The Final Six (The Final Six #1) - Alexandra Monir Page 0,45

on as he catches up, running to the hurdles. Just as Leo soars over the second-to-last hurdle, a four-foot-high gust of water bursts from the floor. I gasp, but he doesn’t stop moving, his face a mask of determination. Another blast of water hits right before his final jump, and in one of the most stunning sights I’ve ever seen, Leo takes a flying leap, soaring above the water plume and hitting the finish line.

“Wow,” I whisper.

Asher finishes not far behind, and then the whistle blows for Katerina and Beckett. Knowing we’re next has me too jittery to watch, and instead I attempt to give Suki a pep talk.

“Once we get out there, for these next few minutes, just try to block out whatever you’re feeling, okay? Pretend you’re as good as on your healthiest day, and just . . . just go kick ass.”

She nods, but her eyes are distant, her face sweaty even in this cold. My heart sinks.

“And . . . next!”

“That’s us,” I say with a gulp. “Let’s get in position.”

Suki and I assume the runner’s stance at the starting line, my muscles tensing in anticipation. When the whistle blows, I hang back a split second to let her go first, and then I follow. Running on ice is harder than it looks, and when the ground below me rattles from the first icequake, I fall smack on my butt. Hoisting myself back up, I spot Suki making a valiant effort, her hands gripping her shins to keep from falling in the quake. I resist the urge to cheer her on and I keep running until the water plume hits. My feet slide out from under me, and I tumble back down onto the ice.

“Come on, ladies!” Beckett shouts from the sidelines. “Way to represent America, Naomi.”

I grit my teeth. That obnoxious sonofa—

A sickening crash sounds, echoing through the chamber like shattered glass. My heart nearly stops at the sight of Suki crumpled at the side of the ice block, having failed to clear the hurdle. I scramble upright and run at full speed for the first time today, until I reach her. Her face is contorted in pain.

“Are you okay? I’m so sorry, I should never have let you—”

Lieutenant Barnes swoops down, interrupting my babbling. “Let’s take a look at that ankle,” he says as Suki manages to sit up.

“I’m okay,” she wheezes. “It’s just a light sprain. I’m fine, really.”

I close my eyes briefly. Is she seriously going to refuse help again? I feel a gentle pressure on my shoulder, and I turn around. It’s Leo, his blue eyes full of concern. The rest of our teammates crowd around Lieutenant Barnes and Suki, but Leo is here for me. I step off to the side so we can talk alone.

“I don’t know what to do,” I tell him under my breath. “I told her I’d help her, but . . .”

“But something is clearly wrong.” He finishes my sentence. “And not because she missed the jump. That could happen to anyone. It’s the way she . . . is today.”

I know just what he means. Our poised, laser-focused teammate is like a different person ever since last night—since the RRB. I turn to look back at Suki, who is hobbling to her feet with the help of Lieutenant Barnes.

“She’s done,” someone says behind me, and I whip around to find Beckett, watching the scene with a patronizing look on his face. “Her head’s clearly not in the game.”

“Will you just shut up?” Leo snaps at him, and I feel a rush of gratitude.

Beckett raises his eyebrows at Leo. “I would have thought you would be glad for a little less competition.”

“Then you weren’t paying attention, because I just beat your time out there,” Leo shoots back. “If anyone needs lighter competition, it’s not me.”

“You only ‘beat’ me by two seconds,” Beckett scoffs. “I’d call it more of a coin toss. Besides, you’ve already shown all you’ve got. I’m just getting warmed up.”

“Right. That’s what all second-place finishers say.”

As much as I love watching Leo take the jerk down, I don’t want to leave Suki alone with the others for much longer. I grab his arm. “Let’s go find out how she’s doing.”

We turn our backs on Beckett and return to Suki, who forces a smile when she sees us.

“Sorry about all that. I was just—just telling Lieutenant Barnes that my ankle really doesn’t hurt badly enough to bother with the medic. I’ll try to