The Final Six (The Final Six #1) - Alexandra Monir Page 0,15

Elena grabs my wrist. She flings her arms around me in one last hug before whispering in my ear, “Remember everything I told you. Keep your eyes and ears open, and your guard up.”

“I will. Don’t worry, Elena.”

But as I settle into my seat on the boat, watching my neighbors on the docks grow smaller, all I can think about is the adventure ahead.

Elena’s warnings are already forgotten.

The sleek white Gulfstream lowers in the sky toward us, its engine emitting an earsplitting roar. Dr. Schroder pulls me back, and the two of us duck as the jet slides onto the Tuscan Airfield runway in a perfect landing.

“Did I tell you I’ve never been on an airplane before?” I shout above the noise.

Dr. Schroder’s eyebrows shoot up.

“It’s true,” I say with a chuckle. “We never had the money for transcontinental travel, so all our family trips were by train, within Europe.”

He places a hand on my shoulder. “And now you might be one of the few to travel farther than anyone else on this Earth.”

The thought sends a flash of excitement through me. The farther I get from Rome, the more I want this—and the harder it is to imagine ever returning.

The jet parks on the concrete before us. Its automatic doors slide open, and a set of stairs unfurls from them. Our pilot, a captain from the Italian army, steps outside to greet Dr. Schroder and me, ushering us into the compact passenger cabin where we take our seats.

“It’s so much more personal than it looks on TV,” I comment to Dr. Schroder.

“Yeah, well, those big commercial airliners are a thing of the past,” he says grimly. “Now that more than half of the world’s tourist destinations are underwater, there’s no need for them. This generation of kids growing up will likely never experience air travel, unless they work for the government or military.”

“Speaking of, am I now considered part of the Italian army?” I ask. “Since I’ve technically been drafted?”

“You are representing Italy, but as part of a new World Army,” Dr. Schroder explains. “It’s all of us fighting together now . . . fighting to save the human race.”

I nod, trying to appear calm, even as his words push my anticipation into overdrive.

“We’re cleared for takeoff.” The captain’s voice echoes over the loudspeaker. “Please ensure your seat belts are fastened.”

“Copy that,” Dr. Schroder calls back.

I grip my armrest as the jet lurches forward. And then, like a thrill ride from the old amusement parks, we hurtle up into the sky at breakneck speed. The cabin shakes as the plane skims the clouds, my stomach flipping over with each pitch of the aircraft.

“Are flights usually this bumpy?”

Dr. Schroder shifts in his seat to face me, looking almost as queasy as I feel. “They didn’t used to be. It’s another one of climate change’s side effects—the warming temperatures strengthened the jet stream winds and turned the skies hostile. But believe it or not, we’re safer up here than we are down there.”

“I believe it!”

I turn to the window, keeping my eyes locked on the glass to distract from the bumps and dips of the plane, and soon I’ve lost track of how much time has elapsed. It isn’t until the anxiety presses against my chest that I realize I’m waiting for something that isn’t coming—a break from the blue. The endless ocean dominates my view, overwhelming the dots of green and tiny slivers of land.

“You can see it clearly from up here: why this mission is so crucial,” Dr. Schroder says, following my gaze. “Not long ago, when you were a child, the scenery below was vastly different. The scientists and climatologists tried to warn the public about the risks of carbon emissions and pollution, but . . .” He shakes his head. “Well, it’s too late now. And we don’t have much time left if we’re going to escape the rising seas.”

“No,” I agree, staring at the foreboding stretch of blue. “We don’t have much time at all.”

NAOMI

It seems like all of Los Angeles is on the tarmac at Burbank Airport, watching as my heart breaks. I hold on to my family, trying to block out the noise and the pressure as the crowd shrieks my name, flashing their camera-phones and waving signs proclaiming the Twenty-Four “Our last chance for survival!” Only a few minutes remain until the NASA official and army major will come tear me away from my family. Dad pulls the three of us into a