PATIENT EVIL - An R.J. Godlewski / Right Truth Blog Exclusive - Chapter Twenty-Nine
An R.J. Godlewski and Right Truth Blog Exclusive eBook
July 20xx,
Kerch, Ukraine
Haytham followed Muhammad down the culvert into the concrete drainage canal. His mind was easing with the descent of nightfall upon the terrain; darkness giving them a chance to both accelerate their movements and rest whenever the need arose. The young medical student knew that he was out of his element; knew it a long time ago, but regardless of whether he was the lowest soul on the totem pole he could not deny that the individual that he was following through the coursing cement embankments was Master Number One.
The more youthful Arab wanted to run. Every time they snuck past a family on an outing or children playing on an adjacent street, Haytham longed for his own home and relations – such as they were. He couldn’t shatter the reoccurring notion that those surrounding him – completely unaware to the journey of the two foreigners – weren’t much different than he was. He even heard a teenager being scolded by her mother for playing rock and roll music too loud. It made him smile until Muhammad had glanced back at him and reality hit home like a sledgehammer.
Haytham wanted to live for life, not just die for it like so many other Muslims had done or were expected to do. If Allah intended for them to sacrifice their lives, as his elder traveler kept mentioning, then he couldn’t help but believe that Allah had also predestined the Ukrainians to be what they were. It was a quandary that befuddled the young man: either the Ukrainians – and therefore everyone else – were absolutely the most despicable people on the planet for abandoning Allah’s will or that Muhammad was the biggest liar in existence. He knew which belief his masters subscribed to but Haytham just couldn’t accept that every Ukrainian out there enjoying himself was so despicable. One of the two groups was wrong. Seriously wrong.
As the world surrounding him grew darker, his senses began to pick up the smells and sound normally hidden within daylight. He could hear the slight trickling of what little water caressed their feet. The distant yelping of a dog that carried across the fields from location unknown. The subdued clatter of vehicles racing along the myriad of streets and which blended into the blanket of Crimean dusk. Haytham smiled; all things considered, he could have been at home – the darkness largely obscuring whether his climate was temperate or desert in nature.
The odors experienced were different, however. Ukraine had a distinctly bland aroma compared with the burdensome Middle East. There seemed to be one, terribly foul odor that originated from the direction that he was being led, as if the putrid smell was itself leading him into the unknown.
“We shall stop here for a slight rest.” Muhammad’s order came from somewhere within the deepening blackness.
“Yes, Master.” Haytham discovered that the source of the foul smell came from the same direction as did the words. “I can continue as you see fit.”
“You are a good soldier, young Haytham.” Muhammad’s voice sounded less harsh, yet sterner. “We are in the land of the infidels, lost from our own tribes. We must continue until we can reach safety. My followers have abandoned me; Mahmoud has abandoned me. They will pay…”
“Perhaps they will yet come to our rescue?” Haytham’s voice was even less opportunistic than he had feared. “Much had happened at the prison. We scattered. They scattered. We will find each other, yes?”
“Failure is evil.” growled Muhammad lightly. “It is against Allah’s will. Mahmoud should have expected my deliverance. He should have been waiting.”
Haytham felt an arm briefly descend upon his shoulder from the darkness. “Yet, it was you, my young friend, who did come to my aid. You are now Muhammad’s servant.”
“Yes, Master.” The young student experienced a terrible prickling sensation erupt over his body. “I exist to serve my Lord.”
“Good. And you shall. We shall destroy the infidels and by their own hand. As I have already told you, they cannot escape. They enrich the Chinese who have turned to our friends in Arabia to provide them with crude and the mujahedeen use the money to buy arms, train, and subvert the allies of the West. If they only knew what terrible fate awaits them they would be far more conscious of where they sent their own wealth!”
Haytham knelt down gingerly, washing his hands slightly within the flowing stream beneath his feet. It was about the fourteenth time that he heard the tale; that the Americans made China rich through products of inferior quality only to have the Chinese buy oil from Iran and Saudi Arabia which used the money received from Beijing to purchase weapons and train men to combat the Americans in turn. He made him sick – all this talk of death and battle.
“Allah has given me a way of destroying New York City.” Muhammad continued, still enshrouded within the dark. “A ship; an American ship that our friends are restoring will be delivered into the clutches of the Great Satan. It will be our ‘gift’ to them; a present to show our great ‘admiration’ of their fellowship with the Muslim nations. Only this modern Trojan horse will have a weapon of such unimaginable horror within its bowels that no American will deny that Islam is the greatest force in the universe!”
Haytham’s ill feeling pervaded his whole body. He wasn’t so naïve as to not suspect what his master had planned – the destruction of the entire city of New York. A conflagration of historical proportions. It made him shiver to his bones and cry.
“Young Haytham, are you there?” Muhammad’s voice sounded confused, almost searching.
“Oh, yes Master,” Haytham stood up quickly. “I was only washing my…”
The young student’s words were cut abruptly as he impacted against the larger individual. He could hear a deep groan followed by the sounds of a man stumbling against an unknown obstacle. Finally, the sound of as if a body falling into hole or a tunnel of some sort echoed along the concrete channel.
“Master, Muhammad?” Haytham’s voice eked out. “Are you okay?”
* * * *
At the Patient Evil Homepage the Synopsis, Prologue, Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six , Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven, and Chapter Twelve, Chapter Thirteen, Chapter Fourteen, Chapter Fifteen, Chapter Sixteen, Chapter Seventeen, Chapter Eighteen, Chapter Nineteen, Chaptaer Twenty, Chapter Twenty-One, Chapter Twenty-Two, Chapter Twenty Three, Chapter Twenty-Four, Chapter Twenty-Five, Chapter Twenty-Six, , Chapter Twenty-Seven, Chapter Twenty-Eight, Chapter Twenty-Nine,each chapter will be available in pdf after they are published here at Right Truth.
Synopsis at Right Truth Chapter Seven
Prologue and Chapter One at Right Truth, Chapter Two , Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Six, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine, Chapter Ten, Chapter Five,
Chapter Ten, Chapter 11, Chapter Twelve, Chapter Thirteen, Chapter Fourteen, Chapter Fifteen, Chapter Sixteen, Chapter Seventeen, Chapter Eighteen, Chapter Nineteen, Chapter Twenty, Chapter Twenty-One, Chapter Twenty-Two, Chapter Twenty-Three, Chapter Twenty-Four, Chapter Twenty-Five, Chapter Twenty-Six, Chapter Twenty-Seven, Chapter Twenty-Eight, Chapter Twenty-Nine,
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Outstanding! Haytham is not someone I would like to have around me! Great E-book
WB
Posted by: williebill | July 30, 2008 at 07:53 PM