Canada had been walking for atleast twenty minutes and thousands of screaming, panic stricken people who pushed and shoved him. Even a couple zombies, more then a couple, hundreds atleast but he just kept walking. He closed his eyes and for a minute blocked out all the sounds, the screams the crys and just listened to the quick beat of his heart. It was the only thing that kept him aware that he was still alive and not just a zombie walking among the crowd. But the thing that scared him most, no terrified him, was if he were to be bit a no one seen him, he could kill the rest of the nations. And as the supposed 'world peace keeper' it hurt... And it made him feel worse then dead.
America looked up, the bags shoved neatly into a knapsack and he just started to walk, north, luckily he was in New York so he was close to the border. But he walked, and walked, even at one point starting ot jog, he was panting and had to stop, hands on knees as he wiped sweat from his forehead, "Please tell me Matts here..." He whimpered, "He better be..." He said as he stood up and walked over to the edge of their borders, spotting the other blonde he burst into a sprint a tackled his brother to the ground, "Matthew!" He cried hugging him and smiling. "You're okay!"
Spain looked at him and smiled, "Don't sell yourself short Romano, you're Italy too." He said as he gently kept walking, "I'll make sure both you and Ita are safe." He smiled, "Don't worry Romano, it'll all blow over and we'll all be fine... We just can't throw ourselves into the uproar that the people are in. Aslong as we stay together and we stay calm we'll be fine." He said as they neared his house.
Italy looked up utterly bewildered, and it was his sparkiling brown eyes in which his puplies seemed to retreat till they were small and he trembled, "V-Ve, I-I know that... I-It's just n-not easy to h-hear." He whimpered as he rested his head against the Prussians shoulder, he hated death more then anything. And one of the reasons that made him such a big coward, was he didn't want death or war, he wanted peace. He also didn't want to want to end up dead or let people die, the thought of losing someone and having them never come back utterly petrified him. "V-Ve... P-Prussia? C-C-Could I see G-Gilbird f-for a bit?" He asked with a wobbly smile on his face as he looked up.
England sighed and nodded, "We'll go then..." He muttered as he walked over to the small boat, nothing big, but it had enough feul to get them to some countries in europe. He quickly took the bags from sealand and placed them in the boat before stepping into the boat and holding his hand out, "Come on." He said with a small smile, "We'll go right away..."
Sealand nodded and took the British mans hand stepping into the boat before walking tothe front and sitting cross legged as he looked over at the sloshing waves.