The Storm [DISCONTINUED]

Chapter Thirteen:

It took America a few minutes before he had packed his few belongings into his bag and helped Cass strap on his respirator.

Before long, they all set out into the sweltering heat and followed Canada to the isolated gas station just off the main town road.

When America came into view of the old half melted building, he noticed that the windows were dirty and cracked but still somehow in place. Some windows had wooden boards nailed over them.

The door also had a large wooden board nailed across it and a red 'x' had been painted on it. Maybe it was some kind of makeshift shelter? America thought to himself.

He decided to ask, but Canada only shrugged, explaining he'd only been living in the grocery store for about a week. He also said he had seen the small station but never really paid it any attention, being too busy with his own safety to worry about.

America thought on the subject for a while, wondering why they'd never seen any other people in town, or any of the monster-human hybrid things.

Maybe there were people inside, but they were too afraid to come out?

However, America quickly shook away the hopeful thought. The only reason his old bunker had lasted so long was the fact it was built into a hill and completely underground. There was no way a regular gas station would hold the up as long as an actual shelter.

I guess people could try, but they would have died by now, he thought sadly.

Soon the group came up to the door and asked each other how to open the door.

"Wanna just kick it in?" asked Mexico.

"We can't do that, it'll just attract any creatures that might be close," Canada quickly corrected him. Mexico looked discouraged. America thought he heard him mumble, 'I wanna kick something,' under his breath.

America laughed at his friend then suggested they just try pushing it in.

No one had a better idea so they all lined up against the old doorway and pushed on the count of three.

The old rusted and half melted screws were loose and the dusty board nearly disintegrated under their touch.

Mexico clapped sarcastically for America, who returned with a deep bow and a smile.

Canada grinned then pushed open the door. It swung open with an echoing creak.

XXXXX

"Woah," muttered America after stepping into the darkness. Dust floated around the still, thick air of the darkened station. A whisp of air greeted the group's already sweaty faces and brought brief, sweet relief from the oppressive heat.

However, before he could enjoy the sudden cooling sensation, a sense of dread filled America. Why was there cool air inside? And why are the windows boarded up?

"Cass?" he said warily, not taking his eyes off the silent darkness.

"Yeah," replied the boy.

"Stay in front of me, okay? I need to be able to see you," he said, his voice dropping. Mexico nodded behind America and stepped in front of the boy. They've done this formation of protection around Cass for a while on their long journey to find Canada.

"Just stay behind me, got it?" Mexico had asked with a smile. Cass nodded, tiredly but enthusiastically. Even after a week of traveling and barely crawling forward, Cass' smile always seemed to be bursting with happiness.

Now a horrible sense of blood-curling dread came over America as they group walked into the old, cramped, dark building. He found himself pinching the sleeve of Canada's jacket, just to make sure he was still there. Canada looked back at his twin and offered him a shy, reassuringly familiar grin.