Intermix Nation Read Free Page B

a weak link in the compound’s electrified fence,
discovered during her first week at headquarters. She comes here
when she feels overwhelmed, when her small room is too confining,
or when she just wants to escape reality for a while … or
forever.
    She slowly runs her hand over rough blades
of yellow grass. It’s still summer, although it’s warm in Eridies
regardless of the time of year. Nazirah wonders briefly what
seasons feel like, if the flowers in the front yard at home are
overrun with weeds. They were only beginning to bloom when she left
so abruptly in April. Riva would often pluck the flowers from their
small garden and braid them skillfully, weaving vines and blossoms
through Nazirah’s long chestnut locks. Nazirah could never quite
manage it by herself. Riva had an elegance Nazirah does not
possess. And now she isn’t around to teach Nazirah anything,
anymore.
    Nazirah picks one of the longest blades and
begins knotting the stem, occupying her hands. She thinks about
Rafu, not far from here. A few days’ walk, maybe. Only an hour’s
drive, if Nazirah had access to a car, which she doesn’t. Barely
anyone in Rafu drives. Only the wealthiest people can afford
automobiles, and the roads are so cracked and dangerous that most
prefer bicycling or walking.
    The roads here in Krush are smooth and
paved, because they’re much closer to the capital. The lines of
communication are also better in northern Eridies. Nazirah has to
admit that Krush is a perfect location for the rebels to keep tabs
on Mediah and interact with other territories.
    Nazirah has never been to the capital
before, obviously. She has never even been outside Eridies. But she
has heard stories, has seen images in books and on the small
television in her home.
    Skytowers so tall they rise above the cloud
line. Lights so powerful they blind your eyes if you look for too
long. Fancy cars and heavy smog everywhere. A complex network of
bullet trains carrying resources from the four territories all day
and night.
    Nazirah never rode in a car until the night
her parents died. Nikolaus, with his deep Eridian connections, had
known about their parents’ murder almost as soon as Nazirah had. He
came for her in a car, not an hour after she discovered them.
    Nazirah remembers sitting on the porch, face
red and raw from crying. She remembers the neighbors looking at her
through their windows, pitying her, but unwilling to risk their
lives by offering her comfort or shelter. She didn’t know what to
do. She couldn’t go inside, couldn’t watch the paramedics bagging
the bodies. But she couldn’t just leave, either.
    There, on her front step, the chorus of
guilt that has plagued Nazirah for months began playing the first
chords of its death march. What if she stayed home that night and
hadn’t snuck out? What if she was there to defend her parents? Why
hadn’t she joined the rebellion sooner? Why hadn’t she kissed her
mother goodbye? When was the last time she told her father she
loved him? Why wasn’t she a better daughter?
    So she sat, completely numb, and waited for
absolution.
    She is still waiting.
    Niko arrived in a black sedan. He said
nothing, just hugged her for the first time in years. Nazirah could
tell he had cried, but when she saw him, his face was dry.
    And that was it. He ushered her into the
car, which made her even dizzier and more nauseous, and took her to
Krush … to headquarters. Nazirah made him pull over several times
so she could throw up on the side of the road.
    They returned a few days later for the
funeral. Since her parents were interracially married, they were
banned from having a traditional Eridian burial. So Riva and
Kasimir were cremated, and the two surviving Nations spread their
ashes into the ocean behind their home. Following an old Eridian
custom, Nazirah and Nikolaus lit paper lanterns on the beach and
watched them gently float into the night sky.
    Nazirah could not gather the strength to
enter their home, so