P.S.I. Private Supernatural Investigators Book 3: Condemned Souls

Chapter 21: The Friendly Zombie

Butch ran throughout the ward, calling Scarlet's name. She though would not answer which made him worry. Was his partner okay? He hoped that Scarlet was no where bleeding out from being attacked.
      As Butch came to the medical room, he saw his partner, sitting on the floor. Knelt down in front of her was a zombie. She looks up to her left to see Butch.
      "Butch," Scarlet replies with relief.
      "Get away from her, you filthy zombie!" in warning he shouts.
      The zombie backs off of her in startle at Butch. He kneels down beside his partner defending her.
      "You stay back!" Butch spoke with a firm voice. "I know what you're weakness is now!"
      "Butch! It's okay!" asurring him she speaks up. "He was helping me!"
      Hearing the last part caused him to quickly look to Scarlet with worry. She lifted the cloth to show her huge cut on her leg that was bleeding.
      "Oh, no," he responds with concern. Butch quickly applies pressure on her leg. "Do you feel okay?"
      "I just cut my leg accidentally on a tool that was sticking out from a drower," assures Scarlet. "I've lost quit a bit of blood. I'll be fine though."
      "You look a little faint," he confides. "Keep your eyes open, Scarlet. Stay with me!"
      She smiles at his worrisome. "I'll be fine," echoes Scarlet. "That zombie...he saved me from the one that about killed me."
      Butch then looks to see the dead zombie on the floor. He glances at the other zombie who continued staying back like told. Butch narrows his eyes realizing that the zombie was obeying.
      "Is he the..."
      "...eleventh one," she finishes for him. "Yes, he is," smiling Scarlet confirms.
      She suddenly groans with pain which he looks at her.
      "It's okay, Scarlet," Butch soothes. "I'm here." He sighs with a shameful expression. "I'm so sorry. I didn't realize you were no longer following me. Oooh, this is Syrina all over again."
      "It's all right, Butch," smiling Scarlet assures.
      Suddenly, the zombie hobbled to them with something in his mouth. It was a first aid box. He placed the first aid box down on the floor before backing away again. Butch stares at the zombie with awe.
      "He is helping me with your condition," he responds stunned.
      "I told you he was friendly," smiling again she replies.
      Butch smiles at his partner with admiring eyes. They then look at the zombie who continued keeping his distance.
      "Who are you?" Scarlet repeats the question from earlier.
      "Why don't we name him Gollum," suggesting he says.
      "Why name him from a Lord of the Rings movie?" she asks, her energetic mood returning. "He does have a name like the others."
      "Why not call him Gollum?" queries Butch. "He hobbles around on his hands and feet, plus he is barely warring anything but, that ratty cloth around his waist."
      Just then, the zombie reaches to the blood on the floor. They watch him with intriugeness of what he was going to do. The zombie began to inscribe something on the floor with the finger of blood. Once finished, he stepped back looking at them.
      "He wrote something," he observes as he takes a look.
      Writen on the floor was sloppy but readable words.
      "I...am...Jerald," reads off Scarlet. She looks up at the zombie. "You are the one who is Jerald!" she acknowledges.
      "Is it true what the police records say?" begun asking Butch with curiosity. "Did you kill your partner?"
      Jerald dipped his finger in the blood again. He found another clear space and wrote an answer down. Jerald then stepped back once again.
      "Yes and no," he read off. "What does that mean?" confused Butch says.
      Jerald once again wrote an answer on a clear space.
      "Yes, I killed my partner," reading off Scarlet replies. "No, I did not want to do it. He was bleeding out which he asked me to do so."
      "He must have been bleeding out too much that he was dying slowly," he assumes, "so he figured if Jerald shot him, he'd die quicker."
      She looks at her partner who gave her a sympathetic expression. Scarlet then looks at Jerald.
      "I'm so sorry, Jerald," with sinser she says. "That had to have been hard for you to do?"
      Jerald made the gurgling sound while nodding his head. Even though you could not see emotion in his eyes, Scarlet knew he was solemn. He then wrote something else.
      "He was my best friend."
      "I'm sorry, man," apologises Butch with empathy. "I can't image having to kill my friend because he was bleeding out."
      Jerald hobbled over to her which he places a hand on her other leg. It felt cold like it was dead. Even though half-dead, the zombie had feelings.
      "I think the reason why Jerald is different from the rest," she began to explain, "is because he is surpressing the urge to kill like the other zombies."
      Butch nods his head agreeing with Scarlet.
      "That would be the reason why he was eating that raw meat from my trash can."
      "He finds his source of organs elsewhere," understanding he speaks up. "At least we don't need to worry about him."
      "You said you know the weakness to the zombies," she says remembering earlier. "What is it?"
      Butch brought out the cigarette lighter. He then flipped it open which the tiny flame flickered. Jerald begun backing away in fear to see the flame. Butch then flipped the lid back over which Jerald began to approach slowly to them again.
      "Zombies hate fire," smiling Butch responds proud of himself.
      "Probably because of the fact that the flames burn their rotting skin quicker than a human," Scarlet guesses.
      "I poured gasoline on the floor," with a smile he explains, "and threw this lighter at it. When the gasoline burst into flames, boy did those zombies made a run for it."
      "At least we know there weakness now," she comments.