Claustrophobic | Skephalo

A Clean Slate

Clay

A rush of emotions flashed across Clay's face before he began to tell his story. "When I first met Dave, he was half dead. I try to forget about it most of the time: the way his skin hung from his body as if it was melting, the redness in his eyes that made me wince as I looked into them; for as long as I've known Dave, I've buried the memory of meeting him deep into my subconscious. It worked, for a while, but talking about my old routine and how I've been searching for a cure... It brought everything back.

"Dave had told me he had already been bitten only a few minutes after meeting me, but he didn't even need to open his mouth for me to tell he was infected; I'm a doctor, so by the time I ran into Dave, I had seen every disaster that could have been procured by the disease.

"I didn't want him to be another lost cause, so I took him under my care. I figured- I might as well try something, because either way he's going to die. So one night, when he was sleeping, I injected him with a mixture of my blood, the blood of an infected— but not yet dead— person, and a random assortment of various chemicals I had left in stock. Honestly, I don't even know what half of them were.

"The next morning, Dave had no memory of the day before. His personality remained the same as before, as far as I know, but any knowledge of his life before the apocalypse was gone. It was like he was a completely new person, and I could basically shape him to my own will. His mind was a clean slate.

"Not wanting to freak him out, I completely hid the fact that he had been close to death just a few hours before we met, and it just never came up again. We ran into other people who wanted to form a team, so we did; we never strayed too far from the city I found Dave in, because he's always had some... Weird anxiety about it... But, I don't know, it probably relates back to him almost turning into a zombie."

Vincent pauses to think for a few seconds, processing everything Clay has just shared. "So... You found a cure?"

"For Dave specifically, yes. For people who've already turned... I don't know. There's no way for me to recreate anything without the chemicals I used last time, anyways. He's the one and only immune, I guess."

"Is that why he could touch the Enderman's eye? Is he immune to anything resulting from the chemical plant explosion?"

"I don't know."

"Earlier, he came to me thinking that he was immortal. He told me that you didn't know about it, and Darryl and Zak were suspicious of him and wanted to sacrifice him. Does that ring any bells?"

"Dave was suspicious about his past in the beginning, but I never said anything to him about it. I would just feed him small bits and pieces of a past I made up for him. Somehow, Dave knew that the eye wouldn't burn him, so I'm guessing he has some natural instinct that he can't get infected, and he always brings up the fact that he 'can't die.' I don't think he knows exactly what that means, though."

"This is all so crazy. Dave is seriously immune to the virus that wiped out pretty much all of humanity? I mean, I don't even know what to do with this information." Vincent hoists himself onto the counter to sit facing Clay.

"Well, first of all, we should tell Darryl and Zak. If Dave came to you about having suspicions, that can't be good."

"Then?"

"We explain to Dave that just because he can't be infected by the zombie disease doesn't mean he can't be injured. If he's immune to all of the creations of the apocalypse, it doesn't mean we're going to sacrifice him. Maybe I'll take a sample of his blood or something to test, but nothing more."

Rocco whines at Clay's feet as the first light of the sun that morning started to shine through the blinds on the windows, casting a golden hue throughout the kitchen. Clay opens the back door for Rocco to run around outside, leaving it cracked so he could re-enter whenever he wanted.