CHAPTER THREE — BLOOD IN THE DARK
1695 Words
The gunshot ripped through the safe house like thunder.
Amara screamed as Ghost slammed her to the ground, shielding her body with his. Plaster rained from the cracked ceiling. The bulb flickered violently. Shouts and heavy boots filled the doorway.
“Down!” Ghost growled.
Scorpion fired first three rapid shots that sent two men stumbling back into the rain. More shadows filled the entrance. More guns. More danger than Amara had ever imagined existed in one place.
Ghost rolled off her and grabbed the gun hidden under the couch. He moved with terrifying speed, his injured arm barely slowing him. Another bullet hissed past her head, smashing into the wall behind her.
“Stay low!” he snapped.
But Amara was frozen.
Her heartbeat roared in her ears.
Her hands trembled.
Her breath caught in her throat.
This was no movie.
No fantasy.
This was death coming through the door.
Ghost fired again, his jaw clenched, eyes blazing with raw fury.
Scorpion ducked behind the metal cabinet.
“They came heavy, Ghost! Balogun no dey play!”
More gunshots tore through the safe house.
Amara crawled behind the couch, shaking so hard she could barely control her limbs. Ghost saw her from the corner of his eye saw her fear, her vulnerability and something dark snapped inside him.
Not her.
Not tonight.
Not in front of him.
He fired twice, dropped one man, then shouted:
“Scorpion! Back exit!”
“I dey try open am!” Scorpion yelled over the gunfire.
Ghost cursed under his breath, then reached over the couch and pulled Amara against him.
Her breath hitched.
“Listen to me,” he said, voice low but firm. “You follow my lead. You no stop. You no turn back. You no scream. You understand?”
She nodded shakily.
“I said do you understand?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
Ghost brushed her cheek with the back of his hand gentle, unexpected.
“Good girl.”
Heat shot through her chest despite the chaos.
Why did his touch feel like fire?
Why did his voice make her dizzy?
Another bullet tore through the air. Ghost shoved her down again and returned fire.
One of Balogun’s men charged inside, firing wildly.
Ghost didn’t hesitate.
He met the man halfway, grabbed his wrist, twisted
A bone cracked.
The gun fell.
Ghost elbowed him in the throat once hard
The man collapsed instantly.
Amara stared, terrified yet mesmerized.
He moved like a storm.
Efficient.
Cold.
Deadly.
And yet… he kept looking back at her.
Checking.
Protecting.
Why?
She still didn’t understand.
“Ghost!” Scorpion shouted. “Back door open!”
Ghost grabbed Amara’s hand.
“Move!”
They sprinted toward the narrow hallway. More bullets tore into the walls behind them. Amara’s legs felt rubbery, but Ghost’s grip kept her steady.
The back door opened into a narrow alley behind the bakery.
Ghost pushed Amara ahead of him.
“Run!”
She did.
The rain was colder now, sharp like needles against her skin. Her dress clung to her body, her sandals slipping on wet cement. Scorpion ran beside them, firing over his shoulder.
“Left!” Ghost shouted.
They turned a corner and froze.
Three men blocked the alley, guns raised.
“Ghost,” one of them sneered, “Balogun say make we bring your head.”
Ghost pushed Amara behind him again, his body tense, eyes calculating.
“Scorpion,” Ghost said quietly, “no let any bullet touch her.”
Scorpion nodded once.
The men fired.
Ghost didn’t wait he pulled Amara down just as bullets screamed over them. He rolled, grabbed a metal trash bin, and kicked it forward. It clattered loudly, distracting the gunmen long enough for Scorpion to fire two perfect shots.
Two men dropped.
The last one panicked and ran.
Ghost got up, breathing hard.
His arm throbbed.
His shirt was soaked in blood and rain.
But he grabbed Amara again, dragging her into another alley.
“We need to vanish,” he muttered. “Balogun go block every road.”
Amara gasped for breath, clinging to his arm.
“Ghost… where are we going?”
“A place wey nobody fit follow.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because na only me know am.”
They moved quickly through back routes, broken fences, and narrow passages until they reached a silent, abandoned compound with a collapsed gate.
Inside the compound, Ghost guided her toward a hidden staircase beneath a rusted metal sheet.
“What is this?” she whispered.
“A bunker,” he said simply. “Old one.”
He opened the hatch and helped her climb down the dusty ladder.
The space below was small, dark, and cold but safe.
For now.
Scorpion climbed down last, pulling the hatch shut above them.
The bunker smelled of old concrete and metal. There were crates, a broken fan, and a dim lamp Ghost switched on.
Amara sank against the wall, shaking.
Her entire world had changed in one night.
Ghost wiped rain from his face, then turned toward her.
“You okay?”
“No,” she said honestly. “I’m not.”
He crouched in front of her.
“You dey breath. You dey alive. That na enough for now.”
Her eyes filled with tears she tried to hide.
“How can you be so calm right now?”
Ghost looked at her in silence for a long moment.
Then he placed his hand on her cheek again.
“I no dey calm,” he whispered. “I just dey used to danger.”
His touch… too soft for a man like him.
Her tears fell.
Ghost wiped one with his thumb.
“You’re shaking.”
“Because people are trying to kill us!”
“People dey try kill me every week,” he said quietly. “But I no go let anybody touch you.”
Something fluttered painfully in her chest.
“Why?” she whispered. “Why do you care?”
Ghost didn’t answer immediately.
Instead, he stood, pacing once before stopping.
“Scorpion,” he said, “check upstairs. Make sure no one follow us.”
Scorpion nodded and climbed back up the ladder.
Once they were alone, Ghost exhaled slowly.
His guard lowered.
His face softened.
“You ask why I care.”
He stepped closer.
“Because I bring you into this.”
“You didn’t mean to,” she whispered.
“No, but e happen. And now… you dey my responsibility.”
Her heart thudded.
Ghost knelt again, closer this time.
Too close.
“You smart,” he murmured. “You brave. Even when bullets dey fly, you no freeze. You move.”
“I froze,” she whispered.
“But you still help me clean my wound. You still follow me. You still dey here.”
His eyes darkened. “Girls no dey follow men like me.”
Her breath shook.
“And what kind of man are you?”
Ghost leaned in, his lips inches from hers.
“A man wey danger dey follow.”
His voice dropped lower.
“A man wey no suppose want someone like you.”
Her pulse raced.
“Ghost…”
He closed his eyes for a moment—as if fighting himself.
Then he muttered:
“Amara… you no suppose dey this close to me.”
“Then why are you the one getting closer?”
Ghost’s eyes snapped open.
Heat.
Intensity.
Something raw.
He lifted her hand slowly, deliberately, as if giving himself permission to touch her. His fingers slid around her wrist, trailing upward, gentle but firm.
Amara’s breath hitched.
“You’re shaking again,” he whispered.
“Because you’re too close,” she whispered back.
Ghost smiled a slow, dangerous, beautiful smile.
“I sabi.”
His face lowered to hers.
Her lips parted.
Her heart pounded so loud she could hear it echo in the bunker walls.
He was about to kiss her
Until
BOOM!!!
The bunker shook violently, dust raining from above.
Ghost grabbed her shoulders protectively.
“What was that?” Amara gasped.
Scorpion’s voice shouted from above:
“Ghost! Balogun’s men don find us! They get explosives!”
Ghost’s expression hardened instantly.
He grabbed Amara’s hand.
“Move!”
Another explosion shook the ground stronger this time.
The hatch above them cracked open as Scorpion slid down fast.
“They dey break the gate! We no get time!”
Ghost cursed under his breath.
“Tunnel,” he said. “We go use the old tunnel.”
“What tunnel?” Amara cried.
“The one wey lead to the canal. No worry I go carry you.”
He grabbed a crowbar, forced open a metal grate in the wall, and revealed a narrow underground tunnel filled with darkness.
Amara stared at it in horror.
“We have to go in there?”
Ghost cupped her face, forcing her to meet his eyes.
“Do you trust me?”
Her heart raced.
Her breath shook.
Her body trembled.
But her answer was instant.
“Yes.”
Ghost smiled faintly.
“Good girl. Hold me tight.”
He helped her inside the tunnel first. Scorpion followed.
Ghost crawled in last, sealing the grate behind them.
The sound of Balogun’s men pounding into the bunker echoed behind the metal.
Gunshots.
Shouts.
Explosions.
Amara grabbed Ghost’s hand in the darkness.
“Ghost… will we make it out?”
Ghost squeezed her hand tightly.
“As long as you dey with me… nobody fit touch you.”
But then
A loud splash echoed from up ahead.
Scorpion froze.
“Ghost…” he whispered. “Something dey the tunnel.”
“What thing?” Amara whispered, her voice trembling.
Ghost pulled her closer, ready to shield her again.
Scorpion aimed his gun forward but his hand shook.
Because something moved in the water.
Something big.
Something breathing.
And then a voice echoed from inside the darkness cold, familiar, deadly:
“Ghost…
You really think say you fit run from me?”
Amara’s blood turned to ice.
Ghost’s face hardened.
“Balogun.”
- Writer
