by Ryan Garner
At her initial job interview Salib had been sure to wear her traditional Muslim clothing of a dark colored jilbab and hijab; after seeing her dress and learning that she had come to the United States on a student visa from the Middle East the interview board practically hired her on the spot. After the oral board exam was over one of the interviewers had made the comment, “I wish our school system had more Muslim applicants than it did. It is so important that our children learn more about the peaceful religion of Islam and how to better accept it into our freedom loving culture.”
During her time as a bus driver Salib had been very open and vocal about her Muslim beliefs often being sure to tell the children why America needed to be more accepting of her religion. However, because of “Zionist American bigotry” not everyone had been so welcoming of her. There had been one occasion just a few months after she was hired that Salib had overheard a male school employee speaking to a female teacher. The female teacher had made the statement that Christians and Muslims worshiped, “the same God.” The male had been quick to correct her statement by informing her that Allah had been the Arab moon god in the past and had been picked virtually at random by Mohamed. He then stated that Allah was not the one true God.
Salib had immediately gone straight to the school's administration with this inflammatory information and advised them of the vicious and intolerant attack this man had made on her peaceful religion. Within hours the man had been suspended. He was fired a few days later. The New Hanover County School Board even issued a public apology to her in the paper after news of the incident had gotten out. Salib later heard that the male had been forced to move to that ridiculous and fanatical Christian State of Texas in order to find employment again.
However, this minor retribution did not fill the void that the American's National Governing Police had caused her when they murdered her boyfriend, Hazziq. After stereotyping him as an extremist terrorist instead of a dedicated Muslim believer who was fully committed to furthering Allah's will, the NGP had stormed his home. In the ensuing firefight Hazziq had been brutally murdered by one of the entry team's members. On that day the Americans had torn their dream of becoming shaheeds together away from them. Salib always used the proper Muslim term of shaheed rather than the Christian term of martyr. She would not belittle herself or her religion by calling it anything other than that.
The NGP had murdered Hazziq just days before their glorious mission was to be carried out. The intended plan had been for Hazziq to detonate his explosive vest at a public festival. Shortly after this, but still within the chaos of the fleeing crowd Salib would do the same; this would ensure that she would quickly join him in paradise. Once there both she and Hazziq would experience constant ecstasy in each other's presence, but the Americans had robbed her of that joy...at least temporarily. Soon she would be reunited with Hazziq and be honored among the great female heroines of Islam thanks to the new plan that Nasir Malik Zahir Kamil had graciously constructed for her just a few weeks ago after he had learned about her tragic circumstances.
Her loose jilbab and thin frame made concealing the explosive vest relatively easy. Even if the school's security personnel were to suspect something they were far too frightened of disciplinary action or a possible lawsuit that may be caused by “racially profiling” a Muslim woman to do any type of thorough investigation. Soon the infidel's children would be on board her bus and she would at last be able to carry out Allah's true will for her life. She cracked a contented smile thinking that if she were lucky maybe even some of the school's Jewish swine students would be riding on her bus today. Salib's smile grew larger as she saw the children begin to file out of the nearby buildings and walk towards the awaiting buses.
“And of the people is he or she who sells himself, seeking means to the approval of Allah...And Allah is kind to his servants.” Salib quoted the Qur’an as she watched the children quickly approaching her.
….
Abdul-Muhsi Fathi Najjar, an Arab male in his mid-twenties with a battle hardened look and a deathly, vacant stare in his eyes allowed the school bus to coast momentarily as he drove at a steady pace down South College Road headed for Myrtle Grove Middle School. The bus itself was old and worn out and the state had decided months before he purchased the vehicle that it was no longer suited for carrying children. However, that did not mean it could no longer be useful for “other” purposes.
To allow for maximum cargo space the majority of the passenger seats had been removed. Only a few rows in the front and very back had been left for better concealment should anyone glance into the bus from either the side door or the aft section of the vehicle.
Even though they were secured with tie down straps, Najjar could still hear the fifty-five gallon metal drums clanging against each other in the improvised cargo area of the bus. The drums themselves were packed with two primary substances. Some were filled with diesel fuel that Najjar had enhanced with a few simple ingredients to ensure that the liquid would act more like the viscous and sticky napalm when detonated rather than just regular fuel. The other drums were packed tightly with ammonium nitrate, normally a fertilizer, but now with some blasting agents added. Placed around the fifty-five gallon drums were large packets of nails, razor blades, ball bearings, and other various pieces of metal that along with the hull of the bus would act as shrapnel. A long orange string of detonation cord ran from one of the drums all the way up to Najjar's driver's seat. The smell of the fumes from the diesel fuel was strong enough to give Najjar a nauseating contact high along with a splitting headache, but it did not matter. This was a minor inconvenience in the fulfillment of his life’s mission.
The bus was so worn out and heavily laden that starting and stopping in the moderate traffic was difficult for the old vehicle, but Najjar suspected this would draw little attention. School buses were already regarded as being slow moving and cumbersome vehicles. With the fortuitous outbreak of riots by the lazy, self-righteous Americans, he was confident that no police officers would be stopping him anytime soon. Driving onto the school grounds would be done with relative ease. Even if the school administrators had chosen to increase security, they would never suspect anything suspicious about a school bus driving onto a school’s property. Even one that was a little worse for the wear.
Najjar grinned as he thought about just how easy the American’s had made it for them to execute this plan. In the wake of numerous school shootings the foolish infidels had only chosen to increase their defenses within the schools themselves and in many cases only with second rate unarmed security guards. No one seemed to have thought of the possibility that their children could be reached in so many other ways; the most obvious of which were the school buses themselves; unguarded and roaming target rich opportunities as Najjar liked to think of them.
Purchasing the bus had been simple enough. In order to avoid possible suspicions, Najjar had bought the vehicle in another county at an auction a few months after it had been phased out of the Wake County School System's fleet. It was not unusual to see these vehicles for sale as many times “preppers” bought worn out old school buses in order to bury and turn into make shift bomb shelters. Also, what was left of the small private school sector might purchase them as activity buses as well. A few of the auction employees had raised some concerns about a young Arabic male buying a school bus. After he threatened their supervisor with possible legal action for racial discrimination, he had practically been begged to take possession of the bus, with an apology for the inappropriateness of the employees’ questions as well. Najjar chuckled slightly, American's were always so afraid of offending someone, even if it was to their own detriment; unlike the Israelis who openly harassed his Palestinian people on a daily basis. Najjar cursed at that thought.
After the bus had been purchased several associates of their freedom fighting cell, led by Nasir Malik Zahir Kamil had acquired the necessary materials in order to build the massive bomb that was now sitting in the passenger comp
artment. All that was left for Najjar was to drive onto the school property, get as close as he could to the main building and ignite the detonation cord. Then his glorious mission would come to a close with the death of many cursed Americans and their offspring. The infidel's children whose parents had insolently bombed his people from afar and supported the Israeli occupation of his homeland would suffer and he would receive triumphant praise from Allah himself when he reached paradise.
“So let those fight in the cause of Allah who sell the life of this world for the hereafter. And he who fights in the cause of Allah and is killed...We will bestow upon him a great reward.” Najjar verbally quoted the Qur'an as he turned onto Piner Road, which would lead him directly to his intended target.
CHAPTER 19
Karina cowered on the ground, shaking in fear as she pressed her body up against the wall. The pain on the right side of her cheek where she had been backhanded was increasing exponentially and a bruise was already beginning to form. Darren towered over her, his muscles rippling and a look of aggression and hate that she had never seen before was etched across his face.
“What...what, are you doing?” she asked with shock and terror in her voice.
“Did you really think I wouldn’t find out?” he snarled.
“Find out what?”
“I knew all about the NGP's raid on your apartment long before you ever said anything about it to me.” Karina stared at him completely overwhelmed by shock at this revelation.
Darren continued, “...and I also know about your little tryst with your friend as well.” If it were possible Karina felt her heart sink even lower.
“H-h-how...” she managed to stutter. Darren gave her a contemptuous smile as he grabbed her by the left arm and jerked her to her feet before gruffly shoving her back against the wall.
“Did you really think that you could do anything without me knowing about it?”
“It...it...it was nothing.” Karina stuttered even though she knew it was a lie, trying her best to escape the situation and its ramifications.
“Ooohh, it was nothing?” Darren stated in an ominous voice. “Well then my dear, if you are that much of a whore then I will be sure to hand you over to one of my associates later on. He is in the market for a new toy to satisfy his own depravity.” Karina was aghast as horror gripped her spirit.
“Wh-why are you doing this? I thought you were different, I thought you wanted to change things for the better.”
“You are a fool...” Darren hissed. “Did you really think things were going to change that easily? Did you truly believe that simply conducting a few minor protests and some sit ins, even if they did become violent would change anything at all?” Darren forced Karina to turn around and brutally shoved her chest up against the wall. She felt her hands being forced behind her back and then secured tightly by cold metal handcuffs.
“This country is lost. Most of its citizens have the mental acuity of a ten year old and can barely understand anything that is going on around them. I realized a long time ago that it was my job to guide those children to a higher level of understanding while at the same time keeping the right interests at heart.” Darren paused briefly. “The only way to return this country to the people is through the most drastic of measures since most citizens are completely blind to the fact that the rich elite and capitalist overlords are in command of everything; secretly pulling the strings, controlling everyone as they see fit. I will bring down that system and its control over the country.”
“What are you going to do?” Karina asked as she frantically glanced over her shoulder at Darren who pinned her against the wall.
“As I told you, I'm going to give this country back to the people; the real people. The poor and oppressed citizens of this great land that have been crushed under the boot of society for too long; when we are done they will at last rule themselves without an oppressive and fascist regime controlled by blind greed and economic aggression.”
“How?” Karina asked. Her question was answered by a heavy and deep laugh from Darren.
“Oh, in many ways.” he said. “These riots and minor disturbances are nothing. They are, but the tip of a much larger iceberg. This city and this country have yet to see what we have in store for it and by the time we are done it will make Mumbai and Beslan look like liberal hippie gatherings.” Darren hesitated momentarily allowing for the emotional impact of his words to set in.
“This city and soon this nation will crumble from within…and then it will burn...” Darren’s voice grew even more threatening than it had been.
“It will burn with the fires of hell…”
….
The diverse crowd of children quickly filed onto Amatullah Hijrah Najat Salib's awaiting school bus. They were assisted at the entry doorway by two younger female teachers. Most of the students, none of whom were older than thirteen, seemed blissfully ignorant of the chaos that was enveloping their city. Salib knew the school's administration had chosen to only tell the students that the early dismissal was for safety reasons due to a small demonstration on the other side of town. The rest they would leave to the children’s parents to explain.
By the time the boarding was complete Salib had counted a total of fifty-three juveniles on board. It was a good number considering her bus could hold around seventy-seven people. She assumed that some parents had already picked their children up from the school the moment the riots had started or had allowed them to stay home for the day. After the last student had entered the bus, one of the two female teachers that Salib knew by the name of Carla Perez boarded the transport vehicle.
She smiled warmly at Salib before speaking, “Hi, Ama...” she stated using the nick name that Salib had informed her that she could use since it had been her experience that most American's seemed unable to pronounce her first name correctly.
“Watkins wants me to ride with you today just in case you need some extra help getting the kids back to their homes.” Carla stated referring to the school's principal. Salib smiled and nodded in acceptance.
“No, problem. I appreciate the extra help.” she said before thinking quietly to herself, That makes fifty-four.
“Did you hear?” Carla asked as she took a standing position next to the driver's seat.
“Hear what?” Salib responded as she pulled the handle that closed the school bus's double doors and then flicked a lever that locked them; securing everyone inside.
“Wilmington's Deputy Chief of Police was just killed a short while ago.” Carla said leaning over slightly towards Salib being sure to keep her voice low so that the children would not hear them speaking.
“What?” Salib tried to act surprised. While she did not know the specifics of any of the other events that were to transpire on this day it had long been a strategy of many “freedom fighting” Islamic groups that multiple attacks would be carried out within a short period of time to maximize the kill rate of infidels. She fought the jubilant urge to smile upon realizing that she had indeed become an integral piece of a much larger plan aimed at completing Allah's grand work. She now believed that today would indeed be The Perfect Day and her reunion with her lover Haaziq would be a joyous one.
“Yeah, they blew up his patrol car or something. I just saw it on the news. Everyone's getting kind of freaked out, what with the riots and now this.”
“I bet it was one of those right wing Christian extremist groups, like the Colonial Party or something.” Salib postulated.
“Maybe, it's so hard to tell these days with all the crazies running around. I mean why can't they all go off and live somewhere on their own and just leave us normal people alone.”
“Yes...” Salib responded. “This country would be wise if it started taking some lessons from the holy book of Qur'an.”
“I agree.” Carla said as she sat down in the first row of seats next to a child who was only eight years old and seemed very content playing with the toy he had in his hand.
“People
need a peaceful religion to look towards instead of the archaic and medieval beliefs that others still cling to.” Carla added.
“Yes they do.” Salib responded as the bus in front of them slowly began to pull away. Instead of driving forward Salib left her bus in park and sat quietly staring straight ahead. After a few seconds Carla glanced back over at her with a confused look on her face.
“What are you doing?” she asked. Salib did not respond, but continued to stare straight ahead while listening intently to all of the children in the back laughing and talking loudly. Most were very excited to be going home early.
“Ama...” Carla said, again using her friend's nick name, “You can go.” Salib still did not respond maintaining the same distant and vacant stare on her face.
Carla was becoming concerned, “Ama...are you okay?” she asked as she stood from her bench seat and took a step closer, touching Salib on the shoulder. After another moment of silence Carla happened to glance down at Salib's right hand that was resting across her lap and she noticed something unusual. A few sets of what appeared to be wires led out of her jilbab and to a small cylinder like device with a red button on the top. Salib was clutching this device quite tightly.
Carla was confused, why would her friend Ama have such a device tucked in her clothing? She then chuckled to herself. Surely, this wasn't what it looked like. Maybe this was some sort of medical devise like an insulin dispenser or something. What if Ama was in some kind of diabetic shock and that's why she could not respond? Now very concerned, Carla reached for the device thinking that she had to help Salib. The moment she did Salib violently struck Carla in the chest with her free hand knocking her back and away from the driver’s seat.