The Weapon

by David Poyer

  He remembers his father’s face. Wonders why he wasn’t there when the soldiers came. If he had been, would they still own their land?

  The tall man slaps his face. “Well? Speak up!”

  Ghedi’s voice sounds muffled in his own ears. “He did so teach me.”

  “Then show us what he taught.”

  Before the tall man’s finished speaking the gun’s jerking in his hands, deafening, like holding thunder itself. Its flashes show him the eyes of those he kills.