Book 4 - Spring

II - Start

Russia's head pops up when the air is contaminated by something he can't identify. He smells again and his heart stops.

'People.'

Russia scrambles to his feet and meows loudly.

'We need to leave. Now!'

"Ruby?"

Russia nudges America up, but America sways just sitting up. Texas shakily stands, coughing sickly into his fist. Russia winces at the way his frame shakes.

"What's wrong?" Finland asks, strapping on her bag.

"We're leaving?" Ohio complains.

"Shut up," Alberta snaps.

"Shut up," Ohio mimics.

"Buckeye! Stop. This is probably important," South Dakota snaps, North Dakota standing behind her nodding.

"We should trust Russ," Kansas says, throwing his bag onto his back, "I know I do."

Russia begins trilling and chirping, grabbing America by his hood and the back of his bag. America thrashes for a second before relaxing. Russia lifts him off the ground and stands above the crowd.

"Don't drop me, okay?" America asks shakily, wheezing.

'I won't.'

Russia turns to watch as Mexico and Brazil shake the teens awake. The kids groan and whine, but don their bags, strapping and clipping them to their backs. Russia begins walking, and someone latches onto his tail. He half-heartedly tries to shake them off to no avail.

Whoever had taken his tail hugs it to their chest, burying their face into the fur.

'Poor Florida.'

He feels two more people clutching onto him for balance. North Carolina holds him on his left flank, stumbling over the rocks and her own feet. Texas struggles forward, leaning most of his weight into Russia's ribs.

Texas groans just loud enough for Russia to hear and Russia's ears pin back.

'I know, Tazzy, I know. I'm sorry.'

Russia tries his best to ignore the pain radiating from the fists in his fur. Even still, the hair on his back prickles up and his ears flick.

'I can't push them off. We have to keep moving.'

Rocks pock at his toes and his claws extend into the moss around them. The wind still carries the scent of people and the smell of the agent's uniforms. Russia begins trying to sniff out a safer path, only to find himself walking circles around unfamiliar, fetid smells.

Something growls from above them and Russia's hair stands up. He smells the rot radiating from the location of the sound. The aggression in the air pushes his ears flat against his head. Russia gently places America to the ground before growling.

He stands over America, his claws extended and his teeth bared. He hooks the backpack loops of the kids and pulls them under his chest. He hisses at the trees, his eyes narrow. The states hide behind his legs and Finland stands close to his face, still and steady on her feet.

Russia is grateful for the support.

A silhouette swiftly twists around tree branches, dropping tree needles as it disappears from view.

"What is it?" Brazil demands, raising her arms in a defensive position.

Russia hisses and snatches her by the jacket when she tries to get closer to the tree he's staring at.