Jihad

CHAPTER 104

Kenan had never been in the St. Louis airport before. Not sure where he had to go to catch the connecting flight to Mexico, he stopped to read the signs. As he did, someone bumped into him from behind. Caught by surprise, Kenan flew to the ground. Unable to get his hands up in time to break his fall, he took most of the blow on his chin. The pain blinded him, a searing shock he felt in his back and skull as well as his face. Tears welled in his eyes, not merely from the pain of the fall but from the last twenty-four hours.

God had forsaken him. He was alone among the People of Hell, without friends, without hope.

A strong hand gripped his arm.

“Let me help you up,” said a calm voice.

Fighting back tears, Kenan struggled to his feet.

“Are you all right?” asked a man with yellowish skin. He was roughly Kenan’s age, but built like a football lineman.

Kenan managed to nod.

“You dropped this,” said the man, scooping up a book from the floor. He placed it in Kenan’s hand, then started away.

Kenan, dazed from the floor, stared at the book, a cheap paperback thriller.

It wasn’t his.

The man was gone. Kenan tucked the book under his arm and stepped to the side. He moved his jaw up and down, pushing against the pain.

Kenan glanced at the cover of the book. It showed a nondescript skyline framed by a red explosion in the background. Not only wasn’t it his, but it wasn’t the sort of thing he would read. Kenan glanced around, looking to see where it had come from. There were no bookstores nearby, no magazine stands. Obviously the man who’d bumped into him hadn’t had it.

Unless he was a messenger, sent to encourage him.

That wasn’t part of the plan. And the man didn’t use any of the words the mujahideen used to identify themselves to others.

But the book must be a message, Kenan thought. Nothing happened randomly — all was part of God’s plan, waiting to be revealed. It was meant to encourage him, to keep him from giving up.

Kenan’s hand trembled as he looked at the cover again. It showed an explosion deep in a city — God’s wrath, surely.

He took a deep breath, then began looking for the flight board, book in hand.