Is Passengers 2016 Book Worth Reading Compared To The Movie?

My best friend, Dominic Vale, and his girlfriend have created a couple's channel. Lately, their channel has gone viral on the Internet. I subscribe to their channel instantly. Every time they upload a new reel, I'll always watch it. But I keep having a feeling that Dominic's girlfriend, whose looks are censored in the videos, acts just like my wife, Cara Hartley. When I bring it up in front of Dominic, he punches me in the chest. "Oliver Beckett, you lovesick bastard! You see your darling wife in everyone! At this point, I'm going to get really jealous!" I just chuckle stupidly while rubbing my chest. Then, I quickly change the topic. When Cara's company goes on a field trip, I decide to drag Dominic along. Unexpectedly, something occurs during our flight back to the city. An air stewardess distributes notes to all the passengers so that we can write down our wills. With a trembling hand, I finish scribbling my note. When I glance at Dominic and Cara, I realize that they've written each other's names on their notes. Then, Cara turns on her camera, which shows both her and Dominic in the same frame. "Dominic, I'm very happy that I get to be with you during my final moments in life. Everyone, we won't be updating this channel anymore. Goodbye." But she fails to notice the way my face has gone pale outside the frame. Thankfully, the plane lands safely on the tarmac. All of us are still alive. Instead of kicking up a ruckus, I tear the note in my hands before opening the car door. "What are you still standing around for? Get in."

When my wife called the control tower for emergency assistance, I took off my headset, put on my earbuds and started listening to music. In my previous life, when her aircraft suffered a critical malfunction, I did everything I could to save her. I walked her through the emergency procedures, coordinated the landing, and brought more than one hundred passengers safely back to the ground. But when I ran to meet her with tears in my eyes, she pointed at me and screamed, "Why did you deliberately give me the wrong instructions? You almost killed everyone on the plane!" As the crowd turned on me, my best friend, the first officer, pretended to defend me. "Everyone, calm down. Don't go too far." I saved every life on that flight only to be trampled to death by the very people I had rescued. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the morning their flight took off.

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On the day of my daughter’s graduation trip, I ended up late because of work. When I rushed to the airport, I was stopped at the counter. “Sir, we don’t have your ticket details in the system.” I stood stunned for two seconds. I called my wife Sue Jenkins a dozen times before she finally picked up. “Did you buy a ticket for me?” It sounded very noisy on her end and her voice kept being cut off. “I accidentally filled in Clement’s name instead of yours, so I thought I’d just bring him along on the trip. I was so busy boarding the plane just now, I forgot to tell you. If you want to join us, take the next flight in…” My daughter’s voice suddenly sounded through the phone. “Dad, just do your work in peace. It’s good enough to have Mom and Clement with me on my graduation trip.” The call got cut off. The airport was bustling with people, but I stood rooted to the ground for a long time with my luggage case behind me. Sorrow filled my heart. When I was young, my mom was always biased toward my brother. She would always tell me that the elder brother should always give in to his younger brother. After growing up and having my own family, my wife took a liking for my younger brother. Even my daughter liked pestering him on a daily basis. I looked at the itinerary I spent many nights preparing. Exhaustion filled me. I picked up my phone and sent the resignation email I had typed out long ago to my company. Then, I booked a one-way flight ticket scheduled seven days later. Since I was always excluded, I decided to take the initiative to leave.

Helen Sinclair walked out of a penthouse with nothing but a bag she'd packed four months before she needed it. No note. No explanation. Just a text — I can't do this anymore — and she left. She had married Alexander Sinclair because her father's company was drowning and the Sinclair name was the only life raft available. Nobody told her that. She figured it out herself, eighteen months too late, sitting on a cold bathroom floor with a positive pregnancy test while her husband's voice carried through the wall on another call that mattered more than she did. So she left. Three years later she is Helen Carter, living in Boston. Small apartment, a plant named Gerald, a job she earned herself. A quiet life entirely hers. She is also fourteen weeks pregnant with a child Alexander doesn't know exists. Then Julian Cross calls. He knows you're in Boston. He's coming himself. Alexander arrives with no team, no lawyers, no plan — which is so unlike him it frightens her. He says he just needed to see she was okay. She almost believes him. Then his eyes drop to her stomach and she watches him understand everything without a single word. What follows is a collision neither of them is prepared for. Alexander, who has never chased anything, now refuses to leave. Helen, who rebuilt herself from nothing, refuses to be pulled back. Julian Cross is realizing he has feelings for the woman his employer never deserved. And Nina Sinclair is about to blow everything open before Helen gets to decide anything herself. This is not a story about a woman who gets rescued. It's about one who makes the man who lost her prove he's worth finding again — on her terms, or not at all.

During a long holiday, my husband booked flights for a family vacation. On the way to the airport, I suddenly saw numbers appearing on everyone’s head. The numbers on my husband’s head indicated sixty years, but my parents and I had only six hours indicated on our heads. While I was puzzled over the meaning of those numbers, I noticed that the driver next to us only had six seconds indicated over his head through the car window. Five… Four… Three… Two… One. When the number turned zero, a massive truck immediately rammed into the car next to us. I saw flickers of fire, flesh and blood exploding before my eyes. People were screaming for help, but I could not hear anything. I trembled as cold sweat drenched my entire body. It was because my flight would be taking off in six hours.