The New World Order, "China"

By Dr. Mustafa Saleh

This is a science fiction tale, told in the future, from the perspective of a patriotic American Muslim man. In its telling, it highlights and criticizes American policies that treat others unjustly, primarily Muslims and especially Muslim Americans.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: May 22, 2017
• ISBN: 9781543902396

Book preview

MPH

Nightmare

Ramsy woke up at 4:00 a.m. after tossing and turning all night. Looking in the mirror, he saw a man in his late fifties, with the vigor and appeal of a man in his late forties, despite the lack of sleep. It was no secret where his youthful health came from. Twenty years in the armed forces as an Army vet saving military dogs will keep any man in peak shape. Ramsy stared into the eyes in the mirror. Those twenty years came with its own nightmares. Flashes of soldiers and canine bodies, blown into pieces, nights spent at the mosque praying for men who served in the forces with him. Men from all walks of life: Jews, Christians, agnostics, Catholics, Muslims, and more. They all, together, sacrificed their lives for America, its democracy, freedom of speech, and way of life that gives unalienable rights to every American citizen. They were—are—all Americans in the line of duty and knew what it meant to risk their lives for their country and its people. Ramsy walked away from the mirror to the balcony of his apartment on the tenth floor. It was a typical morning in Virginia, cold and damp.

Dew collected on the grass around the big lake, east of the apartment building. School buses hissed and cars honked, all overcome by the blare of the incoming train north of the thick, green trees. He retreated back inside, grabbed a stack of photos from his nightstand, and crawled back into bed. He sifted through the pictures of his wife and three sons. The family was separated by three different states. Ramsy decided to call his children, as he would sometimes do in the morning. One after the other, none of them answered.

It was still early, so he figured they were still asleep. Ramsy looked at the clock on his bedroom wall. Time was pacing slowly, so he turned on the TV. The channels were bleak: nothing but homicide, kidnappings, war, and an onslaught of advertisements for the latest remedies for colon discomfort and obesity. While flipping through the channels, he stopped at a news program that showed people being killed and tortured. Then, there was coverage on a massive earthquake in China that destroyed an entire city. People were fleeing, their belongings slipping from under their arms as they ran past cemented fragments of buildings toppling over.

Ramsy turned the TV off, deciding that even restless sleep would be a better way to pass the time. After what seemed like days, Ramsy’s eyes flashed opened, and he woke up screaming from a horrible nightmare. He looked at the clock; two hours had passed. Ramsy sat up in bed with an uneasy feeling. He couldn’t shake the thought that something bad was going to happen. He decided to dress and have a shave, but as he held the razor to his face, he grew more anxious, his breathing became more rapid, and his heart raced as if he were in a marathon. He was afraid, but he didn’t know why. Was it the nightmare, or was this a premonition, a knowing feeling before something bad happens? Vivid images of the dream started coming back to him.

Without another second to waste, Ramsy called the administration office at the White House, but no one answered. After repeated attempts at trying to reach the White House but with no success, Ramsy became more worried. This can’t be happening! Ramsy yelled into the phone. His thoughts skipped from one to another. Why is no one answering? Could my dream be real? No, our nation is strong! We’re prepared for any attack, Ramsy thought, but he couldn’t shake the images out of his head.

He slammed the phone down, zipped down the stairs, and ran down the sidewalk like a madman. Ramsy tried to stop any taxi that zoomed past him on the busy morning roads. It was rush hour, and traffic was unbelievably busy—not one taxi stopped. He ran into the street in front of the next taxi he saw, and it slammed its brakes a foot away from him. He opened the back door and jumped in. To the White House, and hurry! It’s an emergency! Ramsy said. He looked at the cab driver incredulously when the taxi continued to stand still. The cabbie was an overweight, middle-aged man with long, greasy hair that stuck together and a thick mustache that squatted over his lips.

Sir, I don’t know who you are, but you can’t just jump into my cab and order me to go to the White House, the cabbie said, with a voice like Sylvester Stallone’s, the old Hollywood legend, long