It's an AU where they aren't countries but I don't want to use human names because they don't all have official ones. I read a story about vampires on live journal where they did this and it was easier to figure who was who for those without human names, and if I looked for my own I;d take forever. Yep.

"No, no!" Canada cried in frustration, pounding his fist against the rubble, wincing when a sharp bit stuck in his hand. "This... this can't! It's not fair..." He bit his lip to keep sound from escaping as he pulled the rock from his hand and wiped it on his pants. Straining his ears, he listened for either voice from France or Seychelles, hoping they;d heard him, but nothing came. There was no sound save for his uneven breathing and a few rocks tumbling to the stone tunnel floor.
He waited in silence as his breathing calmed down, hoping somehow they'd break through the rubble and get him out. Sadly, nothing happened in the four minutes he'd dared to wait. "This isn't fair..." He mumbled again, flicking his flash light on and moving the yellowed beam around the tunnel. As the light passed over the curved ceiling, he caught glimpses of blood spatters and bits of flesh and assorted entrails hanging down. Then the smell hit, causing him to gag and double over, sure he'd spew the contents of his stomach over the rough ground.
Holding a hand firmly against his mouth, he waited for the wave of nausea to pass. When it finally subsided, he spat the watery fluid from his mouth, wiping across his lips with the back of his hand. He steeled himself for the grisly sight and straightened his back, checking his gun nervously. Canada tool a step forward, forcing himself to stay calm. Usually he had France and Seychelles watching the front, and now he was alone...
Clang-
"Ah-!" Canada nearly screamed, twisting his waist in order to see behind him, where the sound came from. Nothing behind him. Further investigation by flash light showed a car mirror had fallen against anther car. "N-nothing..." He pinched the bridge of his nose, clearing the corners of his eyes and pushing his glasses up against his face. It sucked being partially blind during the zombie apocalypse he briefly thought, continuing slowly. He encountered nothing for almost an hour as he navigated the tunnel, dread growing with each step. As he paused to decided which tunnel he should go down at the latest fork, the sound of coughing reached his ears. Was someone else down there with him? Another survivor?
He followed the sound of the coughing, on the lookout for the other person.
"Hey, is anyone there?" He called softly, peering into a car window as he passed, shuddering at the half-mangled corpse of a woman. Just as the car was nehind him, a sound caught his attention, causieng him to turn again.
Something slimy suddenly wrapped around his chest, pinning his arms. Another joined it around his throat, tightening and pulling him back. Canada thrashed, unable breathe. His back scraped against rough stone and sharp gravel as he moved back, shredding through his shirt and skin. "L-let go-" he barely managed to choke out, wincing as the bond tightened. His head bumped hard against a wall and he realized he was being pulled over a concrete roadblock.
Black spots danced across his vision. He was sure to pass out if he wasn't released soon. Twisting his body with all his strength, he managed to turn onto his stomach, catching glimpses of gore-splattered shoes. Finally he realized what had him caught, though he'd never seen one before. It was most definitely a Smoker. A new wave of panic coursed through his at the realisation and he dug the tips of his shoes into the gravel, trying to resist.
It was useless, he also thought as the same time he performed the action. From reading documents hidden in safe houses, that was how Canada and his group knew if you encountered a Smoker on your own, you were as good as dead. And Canada was as good as dead now, separated from his team. 'I won't go down without a fight, at least!' Canada thought, thrashing against the tongue despite the horrible light-headed feeling he had. It made him want to vomit again, but with the tongue constricting his throat, he was lucky he could even strain the slightest amount of air through his lungs at all.
A shot rang out and suddenly the pressure around his chest and neck was gone. Canada coughed, feeling around his neck. He could feel something wet and warm. He wanted to stand, but his legs wouldn't seem to work. Instead he managed to push himself up, coughing again as something new was sucked through his lungs. The blackness finally ebbed away, and he could make out a short figure approaching through thick green smoke.
Maybe France and Seychelles had found him after all? He squinted, realizing that his glasses were gone. A fit of coughing claimed his time shortly. He was afraid he might hurt something as hard as it was, and to his dismay, spots were returning to his vision.
As the blackness again flowed over his line of sight, the figure held seen knelt beside him. Through t he smoke and the darkness he could barely make out any features, save for long hair pulled into twin braids, like Seychelles always wore. Another figure whom he assumed was France stood behind her, though he seemed taller than usual.
"Nnn... Papa...?" He moaned quietly as the ground dissapeared from beneathe him. Then his eyes finally closed, hoping he wasn't going to regret passing out when he woke up.