The Final Six (The Final Six #1) - Alexandra Monir Page 0,67

reliving your past on the canvas.”

“That’s a beautiful idea,” Lark says. She turns to Beckett. “What about you?”

“What about me?” he asks, gruffly.

“You’d go back to DC, right? Is there anything you miss about home, or would look forward to seeing again?”

A funny look crosses his face, and then he nods. “Yeah, the White House doesn’t suck. My uncle lets us live there, since it has all the best flood barriers and weather protections. But I don’t think I’m going back.” He lifts his chin. “I was always meant for something bigger.”

“I guess in three days we’ll know,” Asher says, taking a deep breath.

I glance back at Leo, wondering how much time we have left. How much longer will his friendship be in my life?

In three days, we’ll know.

Fifteen

LEO

I WAKE TO THE SOUND OF A SICKENING CRACK—THE SOUND A tree might make if it snapped its neck. I struggle to sit up, but my bed is shaking, the ground rumbling and sliding beneath it.

“Earthquake!” Asher shouts. “Cover your head!”

I duck under the sheets, shoving my pillow over my head as the walls convulse around us. I brace myself for the shards of shattered glass to come flying, for the furniture to smash to the ground, just like the day the waves crashed through the windows of Rome. But then I remember—there are no windows in this room. Our furniture is bolted to the floor. NASA prepared for everything.

Just as I’m convincing myself that it’s merely an earthquake, that it won’t be like Rome all over again, a clap of thunder breaks through the noise—followed by a growing roar. It sounds like a freight train is speeding straight toward us. That can only mean one thing.

“Tsunami,” I try to yell, but my voice is garbled and barely makes a sound. “Tsunami!”

The water lashes at the walls, the floor rocking from the earthquake’s aftershocks. I hear Asher begin to pray in Hebrew, his voice rising in panic, and I squeeze my eyes shut, seeing my mother’s face. Her skin was blue when I finally found her in the water, a sight that caused me to throw up for days. But now I am joining her. I thought I had more time left—time to tell Naomi how I feel, to be one of the first humans to set foot on Europa—but I can feel the hand of Earth, reaching down to take me.

And then the door flies open. I pull the covers from my eyes and see the outline of a body swaying in the doorway.

“Get dressed as fast as you can and meet me at the foot of the stairs!” Lark’s voice shouts. “Don’t forget shoes and flashlights.”

She disappears to the next door, and I struggle out of bed, feeling my way to the dresser in the darkness. We throw on clothes, and then bolt out of the room and into the dorm corridor. The floor beneath us seems to have solidified, but the wind howls like a threat, warning us that the danger hasn’t passed. The high-pitched wail of an alarm follows us through the halls as we reach the crowd of disheveled finalists and staff at the foot of the stairs. Dr. Takumi and General Sokolov stand before us, their expressions strained as they scan our faces in the glow of flashlights, taking a head count. And then Dr. Takumi leads us forward to the wall opposite the stairs.

“What’s happening?” someone cries in my ear, and I shake my head, watching as Takumi presses a button on his watch—and a camouflaged door swings open within the wall.

It looks like some kind of emergency tunnel, with sandbags lining the space and a water dispenser and row of canned food in the corner. As Dr. Takumi herds us all inside, a hand finds my arm in the dark. I know without looking that it’s Naomi.

We make our way deeper into the passage, and I hear the general’s voice over my shoulder.

“Dot and Cyb! What about—”

“They’re fine,” Dr. Takumi interrupts. “Safe in their charging pods.”

“And the power?”

“It should be back on once we’re out of here,” he answers.

That’s when Naomi’s hand slips out of my grasp. I turn and whisper her name, but she’s already gone, her sweater flapping behind her as she disappears out of the tunnel. And the tunnel door starts sliding to a close.

My heart is in my throat, my palms sweating as I make the split-second decision. Do I stay in the safety of the emergency tunnel or follow