At first, he's far too shaken and upset to follow after Ned, but after a few moments, he hurries after him, going wherever Ned leads him, not questioning Ned's desire to get away. He wants to get away, too, doesn't want to be anywhere near that body, whether it's alive or dead or the living dead or any combination thereof. He's seen pictures of dead bodies, too many pictures, but he can't recall ever seeing one in real life. If he had, it had been a long, long time ago.
There's an instinct to get to a phone as quickly as he can, to call the police, to call an ambulance, to do something, but he could tell just from looking at the woman that she was long beyond any help an ambulance could provide, and the police can wait for a little while longer, until he fully comprehends just what's happened, and just what Ned's done.
None of it makes sense. He can't add it all up in his head, and while he normally embraces things that are illogical, he's completely incapable of doing so right now. So he sits down on the bench next to Ned, once he reaches it, and he puts a very tentative hand on his shoulder. No hugs, not yet, because he doesn't think Ned can take it, not from the expression on his face, not from the way he's shaking. It's obvious that Ned is fighting disgust and fear and panic, and he doesn't want to demand answers, doesn't want to push him, but at the same time, he needs someone to explain what he'd just seen.
"That wasn't supposed to happen," he repeats, because that sentence doesn't make any sense to him, either. "Okay, that wasn't supposed to happen, but what was that? I mean, it looked like... I mean, you know what it looked like. You obviously understand something I don't, and I'm starting to think maybe I'm crazy, because it looked to me like a dead person just became undead and then dead again and I don't know how that happens."
no subject
There's an instinct to get to a phone as quickly as he can, to call the police, to call an ambulance, to do something, but he could tell just from looking at the woman that she was long beyond any help an ambulance could provide, and the police can wait for a little while longer, until he fully comprehends just what's happened, and just what Ned's done.
None of it makes sense. He can't add it all up in his head, and while he normally embraces things that are illogical, he's completely incapable of doing so right now. So he sits down on the bench next to Ned, once he reaches it, and he puts a very tentative hand on his shoulder. No hugs, not yet, because he doesn't think Ned can take it, not from the expression on his face, not from the way he's shaking. It's obvious that Ned is fighting disgust and fear and panic, and he doesn't want to demand answers, doesn't want to push him, but at the same time, he needs someone to explain what he'd just seen.
"That wasn't supposed to happen," he repeats, because that sentence doesn't make any sense to him, either. "Okay, that wasn't supposed to happen, but what was that? I mean, it looked like... I mean, you know what it looked like. You obviously understand something I don't, and I'm starting to think maybe I'm crazy, because it looked to me like a dead person just became undead and then dead again and I don't know how that happens."