Frank sat in a chair at his home as he looked at the another man, one who had a digital camcorder.
"Just tell us your story," the man said.
Frank took a sip of water. "Alright, but you'd best listen carefully, for this is the whole truth, my story."
The cameraman nodded. "Go on."
"My name's Frank West. I broke the story on Willamette Colorado, and was infected during the process. I won't say if I was at the Las Vegas Outbreak, or any of the other Outbreak Sites, but let me get one thing straight- I was at the Fortune City incident. Now, I didn't break the story there, Chuck Greene did that- he even helped me out at the Phenotran facility, exposing what's been going on there, and what they actually make the Zombrex with, and that's why I've been helping to try and clear Chuck's name."
Frank's watch starts to beep. "One moment- time for that damn shot again."
He takes out what looks to be an EpiPen, and jabs it into his neck. "That's better," Frank said as he rubbed the injection site. "I hate taking these things, especially considering what goes into making them. I wish the Cure was real, and readily available, but my one friend, who knows how to make it, is being held captive by the company that makes this stuff. Damn how I wish I could nail all of them to the wall."
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