The Storm [DISCONTINUED]

Chapter Six:

The group slept peacefully.

For five minutes.

The day was still early, and people were still walking around. But what woke them from their nap was the booming thunderclap from the rain storm.

Mexico and America jolted awake, ready to attack something. Cass sat upright, hugging his bunny. The child's eyes were wide and afraid.

"Cass, are you alright?" America asked him, kneeling beside the cot. The boy nodded, huddling himself into a ball under the blanket.

Another thunderous bellow sounded out, shaking the whole underground building. Suddenly, the air was much thicker.

America glanced at the oxygen recycling machine and cursed despite Cass clinging to his arm.

The fan that filtered dry air into fresh and breathable oxygen wasn't spinning. The wind must have knocked down something.

"José?"

"Checking with Max," said Mexico and jumped up to talk to the tall young man trying to calm the people around him.

Max was a strange character. He was thoughtful and definitely intelligent, but he had always seemed a little...off, at least to America.

He was thin with stringy red hair and round brown eyes, making him almost look like Scotland.

Max also had a voice like America's; high pitched and didn't match his height at all. But it was also like England's; serious and authoritative. In fact, the only thing to keep Max from being Scotland's twin was eye color and his almost non-existent eyebrows.

Non-existent, at least by Kirkland standards.

But scrawny appearance aside, Max was one of the few who had seized power amidst the chaos and was in charge of keeping things in order. He did a relatively good job, but when a catastrophe happened, people flocked to him and he apparently wasn't as good a thinker under pressure.

He stuttered and spoke things that were either too smart or too stupid to comprehend, and he mumbled when people asked what to do in a tragedy.

Mexico and America made fun of him, but now there really was an emergency.

By this time, Mexico and America had grown somewhat accustomed to the harsh outside air. Meaning, their lungs didn't burn as much and with each day they could travel more distances.

But there were still people who had not been outside yet. Children and elderly who don't even know what the earth looks like now. America could already hear the very young coughing and burying their faces into their guardian's shoulder.

Mexico pushed his way through the panicking people surrounding Max and tried to speak to him, but Max's muttering and stumbling problem had already overtaken him.

However, when Mexico returned he did say that Max had told him the vents were broken, but fresh air could still filter in and out.

"What does that mean?" asked Cass, who was using America's jacket as a face mask.

America ruffled his hair and smiled gently. "It means we're gonna be breathing the outside from now on."

Cass stared up at him, then snuggled closer to his chest. America continued to smooth his greasy white hair.

"Who's knows what's out there and what people could be breathing in. We can't be wearing the masks all the time," complained Mexico. America shushed him.

"Look kiddo, why don't you take a nap while Max and I try to fix everything," offered America, but Cass shook his head.

"Nuhuh. Not tired."