{Complete} Love is infectious ~ Tweek x Craig / Craig of the Dead fan fiction

19

Once she finishes with Tweek, Porsche cleans up everybody else. She goes through three packs of cotton pads due to the amount of blood we've got on us, but she doesn't complain.

"There we go! I'm finished," She announces, dropping the final bloody cotton pad into the trash after wiping up some blood from Tricia's temple, "your wounds will probably become scars over time, but there's nothing we can do about that. Just make sure to keep your bandages clean. Come back if you need anything else."

Tweek, on his crutches, struggles to leave. Since he has to use his arms to move instead of his left leg, it puts pressure on his damaged arm and causes pain.

"This is s-stupid." He mutters, having only taken three steps out of the door on his own.

"The exit isn't too far from here," Wendyl tells him in a hushed voice, "I'm sure Craig could carry you or something."

Tweek's cheeks redden at the suggestion, but he doesn't protest. He hands his crutches to Wendyl and puts his good arm over my shoulder.
I pick him up bridal style, but I have to keep his left leg completely straight which is difficult. It's also painful for me because of my broken fingers, but there isn't much I can do since I'm probably the only one who can carry him since he's too tall for anyone else.

"I could get used t-to this." Tweek grins.

"Well don't. You're fucking heavy."

"Guys, quit your bickering otherwise they'll hear us. We have to leave this place quietly!" Wendyl hisses.

I roll my eyes and try not to drop Tweek.

Wendyl leads us through to a large garage looking place which is full of vehicles. There's cars, trucks, even a minibus!
If I had to choose a vehicle to steal it would be the minibus since it can fit us all on and for some reason I just love riding in minibuses for school trips and stuff.

There's only a few people in here, excluding us, and they don't notice us as we all rush to hide behind a large stack of tires.
Everybody but me crouches on the floor to avoid being seen. I keep standing up because I don't want to hurt Tweek or anything.

"What are we taking?" Kyle asks.

"Minibus?" I suggest.

"Can you even drive a minibus?" Kyle raises an eyebrow.

"It can't be that different from a car, can it?"

"Hurry up and choose, someone's coming over!" Stan whispers.

"Minibus it is then." I decide.

Kyle rolls his eyes, but doesn't suggest anything else.

"Sit! Sit, for crying out loud!" Someone is shouting, "dumb dog."

Stan suddenly jumps to his feet and peeks over the stack of tires. He gasps.

"It's Sparky!"

"Sparky?" Kyle scrambles to his feet and tries to look over the tires too, but he is too short.

"What's sparky?" I ask.

"My dog," Stan replies, standing on his tip-toes to get a proper look, "it's him, Ky, it's really him!"

Kyle gasps and asks Stan for a leg-up, which Stan gives him. He spots the dog and grins from ear to ear in delight.

"Wendyl, we have time to get him, right?" Stan asks excitedly.

"I don't know, Stan, we really need to get the minibus before -"

"Please, babe! You know I love Sparky with all of my heart!" Stan begs.

Wendyl sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Fine. But if we get killed I am going to be so pissed off!" He crosses his arms and glares at Stan.

Stan grabs Wendyl by the waist and swoops him off his feet, attacking him with kisses and thanks.

"Put me down, put me down!" He whisper-shouts, punching his back repeatedly until he is put down.

Kyle tackles Wendyl with a hug the second he is released and falls victim to back punches.

"You're lucky I love you." Wendyl grunts in annoyance.

Stan grabs the tranquilliser gun and positions himself on the edge of the wall of tires we're hiding behind. He waits for the perfect moment, then pulls the trigger and strikes the closest guard in the neck.

The guard touches his neck in confusion, but falls to the floor within seconds, knocked out. Sparky backs away from his body, growling.

"What the hell is going on?" A nearby guard asks herself, walking over to Sparky and the body.

Stan pulls the trigger again and a dart lands in her right forearm.

"Ouch! Hey, who's over there?" She demands, turning in our direction, "I can see your head, get ov... get over..."

She trails off as she collapses, hitting the floor with a loud thud. Sparky begins barking loudly which attracts the attention of the final guard.

He looks over in confusion, but doesn't move any closer. He's not close enough for Stan to shoot.

"Someone make some kind of noise. Make him get over here." Stan orders.

Tricia get to her feet, takes a deep breath and then lets out the loudest blood curdling scream I've ever heard. The guard jumps in surprise and drops his tools.

"I-is someone over there?" He asks nervously, starting to slowly inch closer, "Are you hurt?"

"Should I do it again?" Tricia whispers.

I shake my head. She shrugs and sits back down.

The guard is close enough for Stan now, but he doesn't shoot right away. Instead he waits until he's close enough for us to hear him whimpering and see him shaking in fear, then pulls the trigger.

"Ow!" The guy exclaims, "w-who's there? Come out, y-you're going to be in a lot of trouble."

He drops to the floor in seconds, scaring Sparky again.

Stan drops the tranquilliser gun and runs out from the hiding spot.

"Sparky! It's me, Stan!" He drops to his knees a foot away from the dog and holds his hand out. Sparky smells his hand curiously, then jumps into Stan's arms upon realising who he is, "you remember me! I missed you so much, Spark..."

"Save the reunion for later, we have to get out of here!" Wendyl reminds him.

Stan picks up Sparky and returns to the hiding spot. Since he's a large dog, Stan struggles a bit, but he's got the most muscles out of all of us so I'm sure he'll manage.

"We're going to take the minibus. It's got the most space and would probably save time, but the keys are in a locked cabinet in the store room so someone needs to get them." Wendyl points to a door on the other side of the garage.

"I'll go," Butters offers, "I'm a quick runner so I'll be there and back in no time."

"Fine. But be quick, we don't have much time left. Tricia's scream was unnecessarily loud so someone is going to be sent to investigate," Wendyl glares at Tricia, who awkwardly scratches the back of her neck, "radio us if you need any help."

Butters hands his backpack to Kenny, then darts across the garage to the store room. The door is unlocked, so he gets in with no hassle.

"Okay so bad news," Butters says over the walkie-talkie, "there's a glass cabinet full of keys. They're all unlabelled and the cabinet is locked. Over."

"Crap. Can you pick the lock?" Wendyl asks him.

Butters is quiet for a moment.

"No, but I've got another idea."

A few seconds later, we hear a loud smash and then an alarm sets off. Butters runs out of the store room, holding at least fifteen keys.