Craig of the Dead

27. Two Bros, Chillin in a Nurse's Office...

"OHHHH! OHHHH! THAT LITTLE SON OF A BITCH!" Kyle exploded, looking at himself in the small hand-held mirror. "Look at this! Stan, just look at this!"

"Damn, does he get off on this kinda stuff?" I said, staring at the big black letters scribbled on Kyle's forehead. Jew. Actually, I had cleaned his face off first, so the writing had been visible for a while, but he had just noticed it. He also had a crude drawing of what looked like his mother on his back, but he apparently hadn't seen that either, and I sure wasn't gonna be the one to tell him about that.

Right after I left Craig and Tweek, I had taken Kyle straight here. The nurse's office had a ton of bandages and pain relievers, which was good, because Kyle needed some kind of medical help. And unlike last time, I sure wasn't hesitating simply because I didn't know a lot about this kinda stuff. Luckily, I found some guides underneath the sink, so I was able to put the right cream on what cuts, and what pills were to stop vomiting.

So far, the only people to see him had been Craig and me. Even though he had never said anything aloud about it, I had a feeling Kyle would rather his torment be kept on the down-low. Although now that he had finished cleaning off his entire body, he was looking much better. He must have taken a visit to the locker room showers.

"This is ridiculous." He muttered, his face red with rage as he spit on his hand, furiously scrubbing at his forehead in an attempt to erase the word off his skin.

"It's probably just sharpie or something. It'll come off eventually. It sucks, but you're just gonna have to ignore it, or get over it."

"I know, but that's not gonna stop me from being pissed now." He said through his teeth, glaring at me with his emerald eyes. There was a quick moment of silence, and in that moment I saw Kyle slowly diffuse his anger. Or at least, put it away for later. That was one of the things I loved about him. Sure, he was quick to anger, but he always tried to save it for the person who deserved it. Man, I can't wait to see Kyle go crazy on Cartman.

"What's with the dopy grin?" He asked, sitting up on the table, holding the towel that was wrapped around his waist in place. The thin sheet of paper crinkled underneath him as he turned to face me.

"Ah, no reason in particular. Just life, ya know?" I mumbled, staring at him. He raised an eyebrow at me, mimicking Kenny's signature move.

"How life's going right now, that's making you smile? Now who's delirious?"

"Dude, we're all delirious. I've no idea what the actual fuck has been happening ever since the zombies showed up. I've really just been wandering around, bumping into situations along the way."

"Don't worry, Stan. I've been the exact same way. I mean, shit dude..." He sighed and rubbed his eyes, giving an exasperated laugh, "Literal zombies that want to eat us.  I know we've seen weirder things, but still, usually they don't have serious lasting effects."

"That's true." I mused. I could even remember a zombie attack before this, but the similarities stopped there. It had only lasted a night, and everything went back the way it was afterwards. Not like this.

"It's just I was so useless in the attack, ya know? I didn't do anything." He muttered. "Except for be pitiful."

"Kyle, you can't be so hard on yourself. You did a lot."

"Really? Like what? Oh also, can you hand me the scissors?" He pointed to the tiny pair of medical scissors resting on the countertop.

"Sure..." I said, leaning over to grab the tool for him. "But why the hell do you need scissors? Didn't that book say to keep the bandages on for a while? You shouldn't cut them off yet, it said to wait." He had some Band-Aids and bandages wrapped around his wrists, which had been one of the worst parts because the bike chain had been wound was too tight.