Death After Death (#2)

Chapter Five

Joey's eyes flicked open, like the speedy lens on a camera. Only, these eyes had not spent a lifetime collecting beautiful and nostalgic images; they had seen some of the darkest sights imaginable.

He wiped the sweat from his forehead and took a few deep breaths, silently assuring himself that it was just a dream. Those clickers couldn't hurt him anymore. He survived.

He ran his fingers across his face, wincing slightly at every scar and stitch they ran along. This wasn't because they were painful, he just despised what he had become. He was a freak. A gruesome patchwork quilt stitched together by Frankenstein himself.

The deep wounds were rough and uneven to touch, like the undulating sand dunes of a desert. The blemishes on his skin mirrored those underneath the surface. He had to relive that harrowing experience every single night, and would forever be haunted by his own very existence.

Joey shuddered one final time, almost feeling the cuts reopen with the slightest movement. In reality, the doctors had fixed him up expertly. After Saunders and his companion had rescued him and taken him to a nearby hospital, they operated immediately.

It appeared they had come to a similar understanding to him and Max, as they replaced his lost blood with donated AB negative.

Saunders later explained that if Joey had escaped turning into a clicker even after all those bites, he had to be immune.

Unfortunately, the doctors were still unable to find a cure.

As soon as Joey had recovered, he swore to himself that he'd finish what he and Max had started. He would help find that cure, but it was no longer for purely selfless reasons.

That first look in the mirror after his operation changed him. He no longer believed that every life was sacred. How could he, when he was stood facing a monster? How was this fair? No, he swore to himself that he would build an army of followers, help find a cure, and rise to power in the new world.

He'd always lived his life by a moral code, and look where it had gotten him. Good things came to those who took them, and it was his turn to take.

He slipped into some loose clothes, keeping his chin up as he did so, to avoid the sickening sight of his own scarred body.

He had limited hot water and electricity here, thanks to the clever people he had surrounded himself with, but he had business to tend to.

He made his way to the lab, the harsh, cold stone against his feet reminding him that he was alive. He enjoyed those subtle feelings now.

"Any news" he asked authoritatively as he entered the room.

Despite an old, rustic appearance, the lab was kitted out with the most state of the art equipment, all powered by a series of generators. The gentle whirr of electricity and the light bleeping of monitors filled the air.

"Nothing new since yesterday I'm afraid," Doctor Saunders replied, tending to a few vials of samples.

Joey paused, staring across at Saunders, almost looking disappointed.

"Sir," the Doctor added.

Joey's lust for power worsened by the day.

"But you're still close?" he asked impatiently.

"I don't know if close is the word Sir, but these are the most promising samples we've seen since this all started."

"How long will this take?" Joey seethed.

"I'm afraid I just can't say! But me and my team are working as fast as we can, if you'll just give us more time, please Sir," Doctor Saunders pleaded.