He glared furiously at me. “Make the first shot count, John,” he said. “You’ll never get another.”
I pulled the trigger.
He fell back against the wall, an expression of surprise on his face. I fired twice more, but with no effect. I knew I had hit him. I heard the thunk of the bullets as they dug into him. Then I remembered that he was wearing body armor, and I aimed at his head.
“At last, you are finally my brother,” he said, just before I pulled the trigger.
22.
And that is the story—or at least the story so far.
When news of Tchaka’s death spread throughout the Empire, world after world declared its independence. I can foresee the day, maybe thirty years from now, maybe even less, when the Zulus will be confined to this world, perhaps to just a small section of it.
And, as before, they will look at each newborn boy and ask: are you the One? Could you possibly be the One?
I pray that the answer will always be No.
Epilogue
After making the Zulus the dominant tribe in all of Africa and expanding his kingdom to the point where he controlled an area larger than France, Shaka was assassinated by his half-brother Dingane.
With the death of Shaka, the Zulus fell from primacy for the next five hundred years.