Intermix Nation (42 page)

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Authors: M.P. Attardo

Tags: #romance, #young adult, #dystopia, #future, #rebellion, #future adventure, #new adult, #insurgent, #dystopia fiction

BOOK: Intermix Nation
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Nazirah dangles her legs over the side of
the bed, trying not to wake him. She picks her bra off a wayward
pillow and hooks it on, followed by the amnesty pendant. She scans
the floor for her panties, only to remember they now reside in
Adamek’s pocket. Blushing furiously, Nazirah pulls on her jeans and
shirt.

And still the regret stays away.

She rises, wincing as the mattress creaks
and moans. A hand catches her wrist, stopping her, pulling her
back. She turns around. Adamek is propped up on his elbow, watching
her. His hair is mussed, but his eyes are sharp. She should have
known he could never sleep through her clumsy, morning-after
fumbling.

Nazirah coughs awkwardly, unsure of what to
say. Thanks for the sex? Sorry I tried to kill you? Off to war we
go? She sticks with what she knows.

“Hey.”

Hey?

Nazirah casts her eyes upwards in
exasperation. She can practically feel his smirk. “Hey,” he
replies.

“I was just going to, um, shower before the
meeting.”

Adamek weaves his fingers through hers,
dragging her body over his. “You can shower here,” he says.

“You’re naked,” she mumbles.

“I am?”

“Shut up.” She laughs, stretches, rubbing
her feet into his calves. He holds her waist, his large hand
spanning her back. “My clothes are in my room.”

“You can wear mine.”

“Aldrik would just love that,” she says,
rolling her eyes. Nazirah notices her bite mark on his left
shoulder, above the bandage, still tender. “Is that from me?” she
asks, embarrassed.

“It truly is a lucky arm now,” he whispers.
“Stay with me.”

“You’re making it so hard,” she sighs.

He grins, pulling her hand under the sheets,
way below his navel. Nazirah flushes scarlet. “That’s kind of the
point,” he says.

“I have to go.”

She kisses his forehead chastely, his cheek,
his other cheek, the corner of his mouth. He pulls her chin, not so
chaste anymore, meeting her full on the lips. Kissing Adamek in the
light of day, when Nazirah can’t blame it on the night, is perfect.
It’s decadent and indulgent. Nazirah smiles into his lips and he
smiles back.

“See you later, Nation.”

Nazirah slowly untangles herself, finally
rising from the bed. She grabs her dagger from the floor and picks
up her shoes. She turns around before leaving, flashing Adamek an
adorable grin. “See you later, Morgen.”

She won’t.

But they don’t know that yet.

Outside his door, Nazirah laces her boots,
sticking the dagger in one of them. It’s still relatively dark
outside, the sun barely peeking over the horizon. She walks across
the hanging bridges towards her room, taking her time, smiling
against her better judgment. Nazirah doesn’t know what to make of
last night, of them, of it all. But, regardless of sore muscles,
she feels good. Like life is somehow a little brighter than it was
yesterday. She has changed.

Only God knows if it’s for the better.

Whistling idly, Nazirah enters her room. She
stops, song dying abruptly on her lips. Ramses sits on her bed,
entirely disfigured but entirely too well. “Don’t stop on my
account, Nazirah,” he jeers, holding an assault rifle in his
bandaged hands. “You know how I love music.”

The door is kicked shut. Nazirah whirls
around as the butt of a pistol cracks down on her skull. She
collapses to the ground. The last thing she sees before losing
consciousness is Mather Grum standing over her smugly.

“Say hello to your fucking enemy.”

#

Nazirah slowly regains consciousness,
holding on desperately to blissful oblivion. Like none of it’s
really happening. Like she’s still safe in a green-eyed embrace.
Her body has other plans. It snatches ephemeral feelings from the
atmosphere, making them real.

First pain.

Then panic.

Nazirah awakens fully to find she’s slumped
against a vibrating wall. Holding a hand to her blood-caked,
throbbing head, Nazirah looks around groggily, fighting to stay
calm. She’s moving, trapped inside a freight train compartment,
surrounded by piles of lumber. Nazirah cannot see outside, but she
feels wheels grinding beneath her and the distinct rumble of the
train lurching forward. One of her hands is handcuffed to a metal
pole which runs vertically floor to ceiling. Nazirah bangs on the
pole, contorting her hand, struggling to free herself. She grabs
the dagger from her boot, grateful neither Ramses nor Grum noticed
it, trying in vain to pick the lock.

“Help!” she screams, rattling her handcuffs.
“Somebody!”

Her voice sounds flat, strangled, absorbed
into the wood.

“It’s useless,” a voice says to her left.
Nazirah turns her head, seeing Lumi and Taj bound by twine around a
wooden pillar several feet away. Lumi has a black eye and a split
lip. Taj’s face is swollen, one of his arms perversely bent.

“What’s happening?” Nazirah cries.

“We don’t know,” Taj gasps. “We were walking
back from the bonfire last night when Grum attacked us, with
another guy. We couldn’t fight them off! We’ve been trapped here
all night.” He struggles to stave off the pain of his broken arm.
“They dragged you in a few hours ago, and then the train started
moving.”

“That other guy is Ramses,” Nazirah says,
trying to formulate some sort of escape plan. “He’s the one who
tried to kill me.”

“Apparently he’s not done trying.”

Nazirah ignores Lumi. Even in the direst
situation, she could still be gratingly annoying.

“He really hates you, Nazirah,” Taj wheezes.
“You should have heard him before.”

“I can imagine,” she says, banging her
handcuffs again.

“He wants to bring you down,” Lumi
continues, “and Adamek too. Ramses is helping the Medis at the
expense of his entire territory! He’s completely deranged, doped up
on every kind of MEDIcine out there. I don’t know how he can even
stand with half of his face caved in like that!”

Nazirah shudders, just thinking about it.
“Grum is an informer?” she asks. She doesn’t want to believe it,
but the pounding in her head reminds her it’s true.

“He’s been a narc all along,” Taj says,
coughing. He kicks the ground angrily. “All our work with the
loggers, all the good we thought we were doing … for nothing! The
Medis knew from the start! They were just biding their time!”

“Biding their time for what?”

“For you, you stupid idiot!” screams Lumi,
struggling against the ropes. Ravines of splinters and scratches
line her arms while tears streak her blotchy face, the evidence of
countless hours of failed escape attempts.

“Me?” she asks. “But why go through all this
trouble? The campaign is almost over! The Medis are already
attacking us!”

“You still don’t get it, do you?” asks Taj.
“Irri, you’re the face of the rebellion, whether you accept it or
not. People rally around you! Intermix and native, you give them a
reason to fight, a reason to hope.”

“But I haven’t done anything!”

“You’ve done enough to warrant your public
execution tomorrow,” Taj says.

“Just think of how the rebels will honor
your memory,” Lumi adds dryly.

“What is your problem, Lumi?” Nazirah yells.
“I didn’t exactly plan for this to happen!”

“Of course you didn’t!” Lumi shouts, equally
angry. “But they kidnapped us last night to get information about
you! Grum drugged Aldrik at the pub to get to you! They waited in
your room, all night! And didn’t you keep them waiting.”

“Lumi, stop.”

“I won’t stop, Taj! How long have you been
fucking Adamek, Nazirah?”

“Shut up right now,” Nazirah hisses.

“I won’t shut up!” Lumi yells, panicking.
“We knew something was going on with you two yesterday, even though
you lied through your teeth! But I was so right about you! You’re a
complete hypocrite, judging me when you do the exact same thing! At
least I was honest!” Her blue eyes are terrified. “You realize
we’re going to die, Nazirah! Taj and I are going to die! And it’s
all because of you!”

“We’re getting out of here, Lumi!” Nazirah
cries. “I promise.”

“Fuck your promises!”

“Lumi, enough!” snaps Taj, pale and
exhausted.

But Nazirah fears Lumi is completely right.
They are going to die. And it is her fault. “Where is this train
headed?” she asks suddenly.

“Where do you think?” Lumi replies
bitterly.

Nazirah sticks the dagger into her
waistband, stumbling to her knees even though her body tells her to
quit. She drags the handcuffs up the metal pole so she can stand,
clutching it for support. The vibrating wall, Nazirah now
recognizes to be a sliding freight door. She grasps the handle,
fingers slipping, and pulls hard. The door slides only marginally.
Using all her strength, Nazirah kicks the door open further. The
wind whistles through the compartment, whipping her hair as she
observes the foreign landscape outside … flashing lights, acrid
stench, hanging smog, looming skytowers in the distance.

“Mediah,” Nazirah whispers, eyes wide. She
turns to them, trying to be heard over the roaring wind. “These
freight trains carry resources into the capital!” she shouts. “They
need to run in the opposite direction as well, right?”

“Your point?”

“We can hop on a train going south!” Nazirah
replies. “Warn everyone about Grum! Who knows what information he
gave Gabirel? The Medis must be planning a major attack on
headquarters! Ivan’s forces are just a diversion!”

“Oh sure!” yells Lumi. “Just hop on a train!
Never mind the Medi guards, or that we don’t know where these
trains are, or that we are all tied up!”

“Can you think of a better idea?” Nazirah
snaps. “I’m all ears!”

The train enters a tunnel, traveling beneath
the bedrock of the acid moat surrounding the capital. Nazirah hears
loud footsteps in the next compartment. A second later, Ramses
slides the connecting door open. He walks inside, tapping his
assault rifle casually against his leg.

Now that she isn’t so shocked to see him,
Nazirah fully takes in Ramses’ mangled appearance. He is somehow
standing, even with an exaggerated limp and hunched back. Both of
his arms are heavily bandaged. But it is his face that is truly
grisly. His cheekbones are still smashed, nose shattered and
collapsed. He is nearly unrecognizable. But Nazirah would recognize
him instantly. It is those sadistic, inhumane eyes. The eyes of the
father, reincarnated in the son.

“Trying to escape, Nazirah?” he wheezes,
standing before her. If only he would come a little closer, within
range of her dagger. “I hope my appearance didn’t startle you too
badly. I’m afraid we are both looking worse for wear.” He sneers.
“The Medis ensured my survival. But they found it amusing to leave
my face like this … a little reminder of who I am and whom I
serve.”

“How could you do this?” she asks. “Help
Gabirel? Betray your people? For what?”

“For honor!” he spits. “For my father! To
once and for all wipe the patronizing smirk off Adamek Morgen’s
face! He has disgraced my bloodline for long enough.”

“You are the disgrace!” Nazirah screams.
“Your father would be ashamed of you! There is nothing honorable
about you!” She laughs. “You’re not half the man he is!”

“My father allowed himself to be killed by a
Medi, as did his father before him,” Ramses growls, taking a step
closer. “He may have disfigured me, but I will kill that Medi and
everything he holds dear. And you dare say I am not half the man of
my father?”

“I wasn’t talking about the Khan.”

Ramses aims the rifle at Nazirah’s head.
“Take it back,” he snarls.

“Pull the trigger,” she says boldly, calling
his bluff. “I dare you!” The train begins to slow, groaning on its
brakes. Ramses gets an unsettling, malicious look. Nazirah realizes
a second too late what he plans to do. “No!” she screams. Ramses
pivots, taking a precise shot. The bullet slices the air, colliding
with hair, scalp, bone, and finally organ. Taj slumps forward, his
skull shrapnel, brain pulp.

“Taj!” Lumi gags as brains and blood spurt
across her face … remnants of the voice of reason, of the kind boy
who loved to kick a ball around.

“I warned you.” Ramses faces Lumi. “Sorry,
love,” he says, “but there’s really no use for you, either.”

Lumi’s eyes bulge as Ramses aims the rifle
once more. Nazirah’s instincts kick in. She grabs the metal pole
with both hands, vaulting herself upwards and wrapping her legs
around his neck, effectively pulling and strangling him. He takes
several shots but misses, shattering the wooden pillar Lumi is
bound to, bullets ricocheting off the compartment walls. Lumi
shrieks, frantically pulling off the twine. Ramses wrests himself
free of Nazirah’s grip, points the rifle at Lumi. She cowers before
him, frozen.

He is close enough now.

Nazirah doesn’t think twice as she reaches
for the dagger. She has failed her parents, Aneira, now Taj.
Nazirah will not fail again. She lunges forward, screaming,
slitting his throat in one satisfying, electrifying motion. His
eyes roll backwards, whites showing. Blood spurts in pulses from
his neck. Ramses collapses onto the floor, rifle clattering out the
open door and onto the tracks below. He convulses for a moment,
gurgling. And then he is quiet.

Nazirah stares dumbly at him, at her own
bloody hand, back at him again. Lumi is hugging her, thanking her.
But Nazirah doesn’t feel her. The train pulls into an underground
station, almost completely stopped. “Come on, Nazirah!” Lumi cries
urgently. “Let’s get out of here!”

“I can’t,” she says sadly, holding up her
one hand. “I’m still handcuffed.”

Lumi grabs the metal pole, trying to derail
it. Her long blonde hair is matted, caked red. There is desperation
in her eyes. She drops to the ground, frantically searching Ramses’
body. “I can’t find the key!” she yells hysterically. “There’s no
key! Nazirah, there’s no key!”

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