Simon hit the dead thing's chest a few more times, but the last time was more a reaction to the pain his chest and stomach than to his own anger. This should have worked. Two brilliant doctors created this gorram cure, it should have worked.
"It doesn't matter." His breathing was labored, and his senses were off. He hadn't noticed the change in skin coloration, or the warming of the body. He couldn't focus on more than the anger and the growing despair. Anger,or maybe it was another seizure, gave him the power to hit the chest one more time; either way, the doctor went down, and the "dead thing" gasped for air.
Yeah, some people went fast, some went slow. Simon appeared to be going pretty damn fast.