Continuation of the new series, Immune.
Collaboration with Jsmn.
After calling him as if it’s the only name in the world besides hers, finally he appeared in her sight. She was aching, in pain, in fear and the cold. “WHAT?!” he was pissed, anyone would know with his tone but what can she do? She’s freaking scared. “I-I…”
“OH MY GOD!” she slowly looked to where he was looking and as she saw what is lying beneath her, her heart almost skipped a beat. Feeling the sticky blood still warm in her hands. Her hand started trembling… she doesn’t remember anything but she knows in the depths of her consciousness, it’s the first time that she saw a dead body. Hiccups started before her tears fall, “M-M..M.-” she mumbled with partial hiccups and trembling voice. She won’t scream, that won’t do a thing but more danger.
Instinct to protect even in the event of being in serious pain moved Michael to try and pull Claire away from the terrible face. As he pulled her back, he could see the slick of fresh blood that was now coating Claire in a sticky mess. This would only add to the horror of the situation. The poor girl may have been brave and ballsy up to this point, but even he was afraid of what they had landed on. “I know…I know. Shhh..shh…come on.” She couldn’t get his name out, just the repeated M’s again. But it was the smattering of tears that showed that this was just too much for her to take in. Perhaps leaving that room wasn’t such a good idea after all.
Michael’s own body was now shaking. Most likely a mix of pain and shock, but he tried his best to soothe the girl’s mind as he continued to drag her to the other wall, as far from the body as he could get her. His right shoulder was now lopsided from his left, and while he wanted nothing more than to bang his shoulder back into place, he instead tried to comfort Claire.
“It’s…just a dead body. Can’t bite you.”
She’s too much in shock, that she doesn’t mind that Michael dragged her out of there. Away from that terror. She braced herself, calming the thumping heart inside her chest but the tears won’t stop. She clenched her fists on her now surely stained with blood light dress. That’s the first time she noticed why she was cold, with this light dress, anyone would freeze in this place.
“It’s…just a dead body. Can’t bite you.” She knew what he meant and knew he was right. She looked at him, sniffing. “I’m cold…” she answered, rubbing her hands together. Now she knows, he’s not a bad guy actually he’s being considerate, even when she’s nothing but rude.
The bite had gone out of Claire’s voice. She like he was genuinely scared of the position that they both found themselves in. As reality started to set in, that they were now in a dark hallway with what was a dead body, and no real lighting or sign of anyone else, Michael’s mind started to come to a very dramatic conclusion of where they were and what had happened. Piecing together the fact that they had been in a barricaded room, isolated from the outside – then something had happened to warrant them being put there. Though by whom and why, remained a mystery. Both of them had wounds and injuries that aside from his now dislocated shoulder, could not be explained, or even remembered. All they knew was their own names…their first names. But was that really who they were?
Why was a dead body outside the door to the darkened room? How long had it been there? And most importantly, who locked them away?
Hearing Claire say she was cold, Michael tried to pull her closer to him. Thinking that maybe his own body heat might help warm her just enough to help her, but at the same time, he knew that they couldn’t stay in this place. They needed to get out. They needed a plan.
She flinched a little when Michael held her. Now having him closer, she could smell him. Aside from sweat, there is something more like a medicine. She know somewhere inside her, how medicine and chemical smell like. There is something with their smell, that makes her want to puke. She gently pushed him away “You don’t need to go that far. But thanks anyway…” She wiped the strands of her hair and tears off her face. Now looking at Michael, “Did you fell into something earlier? or knocked over? Like a liquid medicine or something like that?” She asked with inquiring eyes
Michael’s attempt to help keep Claire warm only had her react as though he was trying something on. Like…that was the last thing on his mind right now. He rolled his eyes as she pushed herself away from him, and let out a sigh. Still feeling pain in nearly every part of his body. It was his shoulder that was really doing him harm though. Until it was popped back in his socket, he was enduring pain on the scale of 11/10. With her now off him to a degree, Michael pushed himself up awkwardly to standing, and then looked at either wall, to see which looked like it could take the force of his weight, when he tried to slam his shoulder back in. While he was sizing up a run, Claire had to ask something that was so out there, that it had him stop and think for a moment.
“Did you fell into something earlier? or knocked over? Like a liquid medicine or something like that?”
“I ran into the door, holding you. The only thing I can see that I might have rolled in was the blood of the dead guy.” Maybe his sense of smell was a bit out of whack, or he was too busy trying to deal with the pain he was in. Shaking his head, he went back to focusing on the wall. The thought of hitting it in the charge was making him nervous and he couldn’t deal with Claire’s questions on top of everything. With a loud roar, he charged the wall, and you could hear the sickening crunch then pop as his shoulder was slammed back into place. The pain….he couldn’t begin to explain, but there was a sweet relief that his shoulder was back where it should be. Leaning with perspiration running off his forehead, he wheezed as the strike took a lot out of him.
Placing an opened palm on the wall, he pushed himself away from the wall, leaving behind a purplish streak of a hand print. Was this the medicine that she inquired about?
“I ran into the door, holding you. The only thing I can see that I might have rolled in was the blood of the dead guy.”
“No..think care-” before she could finish her sentence, Michael started running like a wild dog, towards what she lately known to be a wall just after the collision. After hearing like a crack sound, she pushed herself up. Running towards him, grabbing his arm (unfortunately the one which was just brought back together) “Are you out of your mind?!” She exclaimed almost biting her tongue. “What are you doing! What if you lost conscious here? That can’t happen..” she stopped before she could say her next words. That she would be scared without his active presence.
“ACK! LET GO OF MY ARM!”
Claire had to grab a hold of Michael’s arm, the one that was attached to the shoulder he just rammed back into its socket. His voice was shrill, as he tried to get her to let go. He knew what he was doing, trying to put it back in place, and he thought that her reaction was way over the top. Siting that the last thing she needed was for him to lose consciousness. Michael stared at her, wide eyed. Surely she understood that he couldn’t walk around with his arm hanging by a thread.
“I was fixing myself. This isn’t the first time I’ve popped it.”
A look washed over Michael’s face, as he said something that you would class as a memory. How he knew that, and nothing else made him feel uncomfortable. You could see the confusion in his eyes, as he tried to make sense of it all. Wiping his hand down the side of his shirt, he then looked left and right, trying to determine which way to go. They simply couldn’t stay here. Michael knew that there had to be a way to get out of this strange building and to find help.
“ACK! LET GO OF MY ARM!”
She quickly let go, quite surprised with his reaction. She looked away, when he stared at her. “I was fixing myself. This isn’t the first time I’ve popped it.” She didn’t know, how would she know. He do things just as he wanted to, and there he hurt himself by doing so, and now she’s at fault for actually caring? “You should have asked for my help. I know I can do that…At least the pain won’t be that so painful..” she muttered. When she looked back at him, she saw the purplish stains on his clothes. “Stop…don’t move…”she said with her hand halfway to the slightly scattered stains on his clothes.
Claire probably found Michael’s way of dealing with his own problems a bit much. For example, he tried to help her for the most part from the time that they woke up in the darkened room, but she gave him so much lip that his good intentions were being stomped on. He wasn’t a bad guy, quite the opposite. Just as much in the dark as she was about everything that had happened to them before they woke up. His overreaction to her touching his arm was like a knee jerk reaction, and not meant to upset her. He listened to her apologize, if you could call it that and then she must have seen something that caught her attention. Like a total derailment from the issue with his arm.
Claire moved her hand towards his shirt, and when Michael looked down, he then noticed the purplish stain that was on his shirt. It was the exact place where he wiped his hand. This caused him to raise his hand, and then it became clear that he must have placed his hand in some sort of liquid that was not blood at all. It didn’t smell like blood, or have the same coloring.
“What the hell is this?”
He turned over his wrist to see if it was on the back of his hand as well.
“You know how I thought that this…might be some sort of hospital?” Michael started. “I think it is. Or was.”
Michael then saw a colored number sign on the wall. It was a green three. So this must be the third floor. Michael then put his soiled hand up to Claire’s face.
“What does it smell like to you?”
“What the hell is this?”
That’s what she wanted to know too. It obviously doesn’t seem like blood, is it what she smelled before? Medicine? What type of medicine would that be? She thought still looking at the stains.
“You know how I thought that this…might be some sort of hospital?”
“I think it is. Or was.”
Now, with the circumstances maybe he’s right and it’s stupid of her to made fun of his theory before. Still, her attention on the stains on his clothes. Then she snapped, as he put his hand almost inches away from her face.
“What does it smell like to you?”
“God! You don’t really listen! I just told you not to move and you kept on moving…” She exclaimed, now she sounds like a mother who kept on nagging her son about not being obedient. “What do you think of me some animal?” She murmured, almost pouting. “Now, I’ll hold your hand, Okay? Try not to make me kick you if you try that reaction earlier again with me…” She said, “Understood?” she asked.
Michael’s face fell when Claire sounded off at him….again. It was just like when they had been in the darkened room at the beginning of this nightmare. By offering up his hand for her to smell, he was doing so to see if she could give him a clue as to what it was he had on it. But she yelled at him, her voice like that of a nagging mother to her son. It really wasn’t very nice. In fact, Michael cringed and his shoulders lowered just a touch. She begged the question that he considered her to be some kind of animal. That was the furthest idea from his mind. “No.” He answered, looking a bit upset that she’d even suggest it. She told him point blank that she was holding his hand from here on out. Michael wasn’t a kid, but he was starting to feel like one. Should he just give in and let her take charge? For now at least, he’d concede defeat.
She sighed, and gently held his hand. “What if it’s poison? you have too many open wounds…and you just carelessly scattered the liquid on your hand like this” She said carefully leaned her head towards his hand. “I just met you moments ago, but you’re all I have for now, I don’t want you dying stupidly like that” She added, then started sniffing. She stopped for a moment, surprised that she clearly remembers that smell. From before, she’s not sure but knew that scent was familiar and now that she could smell it clearly, she’ knows for sure what that liquid was. “Dermabond.” she said. “It’s dermabond…” she chuckled foolishly being over cautious over nothing serious.
“It’s derma what?”
Michael had no idea what dermabond was. But from the reaction that Claire was experiencing, it wasn’t the dangerous substance that she thought it could have been at first. The young male continued to look puzzled, but he wasn’t about to raise his hand again, since Claire was liable to go off the deep end.
“So I can’t die from it. That’s reassuring, I guess.” Michael was starting to think that the dermabond was the last thing that they really needed to worry about. He exhaled loudly, before looking down at her once again. When she mentioned that while she didn’t know him well, he was really all she had as there was no sign of anything or anyone living in the building they were in.
“It’s derma what?”
“So I can’t die from it. That’s reassuring, I guess.”
“Yes you can’t. It’s Dermabond, a kind of wound closing medicine. I think you need to really, scatter that on your arms. I see some wounds there…” She said. “You see…I think I’m starting to regain a bit of my memory. I really know that scent, as in knew it. Maybe I’m a doctor’s daughter or a pharmacist’s? or maybe I was dead sick just before this happened and been in the hospital?…and was left here to die…” she said, embracing the idea that they are in a hospital building. She suddenly started to get a little depressed. She doesn’t know if she likes to even remember what she had forgotten, maybe this thing happening was her way out of her maybe sympathetic life. “Well…at least they left you too with me…I’m not completely alone” she said with a faint smile.
“I knew that.” Michael made a face like he was trying to cover up the fact that he didn’t really know what dermabond was. But by the sounds of it, this purplish gunk was actually helpful. Looking at his arms now, he could see that there were cut like abrasions, and he started to slap his wet hand up and down his arm, before smacking his hands together and then rubbing it into the other arm (which was still sore). Claire might have said not to let go of her hand, but considering that he was actually wearing something helpful to him, he might as well put it to good use. As he went about his self medicating, Claire spoke about how she felt that due to knowing the smell and recognizing the ointment then maybe she was getting a little bit of her memory back. But that is the funny thing about memories. Some things like certain smells, or tastes can invoke reactions that may give you only a puzzle piece of the full picture. And when you look at just that one piece out of say…a thousand, you really can’t see what it what it all is.
As much as he didn’t want to burst her bubble, at her thoughts about their current situation, but he was starting to wonder about the whole being left here with a purpose. Like why were they left in a locked room? And how long had they been there? Were they left there to die?
Claire’s only consolation was the fact that she was not alone. The problem was she didn’t know anything about Michael, just as he didn’t even know himself. What was to say he was a good guy? What if…their memories were erased on purpose?
“Instead of guessing who you might be, or why you are here with me; perhaps we should go look and work out exactly where we are first. You may not like what you find.” Michael was trying to be realistic about where they stood.
“Instead of guessing who you might be, or why you are here with me; perhaps we should go look and work out exactly where we are first. You may not like what you find.”
She knows that. Guessing won’t help, but it makes her feel less lost and scared trying to figure out…guessing who and what kind of person she is. Even if it would turn out to be wrong, it’s better than nothing. “I know that…” she answered, now feeling like she was being stupid. She worked her way to what she can tell is a window, but tried not to stray away from Michael. She thought for a moment staring, if the windows are painted, or covered somehow. She wiped it with her hand, but she still can’t see anything through the window. “What the-” she muttered and try wiping it again. “Michael come here..” she called him. “It’s the same, it’s dark outside. If it’s night there should be at least a street light out there, but I can’t see a thing.” she added.
It was almost like, they would answer each other in defense. Not being totally honest to save face perhaps, or to stop from feeling stupid. They hadn’t really gotten off to the best of starts, and it was plain that some of the behaviors that each exhibited rubbed off on the other. But if they were to find out what happened, and who they really were, then they were going to have to work together, and put all differences aside. Michael was trying to roll his shoulder and get his muscles working properly, as Claire wandered over to what was a window. This was probably the furtherest distance they had been apart so far, and of course what she discovered was that the world beyond the window was pitch black. No house lights, no car lights, no street lights. Ambling over, Michael peered through the window, scrunching up his face as he tried to make out shapes in the dark. It was as though there was a massive power black out. The kind when there is a serious storm, or simple government power shedding. But given the lack of people…or signs of life, Michael was starting to get a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. Drawing back from the window he said.
“I don’t like the look of this.”
He turned to face her, his face turning pale. “What if….there is no one else out there?”