that was coming to him and more.

For now, she would waste no more time thinking about him. Instead, she focused on Jude. Libby desperately wanted to talk to him one last time, but she had no words to make his situation any more bearable. And as harrowing as it would be for her to watch, she owed it to him to be there when his car collided with the others. They were in this together.

1.7 miles read the distance counter.

Jude appeared composed, she thought, as if he were resigned to his fate. She remembered why. He had already come to terms with his planned death earlier that morning. The end result of what was about to happen was what he had wished for. If only I’d heard your name back in the bar, she thought. This could’ve all been so different for the both of us.

The muffled tones of two news anchors offering a blow-by-blow account of what was on screen could only just be heard amongst the muttering in the room. ‘Can you turn the volume up?’ asked Matthew and the Hacker obliged.

‘… and with just over a minute left, it appears certain the five Passengers will collide on the grounds of the former Kelly & Davis car plant, the last of the traditional British manufacturers to close shortly before the start of the Road Revolution. Pregnant Claire Arden, who is now believed to be in premature labour, was chosen by the jury to survive this ordeal, but, as yet, her vehicle is showing no sign of being withdrawn. Emergency services are already stationed at the site and have issued a statement that says while its personnel are unable to prevent or interfere with the actual collision when it happens, they will attempt to minimise the aftermath by sending in fire fighters to tackle the blaze and paramedics to help the injured.’

1.3 miles.

Libby’s focus moved towards Claire, who was now bent double, her lips pursed, eyes tightly shut and clutching her stomach as she awaited the end of another painful contraction. ‘Why haven’t you let her out?’ Libby directed at the Hacker. ‘You said you would if we voted for her. We’ve done everything you told us to do, it’s time to keep your end of the deal.’ She was greeted by his silence.

Next, Libby looked towards Sam. His leg was twitching and his hands were clasped together as if in prayer. Meanwhile Heidi held her phone in her hands, whispering into the receiver. With no signal, Libby assumed she was recording a message for her children in the hope the device might survive the crash. The only Passenger she was unable to see belonged to Sofia, who remained a blur behind her scarf.

What must be going through their heads? Libby wondered, then tried and failed to put herself in their shoes. She remembered how, while attending university, she had volunteered her weekends to assist in a hospice offering palliative care to those with terminal illnesses. Much of her time was spent comforting people close to death. They had given her an insight into how people come to terms with the inevitable in their own individual ways. But she struggled to comprehend how it might feel to be a Passenger, watching the clock and counting down the seconds to their murder.

1 Mile.

Libby returned to Jude. His eyes were now closed. She imagined her hand on his chest as it rose and fell with each breath. She wondered if, before today, he had written letters to friends or his estranged brother to explain his decision. Her brother Nicky had left no note. He was in his bedroom turning a light fitting into a noose as his family were preparing his ‘welcome home’ lunch downstairs. As her father cut him down and ran to phone for help, Libby put her ear to his lips and shook him, as if to release any last words that were caught in his throat. But he had nothing left to say.

0.8 Miles.

The first of the five cars followed by its army escorts appeared within the perimeters of the area but from that height and angle, Libby couldn’t work out to whom it belonged. It was closely followed by a second vehicle taking an alternative approach, then a third, fourth and a fifth. They were all equidistant from one another. This is it, thought Libby, this is where it all comes to an end. She fought to catch her breath.

Someone’s touch brought her out of herself. On instinct, she recoiled when a hand grasped hers. She turned to see that it belonged to Muriel, whose other hand was holding Fiona’s. In turn, she held Matthew’s hand. They remained in a line, staring up at the screens as if anticipating the Rapture. No matter what their opinions had been of one another earlier that day, they had since united in a camaraderie. Without speaking, Libby accepted Muriel’s hand.

0.6 Miles.