A/N:
His Little LabRat: Hey, guys! I really hope you enjoy this fic. It's a collaboration between myself (obviously) and Truthless Faith. We're both really psyched about it, so (for once) we'll actually finish it! I really hope you all enjoy it as much as we did writing it ~
Truthless Faith: First off, if it wasn't for His Little LabRat this story wouldn't even be off the ground. I gave them my idea, we brainstormed, we popped this out. Hard work and interesting conversations about this and we got the plot. LabRat posts it on their account instead of mine. Why? Because, it doesn't really matter. Enjoy the story~

-

- - -

-

"All I want is some fucking Cheesy Poofs. I don't give a shit about anything else."

Cartman scooted down the aisles of the grocery store, a Glock handgun stuffed into a holster at his side that was occasionally tapped by the strap of the AK-47 hooked over his back. His fingers grazed over every box and can they passed as his eyes flitted over everything they could set their sights of. Two boys followed behind him a moment, then paused and looking down the aisle at Cartman as the brunet took more into a half-jog, the gun on his back shifting awkwardly as he did so.

"He's so fucking set on finding those goddamn Cheesy Poofs, isn't he?" The redheaded one asked quietly, looking to the boy with darker hair, who smiled at him, baring his teeth slightly and rolled his blue eyes.

"Typical fatass, what the hell would you expect?" He laughed in a whisper, looking back at the redhead.

"Not much more than this," he says, raising his hand and pointing over his shoulder with his thumb back at the brunet, who cursed as he switched sides in the aisle. Stan grinned and laughed, clapping Kyle over the shoulder softly.

"Be nice, dude." Kyle just shrugged and started down, eyes splaying across the signs that hung above the middle of the aisles, his M14 rifle swinging slightly as he walked along, the barrel swishing side to side over his shoulder, the hilt in his hand. "Hey, Kyle!" The redhead turned around and blinked at him. "Be careful, okay?" He said it in a small whisper. Kyle nodded and gave him a thumbs up, the symbol of 'okay' from the get-go. Kyle turned back around and looked down the aisles still as he walked. It worried Stan a bit. He clutched at the M9 pistol that hooked through his belt loop. Kyle had the same gun. His blue eyes followed the spray of auburn hair that flowed out of the green hat for a moment before they turned and disappeared into an aisle. Kyle would probably be okay, but Stan still worried for his super best friend. He bit his lip and turned around, looking at the blond who was inspecting meat across the way. "Hey, Kenny?"

The blond gave a muffled noise, "Hm?" But he didn't look up from the meat, turning it over in his hands.

"You think he'll be okay?" Kenny looked up at him, blue eyes staring to blue eyes.

"You worry to much," he said, voice no longer muffled by whatever it been before. Stan laughed. It held a nervous tone.

"Yeah, I guess I do…"

Kyle, on the other hand, was looking along the shelves as he passed by, each box of cereal floating past his eyes. He was craving. He needed that one thing. He couldn't put his finger on it though. He sighed and stopped, hooking his M14 over his shoulder so the gun was behind him. as he rubbed at the back of his head. "God, what was it…?" He asked him, standing in the middle of the aisle. He turned slightly on one foot, looking over the boxes. He licked his lips and moved, bending over as a smile pulled at his lips. "Found ya," he said in a sing-song voice and reached out for a red box of Fruit Loops.

Chink.

He paused as he heard the small noise and looked down each end of the aisle, one hand on his knee and the other flitting to his pistol. His green eyes searched and he stayed still, swallowing thickly. He didn't dare move. In an instant, he whipped around, M14 swinging on his back, and drew his M9, pointing it first before him and then down each end of the aisle, chewing at his bottom lip as he didn't see anything. He turned back to the other end, the larger gun on his back making small clinking noises against his belt as he did. He felt like he needed to let out a hiccup.

With a sigh at his overactive imagination, he pushed the M9 back into his belt loop. He grunted at himself for being so paranoid. But he had every right to, didn't he? Especially like this. He turned back around, resuming his efforts for his Fruit Loops. He picked up the box slowly, bending down to check that nothing was behind the boxes except empty space. He stood back up and started back down the aisle, one hand holding the Fruit Loops against his chest and the other clutching his pistol at his side.

As Kyle turned out of the aisle, Cartman turned into it, eyes desperately flailing back and forth to everything on the shelves.

"Finally, goddamn!"

He sighed and ran down the aisle, each footstep making a loud crack against the ugly cream-colored tiles. He twisted to a stop in front of his prize and reached out for the cheesy snacks, his sleeves rolled up. His hand gripped the bag and he tugged, the bag crinkling loudly as he clutched at it, fingers ready to just rip it open and become covered in the cheesy goodness. He spun back around and ripped the bag open, reaching in as quickly as he possibly could and took a handful of the Cheesy Poofs, stuffing them into his mouth with a heaving sigh. He moaned over the food with pleasure, but it quickly turned into a hoarse scream as blood dribbled down his arm and pain seared over him.

He twisted around and his elbow flared out, knocking the perpetrator backwards. The man let out a groan as he rigidly flailed back, his neck cracking as it lurched back. Cartman threw the bag aside and took out his Glock, pointing it before him with a grunt of pain as it twisted the wound on his upper arm. His fingers tugged on the trigger as the man twitched back upright. His attacker gave a loud groan and blood dribbled out of his mouth and onto the tilted floor, along with bits of flesh and what looked like what was once someone's small intestine. He had gaping black holes infested with maggots were his eyes were supposed to be and he lurched forward to Cartman, his forehead immediately meeting the barrel of pistol. The poor bitch probably just wanted to be taken out of his undead misery. Cartman pulled back on the trigger.

A soft boom echoed across the aisles and the man's head popped open as he fell to the side. Cartman lowered his gun, blood dotted his cheeks in a spray.

"What the hell?" He looked at his handgun - not a round was used. He turned and stared down the aisle. Kenny stood at attention, a cigarette between his lips as clutched his Eagle Carbine semi-automatic. "What the fuck, Kenny!" He screeched and pointed Glock at the man who lay without a head on the ground. "I fucking had that one, you bitch!"

Kenny gave a weak shrug and cast his eyes aside, huffing at his cigarette, lowering the Eagle. "You took too long, ya' pussy."

"Aye! Fuck you po' boy!" Cartman snarled, flipping the smug looking blonde off. A cocky grin spreads on Kenny's lips, cigarette threatening to fall. His blue eyes flickered to the blood stain on Cartman's upper arm and the grin wavered slightly.

"Fuck man, it go ya'. " The teen stated, his gun hanging limply in his hand as smoke pooled out of his nose. The brunette snorted at the other, a sneer coating his face.

"No shit Sherlock, I didn't bite myself now did I?" He hissed, his gun slipping back into its holster so he could prod at the wound with his chubby finger. "Now get your ass over here and help me bind it, and keep your goddamn mouth shut about it." He ordered the other. Sighing, Kenny hooked his own weapon onto his back before moving forwards, ripping his shirt to use as a make-shift bandage.

"You guys alright?!" A voice yelled over the aisle, sounding slightly worried.

"Stop worrying like a pussy Stan, it was jus' Mr. Mackey gone ape shit. " Kenny hollered back, pulling up the sleeve of the other boy's shirt. "I got 'em in one hit. The geezer never did like my bullshit." He continued to explain, his eyes scanning the shelf for any kind of antibiotic, even though it wouldn't really help…

"Mr. Mackey too now. Didn't we get Mr. Garrison too? And the principal?" Kyle mumbled to himself, shaking his head. He was just glad it wasn't his mother and father they had to face yet. Even though his mother was a bitch he wouldn't be able to point a gun at her, no way in hell would he be able to do that. He felt a strong but gentle grip on his shoulder. Green eyes met dark blue and he couldn't help but to grin weakly. "Thanks Stan.." He stated, hugging the box of fruit loops closer to his body.

"Anytime, Kye… now let's hurry and get the food collected before we get attacked again." He ordered, patting the redhead on the back. Though his mind was still on the other 'zombies' they had seen, he didn't but up a fight as he collected items of food and other things that looked as if they could use it in the future.

Stan scoped out the room, edging towards the doors to take a look. He needed to make sure no more surprises would jump out and shred their throats into minced meat or blow their brains right out their ears. His stomach iced over in a split second, a small hiss leaving him as he ducked away from the window and back towards the other three.

"We got to go. Now," The raven haired boy hissed at the others, his eyes catching on the dirty cloth tied around Cartman's upper arm. He didn't bother questioning it, not now. They didn't question Stan either. Well, they didn't really have time to question anything.

An awkward silence followed by shattering glass, screaming, bullets being exchanged, and Kenny and Cartman yelling obscenities at the rivaling group that was trying to kill them all.

"Knock it the fuck off, Cartman! Kenny!" Kyle barked, his body pressed again the side of the counter.

"'Aye, where the fuck is your pussy fag of a leader!?" Cartman barked out, aiming with his Glock. Kenny let out a "yee-haw" as he shot off his own gun, splattering a few brains onto the pavement, the blood sprinkling the sidewalk outside the store like confetti did on Parade Day. Ken always had the best aim, even when he was terrible pissed off. Snarling, Cartman jerked his head forwards.

"Time to get the fuck outta here!"

In a split second, all of the boys booked it out of the store, grabbing as much food as they could on the way. Kyle ducked as he ran, easily escaping out of the back door, his feet crunching against the broken shards of glass. Stan was right after Kyle, glancing back ever so often as he had a plastic bag full of goods tucked under one arm, the other hand clenching onto his pistol.

Kenny's hand stretches back swiftly and grabs hold of Cartman's hand, pulling the chubby fucker out of the building. A few curse words and five minutes worth of running they find themselves panting, hidden deep within the forest behind Stark's pound.

"Fucking pussy ass bitches…" Cartman snarls, ranting on how the Trent Boyette's group always steals their raiding places. Kenny bumps his shoulder lightly, smirking at Cartman, who only growled in response, having hit his wound. The bastard. He knew it was there too. He'd pay later for it too. His cigarette had taken a blow from the earlier spray of bullets, speckles of tobacco clung to his skin and clothing, ashes too. They break out into laughter, soon Kyle and Stan join in too.

Suddenly Kyle stops dead in his tracks, eyes wide as he swallows thickly. Everyone follows his gaze, Stan being the only on able to find their voice in the small silence. "Who left the door unlock?"

"Ike…" Kyle mutters the same time Kenny breathes out Karen. The blonde is the first to move, darting forwards as fast as his feet can take him, his Eagle Carbine semi-automatic held in his hand tightly. Flinging the door open, he is met with a bitter sight. Blood splattered on the floor. One unrecognizable body on the floor, two zombies devouring the flesh of the once human child. He cringes as the two zombies snap their heads up to look at him with rigid cracks coming from their rigor mortus tied ligaments, their faces coated with blood, pale, red-spattered flesh dangling from their mouths as they growled at Kenny with their jaws locked in the same position.

Click. Bang. Splat.

One zombie down, one more to go.

The last undead man stood up in a crouched position, flashing Kenny a goddamn smirk as if taunting him. 'Ha-ha, you should've heard her screams.'

Click. Bang. Splat.

Blood sprayed onto his face, staining his pale flesh and shirt. Not like they weren't stained already. He could deal with it. He moved closer to the body that laid on the floor, blood pooled around the small frame.

No right hand, left leg missing a large chunk of flesh and muscles. The stomach was shredded open, half of the organs missing, her small intestine hanging out over what he through was her hip bone. It reminded Kenny of the zombie he had killed earlier. Her face, though, he could see that clearly. Tears mixed with blood, red hair with bits of flesh and blood tangled with in. Blue eyes stared fearfully into his own blue set. Goddamn, she was still alive… A strangled noise left him as he stepped closer, his shoes dipping into the pool of blood.

Click. Bang. Splat.

"I love you, Karen. I'll see you later, okay? I promise." He explained quietly as he heard Kyle shriek out Ike's name. He stared at her body a moment longer, shutting his eyes. He turned on his heels and let his gun fall out of his hand, the large Eagle clattering to the ground. He trudged over with his fists clenched and grabbed at a blanket, taking it from over the couch there and dragged it across the floor. He took both ends of one edge and waved it upwards, letting it fall slowly over his little sister. "I swear. God, I swear…"

He turned back and went through the doorway, leaving his Eagle Carbine behind with Karen. He peeked in and the super best friends were crowded around a small, pale body; white flesh mixed with gentle shades of blues and red. Ike.

Kyle was on his knees in front of the little Canadian. "Ike, fuck, Ike…" He choked and hiccupped and Stan put a hand to his shoulder, but Kyle shrugged it off and crawled towards his brother. "Ike?" He asked, his hands and sleeves dragging through the puddles of red liquid that pooled from the boy's stomach. Ike hiccupped and blood dribbled from between his teeth, one of his eyes shut and probably missing. There was blood spattered along the wall behind the little boy's head; a large chunk of his head was probably missing.

"K… Ky…" the rest of Kyle's name was formed into a low moan and Kyle watched in pain as his irises turned another shade of white. The way Ike's name coming from Kyle's mouth and morphed into 'God' was probably a little blasphemous, but God wasn't here to hear it anyway, so what the hell did he care while his little brother was bleeding out onto the floor of their hideaway.

Kenny turned and looked at Stan, who was still holding the other M14 rifle, his face down-turned and barrel of the rifle facing the ground, a round or two sputtered across the floor under him. Kenny's eyes glanced to the wall, where a Officer Barbrady and a woman that reminded him of Butters Stotch's mom lay dead on the ground, heads completely blown to bits. He looked back to Kyle, who now held Ike's face in his hands. He looked to Stan and nodded at him when Stan looked back. Unclipping the Baby Eagle pistol from his side holster, he held it up to point directly at Kyle's head. Stan lurched forward and tugged Kyle's collar, pulling him back so he fell back from his crouched position and onto Stan's sneakers, head rested against his legs. His arm extended outward quickly towards Ike, eyes wide. "Ike, I --"

Click. Bang. Splat.

Blew flew up along the wall and drowned out the sound of Kyle's soft calling of "love you." Stan looked down at Kyle, still holding onto the collar of his shirt. Kyle's lips trembled and he pressed himself back against Stan's legs, his cheeks spattered with Canadian blood. More possibly blasphemous words spilled out of his lips and he tried to scoot back more on Stan's legs, shaking his head furiously, cringing at the sight before him.

Kenny left the room, clicking his Baby Eagle back into place as he passed through the doorway. By the time he came back in, Stan had dropped his gun and was clutching Kyle in a hug, eyes closed as he hugged Kyle, who wept into his shoulder. Kenny walked in and casually draped the dark-colored blanket over Ike so no one had to look at him any longer. He stared at the blanket a moment and then turned halfway around, looking at Stan, who stared up at him while patting Kyle's back. Clinging to his cheeks were small pieces of flesh. A "cop's" flesh. A mom's flesh. Ike's flesh.

The blond shoved his hands in his pockets and started walking before he stopped in the doorway, hearing a ruckus upstairs. He glanced towards the stairs and was about to move before Kyle spoke up.

"You killed him, Kenny." He growled and Kenny turned around, staring blankly down at his redheaded friend, who glared up at him over Stan's shoulder. Stan's eyes turned slightly to Kenny.

"No, Kyle." He spoke in a calm tone, completely placid about it. "He was already dead."

"He talked to me, Kenny! He was still alive!" Kyle screeched at him, and Kenny watched as Kyle's hands clawed at Stan's shoulders, making the raven-haired boy wince.

"No, Kyle. He was a fucking daywalker. He was already gone," Kenny said, stressing a few words, each of which he growled.

"We could have saved him, Kenny!"

"No!" Kenny roared over the noises that sounded through the ceiling. "We couldn't have saved him, Kyle! Don't you fucking get that?! He was dying! There was no way we could have helped him! It's the same fucking thing with my sister! She was dying! But I didn't want her to suffer any more than she already was just because I saved her. Don't you get that they would have suffered more if we did save them?" Kyle just stared at him, tears streaming down his cheeks, still clutching Stan's shoulder blades with his nails. Stan couldn't ever bear to look now; his face was turned away.

"Fuck yeah!" Cartman roared, stepping into the doorway with a big fucking ear-to-ear grin plastered across his lips. "You guys totally fucking missed it! 'Ay, I just hauled ass with this baby, faggots!" He laughed that cocky laugh of his that didn't make him seem like an egotistical maniac at all and patted his AK. Kenny stared at him. Stan still couldn't look. Kyle's eyes were stuck on him with his jaw slightly dropped. Cartman glanced around. "What the fuck is wrong with you cocksuckers?"

Kenny sighed and turned to look at Kyle, shaking his head. "You guys may be some of the smartest kids in South Park, but you're all a bunch of idiots." He bit his lip and turned around, snagging his Eagle Carbine and loped it over his shoulder. "Fuck this, I'm out."

And the front door slammed shut.

"What the fuck did I just walk into?" The larger boy mumbled, shaking his head as he eyed the dark blue blanket that was soaking up the blood that was spewed upwards along the wall. Cartman never really had a problem with the Canadian kid, other than the fact that he was Jewish and Kyle's brother, but he preferred him alive. The brunette jerked his head towards the stairs once his gaze connected with Stan's.

"Get the Jew fag up stairs, I'm going to re-secure this shit-hole." The fat boy spoke out, receiving a small nod from the raven haired boy. Gently, he pried the smaller male off of him and ushered him up the stairs before offering Cartman one last glance and then disappearing up the stairs.

The larger boy huffed and shook his head, nudging Ike's covered body with his boot. A sigh left him as he walked to the front door of the hideout, dead bolting it hesitantly.

"That po' boy better hurry and get his skinny ass back here." He mumbled, trudging up the stairs after sweeping his gaze across the rest of the room. Soon enough he makes his way up in the attic where Stan is sitting on the couch with Kyle pressed against him again, green eyes puffy with tears.

"Where's Kenny?" Kyle croaked out, his gaze flickering with anger and worry for his friend. A snort left Cartman's chubby face as he shook his head.

"Where do you think he is, Kahl? He just ran out the fucking door." He answered back venomously, not caring about how the red-heads face paled quickly.

"Ike was still alive…h e could've been saved… even if for a few days.." Kyle mumbled, his gaze turning to the ground. Cartman stared at him a moment, figuring that's what the blond had exploded off about, and erupted into a sick fit of laughter, causing Kyle to let out a strangled sob as he glared at Nazi teen. Stan stayed silent, shaking his head. He didn't know what to do right now.

"So that's what this is about, 'ay?" He paused a moment, staring back at the redhead wickedly "And so, what? So he could slowly die? Infection setting in his wounds before he turns into a goddamn zombie? Oh, yeah, I am sure it would've been a lot better seen you're brother trying to bite your dick off. Great entertainment," Cartman spat out sarcastically before continuing. "I bet you would've already had your intestines ripped out if it wasn't for Kenny. Ya' know, he was the one that saved your ass when we went to go get Ike in the first place."

"Kenny does have the best aim." Stan mumbled, petting Kyle's curly locks as if to calm him down. The Jew sat there, chewing on his bottom lip as tears stopped flowing as if they could no longer fall.

"If he doesn't come back it will be all your fault, Jew fag. All your goddamn fault." And all Kyle could do was shake in Stan's arms, biting his lip almost until it began to bleed.