Intermix Nation

Nazirah shakes her head, even though herbody is screaming. “I think I’m more upset than anything else,” shesays. “I don’t want to see anyone.”

He nods like he is expecting it. They passthrough the empty courtyard. Nazirah struggles to climb the stairs.He waits patiently at each step. They finally reach the corridorwhere both of their rooms are located. It’s black outside. The onlylight comes from the hanging lanterns that line the walls. Theystop in front of Nazirah’s door.

“How did you know?” she asks.

Adamek shakes his head. “Once he said hisname, I knew. Before the party ended, I went to find Olag. When Icame back, you were already gone.” He sighs. “I should have neverlet you out of my sight.”

“We were just going for a walk,” shemurmurs. Adamek is silent. “Thank you,” she says in a rush. “I wassuch an idiot for leaving with him. I should have known better; Idon’t know what I was thinking.” She stares at her dirty hands. “Iwasn’t thinking. You saved me.”

“Not fast enough.”

“You were.”

He reaches out to touch her forehead, thinksbetter of it. “What happened there?”

“I head butted him,” she says, oddlyproud.

He smirks. “Figures.”

Nazirah clears her throat. “Before Ramsesattacked me,” she says shakily, “he said he was honoring hisfather’s last wish. Do you know what he meant by that?”

“The Deathlanders are savage people,” Adameksays, shrugging. “Khanto’s last wish was probably to kill usall.”

“Savage people?” she asks, a

“Nation, I’m in no mood to argue with you,”he says. “You should know by now that I don’t care about race likethat anymore. I haven’t since … a while. The Deathlanders live aharsh life. And yes, they can be savage for it. That’s all.”

“Fine,” she says simply.

“You should get some sleep,” he says. “Makesure you lock your door.” He stands there, waiting for Nazirah towalk inside. Her hand is on the doorknob, but she finds herselfunable to turn it. Nazirah faces Adamek. There is caution, warinessin his eyes.

“I really don’t want to be alone right now,”she says quietly. Nazirah waits for his rejection, waits for him totell her no. She waits for a long time.

“Okay.”

Adamek turns abruptly, walking down thecorridor towards his own room. Nazirah trails behind him,surprised. He pushes his door open, gesturing for her to enter. Shedoes before she can regret it. He follows her inside, locking thedoor.

Adamek’s room is a mirror image of her own.Nazirah, whose belongings are usually strewn into careless heaps onthe floor, is not surprised to learn that he is much tidier. Thereare no photos, no childhood mementos. There is no mess, only a fewbooks. It is spotless, almost clinical. Save for several emptyliquor bottles, resting precariously on top of the silver briefcasein the corner.

Adamek walks over to his dresser, retrievinga small bag from one of the drawers. He rifles through it, lazilygrabbing an open bottle of vodka. Nazirah watches him pop a whitepill and take a swig. He comes over to her, dropping another pillinto her hand. “It’s not tequilux,” he says, extending the bottle.“But it’s all I have, unless you want to drink from thefaucet.”

Nazirah stares suspiciously at the pill inher outstretched hand, cautiously grabbing the bottle. “I’m notinterested in going on some acid trip with you,” she says.

Adamek snorts. “Do you even know anythingabout drugs, Nation? You don’t drop acid on a pill like this.”

“What is it?”

He rolls his eyes. “It’s just MEDIcine!Don’t take it if you don’t want to, but it will help with the painand swelling. Not the bruising though … or the hangover.”

“Great,” she says, popping the pill into hermouth. She grimaces, tipping the bottle back as well. Familiar, icyrelief immediately spreads through her sore muscles. She touchesher face, slightly dazed. The bump on her forehead is gone. Adameklaughs before taking back the bottle. He walks into his bathroom,leaving the door open.

Nazirah stands there awkwardly. Hercuriosity eventually wins out and she leans over, trying to seewhat he is doing. She jumps a little when Adamek appears at thedoor, barefoot and smirking. “You can come in, you know,” he says.“I promise to be a good boy.”

Nazirah sheepishly follows Adamek inside,automatically shutting the door behind her. He raises an eyebrow,but doesn’t comment. Metal lanterns bathe the ivory walls in softcandlelight. Adamek sits on the flat edge of the tub, inspectinghis hand casually. His knuckles are bruised, but nothing appearsbroken. Nazirah quietly sits beside him, pulling a knee to herchest. Adamek takes another swig of vodka before pouring some overhis bloody hand.

“What are you doing?” she asks, confused.

“Don’t have any rubbing alcohol,” he says,shrugging. “This is the next best sanitizer.”

“How resourceful.”

“Would you expect anything less?”

Adamek winces slightly, letting the now-redvodka drip from his hand into the tub. Nazirah is reminded of thelast time she saw a bathtub filled with blood. From the forlornlook on Adamek’s face, she knows he is thinking the same thing. Shegrabs the bottle from him, taking a big gulp.

“This is weird.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Right.”

“Right,” he replies, chuckling. Satisfiedwith his hand, Adamek inspects the stab wound through his shirt.The blood has dried, causing the material to stick. Nazirah takesanother swig, trying not to seem squeamish. “Never would havepegged you for much of a drinker, Nation.”

“Well, you don’t know me all that well,” shesnaps.

“I’m begi

Adamek grabs a nearby hand towel. He leansinto Nazirah, reaching behind her to turn on the hot water. Steamfills the room as Adamek wets the cloth. He dabs the wound throughhis shirt, struggling to get a good angle.

“Can I help you?” she asks softly.

Adamek stops and looks at her strangely. Hesays, “That remains to be seen.”

Wordlessly, Nazirah sets the bottle on thefloor. She takes the towel from him, folds it, placing it on herlap. Leaning over, Nazirah rinses her hands under the ru

“My shoes,” she says suddenly.

“Your shoes?”

“I forgot them downstairs.”

Adamek takes the small towel from her. Hefolds it into a square and places it behind him. “You really do sayexactly what you’re thinking, don’t you?”

“Not all the time.”

Adamek slowly unbuttons the rest of hisshirt. Using his good arm, he slips it off his shoulders. He tossesthe shirt behind him. “So what are you thinking about right now?”he asks, smirking.

Nazirah’s face heats up, knowing he’sintentionally dragging it out. “My shoes,” she repeats.

“I stand corrected,” he says. Adamek grabsthe bottle off the floor, takes a huge swig. He then pours somemore vodka over his arm. Nazirah feels lightheaded from thealcohol, the blood, and his shirtless presence. He delves into hisbag, pulling out a needle and some thread. Revolted yet fascinated,Nazirah watches Adamek thread the needle and skillfully beginstitching up his arm. Niko said he did this after getting shot, buthearing about it is one thing. Actually witnessing it happen is anentirely different beast. Queasy, Nazirah reaches between them. Shesnatches the bottle and takes another sip.

“Take it easy,” Adamek says, wincingslightly as he finishes suturing his arm. He breaks the thread withhis teeth, setting the needle aside. “I can’t have you passing outon my bathroom floor.”