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 fear
s 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!”
Lumi snaps her head up. There is distinct echoing nearby, footsteps drawing closer.
“Lumi,” Nazirah says, strangely calm. “You have to get out, now.”
“I won’t leave you!”
They’re running out of time. Lumi stands, glancing nervously at the door. “Lumi, go!” Nazirah cries, voice cracking. “We can’t defend ourselves with just one knife between us!” She hands Lumi the bloody dagger. “Find a train to Krush and warn everyone. I’ll be fine, I promise.”
“Fuck your promises!” Lumi sobs, embracing her tightly. Their faces mirror blood smears. The footsteps are right outside now.
“Leave!”
“Thank you,” Lumi whispers. “Don’t let them break you.”
“I won’t,” she says softly. They exchange one final glance before Lumi hops off the ledge, down and out of sight. Nazirah is quite certain they will never see each other again. Lumi is gone for mere seconds before the compartment door slides open, revealing Grum wielding a pistol.
The look of total shock on Grum’s face is almost comical. He stalks around the compartment, taking in the massacre, kicking over a pile of logs. “Fucking Deathlanders,” he scoffs, toeing Ramses’ body. “Never trust one to get the job done right.” Grum bends down, running two scarred fingers along Ramses’ neck. Raising his hand, he watches the blood drip to the floor in morbid fascination. He grins up at her and Nazirah resists the urge to vomit. “Is this your work, Nation? Never knew you had it in you.”
“I seem to surprise you a lot,” she says, staring forward, unable to look at what she’s done.
Grum pats her down roughly. He takes longer than necessary, making sure to cop a feel here and there. Pulling out a key from his pocket, Grum unlocks the cuff from the pole, quickly handcuffing both of Nazirah’s hands behind her back. “That was my fault,” he says, “for letting you catch me off guard.” He pushes her forward towards the door. “Not because you have any fighting ability, get that straight.”
“Ramses might disagree,” Nazirah says, sounding braver than she feels.
He grips her hard. “In any case,” he growls, “I won’t be making that mistake again.” Grum recounts the bodies. Nazirah stares sadly at Taj, slumped on the floor, before she gets shoved out of the compartment. “Where’s Grigori, Nation? Did she leave you here to rot so she could make it home to her boyfriend? I doubt she’ll get far.”
/>
Nazirah ignores him. “You were the one who leaked our trip to the slums?”
“Of course I did.” Grum chuckles behind her as they walk towards the front of the train. “Right before I left for Osen, I overheard a call between the Commander and Slome. It would have been rude to keep information like that all to myself.” He presses the pistol into Nazirah’s back. “I was very lucky,” Grum continues. “The Chancellor was getting a tad impatient before that. Your brother would never willingly tell me anything confidential. He doesn’t quite like me much … can’t imagine why.”
“Your plan backfired,” Nazirah hisses. “If anything, that fire made us stronger!”
“Even the best laid plans can go to shit,” he snaps. They’re in the first compartment now, near the train’s entrance. Nazirah hears muffled voices outside the door. “Like yesterday, for example. We waited weeks until we could safely get you, planned on kidnapping you after the bonfire. But we had to wait all night long.” He whispers in her ear. “It’s a pity the Chancellor forbade me from going after Morgen. I would have loved to join in on the fun last night.”
“Go to hell.”
Grum whirls Nazirah around so they face each other. His thick keloid bulges, knotted veins bursting in anger. “I’ve been there,” he growls, pointing at his scarred face. “I’m not anxious to return.”
He grabs Nazirah by the collar, kicking the door open and hauling her outside. She’s momentarily blinded by the bright lights, the cameras shuttering and flashing. The large crowd hisses and jeers, throwing stones. Nazirah holds a bloody hand up, shielding her face. Grum leads her off the train platform, sea of onlookers parting before them. A mother protects her young daughter. Someone screams. They stare at Nazirah like she is a caged animal, untamable, wild and dangerous. Everyone here knows her face, just like everywhere else in Renatus. But here, Nazirah is not the ally. She is not even the intermix.
She is the enemy.
Petite and filthy, completely terrified, Nazirah scares these Medis to the bone. She wants to scream at them! Can’t they see? They have all the power! And she has none! But as Grum drags her outside, into the smog and gasps and sobs, Nazirah isn’t so sure that’s true.