As the phone went dead, a shuffle came from behind where they stood.
Someone was charging towards them from the back of the coach.
2
The Coach
‘Let me off. Let me off the fucking coach!’
Ben spun around. He sprung forward and dropped the guy like a concrete slab smashing onto the ground. He held his face against the floor of the coach. The guy was muttering, squirming and trying to wriggle loose.
‘Who are you?’ Ben shouted as he eased his right arm off the back of his neck.
‘I’m the driver. I was hiding out at the back. I’m not a part of this.’
‘So how did you get here?’ Ben asked.
The driver said in a London accent, ‘This guy approached me on the way home from work; he said he had a coach. Apparently, he drove for the company in the past and they let him go. He told me all I had to do was take the passengers to the airport. He paid me half and said I’d get the rest when the job was complete. If I didn’t do it, he’d kill me. He knew where I lived; he knew my son’s name. His instructions were to get in the driver’s seat and not to look at anyone. If I didn’t do it, he’d kill me. I have a fucking family, man. I agreed to do it; he gave instructions, where to find the coach.’
The driver, his face still pressed to the floor, continued, ‘I hadn’t heard from him and assumed he’d decided against it. Then, he turned up again as I came out of the depot, telling me what I had to do. I went to the address. I got on the coach, found the keys in the ignition. It should have been a simple job, there and back, return the coach where I’d found it. As I drove, this guy flagged us down. He told me the road was closed. Something about a tree coming down and there being no way around: he directed me along this road. He assured me it was a diversion. I shouted, knowing the road would bring us back around. A hood concealed his face but I knew it was him; I recognised the voice. As I turned up here, he walked in front. I kept driving, watching him in front until he turned towards me.’
The driver swallowed, and then said, ‘He was holding a shotgun. I got off the seat and charged down to the back. He made his way up the steps, onto the coach. He fired. Two shots into the ceiling. The noise was deafening. I dropped to the floor.
‘The coach was full of people screaming, begging for their lives. I could hear him, hitting people with the butt of his gun. Then it went quiet. I heard his footsteps, moving towards me. I kept still. I couldn’t let him know where I was or alert him I was hiding. I guess he didn’t look for me as his feud is with the passengers. A minute or so later, I heard people getting off the coach. He jumped onto the road and they walked away.’
Ben helped the guy up. He looked at him, seeing the anguish in his eyes. The pity. He wore a heavy jumper, jeans and his hair was long and scruffy. It looked like it hadn’t been cut for months. He had a thick beard, but it was neat, shaped. ‘He’s watching us,’ Ben informed the driver.
‘How do you know?’
Ben pointed to the dashboard. He’d returned the phone where he’d found it. ‘He called a few minutes ago, giving me instructions. Saying we’d find out why this is happening. If I let anyone go, he’ll kill us all. The guy’s messed up. What’s your name?’
‘I’m Andrew.’ He held out his hand, gripping Ben’s.
‘Good to meet you, although I’d prefer if it were under better circumstances,’ Ben joked.
‘I heard a phone ringing. I couldn’t make out the voice. I hoped it was someone who was going to help,’ Andrew said. ‘It’s obvious that isn’t the case.’
‘We need to stay put. Keep calm.’ Ben introduced his wife and daughter, then he moved to the door. He turned back to Andrew. ‘What did the guy look like?’
Andrew hesitated, recalling. ‘He was tall, well built. I only saw him from a distance. It was definitely the same guy who approached me, asking me to drive the coach. He wore a yellow mac which glowed, bright stripes or badges at the top of his sleeves. That’s all I remember. He’s going to kill us, isn’t he?’
‘Try not to panic. We need to stay focused.’ Ben turned, addressing the passengers. ‘Look, my name is Ben Stevens. We won’t hurt you.’ He placed his hand on his daughter’s shoulder, edging her forward into view. ‘This is Milly, my daughter. She’s eighteen, and wants to study law. She still lives at home but is moving out soon. She has a boyfriend. I admit, he’s a bit of an arsehole. But what father likes their daughter’s boyfriend, right? Sorry, Milly.’
Milly was wiping the vomit from her mouth with the back of her hand. ‘Talk, Milly,’ he murmured to his daughter. ‘Say something. Make them feel at ease.’
She stared at the faces of the passengers as they watched her, their eyes focused. ‘Hi. We’re on our way to the airport. We’re going to Barcelona.’ Milly went silent as the situation dawned on her.
Her mother stepped forward. ‘Look, we’re going to get help. I’m so sorry for what’s happened. We’ll do our best to get you all out of here safely.’ Laura’s voice cracked. She turned around, holding her hands to her face. Once she’d composed herself, she turned to Ben. ‘We need to remove their gags.’
‘We can’t. You heard what the guy said on the phone. Release them, and he’ll finish all of us.’
Laura thought for a second. Her body was shaking. She fought the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, knowing she had to take charge of herself and gain control. The coach was like an ice bucket. She looked towards the windows, knowing the guy may be outside. Watching them. Trickles of water dripped down the glass as the condensation began to clear. ‘He said we couldn’t untie them. He never mentioned anything about removing the gags from their mouths.’ Laura looked towards the elderly couple at the front. ‘Quick, Ben. Help these people.’
They moved to each of the passengers. Laura went to the elderly couple first, gently undoing the knots in the cloths tied around their mouths.
Relief was clear on the old guy’s face as he gulped air deep into his lungs. He pushed forward, struggling to get loose, turning his head to the left. ‘Mary, are you okay?’ There was fear in his wife’s eyes but she nodded. Then, sharply, he directed a question to Laura. ‘Our son and daughter-in-law were sat directly behind us. Have they been taken? It all happened so quickly.’
Laura was silent. She glanced at the woman behind, then looked at the empty seat next to her. After a few seconds, she crouched beside the older man. ‘Your daughter-in-law is here. We’ll find your son.’
‘I heard the gunshots. I was asleep. He was like a wild animal, then he marched people off the coach. I’m Edward. This is my wife, Mary.’
Laura leant forward, pushing Edward’s long grey hair out of his face. He looked like a drinker; his cheeks were heavily veined. His skin was lined and wrinkled. His wife wore glasses, and her hair was brown and shoulder-length, resting on her black jacket. She looked slightly younger than her husband.
‘I’m Laura Stevens. Sit tight for the moment until we work out how to get you off the coach,’ she instructed. Laura joined her husband, moving slowly along the coach, making sure everyone was as comfortable as possible. She reached a woman on her left side who was sitting alone. ‘I’m Laura. I’m here with my husband and daughter. We’re going to get you help. As soon as it’s safe, we’ll get you out of here. Were you travelling alone?’ she asked.