Campus of the undead

Shadow of betrayal

Amos paced back and forth in the dimly lit room, the faint hum of the overhead bulb doing little to soothe his growing frustration. "What the hell is wrong with them!?" he spat, his voice sharp with anger. He dragged his hand through his disheveled hair, his breath coming in short bursts. "I told them to keep it quiet. Just stay in the shadows, but no—they had to involve those damned terrorists!"

Amos’s mind raced, piecing together the fragments of chaos. The serum—the very thing he had sworn to keep hidden—was now at the center of this unfolding nightmare. How had Zotes learned about it? Worse, how had they turned it into a weapon? He clenched his fists, veins bulging against his skin.

His phone buzzed, jolting him out of his thoughts. This time, the caller ID read Unknown Number. He hesitated, his thumb hovering over the screen before answering.

"Who is this?" he barked.

A gravelly voice responded, calm yet laced with menace. "Governor Amos. We've been expecting your call. Surprised you didn't reach out sooner."

Amos's blood ran cold. He recognized the voice instantly—it was one of Zotes' top operatives. "What do you want?" he demanded, his voice hoarse.

"Relax. We're not here to negotiate. Just thought you'd like to know that your little secret? It’s not so secret anymore," the voice sneered.

"You had no right—" Amos began, but the operative cut him off.

"Rights?the only thing that matters now is control. You lost it the moment you trusted the wrong people. But don't worry, we’ll make good use of your creation.”

The line went dead.

Amos gripped the phone tightly, his knuckles white. His chest heaved as panic and fury swirled within him. The realization hit hard—this wasn’t just about Zotes. This was about his failure to contain something he should never have created. And now he was paying the price for his arrogance.

The glass cup on the table caught his eye, and with a sudden burst of rage, he hurled it against the wall. The crash echoed through the room, shards scattering like his thoughts. "How did they even find out about the serum?" he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. The question had been haunting him ever since Zotes made their public declaration. His grip tightened on the edge of the table as he tried to piece it all together.

The shrill ring of his phone sliced through the silence. He glanced at the screen: Morenike—Sister. Amos’s brows furrowed. "Why the hell is she calling now?" he muttered, pressing the answer button.

"Hello, now's really not the time—"

"What’s going on, Amos?" Morenike’s voice was shrill, panic laced in every syllable.

"What are you talking about?" Amos replied, his tone clipped, his patience already worn thin.

"The attack! Eko University! Don’t play dumb with me!" she snapped, her voice trembling.

Amos froze, his mind racing. Then, as if a lightbulb flickered on, it hit him. "s**t," he muttered under his breath. "Your son..."

"My son?" Her voice rose, turning accusatory. "You forgot my son is in that school? Amos, are you insane? That’s your nephew!"

He clenched his jaw, already regretting his momentary lapse. "I didn’t forget," he lied smoothly. "Things are... complicated right now. But I’ll handle it."

"You’ll handle it?" she repeated, her tone incredulous. "Amos, he’s my only child! If anything happens to him—"

"Calm down," Amos interrupted sharply. "I’ll do what I can, alright? But you need to let me work."

There was a pause, a heavy silence that felt like judgment through the phone. Finally, Morenike spoke, her voice quieter but no less firm. "You’d better, Amos. Or you’ll never hear the end of this." The line went dead.

Amos let out a heavy breath, tossing the phone onto the table. He sank into a chair, his head in his hands. "How could I forget the kid was there?" he muttered to himself. "Not like I care much for the brat anyway." He sat up, a dark scowl crossing his face. "But for Morenike's sake... I’ll do the bare minimum."

He stood, staring at the mess of shattered glass on the floor. His lips curled into a sneer. "Zotes, you bastards. This is your fault. The serum was supposed to stay a secret!" His voice grew louder with every word, anger boiling over.

But deep down, Amos knew the truth. Zotes might have exploited the serum, but he had opened the door for them. Now, the chaos unfolding was as much his responsibility as theirs. And for the first time, he wondered just how much he was willing to sacrifice to clean up his mess to avoid it from being traced back to him.