The air in the auditorium was thick with tension as the groans of the infected swelled in intensity. Luke darted through the chaos, his movements precise and calculated. His enhanced senses painted a vivid picture of the battlefield: Justin crouched beside Joseph, trying to lift him, while Mira remained tied to the chair in the corner, fear etched into her face.Luke turned to Bayo, who was swinging his makeshift pipe like a man possessed. “Bayo, cover me!” he shouted, sprinting toward Mira.“Got it!” Bayo yelled back, driving the pipe into the head of an infected student that lunged at him.Luke reached Mira in seconds, his strong hands making quick work of the ropes binding her. “Hold still,” he said, his voice low but urgent.Mira’s breath hitched as the ropes fell away. “Luke,” she murmured, her voice shaking. “I thought—”“No time,” Luke interrupted, grabbing her arm. “Stay close.”Across the room, Justin was hoisting Joseph to his feet. Despite his bulk, Justin moved quickly, on
The morning sun filtered through the shattered windows as the group caught their breath outside the auditorium. The air was thick with tension, their collective relief short-lived. Luke set Akin’s unconscious body down carefully, binding him tight to ensure he couldn’t escape when he woke. He glanced at Mira, who stood nearby, her face still pale but her resolve firm. “Mira,” Luke started, his voice softer than usual, “when I was in that camp... stuck in my head, fighting those nightmares... I remember everything you said to me.” Mira’s lips parted in surprise, her cheeks coloring faintly. She stepped closer, her gaze locked on his. “Everything?” Luke nodded, his expression serious. “Every word. It’s what kept me going. You kept me going.” A flicker of emotion passed across Mira’s face, and before she could stop herself, she leaned forward and kissed him. The world around them seemed to fade for a moment, the chaos and danger temporarily forgotten. Behind them, Joseph cleared
Luke carried Akin over his shoulder, his muscles straining but steady. Justin and Bayo flanked him, battered but alive, while Mira walked beside them, her weapon gripped tightly and her eyes darting nervously.Joseph limped along, supported by Justin, his military fatigues torn and bloodied. Despite his condition, he remained alert, his sharp gaze.As they walked towards the barricades, the sound of boots crunching gravel drew their attention. A group of soldiers emerged from behind the barricades, their rifles raised and expressions wary. The tension in the air was palpable.“Halt!” one of the soldiers barked, stepping forward. His eyes narrowed as he took in the disheveled group, especially Akin’s limp form on Luke’s shoulder.Joseph straightened as much as his injuries allowed. “Stand down,” he said, his voice firm despite his exhaustion. “We’re survivors.”The soldier’s gaze flicked to Joseph’s face, recognition dawning. “Sergeant Joseph?” he asked, lowering his weapon slightly.“
The late afternoon sun cast a golden hue over the encampment, its warm light providing a stark contrast to the cold reality the group had endured. Soldiers patrolled the perimeter, their expressions stoic as they kept watch. For the first time in what felt like forever, the group had a chance to wash up and change into clean clothes provided by the military.Gathered in a quiet corner of the encampment, Sarah, Justin, Favour, Collins, Bayo, and Luke sat together on makeshift benches. The faint sounds of activity buzzed in the distance, but here, amidst the group, there was a fragile sense of peace.Sarah tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her face still pale from exhaustion. “I can’t believe it’s over,” she said softly, her gaze distant.“It doesn’t feel real,” Favour added, his voice subdued. His usual humor was absent, replaced by a heaviness that weighed on them all.Collins shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting toward the encampment gates where his parents were speaking wit
The morning sun pierced through the fabric of the encampment, painting the makeshift shelters and military vehicles in stark contrast. A tent stood out, guarded on both sides by two fierce looking soldiers. Inside, Dennis lounged on a chair, cup of coffee in hand, his demeanor calm, almost smug. He was oblivious to the storm brewing just beyond the walls. The flap of the tent flew open with a burst of energy, and Major Erickson entered, his boots thudding against the ground. His crisp uniform and the fire in his eyes made it clear that he meant business. Two armed soldiers followed, their weapons at the ready. “What is the meaning of this intrusion?” Dennis demanded, placing his cup down with exaggerated care. His voice carried the entitled tone of a man unused to being challenged. Erickson ignored the theatrics, his steely gaze locking onto Dennis. “Governor Dennis,” he began, his voice low and controlled, “you are hereby under arrest for treason, obstruction of justice, and e
The group of survivors clung to Luke and Bayo as they navigated the shattered halls of a building in the university campus. Their breaths came shallow, and their footsteps faltered with every distant moan echoing through the corridors. The once vibrant halls were now a grim labyrinth of overturned furniture, shattered glass, and bloodstains. Fear lingered in their steps, but the determination in their rescuers steadied their movements. Luke led the way, his sharp senses attuned to every sound. He paused frequently, his head tilting slightly as he listened for any signs of movement. Every creak of a door or shuffle of a shoe set the survivors on edge, but Luke's calm demeanor and Bayo’s solid presence at the rear kept them moving forward. Bayo, armed with a metal pipe, occasionally glanced over his shoulder, his gaze piercing the shadows as he guarded against any lurking threats. “Almost there,” Luke whispered, his voice low but reassuring. When they finally approached the universit
A week earlier when Akin tried to kill Mira The streets of Lagos, usually buzzing with life, were eerily silent as millions of Nigerians tuned in to a live broadcast that would change everything. Across the country, in homes, offices, and public spaces, people huddled around televisions, radios, and smartphones, their faces painted with anxiety. The screen flickered, showing a shaky video feed from a well-known Nigerian journalist, Rachel. She and her team had been documenting the military's efforts to contain the outbreak when the unthinkable happened. "Are we live?" Rachel's voice was urgent, her tone a mix of professionalism and terror. Her camera operator panned across the chaotic scene at the army encampment, where soldiers were engaged in a desperate battle against a relentless swarm of students now turned zombies. The broadcast showed soldiers shouting commands, their voices barely audible over the growls and moans of the infected. The camp, which had been a beacon of h
Governor Dennis paced the dimly lit room, a makeshift cell which was made from a shed originally used to sell beverages, the flickering fluorescent light above casting long shadows that danced across the walls. His usually pristine suit was crumpled, and beads of sweat rolled down his temple. The air was thick, suffocating, filled with the faint scent of disinfectant and despair.In the corner of the room, Akin slouched in a metal chair, his hands bound tightly behind him. His head lolled forward, and his breathing was slow and shallow. The drugs they had pumped into his system to keep him sedated were still in effect, but the occasional twitch of his fingers hinted that they might be wearing off.Dennis tried to avoid looking directly at his nephew, but his eyes kept flickering toward him. Akin, once the bright and promising young man who had stayed with him during school breaks, was now unrecognizable. His skin was pale, his veins darkened, and there was an unsettling hollowness in
The warm evening sun dipped below the horizon, casting a soft orange glow over Lagos. Luke and Mira walked hand-in-hand along the quiet streets, the sound of their footsteps a comforting rhythm beneath the bustling city noises. It had been three months since they had been released from the detention facility, and things had finally started to feel normal again—or as normal as life could be after everything they had endured.Luke couldn’t remember the last time he felt this carefree. For the first time in a long time, there were no heavy burdens weighing on his shoulders. No government scrutiny, no terrifying fear of what the future might hold. He was simply Luke again, the young man who had fought to survive but also the man who could finally enjoy life.Mira glanced at him, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “You seem… different. In a good way.”Luke returned the smile, his eyes lighting up as he squeezed her hand. “I feel different. I feel like I’ve finally been given a second chance
The weeks had dragged on, the sterile walls of the detention facility becoming an oppressive reminder of the world that had come to fear Luke and Bayo. They were no longer the heroes who fought to survive—they were the weapons that had once been their salvation, now seen as potential threats to the fragile stability that the world clung to. The military’s tight control over them, the constant surveillance, and the relentless scrutiny from every corner of the globe had taken its toll. Luke’s mind was weary, and his body reflected the strain. Every day felt like an eternity spent in a cage, the lingering uncertainty about what the world would think of him once he was released only fueling the exhaustion that gripped his every waking moment. It wasn’t just about the physical confinement anymore—it was about how he would be perceived by a world that had watched him fight, watched him kill, and watched him struggle. His parents—Laura and Samuel—visited regularly. Their support was unwav
The chaos at Eko State University was broadcast worldwide, its devastation felt far beyond the borders of Lagos. In a quiet mansion in Ikoyi, far from the inferno, Morenike paced her living room. Her eyes were glued to the TV, where Rachel’s live coverage replayed the horrors of the past hours. Her son, Akin, was on every channel—a vision of destruction and fury. Clips showed him commanding infected hordes, fighting soldiers, and causing untold devastation. The media painted him as a symbol of the apocalypse, a man consumed by the infection yet capable of terrifying control. “No… no, this can’t be my Akin,” Morenike whispered, her voice breaking. She gripped the back of the nearest chair, her knuckles turning white. Her maid, Titi, approached cautiously. “Madam, maybe it’s best to rest. This news… it’s too much.” Morenike shook her head vehemently. “That’s my son. My boy. What have they done to him?” Her knees buckled, and she sank into the chair, tears streaming down her face.
The rhythmic hum of the helicopter's blades cut through the eerie silence of the Eko State University (EKSU) campus. Below, a scene of chaos was coming to a tense standstill. Bayo’s figure, barely distinguishable in the dim light, moved among the lifeless, shambling zombies. His exhausted yet determined strides guided them toward their designated points, keeping the horde tightly controlled. Soldiers and survivors huddled at a safe distance, their wide eyes shifting uneasily between the horde and the sky. Major Erickson stood near the frontline, his steely demeanor masking the weight of the decision he was about to execute. Luke stood beside Mira, her fingers laced tightly through his. They both watched Bayo with a mix of admiration and dread. Nearby, Luke’s parents remained quiet, their expressions frozen in the same disbelief mirrored by every other face. Erickson raised his radio. His voice carried a calm authority that belied the tension in the air. “Echo Base, this is Major Er
The battlefield was eerily quiet, save for the occasional groan of a wounded soldier. The once-mindless zombies now stood frozen, their lifeless eyes staring into the void. Soldiers and survivors stared at the undead in stunned silence, unsure whether to rejoice or remain on guard. The tension hung heavy in the air, a mix of relief and dread. Bayo knelt on the ground, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. He wiped sweat from his brow, his connection to the horde severed but still leaving a faint, nagging hum in his mind. He glanced around, his gaze meeting Luke’s. “You good?” Luke asked, stepping closer. Bayo nodded, though his exhaustion was evident. “Yeah... for now.” Major Erickson approached the group, his face set in a grim expression. He surveyed the scene, his sharp eyes taking in the scattered corpses of zombies and the soldiers who had fallen in battle. His radio crackled to life, breaking the uneasy silence. “This is Echo Base. Major, your package h
Rachel hovered in the helicopter, her camera zoomed in on the chaos below. Her live feed broadcasted to millions worldwide, capturing a battle no one could have imagined. Below her, the scene was apocalyptic: zombies clawing and thrashing, their hunger insatiable. In their midst, Luke fought with a ferocity that demanded attention. “This is Rachel, live from the heart of what might be the most pivotal moment in human history,” she said into her headset. “What you’re witnessing isn’t just survival—it’s war. And leading it are three individuals who may very well change the tide of this conflict.” The camera focused on Luke, his enhanced strength on full display as he tore through the horde. To the side, Bayo stood like an immovable wall, holding the zombies at bay through sheer will and some mysterious connection to them. Above it all, Akin stood on the roof of an overturned military truck, his commanding presence undeniable. His laughter echoed across the battlefield as he spread h
Bayo’s knees wobbled as the weight of the horde's relentless advance seemed to press down on his chest. The battlefield was chaos— filled with growls, screams, and the sharp sounds of gunfire. Every breath he took felt heavier, like something primal was clawing at the edges of his mind. His vision blurred momentarily as he stumbled back, clutching his head. “Bayo, what’s wrong?” Luke’s voice barely reached him over the noise. “I… I don’t know,” Bayo murmured, his words barely audible. The moment Akin had stepped forward, the air had shifted. There was a palpable charge, a sense of inevitability. And for Bayo, something else entirely—a flood of raw emotion that wasn’t his. At first, it was faint, like static on a weak signal. But now it roared through him with a ferocity he couldn’t ignore. He gritted his teeth, his head pounding with every passing second. Rage. Hunger. A deep, unrelenting hunger that burned hotter than anything he had ever felt. --- The horde pressed forward, t
Luke paced restlessly near the makeshift shelter they had found for Mira and his parents, hidden away in an abandoned building far from the chaos of the encampment. Mira sat beside Laura, comforting her as Samuel kept watch by the entrance. Bayo leaned against the wall, sharpening his machete, his eyes scanning their surroundings with the same sharpness as his blade. “You feel it, don’t you?” Luke said suddenly, breaking the silence. Bayo looked up, his expression unreadable. “Yeah. Something’s off.” Luke clenched his fists. His enhanced senses were screaming at him. Ever since the attack started, there had been an inexplicable pull—like a thread connecting him to Akin. It was faint at first, but now it was undeniable, like a beacon drawing him toward the source of the chaos. “What do you think he’s up to?” Luke asked, his voice low. Bayo sighed, sheathing his machete he had picked from a fallen soldier. “You know what he’s capable of, Luke. He’s not the same person you knew
The air reeked of blood, smoke, and decay as Major Erickson crouched behind an overturned truck, reloading his rifle with trembling hands. Around him, the remnants of his unit fought desperately to hold their ground against the horde. Their once-tight defensive line had shattered, replaced by chaotic clusters of men and women firing in every direction.Erickson’s radio crackled, static-laced screams filling the channel. He shut it off, his jaw tightening. There was no point in calling for reinforcements; they were on their own.From his position, Erickson could see the focal point of the horde: Akin. The boy was slumped against a steel barricade as Erickson had freed him in an attempt to escape with his prisoner but had to drop him to save himself as the zombie seemed to focus on him furiously,Akin lay on the ground in a sitting position his semi-conscious form eerily still despite the chaos. His head lolled as if the drugs coursing through his veins had tethered him to some half-drea