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In Kivu, the eastern region of Congo…
“Aack!” Unamu Stang, a Hutu child soldier, screamed from his tent.
All the adults who were coughing from exhaustion last night had collapsed. They all coughed up a handful of blood as well. Everyone in the FDLR’s army[1] were on the floor except Unamu, who went to Rwanda to sell tungsten.
“Uncle! Uncle!”
Unamu shook one of the bodies. He put his finger on the man’s mustache to see if he was breathing. He couldn’t feel anything.
Unamu’s legs gave out.
“Uncle…”
The man who was on the floor was a soldier of the FDLR who had raised Unamu, an orphan, since he was a baby and taught him how to shoot. He was one of the kindest people among the adults who were always abusive and violent. He was like a father to Unamu.
“Ah… Ha…”
Unamu frantically ran out of the tent in fear. But then, he saw something in the dense jungle that brought him to a halt. He saw several dead gorillas lying on the floor exactly like the adults. A thought flashed through Unamu’s head.
‘Ebola.’
Chills ran through Unamu’s body. Ebola was a killer far more terrifying than guns or landmines; it was the top predator that ruled Africa. Ebola quietly entered the tent like a silent assassin, killed everyone, and left.
‘M—Maybe...
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