Extreme

7. Heart To Heart

Millions of zombies died the night of their rising. Millions became only a few hundreds, many continuing to die everyday by the hands of humanity.

But, no one would listen, accept and reflect.

The protest Francis held the day before was just a brief reveal of what humanity really was. They didn't even consider their actions, only speaking of their hatred rather than in a civil, debating manner.

His organisation was going to save the world. Save humanity. Could they not see? Did they truely not care?

Should I burn the world after all? He wondered, his breath stopping a bit as everything came together.

He had an idea.

Francis knew of a creation no man had ever dared try, never even believing it to be possible. But he knew, with his father before him. It was monstrous he knew, but it was likely the only way...

No, he shook his head, trying to clear his mind from the ruthless idea. It'll be hypocritical of me.

He looked down at the papers before him, seeing the scratched idea written on the papers. Already, he had plans with it. Only now, he was wondering if he should actually consider it. Take it to the next level, perhaps.

But again, the hypocrisy would be stinging him like a bee.

Francis let out a frustrated sigh, tearing up the papers and throwing them into the trash down beside his chair. His organisation was a small one, with all working for him living in the biggest hospital of the city.

Actually, small might of been an understatement.

The hospital consisted of people recovering from the infection. With little knowledge, their treatments were risky to take, but better than the infection taking over their bodies until they craved blood and mushy brains.

He hoped one day he and the scientists he had testing the treatments would finally find the cure. And only then would humanity listen to him.

All he needed was people with knowledge of things relating to the infection. But unfortunately, no one with the knowledge has been willing to join with him and see the cruel truth with open eyes.

Before Francis was about to go and check up on the testing of the antidotes, someone knocked on his door. He looked up and called out for the visitor to come in.

They were Liam, who entered in with a concerned expression.

"What's the matter?" Francis asked him with worry, sitting up from his desk to come to him.

"Last night, a soldier left, killing a man on his way," Liam told him.

Francis looked at him, brows crossing. "Who?" He asked, angry at whoever dared to leave.

Soldiers were always at the sides of the hospital, guarding it from any one who would find the place. Anybody who would dare come close would get a shot in the head. But he never thought one would get up and leave just like that.

Did this man not swore an oath to protect all healing citizens inside?

"I don't know yet. I only just found out a few minutes ago. I wanted to tell you as quick as possible," Liam answered.

"Well, when they figure what's going on, I'll go down there and see what I can do," Francis said, sighing to himself.

Liam nodded his head, looking down at the floor silently. "Oh, and...there's something else..." He hesitantly began.

Why does something always go wrong for me? Francis wondered with another sigh, frustrated at everything. He awaited for the bad news.

"Gary Reed is going to die soon from the fail of his recovery. The antidote wasn't as successful as you thought," Liam told him, looking up at him with pity.