Blood

Cloud can smell it on his face; he's wearing Zack's blood like war paint. The memory replays of his nose buried in bullet holes and mangled flesh an inch from his eyes. Close-up of a human body turned to meat. Feeling Zack's blood stick and come away with him when he rises. It shouldn't! It belongs in Zack! The mud they sat in seemed more blood than dirt, the rotting metallic scent rising from his trousers too. Zack's body lies on the cliff where he fell, but Cloud thinks he's wearing much of it. Wearing Zack like a second skin.