Book 2 - The Angel Against Revolution

XXII - Buried Alive

Russia's shivering became more like convulsions, and he struggles to keep his hands on the wheels.

"Meri," Russia stutters out in between his chattering teeth, "close the window. Please."

"But I- oh my God. Yeah, hold on," America says, the second part injected with panic.

"Russ, are you okay?" Arizona asks.

America pulled himself back into the car and rolls up the window as fast as he can. Russia tries to keep himself from biting his tongue.

"Are you okay? F*ck! Why didn't I notice?" America exclaims.

Russia's legs cramps horribly, but he can't risk stalling the truck. He forces his legs to push against the gas and clutch, and the truck jerks. Luckily though, the car continues moving, even if the movement is stuttered and unsteady.

"Russ?"

"We can't stop," Russia stammers, "have to keep going."

"You're shaking like a f*cking leaf!" America exclaims, "is there any way I can help?"

Russia shrugs stiffly. America turns up the heat and takes off his jacket. Then something warm is laid on Russia's lap. He nearly melts into it. His shivering calms enough for him to control the truck to keep it on the road.

"Very cold," Russia mumbles.

"I know. I'm sorry," America replies.

Russia just shivers.

He hears it shriek a blood-curdling scream before something behind him emits a loud, low clicking. It sounded almost like grinding gears. A look in the mirror confirms his fears.

It's getting closer.

He looks back to the road for a moment and the radio screams with static. Russia's head pops up and he looks in the side mirror.

He panics.

The thing had caught up to New Hampshire's car and rams into a back tire. New Hampshire's car begins to spin. Russia puts the truck out of gear and prepares to slam on the brakes.

"What?" America demands.

Russia points to the rear window and America lets out a strangled gasp. Russia pulls over as fast as the truck would allow and without turning it off, he tosses America his jacket and hops out, not even sure if he had closed the door.

Russia sprints forward, wielding a knife and a flashlight in one hand and grabbing a rock with the other. He throws the rock as high as his numb hands would allow, and it hits the monster on the shoulder blade. The thing opens its mouth, projecting static, and Russia shouts as loud as he can manage.

"Over here!" he screams, his voice cracking.

The thing spins around on its heels and sniffs the air before dropping to all fours, its joints contorting and twisting out of sockets. It clicks loudly before shrieking. It sails through the air as it leaps toward him, its mouth open and ready to rip him to shreds.

Russia lunges out of the way, rolling to a stop in the snow. It skids to a stop and spins around, growling in a way that seemed to shake the ground itself. Russia's hair stands up.

The numb feeling spreads and gets worse with the snow, but Russia couldn't care less.

'I need to protect them.'

It charges back at him, and Russia lurches away, only to be caught by its gaunt hands. He clutches his knife and slashes at the thing's wrist before it can get a tight enough grip on him.