Radiation Point

One

"I think it is better. Right? It is better."

The girl next to me had long dark hair tied into a thick braid and a heavy accent. She sat crossed legged on the cot she shared with her friend.

With space and supplies running dangerously low in our refugee camp, it was common for people to share cots or even sleep on the hard concrete floor. Anything was better than being in the woods with the people who had reached radiation point and became contaminated. They had no idea what horrors a refugee camp could hold though. They didn't get chills every time the loud speaker crackled for an announcement, wondering, is it time? Time for them to slaughter us?

"Don't say that, habibi! Would you say death is better if I became contaminated?" the other girl asked. The girls lapsed into hurried Arabic as they argued about the very question that haunted me. Would death be better than contamination?

"V? I don't think I'm ready for this."

The sound of my sister's voice pulled my attention from the girls next to me. I had known Mia would try to back out of training in the woods. The idea terrified her, but her training was necessary.

If we weren't safe in our last camp, we wouldn't be safe in this one. It was a truth I knew well, but persuading Mia was something entirely different. Just one look at her pale face told me she was terrified. Biting her lip, she seemed to be fighting with the words to dissuade me from leaving.

"This isn't a good idea," she said, her blue eyes skewering me.

"Not now," I whispered, nodding towards the girls next to us. It was almost time to scale the fence surrounding our camp, but people were still awake.

"I found you some new clothes, " I said, handing her a dark bundle. I didn't add that they were for tonight. It was better not to mention our leaving--ever.

She warily unraveled the heap of clothes-black pants and top; a cotton spandex mix that allowed air flow and easy movement.

She pulled a face as she examined them.

"They smell," she said crinkling her nose.

"They're dark," I reminded her.

She nodded, her eyes as wide as saucers, and for a moment I thought she was going to cry. Mia had never adapted the way I had to the contaminated zone. She didn't scale fences, she didn't break rules, and she definately didn't kill contaminated. But those were things she needed to learn if she was going to survive.

"Nessa, I can't do this," she whispered, a single tear sliding down her cheek. "Please."

My heart dropped.

She hadn't used my name in months.

I'd told her when we came to this camp that we would go by code names; stay anonymous. Our first refugee camp had gotten too comfortable with us. They knew us before the bomb dropped; knew our weakness and strengths. It made us targets.

I grasped Mia by the shoulders and gave her a tight hug.

"You can and you will, Mia bia."

It felt weird saying her nickname after months of code names, but the girls next to us had fallen asleep and around the dorm, the sound of snores reverberated from other refugees.

Mia nodded and began to change into the outfit I gave her. All shyness of changing in front of each other had all but disappeared by now. Changing in rooms full of men and women alike would do that to a person.