Free Intermix Nation by M.P. Attardo

hands balled into fists. Adamek’s stance is
passive, his entire body relaxed. He watches Nazirah clumsily get
down and stumble over to them.
    “Look at me, you sick fuck!” Cato
shouts.
    Adamek does, eyes narrowing dangerously.
Cato is too close to him. Nazirah has known Cato her entire life
and is well acquainted with his hot temper. Nazirah looks around
for help, but no one else is outside anymore. “Cato, stop!” she
cries.
    “Stay the fuck away from her!”
    Adamek’s raises an eyebrow. “Or what?” he
asks. “What are you going to do about it?”
    Cato grabs the front of Adamek’s shirt, but
Adamek doesn’t flinch. “Just because you have amnesty doesn’t mean
I won’t beat the shit out of you!”
    “Cato!” Nazirah grabs his arm. Her voice
triggers something. Cato slowly releases Adamek’s shirt and steps
away. Nazirah looks between Cato, who is panting heavily and
flushed red, and Adamek, who has not moved a muscle.
    In Niko’s office she called him a
murderer.
    He told her not to forget it.
    And Nazirah gets it now, really gets it.
    It’s terrifying.
    “Watch your back, Morgen,” Cato threatens,
cracking his knuckles.
    Nazirah reaches for his hand. Cato looks at
her then, looks at their joint hands. Nazirah can see his anger
diminishing, if only slightly. She takes the opportunity and pulls
him away, dragging him towards the main building. Halfway there,
Cato strides ahead of her, slamming angrily through the doors.
Nazirah follows him inside, taking one final look back at Adamek.
He’s still in the same position against the fence, has not moved at
all. But it’s his expression that completely unsettles Nazirah.
Adamek stares almost longingly at the swings, still swaying back
and forth in the breeze.
    Nazirah doesn’t dwell on that as she walks
through the door. Moving quickly, she catches up to Cato by the
mess hall entrance. He waits for her there, arms crossed.
    “What was that?” she asks.
    “What was that?” Cato snaps. “You’re
kidding.”
    “No, I’m not kidding!” Nazirah says hotly.
“You completely provoked him! He was just standing there!”
    Cato looks at her in disbelief. “Are you
seriously that naïve?”
    “Don’t call me that.”
    “I’m sorry. But he wasn’t just standing
there, Irri. He was watching you … only you. Just steer clear of
him, okay? I feel like he’s singling you out.”
    Nazirah hates the way he babies her, speaks
in delicacies, keeps her from the whole truth. “It’s not like we
exactly hang.”
    “You know what I mean.”
    “Fine,” she says, hoping to drop the
subject. She tries to reassure him with, “Don’t worry about me,
Cato. I can handle myself.”
    Cato sighs as they walk through the mess
hall doors. Nazirah knows he isn’t convinced. She doesn’t blame
him.
    She isn’t convinced either.

Chapter Six
    Nazirah falls to the floor hard, air crushed
from her lungs. She cannot breathe, cannot move. Someone hovers
over her threateningly. Her arms are scratched and bruised. Blood
drips into her right eye from a cut above her eyebrow, blurring her
vision. One side of her face swells. From the corner of her
unaffected eye, Nazirah sees Cato move to help her. Lumi puts a
firm hand to his chest, stopping him. Grimacing in pain, face
strained, Nazirah slowly rises to her feet.
    Combat training.
    It started two weeks ago and has been
torture ever since. On the first day, a rainy Monday afternoon, the
recruits shuffled lethargically into the old gymnasium with their
fighting instructor, Grum. Grum is an exceptionally cranky,
middle-aged intermix. He takes every chance he possibly can to beat
his students down, both physically and emotionally. Not much is
known about him except that he was a rum-runner in his adolescence.
Caught by Medi soldiers, he was brutally maimed for it. They left
him alive, horribly scarred, as a warning to other bootleggers. His
scars mar an already vile face, most notably with a thick keloid
that runs from lip