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INTERMIX NATION
By M.P. Attardo
Intermix Nation
Mary Attardo
Copyright © 2013 by Mary Attardo
Smashwords Edition
http://maryattardo.blogspot.com/
This book is a work of fiction. The names,characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’simagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to beconstrued as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead,actual events, locales, or organizations is entirelycoincidental.
All rights are reserved. No part of this bookmay be used or reproduced in any ma
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed foryour personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold orgiven away to other people. If you would like to share this bookwith another person, please purchase an additional copy for eachrecipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, orit was not purchased for your use only, then please return toSmashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respectingthe hard work of this author.
Table ofContents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
ChapterThirteen
ChapterFourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
ChapterSeventeen
ChapterEighteen
ChapterNineteen
Chapter Twenty
ChapterTwenty-One
ChapterTwenty-Two
ChapterTwenty-Three
ChapterTwenty-Four
ChapterTwenty-Five
ChapterTwenty-Six
ChapterTwenty-Seven
ChapterTwenty-Eight
ChapterTwenty-Nine
For my mother,
my rock, my Riva.
ChapterOne
Nazirah Nation is dead.
She stretches her mind, reaching for herearliest memories and coming up empty. She remembers playing on thesandy coast near her home in southern Eridies, the whitewashedstone of her family’s cottage a comforting constant on the horizon.She spent hours by the sea, a child of the sun. She roamed thesand, collecting starfish and seashells that her mother fanaticallyglued onto picture frames and proudly displayed throughout theirsmall home. Mason jars filled with smooth black pebbles lined theirfireplace mantle, coffee table, and bookshelves.
Outside, the water lapped at Nazirah’s feet.She laughed and built sandcastles that kissed the sky. Lying on thedunes with Cato, she swore that time could stop like this, and shewould feel complete.
It was a simple childhood, full of the naïveoptimism of youth. It was impoverished. But it was happy.
There was no hate there.
Nazirah remembers her thirteenth birthdayparticularly fondly. Riva made her favorite cake, vanilla with keylime filling, as a treat. Kasimir, fresh from an inspired trip tothe black market, brought Nazirah home a bicycle. They could notafford such luxuries, Nazirah knew, but her parents said it was aspecial occasion.
Nazirah remembers her joy the first time shesaw the bicycle, rusty and bent. She remembers Niko’s envious andsullen glares over di
There was no hate there, either.
Even in the bad times …
(when Niko tripped her and Nazirah broke herarm and wore a cast for an entire summer … when her father got sosick he couldn’t work and their food stores ran dangerously low …when her parents told her she wasn’t pulling her weight, wasn’tliving up to her potential … when she was teased mercilessly inschool, called intermix, and ran home in tears for months)
… even then, Nazirah did not understandhate.
That changed four months ago.
Nazirah came home late to a dark house. Sheand Cato had been hanging out with some neighborhood friends,sneaking swigs of homebrewed tequilux on the rundown boardwalk.
She remembers the crooked smile on her face.She fumbled for her keys, dropping them and silently cursing. Shetiptoed through the front door, a low laugh slowly dying on herlips. The scents of jasmine and verbena from the front garden werequickly replaced by the smell of something else. Something foreignand nauseating.
Something wrong.
Buzz fading, eyes adjusting to the lowlight, Nazirah squinted into the darkness.
She only vaguely remembers collapsing to herknees. Only vaguely remembers her strangled cry. Only vaguelyremembers the acidic taste of vomit in her throat.
Nazirah tries to recall her parents, once sofull of life and light. But now, everything is muted. Now,everything is numb. Now, when she tries to recall their faces, allshe can think of is this … this moment of pure hatred.
Their bodies: awkwardly positioned on theliving room floor, bent at u
Wet tears still clung to two sets of frozeneyelashes.
And the blood. There was so much blood …splattered on the walls, on the furniture, spilling from matchingchest wounds.
Her parents had once been so full of lifeand light.
Now, they would never laugh again.
#
“If looks could kill, Nazi Nation.” Catoslides into the empty seat on the bench. He playfully nudges hershoulder, setting down his overflowing tray with a thud.
Nazirah stabs a shriveled carrot with herfork, startled out of her lunchtime reverie. Not a reverie: atwenty-four hour nightmare, repeating over and over in her mind formonths, with no end in sight, would be more apropos. Nazirah shiftsher body away from Cato, turning only to glare before resuming themassacre of her plate.
She knows that Cato Caal, her supposed bestfriend, is only joking. But she really hates that nickname. She wasteased mercilessly with it at school. In addition to her intermixstatus, which already made her a pariah, her parents’ politicalleanings worsened matters. But though they had been vocal aboutintermix rights, they were hardly Nazis.
At least, Nazirah doesn’t think so. Shecan’t exactly walk up to a Nazi and ask. Nazis have been extinctfor centuries, bygone legends from the Old Country – NorthAmerica.
Her thoughts turn to her parents once moreand a fresh pang of grief surfaces.
It is mid-August, four months since shefound her parents murdered. Four months since she became a homelessorphan. Four months since her world so spectacularly collapsedaround her.
“Hey, Irri, you okay?” asks Cato, gentlytouching her arm. “I wasn’t thinking about what I was saying. I wasjust trying to get a laugh out of you.” The concern on his face isclear.
Nazirah shakes her head a little, trying tovanquish the ghosts.
Everyone said it wasn’t safe for her tostay, that it was too risky, that she was tempting fate. So shereluctantly agreed to abandon her childhood home, leave all of hermemories to rot, and come live at the rebel compound.
Not that she was eager to stay homeanyway.
Nazirah pauses, collecting herself. Shelooks up at Cato, amber eyes a bit too bright, fake smile inplace.
Cato. Her best friend, who, against all herprotests that she secretly hoped he wouldn’t listen to (and hehadn’t) had left behind his comfortable life in Eridies and comewith her. He had no reason to leave. His family was still aliveand, as a pure Eridian, he wasn’t in danger. But he was kind andfoolish, and wouldn’t take no for an answer.