Free The Apex Book of World SF 2 by Lavie Tidhar

extra bandages he
kept underneath a closet. Beside the boxes of medicines, he saw a machete. He
used it occasionally to garden behind his house. It made him think of Chama's
wound, the catalyst for the violence that was sure to happen later. He picked
up the machete and stuffed it into the bag.
    9
Osati and four
hundred and seventeen men and women from Azamé village were shouting in
Bujumbura's streets by the time Katulo and Eyo arrived. They were demanding the
killers of Chama be brought in front of them. Twenty of them were carrying guns
and the rest had rakes, machetes, spades and broom handles. Osati was standing
on top of a cart shouting, "We want them. Bring them out."
     
    There were hundreds
of other people there, too. "Go away, you Tutsi scum," Katulo heard someone
shout. There was a group of Bujumbura citizens facing the villagers. Many of
them were also carrying makeshift weapons. Osati tried to make his way through
the entropy. His walking stick was knocked from under him. He started to fall
but Eyo caught him and the wooden staff. They continued through.
    A shrill whistle
sounded. It announced the arrival of a third group. The police. They were
wearing riot gear and holding up batons. A few were holding up guns. One of
them spoke through a megaphone. "Go home, go home now."
    The presence of the
police added more volatility to the already tense masses. Unease rippled
through the mob. Eyo shouted something but Katulo could not hear him through
the din. Katulo saw a woman whose son he had treated for tonsillitis, crouch.
She had two sons, a six-year-old and a ten-year-old. When she stood up, she was
holding a stone. She flung it and it struck the side of a face. In response, a
wooden pole rose and was brought down on the head of a Tutsi villager. Beside
the man the pole had struck stood a man with a gun. He pointed it. The trigger
was squeezed. The bullet tore through the shoulder of the man holding the pole.
    Katulo reached into
his medical bag. He had wished it would not be necessary but this was only the
beginning of the bloodshed. Soon, people would begin to die. There was only one
thing Katulo could do. His hand was trembling. He grabbed the hilt of the
machete and he pulled it out. He opened himself to the land. He felt the
streets around him and reached into them. He pulled out the past. In his mind,
he was fourteen years old again, out of breath and desperately afraid his
father was dead. He was sprinting down that school corridor again, with every
step getting closer to those terrible sounds: shrieks and gurgles and wails. At
the end of the corridor, opposite a sign that said "EMERGENCY EXIT", there was
a half-open door. Katulo looked in and he saw a pile of bodies. They were tiny,
frail children's bodies stacked up like bricks of flesh and bone. The children
who were still alive were standing in a line and clutching each other. Katulo
saw his father and the other men walking down the line. He saw his father push
a uniform-clad six-year-old Hutu to the floor and swing his machete. He did not
slash her only once. He lifted it again and then brought it down over and over
again. Hacking.
    The revulsion and
confusion Katulo had felt returned to him. He had run away. He had hidden in
the forest, wept alone, and then returned home before nightfall. He did not
mention what he had seen. When he saw his father again, he hugged him and
pretended he had not been there. He had never mentioned that day. He had
decided never to let that memory control him but now he had to let it. It
suffused him. But the memory was not enough. Katulo had never killed so the
land could not Wake unless…
    His fingers tensed
against the machete's hilt and with an abrupt swipe he brought the blade down
against Eyo's neck. He saw shock in Eyo's eyes for a split-second and then the
blade crushed his apprentice's throat. Blood sprayed and dripped down the blade
onto his clenched fingers.
    All around Katulo,
people gasped. Suddenly, smoky