Two Hangmen, One Scaffold Book II: In The Hangman�s Shadow

Chapter 7

71 C Chapter 7 aking up to find parts of the compound and the footpaths somewhat cobbled with human relics, including skulls, was a bad omen for the compound dwellers. Matipa believed the exhumed bones were hording calamity. When the orderly struck Madzibaba Tinashe repeatedly in the chest and blood poured from his mouth and nose, Matipa knew from the prophecy Jatropha delivered to the elder the man wouldn’t make it. When the attack started, Matipa and Ivy latched and locked themselves in the house. Their security and safety suddenly an undocumented cooperative issue, they witnessed the bloodshed through cracks in the door. From the neighbour’s hut, Evans Emedhi emerged with an axe, the size normally used for slaughtering bulls. The stony disposition, that culturing evil allegedly medically explained at Kadoma General Hospital as some rare disease, had left him. The created void had seemingly attracted a catastrophic, warrior-like fervour that powered him with the speed and agility of an athlete. As Madzibaba Tinashe lay kicking, vomiting blood and vainly trying to crawl away, three men in overalls, a mill feeder, the other two lashers, threw caution to the wind and ran to his aid. That was their last dash on earth. They didn’t realise the orderly had emerged armed from the hut. Emedhi converged with them at the elder. He swung the axe thrice. The men fell. True to the prophecy, Evans Emedhi was splitting heads open. The gore was unbelievable. Matipa, who had never seen so much blood all her life, looked away. When she had the nerve to peer out through the crack, she saw blood gushing from the men’s heads. The mill feeder and a lasher rolled on the ground, their desperate animation rapidly diminishing. The other lasher, though it appeared the blade of the axe had sank into his fontanel, he struggled to his feet and staggered towards the W 72 killer, too dazed and disoriented to see he was presenting himself to Emedhi who stood in front of him, the axe poised. It swished horizontally. Matipa closed her eyes. Ivy, peering through a lower crack, screamed and held her mouth. When Matipa opened her eyes again, the lasher was on the ground kicking his last. From that distance, it appeared the axe ripped off his left temple and part of his forehead. Someone had to stop the gore. Gogo Belemina, a redundant woman believed to be from Botswana, appeared from nowhere. Despite her advanced age, she didn’t use a walking cane. She approached Emedhi slowly, pointing a reproachful finger at him. His back was to her, the dying men seemed to occupy him. She was saying something, but the noise from sympathisers and screaming women was deafening; many people shouted and screamed at the old woman to turn back. Ivy was one of them, but the old woman was unstoppable. When she was about five metres from the killer, Emedhi suddenly turned and stared at her. Between them, the mill feeder kicked his last. The old woman grabbed the hem of her long dress, an outdated garment that swept the ground and covered her chipped feet. To everyone’s astonishment, she pulled the hem up, exposing her rickety, speckled, emaciated legs. She continued to pull it, exposing her thighs, which were nothing more than crumpled folds of skin pasted on bowed bones. Matipa feared for the tactless woman. Should her nudity prove ineffective, he would kill her. This wasn’t some game. “What’s she doing?” Ivy asked fearfully, her eyes riveted on the scene outside. “It’s an old trick. She’s trying to shame Emedhi or whatever is in him into backing away from her nakedness.” “My God, that’s daredevil of her.” “Someone must stop her.” “Who’d dare? She’s already in the shadow of death.” 73 Silence descended on the compound as if any noise or urging would shatter whatever was restraining the possessed man into striking the old woman. She pulled the hem to her chin. Her breasts were craggy sheaths. Except for a string of coloured beads around her waistline, Gogo Belemina had no underwear whatsoever. Emedhi started towards her, his strides long and determined, raising the axe as he stepped over the lasher’s body between them. Matipa thought the woman was attempting to bolt when she turned over, the hem still under her chin, only to expose...